It's a long one...
So the start of the holiday didn't go too smoothy..., recieving a phone call from Fez at 6:30am in the morning saying "Where are you??", after previously agreeing to meet outside our flats at 6am. Of course Spanish time wasn't an excuse here, nor was the fact I went to bed at 4am packing and cleaning so that the flat wasn't a mess for when Matt and Carlos returned from their travels! After rushing to get ready and getting outside at a record time after walking up (5 minutes!, and yes, I overslept...), we took a taxi straight to the Estacion del Norte in the city centre because we didn't have time to walk to the metro. Two hours sleep wasn't ideal, but there was going to be a lot of travelling ahead to catch up!
From here we caught the train to Alicante with Renfe again, costing around 13 euros, then a bus onto the aeropuerto. Myself and Fez passed the time outside guessing the nationalities of passers by...and yes there were so many British, loving the Spanish package holidays! - It's now become a joke that whenever a fat pale girl is seen, she must be British! (And I didn't influence!).
Problema numero dos:
So I didn't print my boarding pass for the flight with RyanAir - Doh! Instead I printed the wrong document and had to pay 40 euros at the airport, despite already checking in and presenting my passport. Knowing this was my mistake, it really pissed me off, and not only could I not believe there was no customer service to help me print one piece of A4 paper (to which they shouldn't need a hard copy anyway considering they already have my booking confirmation on their system), but also, the fact that there was no available printer at the effing airport. I guess this is how airlines makes money. Profits over customer service!
Asking both the tourism office and a couple of stores at the airport to print my document didn't help, as they were unable/not allowed to. The nearest place to print it out was an Internet cafe 3km away, which would have cost 24 euros there and back by taxi - so definitely not worth it...I paid the 40. Oh well, this whole semester hsa been about wasting money, why not give some more?! I'll still need to print the vuelta (return) boarding pass for the flight back, otherwise the same will happen again. So realising I've written two paragraphs on this stupid boardind pass, I'm going to shutup! We're going to Fez!
We got on the plane in Morrocan time (which we'd soon to find out made the Spanish CET+15 minutes sound very reasonable). On-board, air hosts that looked to have been pulled out of a pub to work for RyanAir, and one of the most manly women I've seen, carrying a plastic bag down the isle, myself persuming it's purpose was for catching vomit as she walked past, not for rubbish!
We're in Morocco!
Walking outside the plane - instant warmth! The airport was tiny, and actually smaller than one of the train stations, but it had a nice surrounding area. We exchanged 100 euros to dirhams (a currency we'd become very familiar with soon!) 1000 dirhams felt a lot, with the exchange rate being roughly 1 euro to 10 dirham.
There were no real transport links to and from the airport, only taxis (or more like random un-qualified drivers in banged-out old Mercedes, with broken door handles, speedometers and poles holding the two front seats together), constantly stopping by tourists looking for work. At first sight this seemed really dodgy, and after being asked by about 10 different taxi drivers where we were wanting to get to, we finally settled for one. Fez was more familiar with these people pressuring you, as he'd only recently returned back from Syria and Lebanon. Sometimes the taxis don't tell you a price until you get in the car, and even if they do say, it's garanteed to cost Cinquante dirham! Yea, it was funny how throughout the trip, this seemed to be the price for absulutely everything...
There aren't really any rules for driving in Morocco, and only a few times did we see traffic lights. Taxi's race around, overtaking in the smallest of gaps. The quicker they go, the more jobs/money they get, which is different to some of the taxis we're used to that purposely waste time to rack up the money on the counter. As an automatic thing to do I went to put my seatbelt on (for the 1 in 10 taxis that had them), but it didn't go down well, with the driver stopping me saying 'No no' - I guess it's offensive and shows you aren't safe with them...Haha, ridiculous but funny!
The taxi took us 20km into the city. As soon as the taxi driver finished (or rather when the taxi driver just randomly stopped the car and got out without saying anything, leaving us like 'wtf?'), we promptly followed. I was suspicious of him driving off with our luggage in the boot (or trunk as the Americans say). So this told us we were in the city, which turns out to be a series of narrow medina streets with small inlets and stores (the general defintion of stores being:- random objects, fake goods and other shit being leant against any floor or wall a vendor could find).
We were really surprised at how undeveloped it was and my first thoughts were: What the hell are we doing here?? - At the time it felt like a stupid decision to fly to the poorest area we could find, but it would soon become worth it. Outside of the medina streets was the 'new Fez', a slightly nicer area that we didn't realise existed until the second or third day, but where we stayed was best to experience the real Morocco.
It was pretty depressing seeing everyone without money. People were generally unhappy and fustrated - bickering with each other all the time. Restaurant/cafe owners would constantly come up to you (seeing tourists with backpacks), persistant in saying they can offer us "good stuffs!", and that you should eat or stay the night at their places. One guy chased us 2-3 times, even across a couple of streets after telling him 'No, we're not interested' - "just go back to your cafe!!" With the other guys being more comfortable ignoring and walking past, I said to him we'd already reserved a hostel for the night, and can't change it - this went down much better and he wished me a good time in Morocco. These people should understand that we're never going to visit your place if they ask us to in desperation! The hassling gets really annoying, and a couple of times we were told to "eff off". Haha
After struggling to sort out our first night accommodation in Fez, due to the hostel actually being a shithole with neither a reception or enough beds that they garanteed us, we found another close-by in the medina. Waking up at 4am with the sounds of Aaaahhhh Uhhh Ihhh wasn't something we expected, (and No, this wasn't the couple in the room next to us), it was Morrocan's praying!! - Was really strange and 'wtf-ish' waking up to that. These sounds made me go crazy as the trip went on, and we considered buying a music cd which would always remind us of our Morrcan experience.
We got up pretty early the next day and took a taxi to a place overlooking the city. It looked like a series of shanty towns from India/Brazil or something...Upon stopping, the taxi driver kissed the king on the 20 dirham note, to which Fez (who can speak a different dialect of Arabic), translated for us - It was a jesture of saying 'The day has started'. There are about five pictures of the king on every Moroccan wall...another small irritation!
In the evening we watched the Champions League match between Man Utd vs Bayern Munich, in some dodgy back of a shop with 40+ year old guys smoking weed all night, to which passively I was too - couldn't breath! There were a few descrete hand deals going in the room too. So with the match - no surprise, the Germans won...leaving myself and Leifur a bit pissed!
Casablanca (the economic Capital) a three hour train journey from Fez
An old destroyed hotel - I climbed up
some of it before a raging alien-like dog
started chasing me - it definitely wanted
me for dinner. I went into oh-shit panic
mode and moved in any other direction
than the dog. Not knowing what I was
standing on, and losing a sandal in the
meantime, I ended up jumping off
what my friends said to be a 2 meter
wall (they found it halarious).
<--- dog was over there.
Being in Casablanca, and the others keen to find a pub or pub, we searched around and came across three places. The first being a hotel, where we were guided through a few corridors further inside the building, into a dark morrocan style room. It had a strange atmosphere and the camareros (waitors) treated us really well (it seemed almost too well as if they wanted to impress us), with three of four of them constantly surrounding us. They started putting fruits on the table without us asking, and it's a typical thing that they don't give you a choice and give a nasty bill at the end, so I made sure the food was free of charge. After about an hour of this we concluded to 'get the hell of there', and went to find place number 2!
The next place looked nicer, a three-floored building with a bar at the top. After passing a monster-sized girl on the way up, and seeing many fat sluts walking around upstairs, we realised their purpose was to entertain the customers to keep them buying drinks. So from this point we called it a whorehouse!
The last club we went to was much more western, called Jet7. It was the first time we saw the modern life of Moroccans, and also the first time we heard European music, (which was influenced by the three of us turning up!).
The next day was for exploring more of Casablanca. We went for a walking tour recommended by the LonelyPlanet book, but actually many of the places we saw weren't exciting. It was nice to eat in a proper restaurant after being in Fez, and I've now decided Spaghetti Carbonara is my favourite dish!
right: Myself, Leifur and Fez, at the Namarroch synagogue.
Heading south to Marrakech! (the touristic Capital)
We took the train from Casa to Marrakech, which lasted for about four hours. I expected the idea of a train to be more of a 'jump on anywhere and hold onto an outside pole' sort of thing, but actually it was better than I expected!
Marrakech gave great first impressions - the streets were nicer and newer, people looked less miserable, and it felt comforting seeing tourists in mass, as up to this point we were the only ones really. None of us wanted to stay a night in the medina again, so we decided to stay in a better hotel which was 550 durams for the three of us, roughly 19 euros for each.
Haggling is great, and always works in your favour. You ask how much something is, and if it's too expensive, suggest a joke of a low price, then they meet you halfway and still get a good deal! Pretending to not be interested and walking away also makes them agree to a better price. The other two guys were looking to buy sandals but had no luck, so one vendor took off his own shoes and offered them! Fez heard one vendor say to another, "Give them your shoes!". Really funny.
A 2-day excursion to the desert!
In Marrakech we saw a few shops offering excursions, and this was definitely what I was most looking forward to! We chose the 2-day, 1-night option to Zagora, seeing Draa Valley and Ouazazate along the way costing 550 dhms. After paying the 200 dhm deposit, and hoping the bus would actually turn up at 7am instead of being a scam (it wasn't luckily), we met other tourists in our group - mainly Spanish and Italians, and made our way through the nothingness of Morocco. This was really relaxing after being in the cities. There were many small undeveloped villages completely separate from everywhere else - so tranquillo, no stress!
The long journey was a bit of a killer, and it was particulary comforting seeing the bus driver talking on the phone while driving round cliff-top corners! We stopped at Ouazazate and randomly bumped into two of our Finnish friends from VLC - Tapio and Heiki! - Didn't even know they were in Morocco!
The minibus journey gave us a lot of time to brainstorm 20 different ways to die in a Moroccan desert - here are some random ones we came up with...:
1. Fall off and get trampled on by camel.
2. Get attacked by camel-spider - in our minds these were built up to be monsters.
3. Get stung by scorpion during sleep.
4. Getting stranded, starve to death.
5. Failing to reach desert, bus falling off a cliff.
The camel ride was great, but more uncomfortable than expected. 1 hour and 30 minutes was more than enough, knowing we were to use them in the morning again. All the camels were linked behind each other, so it was probably an over-optimisitc expectation to think we'd be able to split off a bit and have individual control! It was also a shame none of the camels went into rage-mode!
So in the morning we were woken at 6:30am, with a nice pre-'get up and be outside' time of around 30 seconds! After some quick breakfast we were on the camels again, and headed back to the autobus. Next time, we'd definitely take a quad bikes!
It was great to see the desert and get a bit of summer heat - my favourite part of the trip, but it involved a lot of travelling and it became less of a holiday! So the last couple of days we got a nice hotel with a swimming pool to chill.
De vuelta en Espana!
Thanks to RyanAir delaying our flight for 30 minutes, it meant our train from Alicante to Valencia was going to be cut fine...Luckily we arrived a couple of minutes early (perfect timing!), although Leifur missed it due to not buying a train ticket before the trip...so he had to stay another night in Alicante, LOL.
It was great to experience Morocco, but I definitely wouldn't want to go there again. So glad to be back in Spain - everything feels normal again, civilisation, development, happier people, a nice language to the ears. I don't think I could have listened to that Arabic for much longer - really unattractive and goes beneath German on my least favourite languages...(the language sounded like the noises of someone being punched in the stomach).
No hay nada mas que decir..., Hasta luego!
So the start of the holiday didn't go too smoothy..., recieving a phone call from Fez at 6:30am in the morning saying "Where are you??", after previously agreeing to meet outside our flats at 6am. Of course Spanish time wasn't an excuse here, nor was the fact I went to bed at 4am packing and cleaning so that the flat wasn't a mess for when Matt and Carlos returned from their travels! After rushing to get ready and getting outside at a record time after walking up (5 minutes!, and yes, I overslept...), we took a taxi straight to the Estacion del Norte in the city centre because we didn't have time to walk to the metro. Two hours sleep wasn't ideal, but there was going to be a lot of travelling ahead to catch up!
From here we caught the train to Alicante with Renfe again, costing around 13 euros, then a bus onto the aeropuerto. Myself and Fez passed the time outside guessing the nationalities of passers by...and yes there were so many British, loving the Spanish package holidays! - It's now become a joke that whenever a fat pale girl is seen, she must be British! (And I didn't influence!).
Problema numero dos:
So I didn't print my boarding pass for the flight with RyanAir - Doh! Instead I printed the wrong document and had to pay 40 euros at the airport, despite already checking in and presenting my passport. Knowing this was my mistake, it really pissed me off, and not only could I not believe there was no customer service to help me print one piece of A4 paper (to which they shouldn't need a hard copy anyway considering they already have my booking confirmation on their system), but also, the fact that there was no available printer at the effing airport. I guess this is how airlines makes money. Profits over customer service!
Asking both the tourism office and a couple of stores at the airport to print my document didn't help, as they were unable/not allowed to. The nearest place to print it out was an Internet cafe 3km away, which would have cost 24 euros there and back by taxi - so definitely not worth it...I paid the 40. Oh well, this whole semester hsa been about wasting money, why not give some more?! I'll still need to print the vuelta (return) boarding pass for the flight back, otherwise the same will happen again. So realising I've written two paragraphs on this stupid boardind pass, I'm going to shutup! We're going to Fez!
We got on the plane in Morrocan time (which we'd soon to find out made the Spanish CET+15 minutes sound very reasonable). On-board, air hosts that looked to have been pulled out of a pub to work for RyanAir, and one of the most manly women I've seen, carrying a plastic bag down the isle, myself persuming it's purpose was for catching vomit as she walked past, not for rubbish!
The edge of Spain going south to Africa!
(just before my camera decides to die)
We're in Morocco!
Walking outside the plane - instant warmth! The airport was tiny, and actually smaller than one of the train stations, but it had a nice surrounding area. We exchanged 100 euros to dirhams (a currency we'd become very familiar with soon!) 1000 dirhams felt a lot, with the exchange rate being roughly 1 euro to 10 dirham.
There were no real transport links to and from the airport, only taxis (or more like random un-qualified drivers in banged-out old Mercedes, with broken door handles, speedometers and poles holding the two front seats together), constantly stopping by tourists looking for work. At first sight this seemed really dodgy, and after being asked by about 10 different taxi drivers where we were wanting to get to, we finally settled for one. Fez was more familiar with these people pressuring you, as he'd only recently returned back from Syria and Lebanon. Sometimes the taxis don't tell you a price until you get in the car, and even if they do say, it's garanteed to cost Cinquante dirham! Yea, it was funny how throughout the trip, this seemed to be the price for absulutely everything...
Waiting at the airport - to get in a dodgy
'taxi', or to stay waiting?!
There aren't really any rules for driving in Morocco, and only a few times did we see traffic lights. Taxi's race around, overtaking in the smallest of gaps. The quicker they go, the more jobs/money they get, which is different to some of the taxis we're used to that purposely waste time to rack up the money on the counter. As an automatic thing to do I went to put my seatbelt on (for the 1 in 10 taxis that had them), but it didn't go down well, with the driver stopping me saying 'No no' - I guess it's offensive and shows you aren't safe with them...Haha, ridiculous but funny!
It was also quite amusing seeing a motorcyclist driving past taxis
asking to see if the passengers needed anywhere to stay - desperate!
Driving in Casablanca - this was much more developed than Fez.
Cars just cross each other, traffic warden
Cars just cross each other, traffic warden
stuck in the middle not helping!
The taxi took us 20km into the city. As soon as the taxi driver finished (or rather when the taxi driver just randomly stopped the car and got out without saying anything, leaving us like 'wtf?'), we promptly followed. I was suspicious of him driving off with our luggage in the boot (or trunk as the Americans say). So this told us we were in the city, which turns out to be a series of narrow medina streets with small inlets and stores (the general defintion of stores being:- random objects, fake goods and other shit being leant against any floor or wall a vendor could find).
Un buen ejemplo de arriba!
(a good example of above)
Amoung the many fake branded products for sale, Bo Boss
was my favourite! Others off the top of my head were Lacosta and Abidas!
Only occasionally would we see authentic products in shops.
We were really surprised at how undeveloped it was and my first thoughts were: What the hell are we doing here?? - At the time it felt like a stupid decision to fly to the poorest area we could find, but it would soon become worth it. Outside of the medina streets was the 'new Fez', a slightly nicer area that we didn't realise existed until the second or third day, but where we stayed was best to experience the real Morocco.
It was pretty depressing seeing everyone without money. People were generally unhappy and fustrated - bickering with each other all the time. Restaurant/cafe owners would constantly come up to you (seeing tourists with backpacks), persistant in saying they can offer us "good stuffs!", and that you should eat or stay the night at their places. One guy chased us 2-3 times, even across a couple of streets after telling him 'No, we're not interested' - "just go back to your cafe!!" With the other guys being more comfortable ignoring and walking past, I said to him we'd already reserved a hostel for the night, and can't change it - this went down much better and he wished me a good time in Morocco. These people should understand that we're never going to visit your place if they ask us to in desperation! The hassling gets really annoying, and a couple of times we were told to "eff off". Haha
A couple of streets in the medina - Actually the left picture looks quite pleasant.
(Most photos on this blog post are Fez')
(Most photos on this blog post are Fez')
A view over the medina streets.
We ate out at a nice place above the medina streets, which
was sort of descretely found by climbing some steps, ending up in
some random person's living room, then continuing to the top!
Mmm looks great!! - I wanted to try some different foods, so here
was my first Morrocan dinner - Tajine, ground Beef with Eggs!
It smelt (and also looked) like my food had been brushed
along the floor, but it was really nice.
Does anyone want to go to the Dentist?! This arabic translation meant
'teeth-maker', which is probably a more suitable name for the people of
Morocco, who on average don't have more than three teeth. It looked so dodgy...
A nice shoe store, the only downside being you
have to buy the matching shoe from somewhere else!
Breakfast consisted of Crepes (the only real food
sold in the medinas!), and fly-flavoured Orange juice - Yumm!
After struggling to sort out our first night accommodation in Fez, due to the hostel actually being a shithole with neither a reception or enough beds that they garanteed us, we found another close-by in the medina. Waking up at 4am with the sounds of Aaaahhhh Uhhh Ihhh wasn't something we expected, (and No, this wasn't the couple in the room next to us), it was Morrocan's praying!! - Was really strange and 'wtf-ish' waking up to that. These sounds made me go crazy as the trip went on, and we considered buying a music cd which would always remind us of our Morrcan experience.
We got up pretty early the next day and took a taxi to a place overlooking the city. It looked like a series of shanty towns from India/Brazil or something...Upon stopping, the taxi driver kissed the king on the 20 dirham note, to which Fez (who can speak a different dialect of Arabic), translated for us - It was a jesture of saying 'The day has started'. There are about five pictures of the king on every Moroccan wall...another small irritation!
Overlooking Fez - It looks nice from up here!
Travelling to Meknes and Volubilis, where we were welcomed by
amazing countryside and the more peaceful side of Morocco!
It's funny how all the bottom part of tree trunks
are painted white, to act as street lights at night :D
A huge area of ruins.
In the evening we watched the Champions League match between Man Utd vs Bayern Munich, in some dodgy back of a shop with 40+ year old guys smoking weed all night, to which passively I was too - couldn't breath! There were a few descrete hand deals going in the room too. So with the match - no surprise, the Germans won...leaving myself and Leifur a bit pissed!
Casablanca (the economic Capital) a three hour train journey from Fez
Our hotel in Casablanca, most of the cheapest ones being around
100-150 durams. This was a 5-star upgrade from the hostel in Fez! - I got the
only double bed after losing Shotgun and having the shittest bed the night before!
Casaclanca was a lot more western, and it felt good to get away from the medina in Fez.
An old destroyed hotel - I climbed up
some of it before a raging alien-like dog
started chasing me - it definitely wanted
me for dinner. I went into oh-shit panic
mode and moved in any other direction
than the dog. Not knowing what I was
standing on, and losing a sandal in the
meantime, I ended up jumping off
what my friends said to be a 2 meter
wall (they found it halarious).
<--- dog was over there.
Being in Casablanca, and the others keen to find a pub or pub, we searched around and came across three places. The first being a hotel, where we were guided through a few corridors further inside the building, into a dark morrocan style room. It had a strange atmosphere and the camareros (waitors) treated us really well (it seemed almost too well as if they wanted to impress us), with three of four of them constantly surrounding us. They started putting fruits on the table without us asking, and it's a typical thing that they don't give you a choice and give a nasty bill at the end, so I made sure the food was free of charge. After about an hour of this we concluded to 'get the hell of there', and went to find place number 2!
The next place looked nicer, a three-floored building with a bar at the top. After passing a monster-sized girl on the way up, and seeing many fat sluts walking around upstairs, we realised their purpose was to entertain the customers to keep them buying drinks. So from this point we called it a whorehouse!
The last club we went to was much more western, called Jet7. It was the first time we saw the modern life of Moroccans, and also the first time we heard European music, (which was influenced by the three of us turning up!).
The next day was for exploring more of Casablanca. We went for a walking tour recommended by the LonelyPlanet book, but actually many of the places we saw weren't exciting. It was nice to eat in a proper restaurant after being in Fez, and I've now decided Spaghetti Carbonara is my favourite dish!
Myself and Leifur against the
twin towers in the city centre (Casa).
Yea, Morrocans are tall, but what would this be used for?!
left: The beach turned out to be a bit of a fail..., but
there was a much nicer section further up the coast.
right: Myself, Leifur and Fez, at the Namarroch synagogue.
We entertained ourselves watching Morrocan Driving
School, in which one of the passing requirements was to
drive between two widely spread poles. (and the other
being able to hold down the horn for at least 10 seconds!!)
Heading south to Marrakech! (the touristic Capital)
We took the train from Casa to Marrakech, which lasted for about four hours. I expected the idea of a train to be more of a 'jump on anywhere and hold onto an outside pole' sort of thing, but actually it was better than I expected!
Marrakech gave great first impressions - the streets were nicer and newer, people looked less miserable, and it felt comforting seeing tourists in mass, as up to this point we were the only ones really. None of us wanted to stay a night in the medina again, so we decided to stay in a better hotel which was 550 durams for the three of us, roughly 19 euros for each.
Nuestra hotel con una piscina!
The main square in Marrakech - a huge area of stalls and acts.
I thought I'd seen enough monkeys from Gibraltar,
but it seems not... This guy put out his hand, which I naturally
shook - he then shoves a monkey on my head and expects
me to pay for it. I gave a generous 1 dirham (10 cents!!).
Haggling is great, and always works in your favour. You ask how much something is, and if it's too expensive, suggest a joke of a low price, then they meet you halfway and still get a good deal! Pretending to not be interested and walking away also makes them agree to a better price. The other two guys were looking to buy sandals but had no luck, so one vendor took off his own shoes and offered them! Fez heard one vendor say to another, "Give them your shoes!". Really funny.
A 2-day excursion to the desert!
In Marrakech we saw a few shops offering excursions, and this was definitely what I was most looking forward to! We chose the 2-day, 1-night option to Zagora, seeing Draa Valley and Ouazazate along the way costing 550 dhms. After paying the 200 dhm deposit, and hoping the bus would actually turn up at 7am instead of being a scam (it wasn't luckily), we met other tourists in our group - mainly Spanish and Italians, and made our way through the nothingness of Morocco. This was really relaxing after being in the cities. There were many small undeveloped villages completely separate from everywhere else - so tranquillo, no stress!
The Moroccan countryside - Wow.
The long journey was a bit of a killer, and it was particulary comforting seeing the bus driver talking on the phone while driving round cliff-top corners! We stopped at Ouazazate and randomly bumped into two of our Finnish friends from VLC - Tapio and Heiki! - Didn't even know they were in Morocco!
People in front of this structure tried re-directing us
away from the proper entrance, and into some dodgy
back-part, when we could clearly see which was the
way we needed to go...Leave..Us..Alone!
1. Fall off and get trampled on by camel.
2. Get attacked by camel-spider - in our minds these were built up to be monsters.
3. Get stung by scorpion during sleep.
4. Getting stranded, starve to death.
5. Failing to reach desert, bus falling off a cliff.
After 12 hours travelling, we arrived at the
camels, chilling on the ground...Yeaaaa - can't wait!
Myself and Leifur, camel riding in the evening sun.
My camel didn't want this photo taken of him...
Striking a pose...The camel's face wanted to be in this one...
Our group! Camels going in single-file!
After the ride, everyone limped off from the camels to our beber (Nah not really, just most people had sore asses!).
Inside our berber camp - amazing photo.
Berber tents were plotted all over our part of the desert.
Outside our berber, wearing some tubans...the proper way!
Fez also seems to be holding my ass here.
Fez also seems to be holding my ass here.
After dinner (another tajine), we went for a walk in search of scorpions (later to be told there weren't any :( ), but we ended up getting a bit lost about 15 minutes away from our tent...all was okay in the end though!
Our camp fire with Arabic music. We'd hoped DJ Tiesto
would arrive by private camel to play some European
dance music...but this joke never became reality...Haha.
would arrive by private camel to play some European
dance music...but this joke never became reality...Haha.
A bit of dancing for those who wanted (Hah, certainly me)
- was a nice atmosphere.
- was a nice atmosphere.
The dunes behind our berber!
I Expected proper unspoilt orange dunes, but this meant
going to the Western Safari, which needed an extra day of travelling.
The actual 'desert' was within walking distance of mountains and also
a centro commercial with wi-fi (another joke taking
the mick out of how undeveloped the country is!)
The three of us jumping over a dune.
So in the morning we were woken at 6:30am, with a nice pre-'get up and be outside' time of around 30 seconds! After some quick breakfast we were on the camels again, and headed back to the autobus. Next time, we'd definitely take a quad bikes!
It was great to see the desert and get a bit of summer heat - my favourite part of the trip, but it involved a lot of travelling and it became less of a holiday! So the last couple of days we got a nice hotel with a swimming pool to chill.
De vuelta en Espana!
Thanks to RyanAir delaying our flight for 30 minutes, it meant our train from Alicante to Valencia was going to be cut fine...Luckily we arrived a couple of minutes early (perfect timing!), although Leifur missed it due to not buying a train ticket before the trip...so he had to stay another night in Alicante, LOL.
It was great to experience Morocco, but I definitely wouldn't want to go there again. So glad to be back in Spain - everything feels normal again, civilisation, development, happier people, a nice language to the ears. I don't think I could have listened to that Arabic for much longer - really unattractive and goes beneath German on my least favourite languages...(the language sounded like the noises of someone being punched in the stomach).
No hay nada mas que decir..., Hasta luego!
