Marrakesh and Essaouira, Morocco, March 21th-24th 2008

Our trip to Morocco was absolutely amazing. We travelled with 2 other couples, that we really didn’t know all that well, but were anxious to spend time with in Marrakesh. Jeff and Maria Largey work at JP Morgan – Maria and Eric had worked together in NY on occasion. Vic Cossell and Theresa Niu are friends with Maria and Jeff.

Our taxi dropped us right here when we first arrived.

The 6:00 a.m. flight from Luton was just as expected. The weather was rainy and the 3:30 car ride was quite painful, but the Ryan Air flight was on time and got us to Marrakesh in about 3 hours.






View from the roof





We arrived and made our way to our Riad El Ouarda in the center of the Medina (local part of town). The sights on the way to the Riad were incredible. It was really hard to believe that just 3 hours south of London was a 3rd world country – one unlike Eric nor I had ever seen or visited. The dress, the lifestyle, and the means of transport for the locals was eye opening. Most of the women were covered from head to toe. Many showed only their eyes. The surroundings were almost surreal.



View inside the riad from the roof.



Riads are usually large mansions that have been converted into accommodations for tourists. They are extremely authentic and right in the middle of all the local action.

The riad all lit up.

The Riad El Ouarda was beautiful. The décor was minimal but perfect. Brigitte, the French woman who owned it, spent quite a bit of time and money refurbishing the place and making it comfortable and modern. The pictures are pretty accurate and show clearly what it was like. The view from the roof was breathtaking on a clear day: the Atlas Mountains in the distance, the splattering of mosques and the infinite number of satellite dishes on the shabby roofs.



The weather was relatively mild, but not as warm as I expected for Africa. It was about 65 and sunny the days we were there.

Friday we spent most of the day wandering around the souks (markets) and visiting Jemaa al Fna (the big square). The highlights:

Souks


• Driving into town in our taxi from the airport - clearly we were not in Kansas any more. We had no idea where we were. The guidebooks don't bother printing maps because even if you could decipher the occasional Arabic street sign, the streets, which feel more like alleyways, are a labyrinthe maze of cars, mopeds, bikes, people, donkey-drawn carts, and dust. The taxi pulled off to the side of one of these streets, next to a few butchers (open air stalls with skinned animal carcasses hanging from hooks overhead - goat heads on the table, etc.) The engine turned off. I guess we're here. Wow. Luckily our taxi driver knew of our riad so he led us down some narrow alleys, past rows of beggars and street kids, knocked on a nondescript door, and led us into the calm of Riad el Ouarda. Once inside, it was hard to believe the world that existed on the other side of the wall.



Markets off the Jma al Fna


• Meeting some young boys who offered to “escort us” to the big square – There were 3 of them – 1 boy around 12, another about 10 and the 3rd was about 6 or 7. The oldest boy spoke some English and was clearly the “leader” of their little pack. Here was the order to our journey - some smaller stalls, the bank (wink wink), to a restaurant. We were a bit annoyed by having them take us everywhere and then of course wanting money, so we paid the oldest boy and told him to share the equivalent of £8 with his friends. The littlest boy fake cried because Eric hadn’t given him any money and I literally had to pull Eric away and leave the boys to work it out. (Vic would later give this kid about 15 quid, causing him to show up at the doorstep of our riad every morning, afternoon, and night for the rest of the trip.)
 



Water carrier taking a break.

 
• We then went to our first traditional Moroccan meal at Cafe Arabe.
• Eric buying sunglasses that were probably worse for his eyes than if he had no sunglasses at all. Bargaining the man down from 25 dirhams to 10. Apparently the haggling is so fierce that you can talk someone down to about 10% of their original price quoted
• Shopping for a leather overnight bag in the markets
• Seeing the big Kotoubia Minaret (mosque) that overlooked the square
• Talking to "Meedy, The Bald Healer" who tried to get us to stop into his magical healing shop for some natural remedies.
• Having mint tea in the Riad after a long day of shopping




Unwinding on the roof of the riad after a long day of exploring


• Seeing the way locals eat on benches from food stalls in the square

• Meeting Hassan (who would be our tour guide around the city the next day) and who had a nephew in Texas
• Eating at a ridiculously touristy restaurant with candle dancers, a traditional band, lots of couscous and smoke, and a bellydancer.
• The food overall was quite good. A lot of couscous, tagine (which is slow cooked meat in a traditional type of cookware and paired with dates, lemon, olives, almonds, and some type of sauce, and traditional salads – all very sweet.)

Saturday’s highlights included:

• Waking up for the 5am prayer call and chanting. One must hand it to these people for their religious devotion. There aren't many things that get me out of bed at 5am (swimming? Christmas?), but I can confidently say it isn't prayer.
• Hassan picking us up in the morning and taking us first to the Marjorelle Gardens. The gardens were a gift from Yves Saint Laurent to the city. They were smaller than I expected, but were nice to wander through.

• We then traveled to the Menara Gardens. A laser show takes place on certain nights in the spring/summer. The “gardens” is really just a big plot of somewhat dusty land with olive trees. It is a hot spot for locals to picnic and rest under the trees. In the center of the gardens is a big “pond.” You will see in the pictures that the pond is oversized but seems like something you would see at Sea World.
• Riding camels in La Palmaraie. It was a little hoakie, but pretty cool to actually ride a camel around. They were attached in 3s and led by a guide. Vic’s camel was a bit rowdy and famished so she (Ayesha) decided to bite Theresa on the leg.




The Atlas Mountains are barely visible in the distance.


• (Eric's turn to write) Saadian tombs - once we paid our 10 dirhams, we entered the garden and saw a HUGE line that we weren't willing to wait in, so we had a quick look around and then left. Still don't know who was actually buried there.
• We were a little tight on time nearing the end of Hassan's tour, so instead of seeing the Royal Palace, he took us straight to "The Complex." We weren't quite sure what to expect, as Hassan told us that The Complex was just like a small palace. Well, it might have been one day, but now it's a huge indoor warehouse selling every piece of tourist tat you can imagine. Carpets, decorative boxes, gnome outfits (Jeff actually bought one of these), ceramic colorful dishware, etc. Hassan was eager to get us there so he clearly would get a cut of whatever we bought.




Goat heads for dinner in the main market


• Erin and I returned to Jemaa al Fna for a brief visit before dusk to see the snake charmers, food and water vendors, story tellers, and the elusive plier-wielding teeth pullers (though we never spotted one of these). We bought some of the dried fruit and nuts, wondering how long it had been sitting in it's perfect piles, but not really caring because they tasted so good.
• Making our way back through the winding streets of the Medina, it's difficult not to stare into all the random stalls, wondering what each is selling, but trying not to look too interested for fear of being accosted by the vendors. We passed a lot of coiffeurs (barbers), that consisted of a single barber chair and enough room to squeeze barber and customer. I can't imagine who would risk sitting down in one of these. Well, I didn't have to think too hard, because as we passed one stall, something was clearly out of place. 4-5 locals had gathered around to watch one of the tourists sit down for a trim (a fade, actually.) And it wasn't just any tourist,it was Vic. He'd been talking about getting a proper fade since we landed, but I never believed he would do it. Well done Vic!
• We arrived back at the riad just in time to watch the sunset from the roof terrace. It was quite a sight and complimented nicely by a few glasses of Rosé and the peanut butter "power bar" Maria had bought from the nice old man on the street. For the first time in two days, the air was clear enough to allow a fleeting glimpse of the Atlas mountains.
• Listening to the sunset prayer call from the speakers attached to the mosque minaret next door is quite a surreal experience for a bunch of Westerners.
• At about 8:30, we made our way out to Bab Tarzhout square near the riad to catch taxis to dinner at Le Tobsil. If things are hard to find in the Medina, this place would have been impossible without the restaurant-employed guide who waits by the street where the taxis stop. We zig-zagged through some narrow alleyways to arrive a very nice Moroccan restaurant. I think we were not yet sick of the local fare at this point, so more heaping piles of cous cous and a few tagines later, we were all thoroughly stuffed. We talked a big game about heading out for a drink afterward, but with heavy stomachs, we made our way back to the riad in time to crash in our own beds.

Sunday- Happy Easter!!

• Early wake up for another breakfast on the terrace. No crepes this time...bummer.
• 3 hour car ride to Essaouira. Oddly, it was the same driver that picked us up from the airport on Friday. He didn't speak English so we stuck Jeff in the front seat so he could chat in French. Along the way, we stopped at a rug store to use the bathroom and later to take pictures of goats stranded high in the trees along the side of the road. Clearly a goat herder makes more charging tourist for pictures of tree-stranded goats than they do for selling the goats themselves.




Erin swings a souvenir bag in the Fort at Essaouira


• Essaouria was a smaller, beach-front version of Marrakech. The slower pace was a welcome change, and though there weren't a ton of sights to see, I could see why a few people had advised staying here for two nights and Marrakech for one rather than the other way around.

• We found an Italian restaurant for lunch. The pizzas,ravioli, penne, and green salads were a nice change.




Essaouira seen through a port hole in the fort.


• We wandered through more souks, bought a leather bag and some ceramic plates for the cous cous we will never make, and tried to get off the tourist path a little bit. There were so many amazing photo ops of the Moroccan people going through their daily routines, but we were advised that the locals did not really appreciate having their pictures taken...and certainly not for free.

• We returned to the beach-front square where we bought some cookies from a guy on the street. He tried to sell us some "Happy Cookies...you know LA LA LA, HA HA HA" which sounded pretty appetizing to me. But when he asked if we wanted strong or medium, Erin realized that these delicacies were made with more than just flour,butter, and sugar.
• We had some gelati, and got back in the van for our trip back. Nice naps.
• Went to dinner at Bo Zin, a newer restaurant on the outside of town. It still seemed to cater to Europeans, but possibly those who lived in Marrakech rather than just those of us visiting for the weekend. I had camel tagine to get revenge at Ayesha for trying to eat Theresa on Saturday.

• Again, our plans for a late night out proved futile, and after a brief dance session around bonfire in the the vacant back garden area of the restaurant, we headed home.

On Monday morning, we had one last breakfast on the roof again. Like Sunday, there were no crepes served, but Brigitte packed some for us for our short taxi journey to the airport. A great finish to an amazing weekend.



 

For a look at the pictures from our journey, take a look at the link below. They are a good supplement to the highlights above. I have included our pictures as well as those from our traveling buddies for a good all around look at our trip.

Our pics

http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=hj0zhyv.8uez3ajj&x=0&y=-txpw78&localeid=en_US

Theresa & Vic's pics

http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=hj0zhyv.9fxnm4rz&x=0&y=-owjna4&localeid=en_US
Jeff & Maria's pics

http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=mf0winp.4mt50tth&x=0&y=y8bjpu&localeid=en_US



South Beach, Florida, USA March 14th-17th 2008

I absolutely love my friends and would pretty much do anything for them, including fly from London for the weekend to one of their bachelorette parties. Back in December, I met up with Carl for breakfast when our trips to Naples overlapped. It was then and there that I decided I missed my friends so much that I was going to do anything I could to get to South Beach for Lesley’s bachelorette party in March.

Well, I set out on Friday morning, almost missed my flight out of Heathrow due to all sorts of mishaps (late trains, unhelpful airport personnel and the lack of a first class ticket). I got to the airport and checked in 59 minutes before my flight. The check-in kiosk tells me that I am too late and the flight is now closed. Panic immediately sets in. Looking pained, I seek help and am sent to stand in another line at the ticket counter area behind 5 other customers. Again, the look of pain worsens and a nice lady asks me if she can help. Almost in tears, I am sent to an empty counter and a nice man checks me in, hands me a boarding card, and directs me to security. Things were looking up.

It is 8:30 in the morning and the airport is packed. The security line is dreadfully long. But alas, there is a short line for those inept passengers who can’t seem to get to the airport in ample time (me). This line is much shorter and is only reserved for passengers whose flights are before 9:30 – mine is at 9:20. They actually were encouraging lateness! (Loved it!). I get through security in about 20 minutes, have to bypass all of the tempting duty free goods and walk right onto the plane. We took off an hour late so my thoughts jump to 9 hours from now when I have to make a very tight connection in Chicago. Panic again sets in, and I spend the next 9 hours looking at the flight journey and watching the “estimated time of arrival” go from 25 minutes late to almost an hour.

We land in Chicago at 2:55. My next flight was at 3:30. Before landing, I was able to find out my connecting gate and map out a plan for getting from Terminal M to Terminal K (oddly enough, they are right next to each other but are connected by a tram). The announcement was made that those without connections kindly stay seated so that those with connections can maintain some semblance of hope that they will make them. Fasten seat belt sign off, EVERYONE gets up. I am stuck behind two old people who seem to have all day. I run off the plane, get through customs, the tram arrives as I get there, and I make my flight by exactly 5 minutes. Everything went just right, and I was able to relax for the next 2.5 hours.

I arrive in Miami and surprise the girls in the bar. Carl was the only one who knew I was coming. Lesley cried, Brooke looked stunned, and Meggie was smiling. Those were the faces I initially remember. Then of course Carl looked over and gave me a nod (like, "nice work girl – we kept our secret and got the reaction we had hoped"). The look on their faces, and the feeling I had was absolutely priceless.

The rest of the weekend is kind of a blur. We stayed at the Catalina Hotel right on Collins Avenue. The hotel was modern and a bit shabby but did the job. We had a nice dinner Friday night and then went to the Delano for some drinks. I actually stayed up until 5:30 London time which I was pretty impressed with.

Saturday we lounged on the beach, had a nice lingerie shower for Lesley, got some free alcohol and headed up to our room for some entertainment. Besides looking like the average Joe from the Midwest, he had Patrick Swayze dirty dancing hair and a terrible tick that caused him to yelp and clap every 55 seconds. It was hysterical, but also extremely irritating. Once that ended, we freshened and headed out to Mansion for the evening. Another late and fun night.

Sunday we had brunch then Brooke, Carl and I hung out at the Catalina pool after everyone else had gone. It was nice to catch up and just chat for a few hours before heading back to the airport for my redeye. The flight was pretty uneventful, although I did meet a potential friend. She was from New Zealand and had recently gotten engaged in the BVI – Anagada to be exact - Brooke, that’s for you :). Monday morning I arrived at Heathrow, hurried home, showered and headed into work. It made for a really long week, but the long journey and lack of sleep was all worth it, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Can’t wait for the wedding in 25 days!

Dublin, Ireland March 8th-9th 2008

Apologies for taking so long to post a little something about Dublin. Been a bit distracted with work lately. It's unfortunate that work gets in the way of my personal life sometimes :)

Eric had a work trip scheduled for the 7th and 8th of March in Dublin. He had some meetings with local clients and then was "forced" (tough life) to take clients to one of the biggest 6 nation rugby matches - Ireland vs. Wales on Saturday the 8th. Knowing that he would be set up in a nice hotel and his meals would be paid for, I decided to tag along for the weekend.

I arrived in Dublin on Saturday morning and got really lost trying to be thrifty and walk from the train station to the hotel. Big mistake. It took me 45 minutes to get to the hotel which was approximately 1 mile away. I am really quite bad at directions. I spent the day wandering around Grafton Street and O’Connell Street shopping (for myself and for Lesley’s bachelorette party.) It was nice to finally save a little money by purchasing in Euros as opposed to Pounds. In fact, I really took advantage of it. I was quite exhausted after 3 hours of shopping so I went back to the Westin where we were staying, took a shower and decided to curl up in their comfy robes and just lounge on the “heavenly bed” for the next 3 hours! Eric and I ventured out to dinner later on that night and had a really hard time finding a place that wasn’t booked due to the rugby match.

Dinner was at a place called Bleu and still not sure what type of cuisine it was. It seemed to be a mix, but good none the less. We were pretty tired and ended up just going back to the hotel for the night

Sunday was almost a repeat of Saturday. We spent most of the day just wandering around the shops. We decided to stop again at Trinity College because it was directly across the street from our hotel. Eric also had an interest in seeing the Book of Kells but it was still 9 Euros, and if you know Eric, you know he was never going to pay that kind of money to look at a book.
In the early evening we visited the Temple Bar area because we hadn’t properly looked around the on our first visit with my family last summer. And, a lovely looking restaurant caught our eye so we went in. It was absolutely terrible. The food was overpriced and just not good. It was called Bruno’s. If you ever are in the area, don’t go there.

We tried to get on an earlier flight back to London due to the impending monsoon, but no such luck. However, our flight was on time and we arrived back home around 10:30 that night.