Six weeks today!

In New York now, about to go out for breakfast. So happy to be here after some sleep, but the getting here was a bit of a challenge . The past fourty-eight hours involved:

ONE head smashing on aeroplane seat in front of me (ONE bruised swollen eyebrow).

ONE tantrum.

TWO planes.

TWO pat downs.

FOUR security checkpoints (TWO whilst in transit).

FOUR countries.

FIVE different forms of public transport.

FIVE hours of sleep.

NINE bag searches.

P.S. The Hangover is the most unfunny movie I have ever seen.

P.P.S. My hair has not quite reached equilibrium yet.

Oh! Paris

Wow, it’s 2 more day before I leave for crazy hot Sydney and I’m pretty excited to be honest. As you probably noticed in our last blog we said Paris is freaking cold. That pretty much sums this place up right now. It snowed as we walked home last night and Lex and I wrote our names in several car’s windscreens where the snow was about a cm thick. In the day we walked to the Eiffel Tower and took silly touristy photos and ate street crépes and all the time complained that our fingers were in the worst pain they’d ever felt. The weather is dull and I’m seriously craving a blue sky. White is boring!!!

On the plus side, we saw Air, which I have to say was almost my fav concert all up. The sound was amazing and the lights blew my mind away. I took a video for all those Air fans

Must go, time running out.

Paris is…

freaking cold!

Marrakesh!

There’s not a lot to say, and at the same time it feels like we’ve done a million things since our last blogs.
It’s our second last day in Morocco before we go to Paris, I love Marrakesh so much. The food here has been the best all holiday. A few experiences of the past few days stick in my mind though…

We stayed in a hotel run by a Berber family the other night, out in the desert not too far from the Algerian border. Within about twenty minutes of arriving we’d sat down with the owner to have some green tea with cactus flower (affectionately known as Berber whisky) and he was demanding to know why in our culture people often have multiple partners through their life and why virginity wasn’t important (in a rather accusatory manner). I think both Ing and I were a bit stuck for what to say, and we gave each other a few looks of “… the things I could say right now”. He also told us about his marriage and how it was arranged. His wife was 14, and he was 24. Ah, culture shock.

In the souk today Ingrid and I were looking at some tajines and the shop owner tried to make a deal with us, I was completely disinterested and tried to walk away but Ing was sort of interested. He was kind of yelling at me to come back, and ended up saying “goodbye… and get lost!” A good way to get customers to come back, I thought…

Travelling makes you get excited about the simplest things. We love supermarkets. And toilets that flush, toilets that aren’t Turkish, and toilets that have toilet paper.

Ing and I went to another hammam today. It wasn’t like the Turkish one… this was a real one where the local women go actually to get clean and not just for fun. I think we were the only non-Marrakechi’s there. They scrubbed us so ridiculously clean – it was quite a bit more naked than the Turkish one, that is to say, completely.

Hassan II Mosque

In Meknés now. Lex is blogging so will probably fill you up on our travels so far. As for the Hassan II Mosque, I thought it was worth a mention because it’s so bloody impressive! This 80 million dollar project is large enough to house Paris’ Notre Dame – 25 000 people inside and 80 000 in the courtyards outside. It’s partially built over the Atlantic Sea and has a laser beam which shines towards Mecca. It also has central heated floors and a section of it is made of glass so the worshippers can look down at the sea below. The roof can be opened and although made of gold, I almost died when I heard it weighs 1 100 tons!!! Have a look at some pics if you’re interested.

Mon français est terrible

Bonjour mes amis. I have to say I’m kind of proud how far the French I learnt 8 and 9 years ago is getting us, though make no mistake, my French is BAD (Ing can attest to this).

Tomorrow we are leaving Meknès on a three day drive through the desert and Atlas mountains, down to Marrakech. There is meant to be spectacular geology in the Todra and Dadès gorges. In case you were wondering I’ve collected lots of rocks (plus some pottery from Turkey,  and some tile scraps from Merenid tomb ruins. Illegal? Perhaps, but if they wanted to protect it, it wouldn’t be on the ground…)

Today we went to Fez, saw the tanneries, got lost in the intense labyrinthine medina and met some other nice tourists. Morocco is a pretty crazy place, no where else is quite like it. It’s sort of impossible to imagine how a fushion of Islam, French, African, Spanish and Portuguese cultures can mesh, in such a variety of climates and environments.

I won’t lie though, I’m looking forward to getting back to the English speaking world. Or at least a world where the colour of my skin and my sex is utterly unremarkable.

Rabat – another world!

I really don’t like this keyboard so won’t type too much.

We are currently in Rabat, Morocco. Or accommodation is in the Medina which is surrounded by Souks (markets). I love it here because you can walk through the town and be blisfully ignored by men and women alike. The oldest part of this town is the most stunning. It surrounds the Kasbah Castle with winding cobbled alleyways of blues and plantmatter. It’s a bit of a labyrinth really.

Casablanca was busier and no where as beautiful, although the Hassan II Mosque was insanely spectacular! It’s the second largest mosque in the world. But more on it later. We’re leaving for Meknés soon.

Leave all your loving behind (you can’t carry it with you if you want to survive)*

[Haven’t had internet access for a few days – been on a Nile cruise, so apologies for the over long blog ness. Also check out the latest pics of the trip on my flickr on the right hand side bar!]

 

On Wednesday we went to the Pyramids and went inside one – you had to crouch right down and almost waddle for a few hundred metres, it was quite intense, and dark in some places with people going two ways, probably the highlight of the Pyramids for me though! Then we rode camels to the Sphinx, which was so much fun, but scary at first. Something I hesistated about, but I really enjoyed.

 

At first we had a guy leading them (Ing and I were connected and my sisters and Dad were connected), but then to make the camel go fast he got up on the camel with me. Which I found kind of awkward… camels walk really bouncily and I had to hold onto something…

 

I was kind of going “argh.. but I’m in a culture where I shouldn’t really touch the men, I’m being culturally insensitive, I’m making him uncomfortable!” and just kind of really awkwardly rested my hands on his shoulders. He was really pleasant though, and young. When we had to go down a hill he told me to put my hands on his waist, and then I stopped worrying

 

This culture honestly puzzles me. I’m thankful to be here and I’m learning a lot…. But it’s really quite odd. Somehow they have such different standards for their own women and Western women, except not always… and.. I just don’t get it.

 

 

I’m going to go a bit bare all on yo’…

I know it’s no fun to read someone bitching about stuff, but I think this stuff is important.

 

Today our boat docked at Erdu, and we went to see the temple there, which was fascinating. To get from our boat to the temple our tour guide had organised a horse drawn carriage (two actually, there are six of us now travelling together). As I blogged before, I was worried about that kind of thing and riding animals, or exploiting them. But everyone getting off the boat was doing the same so I didn’t say anything.

 

On our way back a horse a few carriages up slipped and fell over. My mum and sisters carriage ran into theirs. So Dad, Ingrid and I all started yelling at our driver and tour guide to stop our cart. We’d gone past so fast and really had no idea what had happened.

 

I think I jumped out before the cart even stopped (*Ing typing* yes you did, and the horse basically ran into the fence from confusion) and ran back to the horse. All the people were fine, both my sisters and mum were in tears about the horse. They got him back up, and he was bleeding a bit on his knee and nose… the people in his carriage had gotten in and were waiting for him to start going again!? He’d been lying there for at least a minute and clearly wasn’t ok. I got out some tissue to wipe his knee (which in hindsight was really not a clever thing to have done… Egyptian horse blood on my hand… but I did pat him and let him know I was there and going to touch his leg). [I shouldn’t have horse aids… I used hand sanitiser]

 

There were lots of locals around… they reattached the horse etc etc and then tried to get me off him to make him start pulling those fucking French tourists again. My sister was screaming at them (which did NOT help… she’s hard to understand at the best of times, and horses don’t like screaming, and the locals didn’t have much if any English). And I was trying to make them realise he was bleeding and NOT ok. Our tour guide kind of forced me to let him go. And those arsehole tourists were yelling at me to let their horse take them back to their boat.

 

As the horse took off he nearly slipped again (a few times)…. and this time I could see why he’d slipped in the first place, one of his back horse shoes was broken and coming off his foot. In some ways it’s a relief that the horse hadn’t collapsed because it was sick or exhausted, but it’s horrible to think that it’s working under such bad conditions and that it’s falling could’ve been prevented.

 

Both my sister and I screamed “fuck you” at those tourists though.

Then I felt really really really awful I was letting a horse pull me and considered getting off and walking (but I’d have missed our boat if I had). When we stopped for water I bought our horse some dates (I hope they can eat dates, and that the driver gave them to her). And also that our horse appeared to be a nursing mother…

 

I was foolish though, while buying the dates I was still distressed about the horse and a kid was miming to me he was hungry so I gave him a pound (about 20 cents). Then he attached himself to our carriage for about a minute (our driver whipped him and got rid of him). The kids are just taught to do that, I’m pretty sure. If I was thinking clearly and still wanted to give him something I should have actually bought him something nutritious, and will do that next time.

 

When we got back to our boat I searched for the horse and those tourists, but they’d gone to another boat. Which is probably good for them… otherwise they’d have gotten quite a lot of abuse from the six of us.

 

I think our tour guide was a bit confused by our reactions, but that kind of thing wouldn’t happen in Australia.

 

So that’s not nice to read, but it wasn’t nice to experience. I’m pretty sure my sister is about to become a vegetarian (*Ing here* whatever!). And I certainly won’t be riding any more animals this trip (unless I’m 100% sure they are kept in good condition and up to the journey, and even then I’ll still feel bad).

 

* I cannot get Florence + The Machine out of my head… the whole time I’ve been away a random song of hers has been in there. I’ve had one or two others… but it always goes back to her.

It’s raining men

“Would you like two Egyptian husbands?” the two men stood at the entrance to a small shopping complex and pointed at themselves. “Ha ha,” Lex and I walked past and flashed our rings at their faces as they come closer.

 It’s an adjustment coming to a country like this. The amount of times I have been groped and preposed to goes beyond the amount of fingers and toes my body can grow. Lex and I pretend we are married. Yes, to two guys we know, because talking about a man we know is easier than making one up. Plus it makes up for an awkward and rather amusing story on our return.

 In the shopping complex we found ourselves in the presence of a 25 year old Arab man who constantly told us how jealous he is of our “husbands”. A few photos and unwanted hugs later and we somehow ended up buying T-shirts for our “men”. Although I highly doubt these two guys will actually read this blog, I truly hope they appreciate what we went through for them!

 In the crowd of sleazy, obnoxious, controlling blokes you wonder if there are any out there who are… well more western I suppose. There are a few we have met, but as Lexie pointed out, are they like this because they are in a professional working environment?

Saying that, there’s one funny worker on this ship who is not offensive at all. Sometimes he will walk up to our dining table and create awesome objects with a serviette and fork, or balance two forks on a toothpick. Last night we walked into our room and there was a huge crocodile made from the bed coverings (and two coasters for eyes) on our bedroom floor. Lex and I just stood at the doorway and pissed ourselves laughing.

 Today we leave our boat and head back to Cairo before heading to Morocco. I’ve liked Egypt so far. Apart from the men, the landscape of this country is amazing. The pyramids, temples, Valley of the Kings… Rolling dusty hills of oranges behind palm trees which grow beside the Nile. Cotton plants, banana trees, animals everywhere.

People think it’s odd if you refuse a cigarette. It’s also very dusty – it would be an asthmatics nightmare – which means all your clothes look brown by the end of the trip.

 Looking forward to Morocco and it’s good food!

Cairo is…

Dusty, dirty, dry and warm. The change in climate is insane, it amazed me when flying into Cairo how much it actually really is a desert. Even though there is the Nile I’m having trouble seeing why you’d put a city here or colonise this land at all, but it is god damn beautiful though… the sunsets!

It’s so warm in the day, and really cold out of the sun. We went shopping for some lighter clothes the other night and the women in the shops gave us such greasy looks. I feel like they are looking at us “Do you have no shame? Do you not respect yourself?” and to be honest, I look at them with the same wonderment… do they think they are second class to men?

We ended up buying mens business shirts to wear over our t-shirts. I think we puzzled the shop assistant a whole lot, but he was actually lovely.

I’m feeling a bit less like “raw meat” in Cairo than I did in Istanbul. As in the men are less leery and don’t ask us out. However, in Egypt I’m yet to see any women (bar tourists or children) with uncovered heads (Ing said she saw two or three), which is totally different to Turkey. We’re just generally stared at for being white.

Cairo seems to attract a lot more Western tourists (the food would suggest that, and for that I’m relieved, no more just eating bread for me). That said, our poor Ing is having some bad luck in Egypt, her ATM card won’t work for some reason and she’s recovering from a bout of food poisoning. Don’t worry though, she’s almost all mended!

Some points I meant to make about Turkey:

Ø      Tuborg beer!

Ø      Such an odd culture that covers women from men. But women among women can be so naked.

Ø      Gallipoli was a lot more sobering than I thought it would be. Even though I completely feel it is a bit of a stretch by Australians to have sacralised it so much and absorbed into our culture. I think it’s been so heavily ingrained into my mind as a child as such a sacred and sad place. It was surprisingly emotional to actually see the geographic conditions the troops would have been up against, and to see the graves of just the known soldiers. Then to see how many perished within the first few days. I think the key factor about it is the fact it wasn’t the Australians war, or the New Zealanders, or even the Turks – we were fighting for the British and them the Germans.

Ø      I found the Turkish shows of nationalism really fascinating. Ataturk is everywhere, and unlike so many other countries’ shows of patriotism, I actually understand this one. I have this great song to give you about him.