Hatless

Arggh, I did it again. This time I accidentaly pushed a switch that cut the power to my pc, all my work gone. I should admit I have wisened up a bit, as I now save quite often, but apparently not often enough. As I began with earlier that I was not to enthousiastic to start updating my log, but the longer I wait the more work it will be, I now can confide in you that I have even less enthousiasm left. So bewarned readers, this most likely will not be a very good piece for reading. Fortunately not much happened since my last report, so it should not take me that long to type.

I left you in Ouarzazate and that is what we also did after a day, because there was not much to do, except for arranging a camel (dromedar) trek in the dessert (!), which is what we did. At 10 to 5 in the morning we arrived at the busstation to head for Zagora, so we were 10 minutes early, unfortunately our bus was 1 hour and 45 minutes late. Great start of the day. What I would do when I was late, I would try to make up for it, this is something they will not do here. They acted still as if they were half an hour early. Eventually we arrived in Zagora were we tried to get a grand taxi to MHamid our dromedar ride starting point. Finding the taxi was easy, getting it filled to the max was more difficult. After half an hour we had 4 passengers, still one shy, we agreed to split the cost between the 4 of us. In the end we, Fede and I, were the ones turning up for the cost, but what else is new. An other slight problem was that the other passengers did only want to go halfway of MHamid. We decided to leave anyway and deal with the problem when it happened. In the end there was no problem as halfway there were plenty of people to share a cab with us. Who would not, how often can a Morrocan share a cab with two fine western male specimen as we? Although all that went well, I was so unlucky to lose my Nepalese hat in one of the cabs or around it. When I found out in MHamid I searched the 2nd cab but to no avail. A day later in Zagora I visited the taxi stand but ofcourse no hat. If by any chance one of you sees a Moroccan wearing a big blue Nepalese hat, my hat, please retrieve it for me and I will be in your debt forever.

In MHamid we soon found our man and after handing over the Dirhams we were set to go. The dromedars were waiting, only our guide could not be found. After a lot of calling a little kid was found to lead us into the desert. We mounted the ships of the desert and followed the guide who was on foot. (My first disapointment) We first walked through a wasteland of sand and plastic bags (second disappointment) before we reached someting that resembled anything that I imagined to be desert. After an hour and a half we reached our final destination (third disappointment) and from here you could still see the village (fourth disappointment). Our little guide set up camp while we disapointedly climbed the highest dune in the neighbourhood to have a good look around us. While our little guide was busy, the dromedars were eating bread, which should have been served with our tajine. To illustrate how far we were from the inhabitated world, the kid used my phone to call a little friend to bring some new food. The desert bread delivery guy came within the hour and left, propably to visit some other clowns in the desert who also lost their meal to the dromedars. After watching a beautiful sunset and a good meal we went to sleep in the tent. At 6 (holiday is worse than working, I usually never get up so early let alone 2 days in a row) we got up to watch the sunrise. We were way to early and the horizon was cloudy anyway so I slept for 2 hours at the top of the dune. Had breakfast and then went back in a sandstorm to MHamid. Although my companion did not like it, I enjoyed the fact that you hardly could see anything and that finally the feeling came that I was in the middle of nowhere. After a long bus ride we came back to Ouarzazate, where still not much was happening. Some famous movies have been shot here though (viewers question nr1, name 3?)

The next morning, again early, we went to nearby Ait Ibn Hadou to watch a beatiful old village with kasbah. Although a bit polluted by a busload of tourists arriving just ahead of us, it was very nice and at the top of the hill quiet as the elder people, who seem to populate those busses did not have the stamina to climb up that far. Later that day we returned to Marrakech through the high Atlas which was hard enough because of the snow that had fallen during the night.
Essaouira was our next destination and the place were Fede and I would part (snif). He had to go back to Holland and I had to stay in Morocco, as I had burdened myself with this dreadful journey to Indonesia. I had hoped it would be possible to go east through Africa and then north to Turkey. This seems to be nearly next to impossible and it seems I have to go back to Europe first before I can head east. If anyone has a better solution please let me know. I prefer not to go back to Europe but stay in Africa.

After 2 nights in the relaxed beach town Essaouira (viewers question nr 2 name the famous movie shot here?) with its beautiful bastion facing sea, I have gone south again this time to the town Tiznit, which I most likely will change for Mirleft tomorrow, about 40 km away from here.

The people who answer both questions correctly before March 1, I will honour by sending them a postcard (If I know the address) Isnt that a great price?

Puke, prostitutes and diarrhoea

After Fes I took the train to Meknes, also one of the imperial cities, but not as large as Fes. In the train I met Fedde, an Argentine, who currently works in The Hague. We got along quite well so we decided to travel together for a while. We found a nice hotel in the Medina after which we started to wander through the little streets, after a couple of hours we stumbled into a kid with a ball and we played football with him. Soon another joined and another. At first we were just passing the ball to each other, later 1 was in the middle to capture the ball after more people were joining, also adults 2 were to capture the ball. We decided to play a game of 4 against 4. The team who scored remained on the pitch, the losers were replaced. Fede and I played together with the é kids we originally started playing with. And we seemed to be an unbeatable combination. At first the teams were not to good, but as they failed to score against us they gathered better players to beat us. After 1 hour they succeeded, but I like to blame it on our fatigue. After 1 game we had to play again, which we did, but our fire was gone and we quit after half an hour. We made a photo of our team, then the father of the youngest came to me with his address to send the picture to. He was very proud his kid had done so well. I have some problems with getting the pictures out of my camera though so it might take a while before he gets it.

In the evening we had a wonderful meal in a restaurant, which really was some ones home, it tasted good, and the atmosphere was nice as well. After that went to bed as we both were very tired.

Feb-18 my plan was to go to Volubulis an old roman city in ruins. However Fede did not feel like it and as I always can go to it later I decided to join him on his trip to Marrakech by train, which took 7 hours. Here most tourists can be found, but still it is worthwhile to go here, as it is really a live place and lots to see. Although we have not succeeded in discovering a proper nightlife. Saturday night we made an attempt to find any nightlife (girls) and went to a nightclub. We were early so the club was a bit empty. There was alcohol, which we ordered in the form of caiperinas, which cost more than one night in our hotel, but so often we are not to enjoy the Marrakech nightlife. Then it struck us that all the people around were very beautiful women, hmmm. Normally not a problem, on the contrary, but this could mean only one thing, they were at work. The place we were had apart from a bar also a room where you could dance, but it opened only later. We decided to leave the place for a teahouse (best alternative) nearby to return when the dancing opened, to hopefully find some normal women. Alas, when we returned, also there the only women present had to be paid for, although now much more men were present. By the way some of the girls really knew how to dance. So after a while of watching I decided I had been idle enough and entered the dance floor. Usually I get some female attention (I did not say positive:-), but now I did not get any, probably it was quite clear I was not to spend any on them. We went back to the hotel quite early that night.

The next day we stayed in Marrakech and did not much but being lazy and sitting on terraces. Apparently this is not good for me as I got a stomachache and went to bed early. Unfortunately I could not stay there for long as I had to run to the nearest (I could have chosen a different one as well of course) toilet to start a waterfall from my behind. This activity repeated itself about every 15 to 30 minutes. Much of sleep I did not get. In the middle of the night I also had to throw up and the only appropriate place to drop it was the sink. This of course was not ideal, as the chunks tend to block the holes. So I had to stir my own puke to let it walk away. I had hoped I would feel better afterwards, who would not, but I did not. I was a bit worried because we would take a bus at 8:30 in the morning. I decided to take some diarrhoea blockers and they worked wonder well. I had no problem for the whole trip to Ourzazate.

I am still lagging but will update soon.

In god he trusts

In the evening I met Adam again on the top of the hotel, I had spoken with him before I went on my little trekking. He invited me to come along with him, to visit some fellow Quebecians in restaurant nearby. The food was excellent and the company as well. Played a game that very much looked like ‘mens erger je niet’, but was slightly more complicated, but not less frustrating. We played one game until 2, but did not finish it. Funny that I now never drink alcohol as the restaurants do not serve it. Lots of hasj though, but I do not smoke.

Next day I went with the bus to Fes. This is the cultural capital of Morocco. The medina is gigantic. Actually it is a bit to big for me, you have to walk such distances.When you get lost it takes so long before you know again where you are, that easily an hour has passed. Luckily I brought my compass. The tip I got from Adam to always walk up, when lost also works well, as at that end are the most ports.

Something really unexpected happened last night. Someone tried to convert me. That in itself is not so strange in a land of muslims, but someone, my roommate, tried to convert me to Christianity. I had told him that I did not believe in a god, although I was raised as Christian. He showed me parts from the bible to give proof of gods existence and to show why I need him. My opinion is that I can do without him, his was that I could not. We discussed about 2 hours, but he would not stop. The problem was that he was lying in the bed next to me. Even when I wished him good night he came with questions to prove me wrong. Eventually he shut up. He is not unfriendly guy though, but he is a professional converter and that prohibits him to talk about other things longer than 10 minutes.

hasj and hassle

After Malaga I tried to visit an uncle who lives in Fuengirola just south of Malaga. Unfortunately he just had moved within the same city. Both my brother and my father sent me his latest address unfortunately it was not exact equal but good enough to go with I thought. First setback was that the street did not exist only a name of builing in a newly developed area had close resemblance. I decided to go there but when I arrived the building was not even there. At the bottom of the hill they told me it is at the top, at the bottom they said the opposit. As it was very hot and I was carrying all my stuff up and down the mountain I decided to go to the beach instead. After some time I had enough of that and headed for the centre to catch a bus to Algeciras, the port to Marocco. The bus was about to leave when I arrived, but I did not yet have a ticket, I asked them to wait which they did to my surprise as my ticket acquisition did not go very fast. In Algeciras there were lots of cheap hotels and easy to find too. So I quickly could check out the centre. It was quite nice and lots of people in the street as it was friday evening. I sat on a plaza till 10 while I updated my logbook (this azerty keyboard in combination with arabic settings wont let me write all the symbols I want and once in a while it shifts to arabic I write this in wordpad by the way, no word on this machine) Sometimes I find a symbol by accident eg the ( is the symbol you get by pressing the 5 key at the top of the keyboard.

Ok after the short intermezzo I continue. The next morning I took the boat to Tanger, it was scheduled to leave at 11, but left at 12, was ok for me, but an American guy who just went on a day trip to Tanger was less happy with it. Then it also took 3 quarters of an hour to pass passport control, so he had to go back in just 2 hours to catch his 9 oclock train to Sevilla. I did not have that problem. As I bought a lonely planet of Morocco I did not even have difficulties in finding a good place to stay, a youth hostel this time. What they warn you for when you arrive in Tanger is people who want to guide you through the city for a certain fee of course. I met my guide right in front of the hostel, he said he was not guide, but wanted to offer me a good impression of Tanger as so many people where hassleing and giving a negative view on Morocco and Tanger. I was his student he said, a friend. Fine with me, but I told him that when we were done I would not give him money, he agreed. Of course 1 hour later when I had enough of it and said I would start exploring on my own, he asked for money. Then I reminded him what I had said earlier. Because he really had shown me stuff I would not have on my own I gave him something. This happens all the time in Morocco, people give you something that you do not want (usually a service) you do not ask for and then charge you money, very annoying. Apart from that, in Tanger I was asked every 50 meter if I wanted hasj, I felt like being back in Amsterdam. When I walked back after an excellent dinner for just 46 dirham (about 4.60 E) I was caught up by a very friendly guy, we talked a little and had a moroccan tea, which is very very sweet and has the leafs floating in the glass. He then told me he was a drugstrafficker and that his family had a hasj farm. He invited me to his farm to see what it looks like and maybe I could find some customers in Holland for him for a couple of kilos. I decided not to go although the offer obviously was tempting.

Instead I took the bus to Chefchaouen. This also was great fun. In Tetouan a man entered the bus with a huge bag full of Kif, I learned when he opened it to put it under the seats, also under mine as I was in the last row and in the overhead storage. When he just finished stowing it out of sight an other guy entered with even more stuff, this time in boxes. They could not really hide it but they put in on the bus anyway. They were a bit nervous and sweating but all went well. The moneycollector of the bus, wanted to be compensated naturally, which happened as with a man siiting next to me who had to hide a box between his legs. When we finally started moving again a girl in front of me was having problems with travel sickness. She asked for a bag which she filled in due course. However she threw away the sack, when she thought she was done. Unfortunately she did not ask for a new empty one, when the second delivery came all was spilled on the floor. No problem, the bus boy put a paper over it stepped a few times on it, no more problem, luckily I was at my destination in 10km.

In Chefchaoun I found a nice hotel in the middle of the medina. The first few times I had a lot of trouble finding it back. First time I wandered around for 3 quarters of an hour, before finding it. Now I know my way (a bit) in the Medina and it does not take me that long anymore, when I start at the Kasbah. Yesterday and today I did a trekking through the mountains. Was very nice again an uninvited guide walking with me for the whole trek, obviously he wanted money for his services. I did not want to upset him to much as I walked through the regions of his family and amigos. The first 4 hours of the trek were the hardest as I had to climb from 200m to 1800m, the last bit even through the snow. What was funny was that my wannebee guide was only wearing showering slippers on his feet, chilly. Going down was even worse as that side of the mountain is always in the shade, so much more snow. At 2 we reached at nice gite where I stayed and my wannebee guide aswell. The owner was very friendly and we spoke the rest of the day with hand and feet, in spanish, french and english. Good fun. Food was excellent as well. Next day no big climbs, mainly down. At one point I was scared shitless as I had to descend on a 20 cm wide ridge with next to me on my right 50m down absolutely nothing, this only tho get a beautifull picture of a natural bridge. After that just strolling to Achour where I shared (with 5 other passengers plus a little child) a grand taxi (old mercedes) to Chefchaouen, where I am now, staying in the same hotel as earlier.

I cheated, I took the train

It has been only a few days since I last reported here, but in a short time a lot can happen. In my case not much happened, but to not give you the feeling I have forgotten about you, here is a small update.

I now am in Malaga and have not much done here, except for searching a proper place to sleep. Taco advised me to go to Picasso´s corner but after a long search I still had not found it. Later it became clear that the hostel was just in a move. Of course I do not carry maps or things like that so Taco´s second pick I could not find. Loads of different hotels in the area, but they were all too expensive in my view. Well I eventually settled for the Hotel Carlos V. Above budget and an awful room, but finally a place to drop my heavier backpack than was intended while it only has room for 35L. Today I searched for a new one, a hotel that is. Taco´s second pick was full, I now have a map, so I am in a dodgy place called Rosa´s Pension, I have not seen Rosa though, but as she is not so big she is of course hard to spot. Today I was at the beach where I met a guy, we spoke for a while and I asked him where he stayed, he told me he is in Rosa´s Pension as well. What is the chance of that? (My econometric friends do not have to answer that).
Today is really a computer day as this is already the second time I am in an internet café, earlier I have worked on correcting an error in my wielerspel tool for paidiagames.com (a little bit of advertisement for our site) . That is all right as I do not think Malaga to be an exiting place, although sitting in the sun with a beer is accommodated in abundance here.

Feb-07 I travelled by train from Barcalona to Cordoba. I took about 10 hours but this was ok as I could recapture some sleep, as I had to get op at 6:30 to catch the train. Also I could finish my just acquired book “The Shadow Of The Wind” by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. A book I really can recommend. It is about a boy whose father lets him chose any one book he likes from a secret library, but he then has to promise to take care of the book for the rest of his life. The boy chooses the book “The Shadow Of The Wind” by Julian Carax. Soon he becomes aware that quite a few people are interested in this book. He wants to know more about the book and its writer and because of this he gets in quite some adventures. So far this week book review.


When I arrived in Cordoba I started to doubt if this city was worth visiting. I thought I recalled that it had a beautiful old city, but I could no where find it. After walking for half an hour I finally caught a glimpse of an old wall. Still I was not impressed, but after a few blocks I was caught in a maze of beautiful streets. It was breath taking. Added to that I bumped into very nice old hostal, “El Portillo” it had only 7 rooms. The owners lived on the ground floor, the guests on the next. On the Feb the 8th before going to Malaga again by train I wandered through the old city and visited the mezquita/cathedral. It was huge! Not high but an enormous floor with I guess about 800 pillars carrying the ceiling. I did not read anything about the building, but I guess it at first was created by the Moors and after that turned into a church. What at first also struck me in Cordoba, were the orange trees. I am not used to seeing oranges just hanging in trees let alone in every street. They also are in Malaga and they may have also been in Barcalona and although I am now quite used to them, they still beats just regular Dutch trees.

Last time I wrote I was in Barcelona, I did not do much there either, visited the regular tourist spots, Parc Guell, Segrada Familia, not to Camp Nou, sounds a bit like treason to my football hobby, but I always can return ofcourse. Like Cordoba Barcelona is so clean and neat, that really impressed me. What I also notice is that the sun makes life so much better and friendlier at least in the places I visited so far. People are just strawling around, drinking something on a terrace. Life looks so much better in the sun. So I suggest instead of raising taxes or medical costs lets raise temperatures in Holland

Off we go

The second time I start now with writing this first post, it will obviously be different and propably be shorter (and I hope better). Previously I was typing directly in the editor of the blog and when I thought I was smart to copy all what I had typed in word to save it, it all disappeared miraculously. So here we go again.

As the above already makes clear I do not always know what I am doing, just hoping everything works out. This is true for this page, I have not practiced with it as for the whole trip, no plan, no preparations. Here come the first few days.

On feb-3 I finally left Holland, much later than promised, but ok I am gone now. My first ride was only from Oosterhout to Breda but it got me on the way and I now was on the road to Antwerpen, my first planned destination, or at least direction, on a petrol station. The advantage of a petrol station is that you can ask people to take you with them and strangely enough you are much faster moving again. The next person who took me on board was an ex army guy who now worked for a company as information security manager. We spoke the whole trip from Breda to Lyon and we even touched upon Sarbane-Oxley and Basel 2, which brought back my ABN-time which looks much longer ago than 2 months. I had decided I would sleep in Lyon, unfortunately I was dropped of 20 km north and was not very successful in getting a ride for the last km to Lyon. Finally 2 Dutch girls and guy would bring me to Lyon, however the girl who was driving, kept following tom-toms instructions and tom-tom did not want to go to Lyon. After missing a couple of exits they dropped me of at the airport and I managed to get a bus to Lyon centre. I text messaged my brother for some advice on cheap hostels, but when he responded I already had chosen another. This strategy helped me enormously the next day in Barcelona, as I then got the info in time.

After a breakfast at the Rhone in freezing conditions I got on my way to Montpellier. Arie, a housemate in Delft, had told me he had friends there and that I should stop by when I was in the neighborhood. It was on my route south so it seemed like a good idea. My French ride, with whom I had a hard time communicating (I should have paid more attention in French class at school), let me out of the car after Montpellier on the autoroute. I now had no chance to go to Montpellier. I decided to try to get a ride to Barcelona with one of the many truckers. I was lucky and a Spanish guy was nuts enough to let me in his truck. He did not speak much other language than Spanish and I hardly speak Spanish, however we managed to have a good time, although 90% of what was said was lost. This propably was the reason why I left the truck on an awful spot. I walked past a dark road for about 5 km before I came in a town, where I met 2 very nice people who showed me the way to metro station with which I got in the centre of Barcelona, where I am now. Today I have walked through the city as I will tomorrow and then I think I will take a train or bus south as I am hardly able to communicate in Spanish. That is all for now. Hope you are not already asleep.