Fez in fourty eight

To celebrate Isabella' birthday, aka her turning an odd year that she doesn't want to celebrate, we booked a spontaneous and brief trip to Fez, 22 euro round trip. Morocco is so close to Spain, but when you are there is feels like another planet.

Last time in Morocco we took a taxi from the airport, that was not a taxi, and he drove us about 10 minutes away and made us change into a friends car. . . terrifying, but we were fine, doing things under the table seems to be a common theme. So this time we swore we were going to only take the red petit taxi suggested by the book, but ended up getting another random car. . . this man however, was amazingly helpful, giving us tips of things to do while we were here, calling our accommodations to have someone come and pick us up from outside the Medina. A far cry from the Casablanca experience, this boded well for Fez.

We met out "little man," as Isa like to call him, outside of the Medina. The Medina is a pedestrian and donkey only labyrinth of narrow streets. It is the largest Medina in the world, and the most terrifying place at night, small passageways, darkly lit, sneaky little doorways. The Medina is a place where anyone can get lost. . . even a little GPS like me.
Our accommodations were anything but modest. We oped for a newly renovated palace, the Dar Bensuela. We were giddy by the site of it, a middle courtyard that looks up to the sky, flower pedal laden beds, fancy modern shower, beautiful mosaic and giant old wooden doors. It can only be described as incredible perfection. We had dinner downstairs by the fireplace, more than we could eat, each bite better than the one before.

Since we had only 48 hours, we knew that we had to see as much as we could on Saturday, we hired a guide for a half day (we are sure now, the only way to get around the maze that is the Medina), he showed up an hour late, but was great and friendly from there. He took us to see fountains, mosaics, the oldest university in the Medina, a tannery, to see the kings palace. . . such wonders around every corner. The donkeys were the most terrifying part, the streets are so narrow two people can hardly walk side by side, and then out of nowhere, a Donkey comes barreling down the street. I was hit more than once. None of the aggression of Marrakesh, and a lot more charm. The guide was great for most of the day, until he decided he liked me. . . at which time he asked such questions as "Have you ever tried love?" and said "The man that gets to massage you is lucky." He invited me to get henna the next day, but I politely declined.

Our last day in Fez, Said, the Palace's go-to man, arranged for us to go out shopping with "the little man." The prices in Fez were much higher than in Marrakesh, we think they are not used to tourists so they price everything so high to start, the only good deal we found, was on these decorated pair of ballet flats. Then we went to a Hamam, or bath house, the floor was so hot we couldn't sit down or stand up. . . the steam was suffocating and the scrub harsh. . . tortuous spa day. Back at the palace, Said arranged for us to have Henna, we went to the roof that overlooked the Medina and with a tray of rose petals, had our hands decorated in delicate patterns. I am already trying to figure out when I can go back.

(coco)nutshells of Riley

elephant skin rocks

chinese brush painting islands

monkeys on the lamb

phallic pagoda

a Williem shaped hole in the universe

swiss family robinson cabanas

Rousseau landscapes come to life

low tide passages

trials of a boat only location

candle wax caves

henna stone stained hands

shrovestide tide pools

sea cucumbers, not to eat

crab balls

lime, chili, coconut green mango salad

live in the moment

Our New Years Eve day a bit hectic. Noogs, The Ranger and I leaving Bangkok for Krabbi with no hotel, and surprise, they were hard to come by . . . on the way to the airport we take a chance at stopping by a travel agent recommended by our cabbie, and miracle, bungalow! Back to basics bungalow, dinner on the house with karaoke, gifts and birthday celebrations. We decide to head into town since the free dinner was a variety of unknown meats, smiled and choked down. We end up at small shack, great Pad Thai, curry and pancakes. A show put on by two fire twirling men, captured light trails. With 15 minutes to midnight, and no place to go, we decide to head to the beach. Without our knowing, so had hundreds of locals and tourists. As we walk, we notice these little red and white lights moving in the sky, UFO's? Moving stars? radio towers? Lanterns!!! Giant small people sized lanterns, little tissue paper hot air balloons. We get down the beach where hundreds of people are lighting off these magical capsules. Giddy with laughter, watching all the lanterns rise and the people smiling in the warm glow. We get our own lantern, hotter than I thought, giant fire ball, scribbling my thoughts and wishes for the new year, we let ours go; up up up we watch it become a little star, just a dot in the milky way.

New Years Resolution: live in the moment.

listening to: Jesca Hoop

The Big Mango

Sweaty, hustling, modern, flowering Bangkok. Feels like a non-descript Asian city, posters of cheese smiles, weird blobby characters. Advertisements for whitening skin cream, lemongrass fizzy drinks and computers that roll up to be carried like a yoga mat, the city doesn't scream Thai, until the Grand palace.

The Grand Palace was the Palace of King Rama 1 to 3. The most opulent buildings, an entire gold mosaic building, ones with evil monster men made out of colored mirrors, the emerald budahh sitting high. Praying chicken women and delicate flowers. It was overwhelming, we were glad to have a tour guide, although our time was too short. I could have spent at least 4 hours. We had 1.

The next temple we saw was the reclining Buddha, durian head Buddha. From elbow to head, as tall as the entire temple. The whole time with little metal dinging noises, a sort of calming or sound. As you walk along the front of the Buddha, he is intterupted by ceiling to floor pillars. Golden with long legs. The toes are inlaid mother of pearl, whorl prints. When you get to the other side you can see where the metally tintibulations are coming from, little mettal orbed pots hanging in rows that you walk along and put a 1bh coin into. The sound is incredible. The reclining Buddha site is also home to the first ever school in Bangkok to teach massage. There are drawings of people and pressure points all around.

Hoi An

Hoi An is a city of artisans, tailors, cobblers, silk makers, lantern shapeers, with a river that floods nightly. It has lovely beaches and terrifying bike rides. A hand made skirt costs 6$, a coat 20, tailored to fit. A giant bloated rat that I almost stepped on and motor bike ride by our sweet young tailor to find just the right buttons, such a charming city. River and ocean, great food, clothes, bikes.

The discovery of the "lighthouse" restaurant, and the pinnacle of my food experience in Vietnam. The "hot pot" a simmering brother of lemongrass, ginger, tomato, mushrooms, lemongrass deliciousness. You let the broth boil and add in lots of veggies and tofu!

Biking is quite the thrill seekers adventure. The roads have very few rules (and yes this is 'nam). 20 motor bikes going in each direction, no one has mirrors or looks where they are going, families, pigs transported on the two wheeled death traps. Sharing the road or rather fleeing like schools of fish every time . The dirt, black smoke and flies just about suffocate.

On the way back to the airport, we stopped off at Marble Mountain. It was a key strategic site during the Vietnam war, and was often used to house the sick and wounded. The mountain was an incredible site of temples and caves to climb, breathtaking views and calm. Vietnam's charm is nothing short of magical.

near temple, no onion

The only two things I know how to say in Vietnamese. . . near temple, no onion.

Vietnam for Christmas. It felt just like any day, well any day in Vietnam, so not like just any day, but definitely not like Christmas. On the eve we decorated our potted Norfolk pine with cranberries and popcorn and a big red bow for the top. We ate home-made (by me) pumpkin curry soup, focassia bread with goat cheese and layered grilled zucchini and red pepper, banana flower salad, arugula salad and spring rolls, with pomegranate and cava drinks; not the traditional Toussaint Paella or chilis en Nogados, but delicious none-the-less. It was 70 degrees and sunny, and no snow to be found except for the fake frosted windows and tacky sparkly tinsel that hung from the palm trees. . . surreal.

Hanoi itself is overrun with rats and motorbikes, probably the same number of each. The danger of crossing a road downtown I liken to wrestling crocodiles, it is possible you might not get hurt, but unlikely. Babies, being held between the mother on the back and the father driving, men carrying plasma TV's off the back of their motorbike, ten pigs in baskets tied on to the back, entire flower shops teetering off the seat of a moped. All the men and women with masks to keep out the thick exhaust.

The city is exhausting (exhausty and exhausting), if it isn't the thousands of mopeds, it is constantly haggling for a price, or watching to make sure someone doesn't steal your shoes right off your feet. We had a shoe shine kid follow us, and as soon as noogleson stopped, started buffing the thin strip of leather (pleather? leather uppers?) on her shoes and as she lifted her foot, took the shoe off! So there she is standing on the street, the dirty, rat infested street, one shoe on the other off. The boy takes out a piece of tire and begins to re-sole the shoes! It was pretty incredible, for 3 dollars, newly shined and resoled shoes. . .

Christmas Day: The fabric market is a maze of small stalls from floor to ceiling covered with bolts upon bolts of fabric. Some vintage because they have just been sitting there since they were new bolts and others lovely silks and cottons. Haggling over the price became wearing, and the choices and disorganization of it all did me in, in less than two hours. Leaving worse for the wear with red checked cotton and stretch navy blue thick blend with some thick woven silk. I was ready to be done making decisions and bargaining.

Off to Hoi An tomorrow where the yards of fabric will be transformed. Merry Christmas.

("good luck" cell phone numbers for sale as graffiti)

Listening to : A Charlie Brown Christmas: Linus and Lucy and All I want for Christmas is you: Mariah Carey