Making the move

On Monday I was offered and accepted a new job! Yeah! I will be working as an Activities Coordinator at Prairie Lodge in Brooklyn Park, MN. We're also in the process of securing a rental as I type. This is conveniently is located in St. Paul (read this with heavy sarcasm). You may wonder why we would choose this locale so "distant" from our (current) only source of income. Well, it's a cool place in a cool location and (sort of) reminds us of good 'ole Ballard, which we miss! For those familiar with the MSP area, it's 4 blocks north of Grand Ave. Thankfully, I'll be traveling in the opposite direction of most commuters!

We have been blessed to be cared for by friends and family (siblings, parents) who let us crash in their homes. But, we are excited to move and get settled. It's been a long and exciting road but we're both ready to sleep in our own bed!

When I look back through May, June, and July I can't believe the opportunities afforded us. I also sometimes find it hard to believe we took the leap. I am so thankful for Mark and his willingness to go along on crazy adventures with me. He was the one who worried 2 months might be too long...now he's wishing we would've stayed at least 1 more!

Looking forward to more of life's adventures,
Dani

(Finally) Finishing Ireland

FROM DANI:
7/8-16

Our next destination was Glenstal Abbey which is a Benedictine monastery set on a 500 acre estate. We have a close friend who has been there and done silent retreats with the monks. It was a wonderfully peaceful stop situated about 12 miles east of Limerick city but feels much more remote. We enjoyed a quiet afternoon (this was the day Mark drove on the wrong side of the road) and went to vespers in the evening and had a yummy meal in the village of Murroe where Glenstal is located.

We awoke, ate another huge breakfast and then set out for the Cliffs of Moher. Impressive, to say the least! It was a sunny day (yeah) and we enjoyed the endless sea views as well as the big drop down. The highlight for me was seeing Puffin (although they were tiny even with the 2 Euro sightseer binocs). I've wanted to see this bird since the forth grade when it graced the cover of my spelling book. And it was well worth it! We continued on and stayed in a private room at the Allie River Hostel and enjoyed some local music (played by folks near the front door) while we bumped around other cooks in the big kitchen. We slept well to the sound of pattering rain and the little creek that wound by our place.

Next, more driving through beautiful scenery! We drove through The Burren and Connemara and stopped for photos and to take in the countryside. I particularly enjoyed the lakes in the Connemara! Amazingly twisty roads through gorgeous landscape. We found another hostel, dropped our stuff, drove around the lakes and took in an 18-hole putt putt course (Ireland is known for it's golfing!). It was a fun break from travel, even though Mark won!

The next morning we headed for and checked out Galway. Honestly, I'm kinda fuzzy on it as in the afternoon we drove across Ireland (west to east) because our car was due back the next day. Sorry, Galway--better luck next time! :) Oh, I think we ate doner kebab and hung out in a used bookshop here. Yep. Then we drove! We stayed that night just north of Dublin near Slane castle in a farm hostel. We took dorm beds in a 8 or 10 bed room but had the place to ourselves (a funny way to save some cash!). We enjoyed a beautiful sunset and Mark took some amazing pictures of sheep!!

We awoke to drive our car back to the Dublin airport and returned it without problem (thankfully). We took the bus into the city and headed for our reserved accomodations at Trinity College. We stayed in a quad with a kitchen and enjoyed university breakfast every morning. It was fun living "on campus". Dublin probably didn't get a fair shake because we were in going home mode...already thinking about the future. But, we did do a Trinity College tour, saw the Book of Kells, had a drink at Octagon Bar (inside The Clarence Hotel, owned by Bono and The Edge). Mark took a swim at the pool on campus and I took a historical walking tour. We also started reading The Shadow of the Wind together.

Our last day of holiday was spent in London. We caught a RyanAir flight to Gatwick, a quick train to the city, the tube to our hotel (the same we had stayed at 3 years ago), and spent the afternoon walking. Beautiful day - warm and sunny!!!!! Then, we jumped back on the tube and headed for my favorite restaurant (so far) in the world. We had eaten there on a previous trip and it lived up to the memories. If you're in London, take the black line to the Angel stop and walk to Galipoli! Well worth it!!!

And then, we flew home to Chicago. My dad picked us up at the airport and we made our way to Maquoketa, Ia.

We were gone 58 days...but the time flew by. Can't wait to travel again soon!

We're back...

Well, we're back and have mostly returned our internal clocks to the central time zone.  What was my favorite?  I immensely remember Morocco, and if I choose to recall only the best moments, it really was an unforgettable and amazing place to visit (I highly recommend it if you have a sense of adventure... and speaking French wouldn't hurt either).  However, after munching on tapas and speaking Spanish for almost a month and not counting the hospitality we received in France, Ireland offered a delightful experience and a raw beauty thats hard to top, even in the rain.  See for yourself what you think. 

A selection of photos from almost 3000:
http://picasaweb.google.com/h2ogood/SpainMorocooFranceAndIreland

Ireland, Part 3

Sunday, July 13, 2008

We took the standard tour of the Waterford Crystal factory and saw glass making, breaking (they chunk the bad ones), and etching at its finest.
Our single night in the small, quaint town of Kinsale consisted of running about for dinner and then hiding away at our B&B while the rain blasted horizontally.

The next day we took a stop and stroll in Cork. A brief visit to the library proved entertaining. Dani's great grandparents tombstone lists County Cork as birthplaces (and even goes as far to designate their parish, Dysart), so we thought we'd partake in a genealogical treasure hunt to see if we could uncover any tidbits. The library was directly in the city center and as we entered the business like building we were greeted with a smile and assistance. We told the gentlemen our intentions and he sent us off to the second floor, or reference library. At the second floor desk we repeated our mission, and the young lady said that we should go to the third floor genealogy area. We gladly skipped away thinking this was going quite well. The two librarian-esque ladies with gray hair at the third floor genealogy desk had their eyes both peering over their reading spectacles and looked as if they had been waiting for us quite some time. After conveying the details, they looked with raised eyebrows at the year of birth we mentioned, 1790 and 1803. They said that few records were present prior to 1820, and she then asked what the name was. As I uttered the words "John McCarthy" she drew a big grin as this was like asking for a Mr. Smith that lived somewhere in the USofA. She did however give us some ideas on marriage records, as those are documented after 1801. Actually, one can now look these up online, so we concluded our search for the day and figured we could take it up via the world wide web at a later time. If you'd like to do a search for anyone, check out: http://www.irish-roots.ie/mallow.asp
After a walking tour of Cork we continued our road trip to Killarney.

From DANI:
Having called ahead from Cork to reserve a room, we headed straight to our b&b which would be home for a couple of nights. We freshened up and then went into town to explore. Killarney is the hometown of our friend and Seattle neighbor, Pio. He'd given us the name of a place to check out some music so we found the location and, it being rather early, we set out to find dinner.

Once again we ended up at a Kebab shop that was delicious. We also stopped in at Murphy's Ice Cream because they had a sign out front that said you could get a free scoop if you made a balloon animal. So, we went for it! Trying too hard to make mine perfect (by unwinding a twist I'd already made) my balloon popped. So, it was up to Mark.. and it took him a while but he did eventually make a dachshund and we scored a free scoop. The ice cream and atmosphere were both incredible.

It was finally late enough to head to the pub for a little Irish music and drinks. I was quite excited to be in a country where everyone knows what a Shandy is and thus ordered one with Smithwick's. Mark, trying to be ironic (?) ordered a nutty Irishman which drew him a blank stare from the woman behind the bar. Not only that, when a coworker walked by she asked him and he looked at Mark as if he were the Nutty something. Mark ended up with a non-ironic White Russian. The music started up and we joined the middle-aged and up crowd in enjoying the talent. As the night wore on and our drinks were emptied, the place started to fill with people much better dressed and looking than us. We happily made our way home with the tune of "Galway Girl" in our heads.

Killarney is a beautiful area...there's a National Park there and one day when we are able to pack more appropriately for a single destination we hope to spend more time there. We did have the opportunity to drive a bit of the Ring of Kerry and had a pretty day with only bits of rain and gusts of wind (or something like that according to the radio forecast). We looked down on the park from the Ladies' View and were again amazed at the beauty of Ireland. We then made our way back down and into Muckrose where we spent some time walking and avoiding being run down by jaunty cars (renegade handsome cabs driven by friendly Irishmen). We dodged the intermittent rain by hiding in the trees. We also went out to Ross Castle which I found to be beautiful despite the wind carrying my scarf parallel to the ground.

We made the decision to avoid driving the entire Ring of Kerry in order to hang out in Dingle. According to our guidebook, Dingle is more rewarding than the Ring of Kerry (I have a feeling because a heck of a lot fewer people are driving there). We parked the car and headed to the information center to get a map and an idea about accommodations in the area. Since we'd spent the two previous nights in a rather hotel-like b&b, our budget was leading us in the direction of the hostel. Dingle town is situated on a harbor. It's quite a cute little town with many a Kodak-moment sort of places. We strolled the town on a mission - to find a barber to cut Mark's hair. We passed a shop and stepped back to look inside. Two chairs with men at work and four chairs with others waiting...I guess Monday is the day for haircuts in Dingle. We continued to look around but eventually made our way back. Mark got in line and grabbed a magazine and I headed a few doors up the street to a bookshop.

On this trip we have stopped in at quite a few bookstores and I'm always curious about what they display. Best sellers in the US are fairly common here in Ireland but obviously less so in France or Spain. In Spain, I got quite excited because the author of a favorite book of mine (Shadow of the Wind) has a new book out and everyone had huge displays. The unfortunate thing is that not all his books get translated into English...I'll have to wait and see.

I returned to find Mark in the chair and enjoying conversation with the barber. I picked up a Time magazine that was about 6 months old and flipped through it. In a short while Mark stood up and as we left I noticed his hair was quite a bit shorter and I reassured him that it looks great (and must be a heck of a lot more comfortable).

We were lucky enough to get a "private" double at the hostel! Still sharing bathroom and kitchen but we had our own double bed and door that locked. We dropped our things and drove to Slea Head, the most westerly point of mainland Europe. There's a pretty beach and as we made our way to it the sun even came out. We climbed the hill and hopped a fence to walk to the edge and say hello to the US. There's a sign here that says, "next parish, Boston". They are proud to be at the end of the continent! It was pretty windy and Mark had been telling me he felt like running (he'd actually even dreamed about it...I wonder if his legs kicked like Murphy's do?) so I ran down and then up the hill through the field to encourage him. It was fun and we lost our breath...and later in the evening realized Mark also lost his magnetic-clip-to-your-prescription-glasses sunglasses. So after having our dinner and dessert we made a second trip to Slea Head to retrace our steps to find said sunglasses. While we didn't have any luck in locating them we did have the break of seeing how high the tide had come in since we had visited earlier in the afternoon...the beach had disappeared under many FEET of water. It was amazing!

Ireland 2

Wednesday, July 9, 2008
As Mark told you, we arrived in Dublin and headed for our rental. We then sat in the car for, oh, half an hour getting comfortable, checking out maps and having a little lunch before we hit the highway. I think Mark was just psyching himself up for driving on the left.

We made our way out of the city and headed for a scenic drive through the Wicklow Mountains. It was beautiful if a bit scary. The roads continued to grow more narrow as we made our way. We entered a small village and due to our lack of sleep the previous night and the drizzle we decided that we'd secure some accommodation for the night. We decided to divide and conquer. Mark went to the nice looking restaurant with an attached B&B and I went across the street and inquired with the elderly gentleman clipping his hedge. When I asked if he had any rooms free he replied, "Yes, go check with the girl in the house." So, I left him to his work and headed to the house and as I opened the door to ring the bell the "girl" approached me. She was the man's wife and was a long time away from being a girl. She was pleasant and showed me a big room with tea and biscuits (which were welcome after our drizzly start - we had gotten pretty sunburnt bicycling in France). We relaxed before heading to the Glendalough Monastic Site. It is a magnificent 16th century village centered around a monastery begun by Saint Kevin. It's in the middle of the mountains and has a huge tower so pilgrims who would come for prayer and refuge would be able to locate it.

We were both immediately overwhelmed by the green of Ireland, the beauty. We made our way back to our room and hit the hay early. The next morning we had our first Irish breakfast: cereal and yogurt with soda bread, next came fried eggs, cooked tomato halves, bacon AND sausage, toast, and tea. We were more than satisfied and had nice conversation with the couple following our meal. Just before departing the mister smiled and asked us if we needed baths while he pressure washed his horse just outside our room.

We jumped back in the car and headed south to Kilkenny where we chose a cheap sleep in a hostel. We secured our (free) tickets to the Smithwick's brewery "tour" - they don't actually do a tour, you watch a 20 minute video that was made in 1980 on a 19-inch TV screen. Basically it took you through how they make their beer. Then, free samples. We assumed this meant a pint apiece. No. Others imbibed quite a bit while Mark tried the Kilkenny and I had a Smithwick's. We then shared a "small" glass of Guinness...Mark asked for a sample and got 8 ounces! We were asked numerous times if we'd like more but seeing how it was 4pm and we still needed to figure out dinner we didn't think it wise. We headed out (albeit a little tipsy) to the grocery store which was a bit of a super-fillintheblank Mart type place. We both checked out clothing as Ireland was proving to be much colder than we anticipated and packed for. Because we are both frugal, we ended up only buying a small umbrella. We also bought some groceries and prepared a wonderful dinner.

As throughout most of our travels, we have done little in the way of planning. We have a general skeleton and go from there. We are thankful to have a good friend who is originally from Killarney. We asked him for ideas on what to do and his recommendations have been very helpful. Thanks, Pio! We have only made a few reservations for sleeping (Paris, Dublin, London). For us, this has worked out...you just have to be willing to be turned down and stick to your price. This has been a little tougher in Ireland as it is quite pricey. When we landed in Spain we thought that 40 Euros for a place to sleep was really high...in Ireland, at a B&B you can easily spend 40 per person! This does include breakfast but still! This has led us to sprinkle hostels in between our B&B stays (we have found some hostels with private rooms which end up being 40 total).

From MARK:
With my head looking down and slowly turning from side to side, "Yesterday, it happened." I was driving along a smaller-than-normal tiny country road and we were looking for our turn around each bend in the road. It all happened rather quickly, but I drove past our left fork while reading the small sign and realizing I'd need to make a U-turn ASAP. The roads are so narrow you simply can't turn around and without shoulders, the thick tall-as-trees brush create a virtual wall that flies by at less than an inch from your passenger mirror (and that's at the wide points). The speed-limit on these ludicrous roads is posted at 100 kph, which some people actually reach (despite one sign we saw indicating 42 recent deaths).

The next ninety-degree right-bend in the road revealed several driveways that looked promising. I picked the second entry on the left and pulled in the length of the car. I looked both ways for traffic, tossed the car in reverse, and easily backed out into my lane. I glanced in the rearview mirror and noted that the road behind us was clear. We entered the previous tight curve (also recalling to myself that I needed to take the next right) with a comfortable yet moderate speed when I noticed a large, white, road construction truck (think large delivery truck size) that seemed to be taking his turn really wide and FAST... so much so that he was invading my entire lane! WHAT was he thinking and why was he in my path? Perhaps there was a pedestrian just out of sight or maybe some sheep meandered on the road? I quickly slowed to a stop as he did the same and at twenty paces apart our bumpers faced each other like a an old western movie show-down. My heart raced and I then wondered when he'd realize his mistake and return to the inside lane when Dani blurted out "You're in the wrong lane!" I was still in mild disbelief but knew she was right and thus chose to take her word and rev the car into the left lane. My mind uttered some unmentionable words as we passed the now-stopped construction truck with white-knuckles and rapid breathing. By the time we could see his back in our rearview mirror he actually gave us a "honk" for good measure perhaps.

Both realizing we were alive, Dani laughed hysterically at his delayed beep, my rampant driving, and to relieve a good bit of built up stress. I too had a hardy chuckle mixed with after-shock and proceeded to "laugh it off" since I was now driving down the correct road (on the correct side) which had even larger hedge rows creating a tunnel like path. With tears of glee now in my eyes, I at some point apparently quit watching the road and allowed the car to mindlessly drift into the left hedge, at which point Dani levitated out of the passenger seat to the middle of the car in order to avoid being impaled by branches and the such. Realizing the scraping-on-the-side-of-the-car sound wasn't normal, I compensated by arching the steering wheel right, returning the car to the middle of the road. Luckily, no oncoming traffic was present and we continued the de-stressing laughter while maintaining a safer driving path. Dani drove to dinner that evening.

The view from the car's dashboard...

...and us happily looking at the view in the post below.

Ireland, 1

Monday, July 7, 2008
From MARK

Ireland is wonderful. If you take the Hawaiian islands, bring them together as one, enlarge the island a bit, add a Seattle-like climate, imagine larger green fields (with sheep), and give the people cheery accents and paler skin you'd have Ireland. Oh, don't forget to drive on the LEFT too! Yes, we are fans of Ireland and all that it has to offer.

Our flight from Paris to Dublin on Wednesday, July 2 was smooth and forgettable. After staying up most of the night before watching the Eiffel tower lights (change from blue to "rapid blinky" around 1am) and getting up at 4.30 to catch our flight, we slept quite well on the plane.

I opened the right side door of our small, black Citreon rental car, sat in the cushy seat, and mindlessly went to buckle up by reaching my right hand over my left shoulder only to grab air. Shifting with the left hand isn't that hard, and really, as long as you don't think about which side your supposed to be driving on it's really quite easy. Except for the one time I gunned it through a questionable who-had-the-right-of-way light (actually, the oncoming driver was just SITTING there) I got a little anxious on the next street and made the turn into the right lane along with some minor oncoming traffic, which was easily remedied with a fast twitch of the steering wheel.

We drove our four door around Dublin on the M-50 with ease and headed towards the Wicklow Mountains. The drive has been one of the most scenic. The lush green pastures stretch over large rolling hills and sheep are sprinkled along the grassy fields like croutons on a salad. Some of the sheep have blue and/or red spray paint markings on their backs.

Included here is a photo from the Dingle Peninsula. More to come on Ireland. Cheers!

We're in Ireland!

Today we're headed to the Dingle Peninsula... and the weather has been "patches of sun", nevertheless we've been loving Ireland. Stay tuned for an update.

Caranten, France

If the riad is to Morocco, then Noelle and Michael are to Caranten, France. We consider ourselves extremely fortunate to be guests in a French home, where everyone is treated as family. A friend from Seattle (thanks again Amy!) studied abroad and still keeps in close contact with her host family, so she made the connection for us via e-mail and we enjoyed a three night stay in a little town called Caranten, France (about a three hour train ride from Paris).

We climbed aboard our sleek train with our packs in the St. Lazier station at 11.45am on Saturday, June 28, and within minutes bolted down the track with a smooth 75mph speediness across the rolling hills of the French country side. Cows and horses whizzed by as did the fields of wheat and corn each separated by mature tree lines or hedge rows. Small light brown cobble stone houses dotted the landscape and we sank into our plush, business-class like seats somewhat glad to be leaving the busy, hot city.

Writing now, it felt a little like coming home. I mention this, as I think Dani and I were both in need of some time to recharge and as current nomads, mildly longing for a place to call home. Noelle and Michael both met us at the train station with a warm welcome, including a kiss on both cheeks from Noelle and a hardy handshake from Michael. Petite Noelle has a warm tone, neck length smooth dark hair, and a smile that radiates. Michael is tall with a slightly athletic build, speaks less English than Noelle, and has a passion for flowers made obvious by the many colors in their backyard. We tossed our luggage in the back of the four door VW sedan and made the five minute drive to their French style home. Our room on the second floor was decorated with various sailing posters with rusty-orange colored walls and hard wood floors that included an occasional splinter as proof from my big toe.

Saturday evening they drove us to Mont St. Michelle, a monastery "island" that is amazing to see even from 20 miles away! We toured the place, had a crepe dinner, and watched the sun set (at around 10.45pm). Noelle happily told us we could sleep on the drive back, and after thanking her, I found my head soon toppling over much like an unstable bag of sand.

Sunday we were invited to a picnic with one of Amy's old teachers (which was ironically planned even before we had spoken). We ate our fresh croissants with butter and jam, and then drove north about an hour to meet the rest of the gang. The two story, picturesque house looked like a movie set. It had a cream yellow exterior with white trim, sparkling clean windows, and a patio where we had coffee and tea. In all, there were ten of us, Dani and myself by far being the youngest couple in attendance, and of course French was the common language (which neither of us speak). We abruptly got up (we guess the five minute warning came in French) and gathered for our "walk". As mentioned earlier, the fields are divided by tree lines, but hidden within these rows you'll find an ingenious trail system that one can walk about the country side. Much to our surprise but nevertheless quite happily, we proceeded to take a three hour walk which we believe was to get our digestive systems ready for the meal to follow.

First, we had two celebratory toasts of champagne coupled with crackers and chips on the patio. We then moved to the formal dining room and were given our seat assignments by the wonderful hostess. The dark red walls, light jazz music in the background, stark white linens, and china set an impressive tone. Two salads were passed, one consisting of a cream sauce over: diced avocados, melons, and shrimp. The other was a green bean, mozzarella, tomato, and pine nut mix. More red wine ensued with French conversation that we gladly listened to. Honestly, I was content with the amount of food I had at this point and could of gone home happy. However... After some conversation, we had our second course: leg of lamb and little fried bread balls which I just utterly under described, as they were quite amazing. More wine with an increase in accompanied chuckles. The cheese course arrived and Dani was told that she was true French because when asked if we liked cheese, she responded with rosy cheeks, "Who doesn't like cheese?" More French conversation coupled with bits of polite English clues. Just before the last course came a dessert wine, which was a rare, dusty, antique looking bottle that drew many "ooohs and ahhhs". We followed suite when shown and I knew that turning down such a glass was not an option, although my body considered it. At one point I asked Dani not to say anything in fear of laughing so much I might shoot food from my mouth across the table. I think the almond crusted apricot tart was delicious, as I somehow had two pieces. By 5pm I felt as if I'd never need to eat again in my life. This, was certainly an unforgettable "picnic"!

Caranten is located near the Normandy beaches so we took the chance to explore some of the WW-II memorials and museums. At several points my eyes welled up, from gratitude, sorrow, joy, and so much more. The numerous US flags waving high in the air combined with the beautiful golf-course-on-the-water like area made you feel proud to be an American and also at peace to realize the world can come together.

We spent out last day in Bayeaux and found a place that rented tandem bikes. We rode the country side under clear blue skies, warm sun rays, and a breeze the felt like frosty air conditioning set on high. I can think of no better way to take in the corn and wheat fields mixed with bright red poppies on the edge and the small, twisting, country/farm roads. We turned in the bike with new farmer tans and took a short train ride back to Noelle and Michael's where we enjoyed a home cooked roast pork and vegetable dinner. Their hospitality and openness throughout our stay with them made our trip to France an unforgettable one!

Paris

Saturday, June 28, 2008
From MARK:

We landed at the Charles de Gaulle, Paris airport on Tuesday, June 24 at 5:20pm with partly cloudy skies and a pleasant 70F temperature. We had pre-booked a hotel room we found on the internet, cleverly named Hotel de Paris so our only mission for the evening was to make it to our hotel for the night. The Metro system in Paris is phenomenal to say the least!

We took the light blue coded "B Line" RER train from the airport and transferred at Gare du Nord to the orange, number five metro system. It's easy to remember which line you need (from the number or color), but the two way system requires that you know the end stops to identify your direction. You must do this quickly and efficiently in the midst of hundreds of people bustling in the underground tunnels trying to get to their next connection (*stopping to stare in bewilderment at this moment may result in being shoved to the ground, trampled to a pulp, and if your lucky, spit on). Lets see, we needed to go in the direction of "Bobigny," NOT "Place d'Italie," and our stop was "Porte de Pantin". My mind quickly comes up with "Bob" getting off a boat at in my home town of "Port Lavaca." With well over 200 stops we came up with a variety of other mental links for names including "Odeon" and "Rivoli". We used the Metro extensively to jet our selves across the city and even performed a football defensive drill in order to squish ourselves onto an already smooshed full car. I also realized after a day of sightseeing that we too, added to the bountiful B.O. smell that seems to take over the train car once you step on.

I can't help but remembering a commercial (years ago) with a little old lady who claimed to have waited all her life to have her photo taken in front of the Eiffel Tower. She goes on to share the photo (this was back in the days of having film developed, so you watch the scene transition from a negative to a photo) after returning from her dream trip only to display the Eiffel Tower with half a wad of little-old-lady gray hair in the lower corner. It made me laugh just looking at the tower in Paris, and thus you see the photo above.

Speaking of photo taking, we literally battled our way through the Louvre against various groups of people taking photos with, next to, as close to, around, behind, and otherwise beside various artifacts and items. At one point we watched as two little women climbed up ON the "Winged Victory" statue dating back from 190 B.C. as they ignored security and smiled at partners urging them to click away while gaurds pulled them down. Either way, our entry fee was well worth what we saw on the inside. We managed to catch a glimpse of DaVinci's Mona Lisa (apparently along with another 6 million people per year), who seemed to be doing quite well behind her thick plate glass, and also saw works by Michelangelo and the lady statue Venus de Milo.

We spent time at a few cafes and relished our few meals out, as they generally seemed to cost three arms and a leg. On Thursday we made it to the Versailles palace, created by King Louis XIV (located about an hour train ride outside of Paris). While walking through the palace, gardens, and various retreats built on the Chateau I tried to think of how best to describe the massive area. First, the palace alone is gi-normous! However, when you add the gardens and buildings meant as get-aways, it becomes hard to imagine, let alone write about. I first thought of the mall in D.C., but that's way too small. Theres a canal/lake that's one mile long, which was created to replicate the feel of Venice. As you walk the gardens you stumble on what seem to
be little villages, but turn out to actually be houses used by the king. We completed a triangular walk which took us over an hour and that barely covered one quarter.

The Most Expensive Movie Ever

El Incidente/Phenomenones/The Happening

We have been on the road for some time now and sometimes you just needa sense of "normal". For us, this has been seeing a movie. In Barcelona we saw Indy, in Casablanca, Casablanca, in Portugal we watched some not very good JohnTravlota movie on tv, and in Paris we went to see The Happening.

Paris, in general, is very expensive. Everything has been nearly twice the price as in other places we've been. So, we made our way to the theater with the english version of the movie that we have seen posters for in many languages. We were very excited because we have liked previous movies by the writer/director. This movie, however, cost us 20 Euros to enter and then with snacks...we were hoping for something great. Instead we sat in our cushy seats wondering when the action would start. If you haven't seen this movie please, at least, wait for rental! Oh, if you did see it, let us know where your version ended. We're curious if several versions were made or if we were just lucky.

Surprisingly, we still hope to see Wanted and Batman, depending on their European release dates. We head to Ireland in a couple of days so at least we won't have to search out theaters with the version originale.

Traveling Tip 1

We found ourselves with some extra time one hot evening (in a park in Spain), and I couldn't help but notice the wonderfully fresh looking, just-out-of-reach oranges in the trees above our heads. I love oranges, and nothing was better than the thought of having a mouth-watering, complimentary all natural snack. Dani didn't think it was a great idea and said so by sitting on a park bench just far enough away to claim she didn't know who I was. I first tried jumping straight up from the ground, but eventually came to a combo bench-seat-jump in order to hurl myself high enough into the tree to grab at one of the oranges. It was at some point in mid-air that I realized Dani might have been right, and by then my persistent hand wouldn't let go of the orange which finally gave way after releasing a maddening amount of tree sap all over my shirt and back. Then looming similar to a Ghostbusters "sliming", I held my glorious prize up high into the air with a feeling of victory, only briefly noticing Dani's new look of disgust. After an easy de-peeling, I hesitated at my first bite into the sumptuous fresh orange as I was anxious to reap the benefits of my hard labor (and sap covering). The first (and only) taste was something like putrid orange peel and I couldn't even fake an expression of delight as I spit the remains out, coughing and seeing Dani's grimace turn to a chuckle. She knew that if could of mustered a mild grin after the bite I would of likely said that it had a unique taste and would of suggested a sample. We both had a good laugh, and needless to say, don't bother with the wild oranges!

Porto, Portugal

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

From MARK:
We caught a four hour bus ride from Santiago, Spain to Porto, Portugal on Saturday, June 21. Other than the duely noted one hour time difference, the ride was uneventful (something we've come to appreciate). Porto has been quite unique, and I might describe it as 75% Spain-feel with a 25% complete feel of it's own. We've used the days for some much needed rest, although we did attempt to play at a local mini golf green, but apparently the semi-pro's had the course this past weekend (these guys had their own clubs and sweepers!). Oh well, maybe next time?

We departed the bus in Porto, Portugal to a wonderfully cool yet sunny town (the Atlantic breeze and temperatures reminded me of Hawaii if you closed your eyes) and walked a good distance to the Tourist Info (TI). People were friendly and while English is used, I was completely incorrect in thinking my Spanish (which all came back to me the moment we left Spain) would be useful in this Portuguese speaking country. While the two languages have some similarities, they're about as close as Spanish and French. Needless to say my Portuguese accented Spanish didn't get me far. We picked up our flagship sayings of "cheers" and "thank you" and have been doing quite well. The abundant cobblestone streets and square, marble, hand laid sidewalks give a European feel, and when walking through the central neighborhoods you can sense a tinge more distress than that of Spain. You'll see a handful of boarded windows and note a few buildings that might need some extra paint. We passed a plethora of shops each offering walls filled with a variety of sunglasses.

The TI told us we were lucky to be in town on Monday, as it was the annual celebratory day of St. John the Baptist, complete with free concerts, midnight fireworks, and local customs.

The Euro 2008 soccer championships are also under way (think of the Super Bowl times 100). EVERYONE has been watching the playoff games with acute intensity (men, women, and children), and we'll have to agree, they're quite amazing and FUN to see! Due to Porto's festivities already under way, they've been showing the games on a HUGE screen TV in the central square, so we indulged the other night in watching Spain beat Italy in "sudden death" after double over time. The final game occurs next Saturday (when we'll be in France) between
the winners of Spain vs. Russia and Turkey vs. Germany. I'm rooting for Spain since it has been our home for a majority of the trip thus far.

Last night we had a late dinner of ribs, fries, kababs, Fru-Tea, and chocolate mousse, then went to hang out in the central concert area. The annual tradition that accompanies this day is quite unique. They sell large plastic hammers and hand out free, smaller ones which have accordion-like heads that squeak when rapidly compressed. The tradition encourages tapping each other on the head with these hammers to ensure good luck. So, we proceeded to watch the free concert while being pelted with plastic hammers over the head with a squeak to go with each hit (and some even obliged us by bowing for a return good-luck bop which we heartily delivered). The much loved Portuguese band "Anjos" played local favorites with girls screaming near stage (while the singers simultaneously shook their hips, did squats, and clapped overhead) as kids ran by for quick hammer taps as if trying to set a new record. Everyone was all smiles and laughing, including little old ladies and kids hoisted on shoulders to better reach with their plastic hammers.

Vendors sold freshly made cotton candy, beer, and popcorn; the smells combined with a wildly random scene made you want to stay, however the mist and spittle of the evening eventually drove us back to our room. We watched the fireworks show on TV accompanied with Ghostbusters, Mission Impossible, and James Bond music and then drifted off to sleep in our small family run hotel room.
*We did try the port wine, which was quite good but a little too sweet for our tastes.

The end of the road...

Shells mark the entire route of the Camino and this is the last one located in front of the cathedral.

My Camino: AKA Watch Where You Step...and Pee

From DANI:

The Camino de Santiago is one of the main reasons we chose to travel to Spain. Mark found out about it from a book and got excited. I liked the idea of doing some hiking in another country but was a little scared by the idea of 100 km (about 62 miles) since I really haven't been doing much in terms of training other than walking around cities.

We lucked into amazing bus connections to land us at our desired starting point, Sarria (about 113 km from Santiago). Our first day we busted a move to try and put some miles behind us. We have done roughly 12 km on day 1, 21 km on day 2, a whopping 27 km on day 3, 15 km on day 4, and 20 km on day 5. We plan to do 13 tomorrow and the last 5 into Santiago on Thursday. Most of my time spent walking has been doing math to figure how much farther, how far we've gone, how long until we're done, converting km into miles. Math keeps the mind busy!!

We have walked past farms, small villages, and little towns. It has been mostly rolling hills, lots of green (grass, trees, plants, fields) and blue (the sky). Those we pass (farmers, etc) are quick to greet and wish us "Buen Camino!" I really like the people of Galicia. I have also truly enjoyed our walking and discussions. And I've been amazed at what my body can do when my mind doesn't overthink. Our paths tend to be the same that the farmers use to move their livestock to pasture so you have to watch your step at all times, especially when it's rainy because the cow pies get very slippery!

ALERT: This may be too much information, feel free to skip to the next paragraph. You must also watch where you decide to pee...we made a snack stop the other day and I found a good spot but people kept rounding the bend just when I thought about making my move. I could wait no longer and went for it and tried to be quick only to notice a burning sensation on my rear almost immediately after zipping up my pants. I unwittingly had peed right in a patch of burning nettles. Throughout the day I itched but didn't scratch and thankfully all is better. I have been loathe to stop on the side of the road and have been holding it until I find a cafe or something to sneak into.

We stop in these dormlike places and live in community with all the other pilgrims from all over the world. We met a man who began his walk in France two months ago, a girl from the states who began at the France/Spain border and who I traded books with, and we've seen many like us doing the last bit. Overall, I'm glad we are walking the Camino but I'm also ready to get back to traditional sightseeing!

The Camino, not the car

The entire Camino in one post:

Saturday, June 14, 2008
We pulled into Astorga (in style) and found a place for hikers that had everything we needed for only eight euros! Astorga was simply a stopover for us, as the next day we awoke, and attempted to figure out how to get to Sarria--our intended starting point. We found a bus to Lugo, then gambled that we'd find a shuttle bus from there, and what a deal, one left in fifteen minutes. We were in Sarria and on the trail/camino by 3:15pm.

I'm going to go ahead and say it, but we Americans must be crazy to hike or just plain hard-headed to pack all that we do (food, water, tent, etc.) on the trails throughout the US. I say this because I do it all the time! I love the beauty of the national parks, but Europe sure makes it easy to love the outdoors. As far the Camino de Santiago (a well traveled and popular route), there's cold water spickets that seem to appear when you need them, and little towns/villages often enough that offer dorm like places to stay, food, hot showers, laundry facilities, and even lines to hang your clothes on. You can literally hike with just the clothes on your back, a water bottle, and a few not-necessary-snacks just as the original travelers did many years ago. We even ran across a few soda-pop machines right on the trail! The first pilgrims to complete the journey were setting out to witness the tomb of St. James discovered in Santiago (around 820), and ever since, they've ensured that the journey is one others can make with safety and comfort (they even had guards to fight off the banditos). Also, the FIRST ever "guidebook" was written describing the Camino: how to make the journey, find water, food, expected cell phone coverage, etc., all around 1300.

We checked into our first place on June 13 for a whopping 6 euros and then took a hot shower. We were provided with liners for the bunk bed mattress/pillow, and the room slept about 20. Everything was clean as a whistle and everyone was either quite friendly or snoozing. Many are walking the entire route (2-3 months of travel) which stretches from France, while we've opted for the much shorter 120 km version.
After our shower, we walked a mere 30 yards to the café and had a three course dinner, complete with fresh bread, Nestea, spinach-bean soup, cheese eggs, patatas (not the Pope this time), and ice cream. We didn't even have to do the dishes. I had to chuckle that night as I drifted off to sleep with a variety of wheezes, slow exhales, and other folks shifting and rolling as they too drifted off to sleep.

The next morning I was (lets just say rather rudely) jolted awake to someone ripping a reverberating double fart at about 6am! That's all I'll say about that other than I suppose there are some perks to hiking in the US with your own tent. We walked for about an hour, then had Dani's favorite for breakfast, tortillas espana (eggs and potatoes) at another little cafe. The trail is well maintained, strategically marked with yellow arrows placed precisely when you start looking for one, and it has the most wonderful views of the wide open country side. If they had all these perks in the US, I'd definitely be out more, and I think, more importantly, others would too (well, less the wake up alarm)! I say this because we've seen travelers of all ages, especially a number of folks over 60.

The first two days have been great. Even though we have our all-of-Europe travel bags on our backs, they don't seem too heavy. The first day was sunny with a cool, refreshing breeze. Today we got an early start around 7:30am with a light fog and the temperature hovering around 65F. It was brilliant, and the sun didn't completely break out until almost noon. We stopped for lunch and ate the remaining food we'd been packing and continued on. In the shade it's almost too cool, but without it, the sun can bear down with serious intensity. It's overall exhilarating, similar in the french fry with your frosty sort of way.

Trees were sparse today and the sun did not hold back, so we happily strolled into a small area (population fourteen, that's counting the car of three that arrived shortly after we did) and secured a bunk. The shower was so intense I had to occasionally stand to the side to prevent any loss of skin. We've met two Americans, but ran mostly into French folks, so our conversations have been limited. Only 77 km left to go, although rain is in the forecast and we've only packed two $3 panchos. We'll see how it goes on the road (camino) to Santiago.

Sunday, June 15, 2008
Well, the second day proved to be a good one. We completed 27 kilometers, just under 17 miles and our dogs are barking! For lunch, we had two wonderful sandwiches of cheese and chorizo along with a glass of warm milk, as the weather today was cloudy and a bit cold. It never really rained, but being from Seattle, I'd describe the day as containing mostly "spittle". It was a bit of a nuisance, as every time I took off the $3 pancho (which actually did its job) the spittle seemed to pick back up. I'd put the pancho back on, warm up, take it back off, and then repeat the process. Hey, at least it was cool for our long day. We arrived in Melide late in the afternoon and were ready to rest our feet. We wandered the town a bit longer than we cared to looking for the officially sponsored hotel (aka: the cheap dorm) only to find four old men sitting together on a single park bench sharing two umbrellas and talking about the weather and politics (I have to presume the last part). It was a grand prize photo in the making, and I coerced Dani into asking them if we could pull the camera out. They pleasantly obliged and we look forward to sharing the photo one day, as it's currently on the big SLR camera.

We were finally able to make our bunk beds and call it a day around 5pm. The shower at this place proved to have a mind of it's own. It sporadically alternated between liquid-nitrogen cold and lava-hot at the most unpredictable times making the overall experience quite difficult to enjoy. It made you develop this quasi shower-dance that you never thought you'd be doing after a full day of hiking. Other stalls seemed to share a similar problem as various yelps of terror could be heard throughout the bathroom in a variety of languages. I suppose it did keep water consumption to a minimum? We ended the day with grilled lamb-chops, fries, a mixed salad, and a mug of red wine filled to the brim. I'm off to bed!

Monday, June 16, 2008
Dear whoever-is-reading-this-blog-and-adjusting-the-weather-accordingly,
I do appreciate the fact that you let it downpour today since I did complain (slightly) about the "spittle" yesterday. I was really looking forward to getting through the rain today. However, I did not find it funny when it once again began to spittle for the remainder of the entire day!

Well, our $3 panchos are starting to look like they've had about $6 worth of wear. The super thin clear "garbage bags with hoods" also rattle a lot when you have them on and thus prevent you from hearing anything and the hood forces you to look down and can darn-near cause one to miss their turn entirely (not that we'd know anything about this).

Today was "OK." Both Dani and I put on some fresh, clean clothes including pants since the day was a smidgen cooler with the rain and all. We were trudging along, minding our own business when we noticed a tractor quickly approaching us from about 100 yards away. The dirt road we were on was no wider than a tractor, so we both had furrowed brows and quizzical looks. As it approached we figured we'd move to the side (in the brush) and let it go right along with it's fertilizer tank trailer in tow.

Dear Mr. Tractor Driver,
We appreciate the fine farms that you keep, they really are beautiful; however, the large tread on your tires appear to carry a large amount of mud, dirt, and water on them which seemingly fly about when you travel at the speeds you do. Please keep this in mind when your passing hikers.

*Unfortunately the $3 panchos were attached to our bags at this point.

Dani lost her toothbrush and I'm getting sleepy and you don't want to hear any more about Dani's toothbrush so goodnight.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Today was much better than yesterday. It's amazing how much happier everyone is when they don't look like a mad cat coming out of a bath.

The first great encounter of the day happened this morning. We were hiking along at a lively pace and noticed a group of 12-15 people just in sight that were huddled up looking over maps. They were taking up the entire trail, so we decreased our pace so they too had some time to contemplate how they would move over. It just happened that the group parted perfectly in half and the first two people raised their trekking poles in the air like swords while everyone else followed suite. As we ran through the make-shift tunnel they all shouted "Buen Camino!" as we told them the same. I never did wake up so I'm pretty sure it really happened. Come on, you can't make this stuff up.

The second "event" has me slightly concerned (and I think for good reason). This morning we were sitting in our hotel's café having coffee and noticed two lady hikers that had stopped in to do some laundry (yes, first thing in the morning, which does make one wonder). The one with braids and in her late thirties was sitting at the bar with her back to us and Dani noticed some red whelps on the back of her calf... so I took a glance. My first thought was that she had slid her foot off a petal of a bike and her calf caught the piercing points of the front cog, as there were several red marks just above the line of her mid calf black socks. Dani didn't agree with my initial diagnosis and pointed out (the apparently obvious?) the red whelps were not at consistent distances. I consented and that was the end of our medical discussion for the morning.

Around 11:30 we passed a lady with long gray hair, a large pack, and a casual pace. We only exchanged "Buen Camino's", but shortly thereafter started talking more when we came to a fork in the trail with no indication on which way to progress.
When that was behind us, we found out Jane was actually walking slowly so her sister-in-law and niece would have time to catch up. They had apparently stopped in a town to do laundry and get medication for a "complication". Dani's investigative instincts took over and quickly identified them from our morning hotel café encounter. Dani also brought up the red marks we noticed on her leg and hoped that everything was OK. All was fine except for the excessive need to itch as they had been attacked on their legs, arms, and face by a swarm of bedbugs! I stared in disbelief at the never-crossed-my-mind-yet thought of bedbugs in the hotel beds and quickly tried to recollect the condition of our mattresses and making a self assessment of my overall skin condition without looking too obvious.
Jane went on to explain that bedbugs are indeed a problem in the hotels and they also start getting progressively worse in the summer. I was immediately caught off-guard and quite honestly, appalled--and would like to add, there are definitely perks to hiking with your own tent and bed-roll! This evening I cautiously made my bed, put an extra blanket down for a precautionary layer (even if it's just mentally reassuring), and I'm not so sure I'll sleep as sound tonight. "Sleep tight and don't let the bed-bugs bite" has now taken on new meaning. I've contemplated buying a can of Raid to try and eradicate any pests, but at this point I can only hope that my Garfield bed sheet will keep me safe. Sleep tight?

Vaso? I thought "vaso" meant glass, which is the amount of wine I attempted to order tonight with dinner. Apparently it means an entire bottle, as that's what arrived at our table! Oh well, it was certainly good wine, and while I did try to finish if off, I had to stop when my toes started going numb (which was not a bad thing since my blister finally quit hurting). It seems that is how the wine comes, as we were only charged for one serving. I stumbled back to the hotel (with the help of Dani) and ALMOST forgot about the bedbugs. Buen Camino!

Wednesday, June 18, 2008
800?
Today was fantastic! Our prompt bedtime had ensured an early morning and we were up and going right at 7am (we guess the wine must have been the good kind?). I looked over my legs, arms, body, and to my relief, did not find any bedbug bites. I'm not even sure what I'm looking for, but I have to check either way.

The morning was a chipper 45F which kept us moving fast in order to keep the blood going, although the sun was out and starting the preheating process around 9am. My hip was starting to hurt more from the waistbelt of the backpack, but I considered myself fortunate today for finding an unbruised area that I could clinch the pack to and redistribute the pain.

We were looking forward to our 'cheap sleep hotel' already (bedbugs aside). On a side note, the official dorms designated by the Camino to stay at are called Albergue's (although I tend to shout to Dani, "Look, an Albuquerque!" Yes, the city in New Mexico is much easier to remember and pronounce even if it has no connection).
Our guidebook tells us how many beds are located at each Albergue, so we generally have an idea of how big they are. The one we planned to stay at tonight listed a whopping 800 beds! You'd think you'd might be looking for a 15 story high-rise from a mile away. Our place was elusively further than we had mentally anticipated, but once we arrived, it was literally a campus of dorms complete with a mini-shop area filled with a cafeteria, laundry, and an unfortunately closed massage business. Were only a mere 5km from Santiago and the end of the Camino. Most everyone is in high spirits as they know tomorrow will be easy compared to the previously longer journey. We too are ready for the end.

Thursday, June 19, 2008
THE END!!!
Our final day on the Camino was a short day with a great ending.
We've found that getting up later than everyone else has it's perks. For one, there's nobody around to get in the way and it's rather peaceful. We rolled into the cafeteria around 8 and after some extra toast with extra butter we strolled off to Santiago, which was less than 5km away. It was about an hour before we were in town, so we took a final photo and got in line to receive our credentials (the official certificate issued to you by the Camino de Santiago). We secured two more beds and found a doner kabab restaurant that was fantastic! The end. Oh, we went to celebrate by getting a massage. I found the Camino to be a wonderful experience and would highly recommend it, especially via bicycle!

Thank you!

Wow, thank you everyone for the feedback and words of encouragement. We're delighted even if just one reader has a chuckle for the day.

Well, here's your chance to give a little something back. Post a comment on what you think either (or both) of the models in the above picture is saying and the winner will receive a special souvenir. Heck, maybe it doesn't even need a thought bubble?

In case you'd like to know, this was a store front in Astorga, Spain.

Granada to Astorga, Spain

Saturday, June 14, 2008
From MARK:
I've read that Granada is the one city in Spain that you can't miss and I couldn't agree more. It was quaint, friendly, and had ample walking space for a city of such size. Huge fountains bulk-headed the pedestrian plazas which were elegantly lit at night. It also boasted an eclectic mix of food, including another great doner kabab joint and several horchataritas (sweetened cinnamon rice milk, a personal favorite). The Alhambra is poised high on a cliff and brings additional Moorish architecture to the city, thus bringing back our memories of the Moroccan/Arabic window structure (the square window with the elliptical cutout resting on top).

The visit to the Alhambra was also amazing. So popular, we had to buy tickets on-line five days in advance, and it was worth the wait. The place is reaping with historical importance, stories, and the palace, gardens, rooms, and fountains spared no expenses. I won't elaborate and let you see for yourself via Google.

Eager to start the Camino de Santiago hiking/pilgrimage trail, we set off from Granada attempting to get to Sarria for the start of our trip that would put us on foot for a while. We caught a bus from Granada to Madrid, then from Madrid to Astorga. For this second leg the most conveniently timed bus was a few dollars more, which we were inclined to pay simply for the better time. However, we soon realized that we we had purchased "business" class tickets, and we were quite excited since we had (only one week previously) rode the "chicken" bus in Morocco. After the shiny, Mercedes (gray line sized) bus pulled up, the driver took our bags and gave us complimentary headphones. We walked on and it was configured with two seats on the left, an isle, and just one seat on the right. The fresh smell of leather and new-car scent took over from there. The full grain black and gray leather seats looked like they belonged in a Lexus and the trim was complete with wood paneling and extra large air vents for each passenger to direct as they like. Free snacks, comfy chairs, and the movie (even if it was called "Ping" and was about a small wonder dog) made this bus a smooth ride. I actually tried watching the movie, but Ping proved to be just too clever after freeing his buddies from the dog catcher after biting him in the groin. Go Ping go!

Sevilla Part 2

From DANI:
If you ever need a great Spanish town to hang out in Sevilla is a pretty good choice. We arrived after our respite in Tarifa excited to see the city famous for flamenco and bullfighting. We found a place to stay and walked around a bit. Mark and I both have a decent sense of direction...he's got good instincts and I remember the map (both in my head and pack). We found getting around so splendidly nice and the hustlers actually left you alone after only one "no, gracias".
Unbelievable!

While we were in town on the day of a bullfight (Mark has previously attended one and I wasn't positive I could take it) part of me wanted to go more to experience the crowd and the local diversions...we chose to see a flamenco show instead. We heard amazing guitar playing, beautiful singing, and saw mind-blowing dancing! Truly a fun, if slightly touristy, thing to do!

We were able to see Sevilla's cathedral (immense) which was built on top of a torn down mosque after the Reconquista. The bell tower remains and we climbed to the top for a great view of the city. Oh, we also ran into Christopher Columbus here...his remains are inside a "casket" statue that is being carried by 4 pallbearers (each representing a different region of Spain).

We wandered the Alcazar, a 10th century palace that still functions as a royal residence. It's a "Christian" palace built in the Moorish style. It was quite beautiful with rounded, keyhole-like doorways, latticed windows, tile patterns, and a huge garden. That was the best part as we walked and enjoyed the beauty for quite some time.

Luckily, my high school Spanish is coming back because Mark is starting to lose his! Has he told you about trying to order a dad (or in some cases the Pope) for dinner? We are a good team...he speaks and I listen to the responses. I also read OK and can get a gist of what we're trying to figure out...so between the two of us we are one Spanish communicating bandito!

Hello from the Camino de Santiago

Just a quick/short note to say that all is well even after a 16 plus mile day of walking on the pilgrimage/trail that leads to Santiago, Spain.  We'll update more when we can find wi-fi.
Cheers.

Sevilla, Spain

From MARK:
I went on a delightful jog the other morning along the river in Sevilla. At some point on the way back when I had started my cool-down walk, and after picking up a morning tabloid-like paper and reading it, I realized the small, narrow streets were relatively easy to navigate. I think my navigational training in Morocco had created some sort of sixth directional sense that I had never really used or realized before. I was walking back in a rather unfamiliar city, reading a paper, and I conveniently strolled right back to our Pension. Now I'm certainly not bragging, but I did start wondering how was it that in Morocco it took 100% of my attention and we still managed to get lost? I'd like to briefly jump back to the streets of Marrakech and elaborate.

Morocco Navigation 101:
-every street looks the same: paved with brick and mud while the houses have the same yellow-brown-cream stucco. The only discernable difference I could ever see was an occasional unique door. However, I also found that someone on a neighboring street would many times favor the same door.
-maps are generally useless. They're good for an overview, but that's about it.
-streets rarely hold true to any grid like formation nor directional baring (e.g. North, South, etc.), so expect to wander aimlessly at any point; try to learn to enjoy this, otherwise your frustration levels will catapult with the exorbitant heat
-streets regularly dead end, so be prepared to turn around at any time or point. Even if you do this casually like you were just looking at the architecture, you feel a bit like an ass. It's best to laugh this off.
-most intersections contain numerous people staring (if your blonde you get extra points), waiting for you to look in bewilderment and if you do, they'll create a circle asking where you need to go, or better yet, tell you; this can also cause some undue stress; use the word no (La) frequently here if your attempting to be adventurous or hard headed
-street signs rarely exist, and if they ever did, I believe locals likely removed them or chose to have them displayed in Arabic (I don't blame anyone here, it's probably a rather fun past time to watch us tourists go in circles--a bit like hamsters. I always kept hoping for cheese at the end but never did find any)
-Speaking of, if you ever back track, and the folks standing around recognize you as a second time passer, they will swarm to you. Acting casual now is no longer an option... Get ready to pay someone.
-the streets actually twist through the houses and many times run in a circular fashion so you might find yourself passing places you've already been (bring a compass and try to maintain a reasonable direction). I think the streets might even shift from time to time, but I have yet to prove this.
-Do NOT depend on the Coke sign on a corner street near your place to use as a landmark. You will find out later that Coke signs seem to decorate several random corners that look strikingly similar
-do not depend on any discernable landmarks, as they rarely exist, and the one you can depend on, the Mosque, well, there's also more than one, and they seem to look alike
-Please forget about ever getting anywhere at night time. Just pay someone up front.
-I'd recommend a GPS, but I don't think you'd get a signal in those small streets.

Now back to our regularly scheduled Sevilla.
While the streets are narrow here, they somewhat follow a grid, and each house has it's own unique design and color, making places and personally made landmarks easy to identify.

Saturday we found a SuperMercado! We've grown a bit tired of eating out for every meal, so we purchased some good ole milk and cereal for breakfast, and goods for PB&J's. It has been quite a delight to have some simple and inexpensive meals. I'd certainly love one of dad's briskets right now, but today a bacon, tomato and cheese sandwich had to suffice. We chose to splurge for lunch and eat in for dinner (the more expensive meal of the day).

One last note on the language. It seems that most of my Spanish has come back to me (a good thing), however, I might remind myself to think a little more before I speak. The other day we passed a place serving some what-looked-to-be tasty tapas, so after we sat down I began to describe them in my broken Spanish. What I MEANT to say was I'd like those potatoes with cheese or cream sauce... and what apparently came out (couple this with the expression of the waitress) was "I'd like to order the Pope with cheese and little green things on top." To further solidify myself, I actually repeated the statement with clarity and gusto. C'est la vie?

Granada

Taken from the Alhambra.

Tarifa, Spain

From DANI:
Tarifa, Spain is a small coastal town known mostly as a jumping-off point to Morocco and for the winds that blow bringing kite and windsurfers from throughout Europe. This is where we recovered from a whirlwind trip through Morocco. We spent two nights in the small town wandering the beach and small city streets sprinkled throughout. Mark enjoyed talking with our Hostal's owner (about fishing and the sort), who was a cute, short gentleman and his wife was on this side of plump with a big smile. They were a welcome sight for our down/recovery time. They were good examples for us, as when we first arrived, the wife was "watching TV" in her chair enjoying an afternoon siesta, which we were hesitant to disturb. We spent our days planning the coming weeks of our trip and purchased plane tickets for our longer segments of travel (Portugal to Paris, and Paris to Dublin).

Early Saturday morning we got up to catch an 8:25 bus to Sevilla. The day before we had enjoyed wonderful pastries with fruit and custard filling for breakfast and hoped to do the same on this day. Unfortunately we found out that this sleepy little town didn't wake up until 9:30, so we hesitantly got breakfast at a gas station consisting of two packaged cereal/granola bars and caught our bus.

The ride was smooth and beautiful. We drove through rolling hills and fields of sunflowers. We've both finished our books and have swapped and I'm starting to wonder what to do when I'm done with this new one. Hopefully we can find some travelers in a similar situation.

The Moroccan summary

From MARK:
Well, we made it through Morocco and are glad to be back in Spain speaking the language more often just because we can. Marrakech was amazing and if you appreciate true adventure travel, this is the place! The Souks were like flea markets on steroids, with odds and ends stacked several stories high and no signs as to where on store ended and another began. Snake charmers played their tunes and Dani steered quite clear of them letting me know via a clinched arm that tightened as the musical sounds grew louder. In fact, you could likely purchase one of those little flute like instruments and play it if you ever need to keep her at bay. Just kidding Dani!

The camel trek was four thumbs up! Ali and his guides ran a great setup, complete with the two camels we rode cleverly named Bob Marley and Jimi Hendrix. Our three hour ride to our camp was smooth (as can be expected on a camel's back), and the tanger dinner that we had, complete with chicken and vegetables was excellent. Watching the sun set over the crimson red Sahara sand dunes tops the list of must sees, and sleeping under the stars proved to be one of the most relaxing nights yet. The only downside I can think of would be my didn't-know-they-existed, sore camel riding muscles. They're rather round animals and you can only imagine the position one must take in order to ride on top. We've also heard they can be mean, but Bob and Jimi seemed quite congenial to us.

Oh, our bus ride that I briefly mentioned earlier... it turns out that it was a rather nice one. On our way out of town from our camel ride, in Merzouga, we ran into a guy from the US. We were exchanging stories and he told us about his bus ride. Apparently, at some point on the curvy road across the Atlas mountains, several Moroccan riders became ill. One finally hurled (without the aid of a bag) which caused an eventual chain reaction, setting off four others. He said he didn't really feel bad, until that point. To top things off (I know you thinking yeah right, how do you top that?), when he went to retrieve his backpack from under the bus, upon opening the cargo door he found a tied up goat which seemed to have also taken ill on the road and proceeded to defecate on his luggage. I think we had a wonderful bus ride!!!

From DANI:
The camel trek...when we began planning our adventures and Spain became our main destination I made the plea to head to Morocco and take a camel ride. In fact, it was one of my few musts. This all stems from pictures I saw on my friend Carly's Facebook...she spent a semester in Spain and her Morocco pictures, including camel riding, were amazing. Little did I know what I was getting myself into!

We arrived at Nomad's Palace, the "hotel" Ali owns and runs the treks out of. We took off for the trek around 5pm and our guide, a young-ish guy named Dressa, led our camels over and around the sand dunes. The views were stunning and the dunes so strangely different than anything we'd seen before.

Dressa is a talker. He speaks many languages and when I asked him about school he said he'd never been...only to the school of life. He learned languages by speaking with tourists. He told us many stories and wished we had longer to stay...next time, he'd say. Many of his stories ended with drinking Berber Whiskey (mint tea) and relax max under the stars. He said this so many times that Mark and I have begun to refer to him as "Relax Max". We watched the sun set from high on a dune, ate a wonderful dinner, and watched as the stars came out...the only time I can compare the quiet and beautiful sky with is when we hiked at Glacier Nat'l Park in Montana. We awoke the next morning and watched the sun rise and then back onto the camels (ouch) for the trek back to the Palace...which turned out to be about 45 minutes away! We ate breakfast, showered, and Ali was nice enough to give us a lift to Rissani where we would catch the night bus (a nice one this time) to Meknes, then a a train to Tangier, and then the ferry to Tarifa, Spain! We were making a hasty retreat!

Post camel ride

Here were headed out of Morocco... After a night bus and train ride.

Marrakech to the Sahara: June 3, 2008

From MARK:
Marrakech turned out to be a worthy, pleasant stopover intermixed with "adventures". We would venture out, tell those offering services that we were just fine until we were mentally exhausted, then find a refuge (e.g. Café), and continue onward. On Monday we found another oasis amidst the jumbled souk shops. We had been wondering around looking at scarves to possibly shield off the sun on our upcoming camel trek. We had grown both mentally and physically tired, and I even commented to Dani that I would like to just sit down right there in the market just as the shop owners did. We trudged onward with aching feet. Within five minutes, a man in his early thirties with suave black hair and a crisp white shirt sitting on a freshly made chair offered us seats and hot lemon-mint tea (which he described as "Moroccan
Whiskey"). Although our immediate instincts told us to use more caution, our tired legs were delighted to rest so we accepted.

Habib's family owned the neighboring Berber rug souk and there we sat, in a craftsmen shop with the fresh smell of wood, new doors and chairs surrounding us. We had a pleasant conversation and continued it on the roof top from which we could see the Atlas mountains as well as the shops below with men dying silk in various colors of red, purple, and blue. Habib told us about his job of helping decorate local Riads with their beautiful rugs and how he had studied abroad for over fifteen years, but his family business needed his aid. It was heart warming to have such a nice conversation with such a generous person. He told us how women of Morocco hand make each rug which included their villages symbols and each was a unique work of art. You'd likely never meet the person making the rug, but they certainly do have a beauty of their own. We took a business card and he wished us a most pleasant day after recommending a place to eat in the market. His card had a website address, which I have not visited, but will include here in case you'd like to look it over: http://www.chezlesnomades.com Habib, thank you for such a nice gesture!

We set off, refreshed for the evening to do some haggling for two scarves and were shown how to tie them so that we could look like a true desert Berber. We'd love to include a few photos, especially of the one with the kid in the background showing off his belly. It's a classic, but will have to wait.

The riad remained as the highlight, even though we had to pay once again to have someone help us find it (although we left it our last night for a hotel closer to the bus station), and the dinner at booth number fourteen (Habib's recommendation) turned out to be both amazing and extremely cheap.

From DANI:
Our dinner of freshly fried fish, eggplant, a salsa-type dish, fries, and bread was amazing...until about 3am. I awoke in our rather dingy, close to the bus station (my pick) accommodation with a churning stomach. I checked my watch a little after 3. I made my way to the toilet down the hall...I won't get into the details but I believe I picked up a touch of something at dinner. It was quick and strong and coming from all directions! Thankfully, Mark was mostly able to sleep through my getting up and leaving for the bathroom several times as I would need him to lead me through our day of travel across the country.

From MARK:
I got up Monday morning realizing Dani wasn't feeling the best. After I got the details that were not included above, I realized two things: 1) I could not get sick as one of us needed to be sharp, and 2) I simply could not get sick. So, off we headed for the bus station, and just to be safe, skipping all options for food. We arrived with plenty of time and were glad to have made it that far. However, when we showed our tickets to one of the drivers we were shuttled to the side and then (in much fewer words and more gestures than anything) were told that Morocco had shifted in their time by one hour on June 1st, and therefore, we had missed the bus. Uh oh. Crap would better describe the feeling. I had one sick wife and two worthless bus tickets. The other option/bus was the indirect route, 10 hours, no a/c in the approximately 90F weather, which left in one hour from the other bus station. So, we caught a taxi and headed over. After buying ickets we approached the bus with some skepticism, as two legs of a man on the ground laid out of the rear of the bus. He had an array of tools beside him and didn't seem to be employed by Jiffy Lube. Well, we made it, through a day that I can only describe as minimal eating and a steadfast will to arrive at our destination. The only "highlight" of the trip I'll mention is a quart size ziploc that I handed to Dani. Luckily it was early on in the trip, and Dani seemed on what-could-be-interpreted-as the positive side, as she mentioned that there was nothing more left. We did meet and entrust the bus attendant, who smiled and expressed some concern for Dani by
offering her hot tea and giving us the finger tick-tock when rogue guides boarded the bus and tried to tell us they were Ali. We enjoyed the personal connection although no words were exchanged and in response gave him our inflatable neck pillow since he had worked the entire eleven hour day. There are really great people in this world, but you sometimes have to look a little harder to find them.

We arrived at the "Nomad's Palace" shortly after noon on Tuesday (with another local shuttle bus connection plus one taxi), and were welcomed by the one and only, Ali. I'll include another website, which is where we booked our overnight Sarah camel trek, which should have some
photos of Ali: http://www.adventureswithali.com He has been very nice and even gave us an amazing salad for lunch which our stomachs have welcomed.

Marrakech, part 2

Random by DANI
Things in my head:
- a man delivering goods via donkey and cart talking on a cell phone
- menus in many languages but none of them English (Arabic & French are the common languages)
- Arabic = squiggly lines and diamonds...
- the beautiful and haunting call to prayer
- maybe the women wear scarves on their heads to keep from getting sunburnt (Morocco is rather progressive and we've seen women in full hijab as well as in jeans and tees)
- I wish someone would put the rooster that lives near our place out of it's misery...not because of it's crowing but how badly it crows
- donkeys that look near death
- Cats
- my friend Angie would love the fabrics and colors!
- I miss my Seattle neighbors and think of them often (and am sad to confuse little Sophie by selling our house)
- The most important part of any transportation is the horn and there appear to be no emissions checks in Morocco... Mmmmm, the fresh smell of diesel.

A little more on Marrakech from MARK:
I'd like to give you directions from the bus station to the place we're staying. On the map it appears to be about a 15 minute walk down a major street, turn left, then right. Today we walked around most of the city; I mean literally, around it. The city wall is one of the only discernable items you can make out. Let me elaborate. Here's what happened once we found the bus station and attempted to walk back home. We entered through the city wall and decided to
follow the what-looked-to-be major street. There are no names anywhere to be found. Sometimes you get lucky and find an Arabic sign. As we came to the first "Y" in the road we decided to veer left as it looked to be more traveled. Keep in mind the 'main street' was a little over a cars width with non-stop buildings on both sides about two stories high. Just enough to keep you from getting a baring on anything. We come to another fork, and not following Frost's advice, we continued on the what-appeared-to-be the most traveled path. The street began to narrow and shops started overtaking the sky that was once above us. We turned right, and after another fifty feet the road forced us left, then right, and then right again. I think we were headed North, and I looked for signs of shadows where possible to get a reading on my internal compass. At every intersection boys and men alike are ready to tell us which way to go... and for a fee, they will take you where you'd like to go. This is kind of them, but we'd very much like to find the place ourselves. If you have a sense of adventure, and don't mind wondering around a bit, do take this option.
If you ever need to get somewhere quickly, I strongly advise that you ask someone to take you after agreeing upon a price. Several men ensured us that the direction we wanted to go was right. We kindly thanked them and continued onward. Lets see, we had made a left, right, then swung around to the east on another winding street. We hadn't seen a single landmark that we had noted on the map. We did however see a gold door that was familiar looking. Another gentleman assured us that we wanted to go that way, and he began walking in front of us. We felt like we were close, but couldn't be so sure. Was it down that alley or this one? The man in front of us had good intentions; he wanted to escort us to a tanning area where many colors abound. We would like to go, but our desire to stop by our place took precedence.

Then we passed a riad that seemed extremely close. We turned left at the next tunnel after about forty minutes from the bus station and this was it, our street-alley that we live on. Our escort was about twenty feet ahead when we took our turn. He turned around and started to follow us down our street. Everyone wants to help, and for good reason, they need to make money, and I am certainly glad to pay when services are rendered. Morocco is filled with adventure, the moment you step onto the street. Our lesson for the day was to keep an internal smile, no matter what happens. We kindly thanked the gentleman and went home. We look forward to more exploring and our camel trek that is several days away.

On camels...

Its blurry cause I took a picture of the display on my camera so I could send this one. Oh well, you get the idea here.

Casablanca-Marrakech

DANI: After happily being shown to our room (which hopefully had seen better days) we headed for the tourist information and found a friendly and chatty fellow working there. He asked us lots of questions and was helpful although he only had one map of the city...so we just looked at it and tried to make mental notes. We wandered happily enough in the vague direction of getting some dinner. We walked and eventually found the destination I had hoped for: Rick's Café. While I try to do my best to ignore the tourist traps this one I couldn't miss. We went inside and surprisingly this was a fancy place; white table clothes, decked out waiters with hats like those in the movie, elegant! We made our way to a lounge where we sat and the waiter went to the large screen TV and restarted the movie just for us. So, in joyful bliss after what I can only describe as lunacy, we shared a wonderful dinner while watching Casablanca in Casablanca! After our brains fully recovered we ventured back into the maze of streets and headed home. Thankfully Mark has a decent internal compass and he got us home through the maze of the old city streets.

5/30, Casablanca cont.
DANI:
We woke up early (actually at 3am due to the buzzing of scooters and honking of horns) and got going around 7. After a nice breakfast, we ventured with our "hotel provided at an extra charge" driver to the Hassan II Mosque, one of the few (only?) that non-Muslims are permitted to enter. We paid the admission and were given a guided tour in English. Please go search this place out on the internet...I will not do justice to its enormity. We removed our shoes as we entered and headed into the main prayer room (for men). I was amazed by it's massiveness (we were told that 20,000 believers could pray here and another 5,000 women in the upstairs women's prayer areas). The opulence was astonishing. I was overwhelmed with emotion most of the time we were there...tears welled in my eyes more than once. I couldn't imagine the expense of building this place and yet the poverty in the streets. We were ushered around and given many facts. We never stepped foot into any of the designated women's areas, except for the public toilets of which I found the women's to be a hole to squat above..no lie. Mark reluctantly told me that the men's were quite nice although lacking paper. We went into the room where the men wash before going upstairs for prayers, this too was a beautiful area but again I was emotionally torn as I liked the idea of washing clean before presenting yourself to God while at the same time prickling when our guide said that if you do not do the ritual washing, God will not hear your prayers. This is my first time in a Muslim country and Morocco is very open to the west. But I was saddened that in this beautiful place grace didn't seem to be allowed.

Our driver took us all over the city, "sightseeing" I guess, and we ended at the train station to catch our train to Marrakech. Rather uneventful (other than the lively conversation happening between our fellow passengers...in Arabic). After the th ree hour ride, we arrived and headed to find a taxi and our reserved accommodation. The ride was a good one with a nice driver who spoke enough English to keep us from feeling uncomfortable. We got to the medina (old city) and a man told our driver he couldn't go any further and that he (and his son) would carry our bags and get us to our riad (think bed and breakfast in a traditional home). They hustled us through the winding, narrow streets (I think trying to keep us from getting any baring) and proceeded to then hound us for more money. It was a gut wrenching experience. While we know that we are unemployed and homeless, they do not. And, even given our situation, we are quite wealthy in comparison. We gave them some money and were ushered into our place by a nice guy roughly our age. He poured us some Moroccan tea and let us relax. The place was stunning. We were in an internal courtyard which is open to the sky. There are three floors with rooms that circle the courtyard. The room and patios are comfortable and beautiful. We filled out our forms and ordered some dinner (Mark will tell you more on that). It was an amazing transition to a peaceful place...so much so that neither of us wanted to check out the environs that evening (and didn't).

DINNER by MARK (I'm telling about it, not making it):
We had perused the dinner menu after arriving earlier in the day, as they didn't keep much on hand. Whatever you wanted they would go out and get via the local market. So, Dani had chosen a cous cous-chicken dish while I went with a lamb something ma-bob cooked in a TANGER (a traditional small clay oven with a removable tee-pee like top). We could smell the aromas coming from the kitchen a little before 7:30, our scheduled dinner time. We sat with anticipation. Our host showed us to our seats where they had set a stark white table cloth, sprinkled dried red flowers and had two small candles lit. I felt as if we had entered a true oasis, or I was supposed to be proposing. Uh oh, I had forgot the ring.

The evening was cool as the sun had already started to set and soon our food arrived to tingling stomachs. Dani's couscous was in a deep dish about eight inches in diameter, topped with squash, carrots, and asparagus arranged to form an asterisk with chicken at the top. It looked amazing, and it was enough for three or four people. The tee-pee top was lifted off my dish and there was a dark sauce covering the bottom with a healthy serving of lamb circled by large dates with almonds balanced on top. The smell was enticing, but the taste was so much better. A perfectly balanced spicy sweet ran through the fall-apart tender lamb. Definitely one of the best meals I've ever had. I bragged a little and then gave Dani a taste.. and she agreed that it was wonderful. I generously offered to share and also enjoyed the couscous and vegetables. The dates were an added welcome, as I figured they'd help keep things going. Everything was fabulous.

We had only ordered two dishes and one dessert, which came by the name of Moroccan delights. When the tray of candies arrived we both knew there wasn't room, so we sampled a few and then wandered peacefully back to our room.