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January 25 El Salvador, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama and Shakira!Next stop was San Salvador, the capital of El Salvador for a couple of nights. Outwardly it is a modern city with american strip malls and the usual fast food franchises, unfortunately the civil war of the nineties has meant a lot of the country's population has decended onto San Salvador in search of non existent work. I went for a walk through the city centre and market area passing the odd street kid sprawled out on the pavement sleeping off their last fix and could feel all the eyes on me probably wondering how many dollars I had in my pocket - needless to say I was pretty happy to get out of there. So it's no surprise that San Salvador has a high robbery rate, walking around at night is a no no with taxi's being compulsory transport.
Nicaragua next, an early bus departure where I caught up with Lucas, an american I met in Guatemala who convinced me to bypass Managua and head to Granada about an hour away - or 45 minutes if you have a maniac bus driver!
Granada was a good option - a nice little town next to lake Nicaragua with plenty of gringo backpackers enjoying the laid back life style. The word is that Granada is like Antigua (Guatemala) was 20 odd years ago before all the gringos arrived but I'd have to say it is rapidly catching up with lots of effort going into tidying up the streets and repairing and painting the old colonial buildings.
I started to get a bit fidgety after a couple of days of relaxing in between power and water cuts due to the government trying to save money and decided to head to an island oasis lying just off the coast in the carribean. So it was back to Managua, a short plane flight then an open water boat ride and I was standing on Little Corn Island - a relatively untouched little sandy island surrounded by clear warm water - brilliant! A week off the tourist track to do a bit of diving in 29 degree water is always enjoyable with plenty of sea life including nurse sharks, stingrays, eagle rays, schools of barracuda and last but not least dolphins! I didn't come across any of the illusive square fish though, the local code for the packages of drugs that occasionally wash up on shore after being dumped out of planes or boats trying to evade capture.
Refreshed and rejuvenated it was time to move on again, having been out of South America for a month or so I was getting withdrawals so decided that going to see Shakira in concert in her home town of Barranquilla was as good an excuse as any to go back so it was that I made my way to Panama city and jumped on a plane and headed to the carribean coast of Columbia.
Whilst in Columbia I spread my time between the towns of Santa Marta and Cartagena and their respective beaches. Unfortuately the diving was not as good as Little Corn Island which was not helped by the cooler water temperature! Cartagena is a worthy recipient of its world heritage site title, a beautiful old fortress town full of great colonial buildings mixed with a laid back atmosphere.
The main purpose of my visit was to see Shakira in concert in her home town of Barranquilla. Needless to say the stadium for the show was filled to capacity with a crowd that danced and sung the night away - crazy stuff. Very nice midrift too.
Before I knew it I was back in Panama so did the obvious and headed for the canal to watch a ship pass through the Miraflores locks. I guess the locks are some thing you need to see to really appreciate the impressive engineering feat that is the Panama canal, more so when you consider it was completed nearly 100 years ago.
The last leg of my central american odessy was to San Jose, Costa Rica, where I stayed for a couple of days before catching a flight out to the states. With 8 month's of travel under my belt fatigue was definitely starting to set in! November 13 Cuba, Mexico, Guatemala & HondurasAfter a lay over in Cancun I was back to the airport to board my flight to Havana which I discovered was a solid Russian aircraft. After making my way through the 4 foot high entrance door to the aircraft I discovered that the same idiot that designed the door also did the seating pitch which seemed to be set up for midgets and above knee double amputees. By some miracle I managed to get an exit row seat from which I smiled happily to the other passengers. My smile soon turned to a chuckle as we sped down the runway and the air conditioning kicked in filling the cabin with dry air vapor the consistency of smoke which caused a few alarming looks. Thankfully the landing was uneventful which I was quite happy about. (After arriving I read the section in my guide book which tells you that Cubana had back to back crashes in 1999 - was pretty glad I didn't read that before I left!)
I spent the first few days in Havana in one of the many casa particulares, basically where you stay with local family in a their house. My morning routine was to lean on the balcony sipping my coffee watching Havana wake up which also included the morning greetings to all the neighbours and a bit of a chat with the land lady. A very friendly bunch really.
One of the first things that became apparent about Cuba was that it was hot, damn hot! Walking around the streets of old Havana became a challenge of finding shade and a breeze! The next thing was that it is an expensive place to visit with the government getting hold of the tourism bug about 5 years ago and turning the place into a tour bus destination. A good part of the extra money you pay to visit Cuba is being spent on restoring all the old building and giving them a lick of paint to smarten them up and make it pleasant on the tourists eyes. All of the old cars that you hear about were running around the streets along with plenty of Korean imports and surprisingly loads of american trucks which were towing the ¨bombay buses¨ around town. Also if you're after Che memorabillia then you've come to the right place there are T-shirts, paintings, pictures, the list just goes on!
Whilst in town I visited the Revolution museum which gave a great in sight into the history of Cuba and the revolutionary struggle. Also visited the rum museum which could be summed up as a tour through a sauna with a great train set and a shot of 7 year old rum to finish it off! The cigar factory tour was only slightly cooler but a lot more interesting as our guide walked and talked us through the various steps in making a cigar. The best part was definitely watching a cigar be made - lots of cutting and rolling done at pace - quite an art really. With the sights of Havana ticked off it was an easy choice to head to the beaches east of Havana to work on my tan and cool off in the sea which in fact was warmer than most of the showers I had in Cuba!
With my Euros which I'd carried all the way from Spain disappearing at a fast rate (Money machines only accept credit cards provided they aren't issued by american banks and incur a 10% surcharge - yikes!) it was time to head back to Mexico and I'm happy to say that my return flight was on a nice european made Airbus aircraft with lots of leg room. My arrival back in Cancun was a bit of a shock to the system as it's like a little part of America although the improved quality and variety of food was most welcome.
My first stop whilst in Mexico was San Cristobal, a nice little old colonial town and good place to cool and heals and only an 18 hour overnight bus ride to get there! From here I back tracked to Palenque to visit the Mayan Ruins which were an impressive collection of stone temples and structures. This place was also a finals contender for the hottest place on earth, even with my fan running at full throttle I reckon the temperature in my room was still in the mid thirties!
The reason I had decided to back track to Palenque was to cross the border and head to the Mayan Ruins at Tikal which involved a bus ride to the Mexican border post and another from the Guatemalan border post to Flores. In between was a very relaxing and enjoyable boat ride down the river - all onboard agreed that this was definitely the most pleasant way to cross a border.
After a large evening out with my new border crossing friends, which David and I carried on a little longer than was necessary, I managed 2 hours sleep before I was thankfully awoken by Ann banging on my door to get on the bus for Tikal. Just over an hour later we got off the bus and commenced our 30 minutes walk through the jungle in the dark which ended with a gut busting climb up some stairs that would be condemned by any OHS inspector, the end result was to sit on the steps of Temple 4 and watch the sun come up. Unfortunately it was not much of a sunrise due to the cloud but it did mean the majority of our tour was conducted in the coolest part of the day which is a good thing if you're hungover and climbing temples. Most people come to Tikal to see the temples interspersed through the jungle which is a fantastic sight but in Mayan times the whole area was actually cleared of trees which I think would have looked equally impressive. Each to there own I guess. Either way the mayans certainly put a lot of work into this place with something like 4000 buildings or temples in the area of which as a tourist you only see a fraction.
Next stop on my itinerary was Rio Dulce, reportedly about three and a half hours down the road - we got there in under three which should give you an indication of the type of ride we had! From here I did a day trip down the river of the same name to Livingston with a dip in the thermal springs and a hunt for the illusive manatees - none seen.
It was also in Rio Dulce that I met Keith, an Australian Vietnam veteran, who has been plying the waters of the Carribean for nearly 20 years. Over a couple of late nights and a few quiet beers he told me a few of his stories including a first hand account of the battle of Long Tan which will be invaluable when I visit the site of the battle in Vietnam. Definitely a big highlight of my trip.
From Rio Dulce I did a little side trip to Copan Ruinas just over the border in Honduras - seven hours and four bus changes later I arrived!
Copan Ruinas is another Mayan site which is famous for its Stelae's (stone carved statues) which it has plenty of along with a few sizable temples I might add. My stay will always be memorable for the first sleepless night as the in house bar played loud music till the small hours and for the extremely loud war flick which was being played until late directly above my room on the second night.
From here I crossed back into Guatemala and headed to Antigua, reportedly a backpackers paradise which it proved to be with lots of gringo orientated restaurants and bars to visit. Antigua was also refreshingly cool thanks to its altitude which was a pleasant change from the jungle. From here I did a day trip to the Pacaya volcano which I found out has been pretty active in the last 6-8 months spewing lava all down the hill side. Not long after starting out it became alarmingly obvious that I had boarded a van with the worst driver on the planet - its a unique individual that can make you car sick in a traffic jam! Our tour up the volcano was relatively sedate in comparison with plenty of opportunities to get close to the fresh lava flows. We thanked the volcano for not blowing up on us before we left, all we had to do now was make it back to Antigua in one piece!
Next stop El Salvador October 23 BoliviaAfter an early start, a manic border crossing, a change of bus and a military check point I finally coasted into La Paz, a pretty wee city nestled in a valley with an elevation ranging between about 3600 and 4000 metres. In this town the rich live at the low end.
No problem feeling lonely though as my new found Hungarian, Dutch and Australian friends whom I'd met in Peru were all in town.
No piligramage to La Paz is complete without partaking in the mountain bike ride down the worlds most dangerous road and hey it's all down hill isn't it?! So it was I found myself one of only two people standing round in shorts at 4750 metres ready for the start of the ride - the other short wearer was the kiwi guide on the second group. The first 20k's of the ride is on tarseal so was pretty fast and gave everyone an opportunity to get the feel of their bikes. It was on this section that I discovered that it was not all downhill with about 6k's of gentle rises proving real lung bursters at an altitude in excess of 10,000 feet! With that out of the way we moved onto the narrow gravel roads which sorted the group out a bit as people started to slow down, I on the other hand started passing and provided lots of entertainment for the other riders as I charged down the hill. At the end of the day it was a successful ride with no injuries, plenty of dust injested, a few close calls and a couple of cold beers at the end.
With La Paz under my belt it was on to Potosi to stay with John an old work mate from Peru now working on a project to build a new process plant which will clean up all the mine tailings from the adjacent hill which is full of silver and like a block of swiss cheese with all the tunnels dug in it which date back to the days of the conquistadors. At 4090 metres Potosi is apparently the highest city in the world and in its day was the largest silver mine in South America in the time of the conquistadors, needless to say things are a lot quieter these days. So it was a relaxing weekend in Potosi catching up with John over a few drinks plus a bit of a tour of the area including a visit to some of the local hot pools which are infamous with the locals for the whirlpool in the middle which has claimed a few lives. Well we didn't find a whirlpool, just a few bubbles from the thermal activity below so I'm guessing they're probably not the worlds best swimmers although to be fair it is hard work paddling around in a pool at 10,000 feet!
Stowing my gear with John I did a little side trip to the east with a night in Sucre which is the old capital of the country and a nice one at that. The next day I opted for the 25 minute flight over a 20 hour bus ride and headed to Santa Cruz which is a warm little place at a nice low altitude of 400 metres. Whilst in town I went to the local zoo which is packed full of jungle wild life from parrots to pumas and the day I went loads of local kids who took a great deal of pleasure in tauting the big cats.
Before I knew it it was time to head back to the airport for my return flight. Now an Aerosur flight is something to behold at the best of times as the hostesses never seem to take their seats and manage to serve food and drinks to about 100 people during the 25 minute flight, a feat some airlines fail to do in twice that. The flight was going really well up to the landing where upon we fell out of the air with the pilot finally managing to get the plane to stay on the runway on his third attempt at putting the undercarriage through the wing. By this time I had noted how far we had progressed down the runway and began running through the emergency exit procedure in my mind as I prepared for the aircraft to run off the end of the said runway. Thankfully the emergency exits weren't required as through what little skill the pilot did possess and application of some very heavy braking we managed to stop before this occurred. So with with a ceiling panel or two dangling from the roof and even the hostesses looking a bit shocked we rolled to a stop outside the terminal. Not surprisingly no one clapped after this landing as they were probably still trying to work out if we had crashed or been shot down.
With one night left in Potosi it was time for a farewell dinner at one of the local establishments which just happened to have a live band.
Now upon my arrival John had introduced me to Caipirinhas, a refreshing spirit mixed with limes, sugar and ice which hails from Brazil. After a few jugs of caipirinhas we had conquered the dance floor and wooed the local ladies with our moves. The next morning was a different story though with John having a wee lie in and me nursing a dance injury. Fortunately for John he only had to go to work, I on the other hand endured the longest six hour bus rid over a gravel road of my life. So it was that I found myself in Uyuni, the jumping off point for the salar or salt lakes and quite frankly it doesn't really offer much more than that.
So having signed up for a three day tour we headed off into the blinding flat expanse of white which is the salar - if you wanted to break a land speed record this is definitely the place you would come. The local people still harvest the salt by hand and without sunglasses then package it up for sale around South America - I'm guessing the cataract rate is pretty high in these parts.
With the Salar done the remainder of the trip was spent driving across the barren expanse which exists above 4000 metres visiting various lakes and seeing hundreds and hundreds of flamingos, a real highlight for all those gravel road enthusiasts out there. The dip in the hot springs on the final day was fantastic.
With my time running out quickly I felt the need for more Argentinian steak so set off on a marathon trip starting with a 5am jeep out of Uyuni and finally arriving in Salta at 1:30am the next day - trust me it was well worth the trip.
Next stop Central America October 13 PeruFirst stop in Peru was Lima, a familiar town from my time working here so it was off to check out a few of the old haunts and see what had changed. Whilst in town I also managed to take in a few sites including the national museum which is a pottery fan's dream.
After a couple of sleep in's and with clean clothes packed I headed to Huaraz, about 7 hours north of Lima nestled between the cordillera negro and blanca mountain ranges at just over 3000 metres. It was here that I found the best hostel in the world - La casa de Zarela. Thanks to Zarela's tips on places to go and people to see I soon settled into Huaraz life.
Part of my mission whilst in town was to go for a walk in the hills - well more like a leisurely stroll around the Santa Cruz trail with donkey's carrying my pack, tent erected on arrival and 5 star meals - not sure if I can do it any other way now! I seemed to be a bit of a novelty on the trail as the only guy in shorts - nothing unusual if you're an antipodean, although may be a little bizarre at 4750 metres.
I spent a few days recovering in Huaraz after completing the trek with a visit to the tepid rust coloured water of the natural springs and an appearance or three carving up the dance floor at the El Tambo discoteque.
Next on the agenda was a long weekend of great kiwi hospitality with the Dixon family in Lima who's numbers had increased by two since my last visit. Thanks Steve and Carmen - see you in NZ next year?
With difficulty I managed to push on for Nasca, famous for lots of lines and drawings in the desert best seen from the air. Whilst waiting for the order to board our plane I found myself watching what I hoped was not our pilot sit in the plane for ten minutes with the engine running between idle and red line - I´m guessing he was trying to figure out how to turn it off which he eventually succeeded in doing. Our pilot finally turned up and duely climbed into the plane, fired it up and we were off - I assume he figured the guy that had the problem turning the engine off had done the pre-flight. His mag check prior to take off was reassuring although the application of trim after take off suggested some type of drug may still be trying to work its way out of his system. The rest of the flight was relatively uneventful with our pilot managing to keep us within a few hundred feet of his planned flying altitude and giving us great views of the Nasca lines abeit some due to our low altitude!
My first visit to Arequipa in five years was a real surprise, the place had turned into a tourism mecca with tour agents lining the streets along with plenty of flash new restaurants, cafes and bars. Also pleasing to see was the restored cathedral in the Plaza de Armas as the last time I was here one of the towers was gone and the other was being held up with a miriad of scaffolding due to the earthquake in 2001.
Whilst in town I took a tour of the Colca Canyon area, what was the deepest canyon in the world but is now the third deepest after another two were found in the same area. The main reason for the trip was to see the condors which proved to be pretty spectacular as they rode the thermals some flying only metres overhead. Taking photos of a 3 metre plus wing span bird would seem to be a simple task but it did present a few challenges as they flew past at speeds up to 70km/h! Thankfully there were only about 400 people there for the spectacle rather that the up to 3000 during the peak season!
My next planned stop was Copacabana in Boliva but upon arriving in Puno on the shores of lake Titicaca at 4am in the morning I found that the road was still blockaded by the locals who weren´t too happy with the government. So rather than sit around freezing my arse off in the bus station I decided an enforced stay in Puno was required and promptly found some accommodation with plenty of blankets!
Whilst in town I took a trip out to Taquila island on Lake Titicaca to see how the locals live - from what I saw and was told it seemed to be the peruvian equivalent of a mormen community. Next stop was the Isla flotantes or floating islands - islands made of reeds which the inhabitants have to continually add more reeds to in order to replace the ones rotting away. It's a bit like living on a sponge as the island moves under your weight as you walk along. Commericalism has really hit these guys with twinkle twinkle little star being sung to the gringo's in three languages! Feel free to tip.
The general concensus among the travellers I met was that everyone wanted to get out of Puno. And so it was, onto a bus bound for the Bolivian border - cheap travelling and crap food by all reports. August 16 Columbia - EcuadorWell I managed to survive my flight to Columbia despite the best efforts of the pilot to drive the landing gear up through the wing. I'm guessing it was his first day on the job.
My first night in Bogota was a chilly one which emphasized the altitude factor over our proximity to the equator, whilst my first meal quickly reminded me how spoilt I´d been munching on Argentinian steak! Although to be fair Columbia would probably have the best drugs in South America.
I soon found my newly acquired transportable skill of stepping around dog shit, honed on the narrow side walks of Buenos Aires, a vital necessity on the streets of Bogota with no shortage of obstacles to negotiate. My first port of call was the gold museum with many fine pieces on display - those being the ones which the conquistadors didn´t melt down. There are also plenty of old buildings to take in with the exception being the Courts building which was destroyed by the military trying to literally smoke out a few guerillas - they succeeded by destroying the building. There was also no shortage of armed men in khaki around town to help show who is in charge, some even complemented their automatic rifle with a low slung pistol.
Next stop was Cali on an overnight bus which was a bit like catching a ride in a formula 1 car - for those of you that don't know Columbia has a couple of mountain ranges upon which they have built the main cities so to get from one mountain range to another you have to go down then up again, needless to say a night trip around hair pin bends is probably the best option - ignorance is bliss. Less said about the drivers passing maneuvers the better.
Initially my plan was to stay in Cali for two nights but this continued to be extended for a number of reasons. The first being the inauguration of the President of Columbia where it was pointed out to me that tensions may be a bit high and travel may not be that safe during this time - considering the fact that a car bomb was detonated in front of a police station the same day I arrived in town I figured I could hang around a little longer. By a freak coincidence the guys in my hotel were a good bunch and we ended up having a couple of roof parties to fill in the time over the inauguration. My two day stay turned into a week. Unfortunately by the end of the week our group had been reduced due to the fact that some people have jobs and must go back to work.
One of our favourite pastimes was to sit out the front of the hotel watching the world go by sipping coffee or cervesa depending on the time of day and who you were. Bruce and I were doing just that when a local hood took it upon himself to rob the lady over the road who had just withdrawn a large wedge of cash from the bank. A bit of a gun fight ensued between the robber and security guard which thankfully was only with revolvers so there weren't too many bullets flying. Bruce was quick to point out the fact the guy had a gun and dragged me to the ground. Our greatest danger was being in the security guard's field of fire with Bruce making a dash and taking cover behind a concrete wall whilst I melted into the corner. Bruce couldn't understand why I didn't follow him? The simple explanation was I was watching the security guard shooting in our direction so I moved out of his line of fire where as Bruce ran into it, something he wasn't aware of as he was hiding behind me at the time. Thankfully no one was hit although the buildings had a couple of scars. Bruce was just happy he didn't spill his coffee. The security video was replayed repeatedly to everyone's amusement which only elevated our fame. Unfortuately I couldn't stay in Cali forever so I headed to Quito and found the place crawling with gringo's which was a bit of a shock to the system. Quito is also quite high up. No worries though, next stop is my old stomping ground of Peru the home of ceviche and pisco sour. July 28 Argentina-UruguayMy arrival in Buenos Aires was a celebration to the guys that invented the instrument landing system which allowed our plane to break through the cloud base at about 300 feet and find ourselves pretty much on the runway. After 10 or so hours in the air I´m also guessing that the pilot just wanted to get us on the ground.
The overcast cold day was a bit of a shock to the system after three months of european and african sun in addition to the past 5 years of warm climates, luckily I had been carrying around a stack of winter clothing which was instantly pressed into service.
I spent the first couple of days in BA walking around in a daze partly due to the cold but mainly due to the fact that no one was harrassing me for money or trying to rip me off. To help get through this period I consumed a
number of large beautifully cooked steaks with a nice red or two to wash them down. Having lost three kilo's and putting another hole in my belt since departing it seemed only wise to fatten myself up for the southern winter. In between meals I took in the sites of BA with its bustling downtown and posh Palermo cafe's. As was the case in Europe and Morocco the place came to a stand still during the world cup football matches - the locals were of course disappointed with their team's exit from the competition but thrilled that Brazil was also out of the running. A side trip to Uruguay was next on the agenda with a 3 hour ferry ride to Montevideo a comparatively quiet city. I soon discovered that I was in a country of big drinkers when I asked for a beer and was handed a litre
bottle! I guess that's what they call a stubby around here?! Next stop was the town of Colonia, a quiet little place which apparently fills up with Argentinians out to party on the weekend. I was there mid week. A finely timed return to BA and a dash to the airport had me on a plane to Puerto Iguacu - that's the top right hand corner of Argentina for all you geography buffs. It is here where the borders of Paraguay, Brazil and
Argentina meet that you find the Iguacu falls - a pretty spectacular water feature which attracts plenty of tourists. It is also the place where I found myself standing in my boxers with a lifejacket on waiting for a boat which would take me underneath the said falls and I got the pleasure of paying for it too. Some how my new english travel buddies, Tom and Laura, had talked me into this. Needless to say it was very refreshing although I didn't attract as much attention as the lads in their budgie smugglers. We also discovered Argentina still seems to have a bit of a thing for the Falkland Islands or Malvinas as they like to call them with a monument being erected only days earlier in town. Needless to say don't mention the war! It here also here that we met Erika, a reporter with the Miami Herald and avid hurricane hunter including Katrina which wiped out New Orleans, needless to say she had plenty of interesting stories. No stay in Iguacu is complete though without a visit to the Cuba Libre bar where we discovered how the local liquor has the ability to clear a large portion of the dance floor for Shakira impersonations.
With that all done it was time to move on, for me it was a very comfortable bus to Cordoba which didn't impress much which prompted a move to Mendoza, the heart of the Argentinian wine industry - just to be sure I was in the right place I took a wine tour which confirmed the same. Also on the agenda was a trip up to the snow in Los Penitentes next to the Chilean border, a fantastically day gave us great views of Aconcagua, the highest mountain in these parts.
After this tranquil wee break it was time to head back to Buenos Aires for a few spanish lessons which only proved to confuse me more as Argentinians use vos instead of tu for you and Portenas (Buenos Aires residents) say "sho" instead of "y" for ll - needless to say confusion rained. Friday has arrived though so will be out on the town tonight and on the weekend to do a bit more conversational practise. Off to Columbia on Tuesday.
June 30 MoroccoIf the guide book was to be believed Tangiers and Morocco was going to be hell on earth with the streets full of pick pockets and husslers - this is not a country for women travelling alone! Armed with this information and with all valuble documentation and money secreted away in various body crevices we took our tentative first steps into Morocco and were met by no one. So the reported crack down by the recently formed tourist police seemed to have done the trick - in Tangiers at least.
Our intial move was to get out of Dodge so to speak and we headed to the imperial city of Meknes. We felt like the only tourists in town the next day as we strolled through the medina until the tour bus rolled into the viewing screen of my camera. The souk was a pretty quiet affair with Marny quickly learning how to extract ones self from the clutches of a carpet salesman!
In search of something bigger and brighter we moved onto the next imperial city of Fes and a guided tour of the medina and souk. We started on one side and came out on the other - in between we walked down a series of twisted alleys past the various souks - ceramics, herbs, blacksmiths, tannery and leather shops, clothes, shoes, rugs, veges, meat, pretty much everything really, some more striking on the senses than others.
With Marny feeling a few sore muscles from her run in Granada and with a hot spot tip from Gail we made our way to the thermal resort of Moulay Yacoub. An afternoon of sauna, hot pool and massage had us emerging rejuvenated with all toxins expunged from our systems - fantastic!
The following day Marny had enough of my snoring and ego and decided to head for Rabat while I continued south to Ouarzazate and the hills. I made my way to the bus station to book my ticket and was relieved to see a large road map of Morocco on the wall. With us both standing in front of the map, me pointing at Ouarzazate on the map and saying "wa-za-zart" (actual pronounciation) and the ticket seller nodding vigorously I thought great that was easy. I was then handed a ticket for Rissani?! Searching frantically on the map I found it - about 500km's away in the desert! With the ticket salesman standing in front of the map and me pointing first at Ouarzazate then Rissani I did my best arabic "what the ...?". He put on his glasses (!!!) and began nodding vigorously again and saying "Rissani". Repeating this a few times I could see things were going no where so got out the guide book and had a read having never heard of Rissani before - not too much of a detour I decided and it was on the way to Todra Gorge. So I relented, Rissani and the desert it was.
A trip to the internet cafe in the afternoon soon revealed the drama of typing on a moroccan keyboard as noted by Jo on her trip the previous month - the buggers have moved the a, w and m keys for a start which makes touch typing a nightmare!
The overnight bus trip to Rissani was an uneventful affair and I paired up with four Poles to go and spend a night in the desert. My new Polish friends had decided to spend the night in the dunes in a berber tent, I preferred the mud and straw hut option despite the fact that a number of the surrounding Auberges had collapsed or been washed away killing seven people and 50 camels during the recent rain and resultant flood from the water converging in the wadis. We actually looked out over a lake at the sand dunes. But being the only one in the camp and with some good old Moroccan coercion I relented and decided to join the others in to the desert for the night. The camel ride over the dunes was great although a little taxing on the behind. The climb up the dune for the sunset was a lung burster but we were rewarded with a fantastic chicken tangine in our tent that night care of our berber guide. The morning brought the reality of sleeping in the desert home as we woke to find sand in every body crevice and cavity thanks to a decent breeze which had blown up overnight. I was still shaking out sand when I rolled into Tinerhir that night.
Rising early the next day I caught a taxi up to todra gorge - a narrow gorge with vertical sides rising hundreds of metres up either side of the road and two hotels they had managed to squeeze into the gap. It was also here where I met a very interesting aussie couple, Trevor and Marg, who had been travelling since 1991! They declined to join me on my walk over the top of the gorge instead sending Dan, a Canadian, to join me for the three hour stroll. In the afternoon we walked down through the palmeraies - a long strip of green oasis surrounded by rock, much talk of cold beer hastened our return to Tinerhir where we caught up with our aussie pals for a well deserved beer.
I had a rest day in Ouarzazate then it was on to Marrakesh for an assault on the senses. I stayed in the medina at the Hotel Ali which as promised had the characteristics of a bus station! Djemaa el-Fna square was a relatively quiet affair during the day with plenty of fresh orange juice sellers whilst at night it was chocker block full of drugged snakes being charmed, pick pockets, food stalls and people. My souk tour resulted in the purchase of a wooly hat, a head scarf, and a pair of hairy sandals.
On to the hills and the village of Imlil next where I meet a couple of female lawyers from Casablanca who gave me the low down on the in's and out's of Moroccan society. Also managed to get a bout of delhi belly here which put the hand brake on my hopes of summitting Jebel Toubkal. No problem though as the cool air of Imlil was a refreshing change to the desert.
A must on any new country's to do list is to go to the beach, so I did. I arrived in Essaouira the day after their music festival to find the place still packed with people. Thankfully they were all making their way out of town and the place returned to its normal touristy sleepy hollow. I teamed up with a dutch couple, Paul and Rolina, and took in a few of the local sites including indulging in a hammam. Paul and I duely presented ourselves with some idea of what was in store for us with Rolina being the guinea pig earlier in the day during the women's session. The basic sequence of events during a hammam is to have warm water thrown over you in buckets then an olive oil based soap applied to soften the skin, more buckets of warm water then a little skinny guy proceeds to scrub all the dead and in some areas not so dead skin off your body. This is then followed by more buckets of water, soap, more water, then (just for the guys we discovered) buckets of cold water. The end result is silky smooth skin and some areas of "carpet burn" where they got a bit too enthusiastic!
With my cultural immersion complete I spent the remaining time in Essaouira sunning myself and enjoying a couple of cold beers.
Last stop on this part of the tour is Casablanca where I plan on resting up in anticipation for South America! |
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