I arrived to Biarritz Weds evening with a cold, a sore throat, and an ear ache from the plane. Time to slow down…. While collecting brochures at the airport information counter someone approached me and asked in English “Are you with the explorer group”? What? No. “Oh, your outfit, I thought maybe you were part of the group…….” I was wearing short western boots, jeans, a scarf and the only jacket I have. Not very French I know, but really??? I caught a taxi to my hotel, and rolled up with just enough energy to check into my room and ask where I could get something to eat. Thankfully my hotel was right in the middle of town with shops, restaurants, and bars all around. I chatted with the manager Arnaud for a bit, and met the resident career traveller/surfer staying in the flat across the way. He had a strange resemblance to someone I knew….. Who was it? Oh yes, Gary Busey in the ’90s. With an equally “unusual” personality. After that – an early night!

The next day I took advantage of the fact that I had absolutely nothing to do, and didn’t leave my room until about noon. I had a full blown cold and felt woozy, but needed to do some errands including getting a new cell phone, finding the laundromat, grocery store, and pharmacy, and making arrangements for surfing lessons. I checked in with Arnaud who set me up with a map, and marked all my stops. After some investigating I had to go to the neighboring town Anglet to get an unlocked cell phone. (A small but significant point I learned to clarify after I found out the cell phone I bought in Spain was useless when I tried to insert a Moroccan SIM card). I went to the bus stop, got directions, a map to the bus, and off I went. Shockingly easy.

While picking up my cell phone I noticed a giant Carrefour in the shopping center and decided to check it out. I had never been before, and the best way I could describe it is like a more upscale version of Target. And like Target, I wandered around for hours looking at things I didn’t need to buy. Aaahhhh – the aisles and aisles of stuff!! Then I went “home” to the hotel, and spent the night resting and nursing my cold.

Friday I woke up still not feeling great, but I was determined to go for a run! I hadn’t run in about a month and a half with traveling, and not being sure if running alone was a good idea. Now that I could run around freely in tights and a tank top I wanted to take advantage. I ran down to the ocean, and along the walkway up and down the beach. I don’t know if it was the ocean air, the much needed exercise, or seeing all the people in skimpy bathing suits, but I came home feeling calm and confident!

After showering, I stopped for my daily visit with Arnaud (my new BFF who speaks perfect English, and has a slightly twisted sense of humor), and he mentioned he was going for drinks that night with a former guest of the hotel if I wanted to join. Sure – cold or no cold, I can’t stay locked up in my room all the time. Later that evening I joined Arnaud and James for a drink at the bar down the street. James was from Australia, and was taking advantage of some new found free time to spend a couple of months in France. He had checked into the hotel for a short time, and ended up staying a month. This place is the “Hotel California” of Biarritz! We were joined by another one of Arnaud’s friends, and spent the evening talking about such serious topics as: how to swear in multiple languages, dating, traveling etc. I was having a great time, but as the night wore on my voice wore out. Within a couple of hours I was hoarse, so I sent myself home. But not before I committed to a bar crawl the next night.

Even though in the last couple of days I hadn’t done much, it was obvious that France was a world apart from Morocco. Getting around, running errands, shopping, daily interactions….. Those were the things that stood out to me. It may seem like the last couple of paragraphs are pointless observations, but they were a the stark contrast to my pointless observations in Morocco just a few days before.

After a while the days started to blend together like a proper vacation. Do some stuff, visit with my new friends, take naps. I took a couple of days of surfing lessons. After 4 nights at the hotel I tried to extend but they were booked, and I moved to a surf hostel. Different location, but the days mostly stayed the same (except with a long walk to town). I had intended to check out some of the neighboring towns (Bayonne, St. Jean de Luz), but found that I was perfectly happy to stay where I was. Biarritz was exactly what I needed to recalibrate. A small town, south of France, right on the beach, tail end of the tourist season so not too crowded, weather was beautiful, everything was easy, a blend of casual surfer culture and luxury tourist industry. I liked the place, I liked the people. It was going to be very hard to leave. 9 days after I got to Biarritz I moved back to the same hotel for my last night. And so, I left from the same place I started. Still sick, but feeling rejuvenated.

Things that came up along the way:
– If you thought taxes for the wealthy in the US were high – in France they are proposing a temporary tax rate of 75% for people making over 1 million Euros!
– The French words for pedestrian (piéton) and prostitute (putain) sound very similar to me.
– I’ve downloaded an app for my Ipad to translate French to English. Unfortunately sometimes things get lost in translation. I tried to call a taxi with it, and basically spoke nonsense. I ended up having to call Arnaud at the hotel to have him call the taxi for me. I repaid the favor by introducing him to the movie the Rocky Horror Picture Show. I’ve heard there is now a young handsome straight Frenchman humming the “Sweet Transvestite” song around Biarritz.
– The people you meet in hostels are always interesting. My first night at the surf hostel I found out one of my room mates lives in Astoria NYC. I also met a Swiss guy who will be traveling SE Asia the same time as me. I’m hoping to meet up with him along the way!

The next morning we left early for the CTM bus from Marrakech to Essaouira (a beachside town). Another mode of transportation, and again nobody hassling Nancy! (I should have offered someone a tip to bother her. I would have paid 100 dirham for that no problem.) The CTM and Supratours busses are like night and day compared to the local bus I took to Chefchaouen. I guess in hindsight….the first experience made for a good story.

While we were waiting for the bus to leave we looked out the window – and there was Allan from Riad El Zohar!! He had told us before that he and Malika were catching the bus to Essaouira for a couple of days as well, but we weren’t expecting to see his smiling face that early. We said hello, and exchanged Riad information so we could meet up.

The bus trip was uneventful – other than the goats in the tree branches on the roadside which I woke Nancy up for. Apparently the goats love the fruit of the Argan trees, but can’t always reach them from the ground, so they climb up the trees to get it. I’m sure the goats we saw on the side of the road were coaxed up the trees for the benefit of tourists, but it didn’t make it any less strange to see. By the way – you know that Argan oil that’s in all of our cosmetics and hair products now? The traditional way it was produced – step 1) goat eats Argan nut from tree. step 2) goat digests all but the kernel from the nut, and then poops it out. step 3) person collects the kernel, brings it home and makes Argan oil. It was so quick I didn’t get any pics, but this gives you the idea.

Once we got to Essaouira we quickly checked into our Riad, dropped our bags off, and then wandered around town. We were staying within the medina (another UNESCO world heritage site), at a chilled out beachy feeling Riad. As soon as we could pull ourselves together we went off to explore the Medina. It was a much less hectic town, still plenty people trying to get you to stop and visit their stores – but in a less aggressive way. Everyone was more relaxed, you could smell the ocean….I could just feel the tension in my muscles (what I had left of them) release. We stopped in a couple of shops, walked along the top of wall of the medina, looked out at the ocean.

Finally we realized we were starved and desperate for lunch! Thankfully at least one of us did our research (not me), and had read about a seafood market with fresh fish that you could have cooked for you right there. We found the market, checked out a few of the stalls, and then picked a sampling of squid, shrimp and fish. Just behind the stalls is an area with a couple of kitchens where you go to have it prepared and eat. It was packed!! Eventually we handed off our bag, and sat down to a shared table. They sell drinks and sides, so we ordered some Fanta, fries, bread, and dug in. Delicious!!!

After lunch we wandered the spice area a bit, and were stopped by an enthusiastic young guy remarking on the Fanta bottle I was still carrying around with me. Apparently it used to be his favorite, but they changed the formula so now it didn’t taste as good. He convinced us to follow him to his shop to try a tea concoction that was even better. I know…. I know – haven’t I learned my lesson yet about friendly strangers? We were having such a good time, and were so relaxed we followed anyway. We sat down in the little shop he worked at, had some tea, he played on the guitar a bit, we chatted, some other French and Spanish tourists he had befriended stopped by to visit – we were having a good time. He invited us all over to his place for some wine and tagine that night. The tagine was amazing! A friend of his stopped by who is a professional performer of traditional music, and was awesome! And low and behold, one of the French friends was also a professional guitarist, and treated us to a couple of songs. We stayed late, sang songs (or hummed when we forgot the lyrics), and laughed. It was an incredible night!!

The next morning with too little sleep we woke up to go ride quad bikes. We got a little tutorial on how to ride the bikes, and then were sent off with our guide Simo. We rode out onto the beach and along the water. Beautiful!!! Simo lead, Nancy was a dare-devil racing behind, and I took up the rear. We stopped at a beach next to a cave where a rotating cast of “hippies” lived. It was a beautiful spot, we wandered along the rocks for a while and took pictures. Nancy
is never one to shy away from the camera, and while she was hamming it up a huge wave came along and drenched us! Simo laughed. We’re pretty sure he knew that would happen.

After that Rachid (the owner of the quad place) sent us to a restaurant in town and treated us to an amazing lunch!! While we were walking into the restaurant we looked up – and oh look….Allan and Malika! We decided to give them a little space for once, and sat down to a separate table, but chatted for a bit after lunch.

Right after lunch we went back to the hotel to change, and off to meet up with our Fanta friend from the day before. He was taking us to a nearby town to go horseback riding on the beach. We got a bit of a late start, and finally got into a taxi around 6 or so. After a half an hour taxi ride we arrived in Sidi Kaouki. Our friend found someone to rent horses from, and we finally got going around 7. The thing is, I’ve never ridden a horse before. Nancy had, but I hadn’t. These horses were beautiful, and well cared for – but they seem much bigger from up top. They got me up, and we went off along the beach. It was amazing walking along, not a soul on the beach but us, and the sun was starting to set. It was surreal. We walked along for a while. I was fine. Then we walked a smidge faster. I was having a great time! Then just a little bit faster – I slipped sideways a little and almost fell off. Not having a great time!!! I panicked. I had visions of falling, breaking my arm, and going to the hospital in Morocco. That probably would have made for an interesting blog post, but would have put a damper on my kite-surfing aspirations for the next day. From that point I was adamant that this horse and I would only walk!!! Sorry to my 3 partners that were forced to walk as well, but there was absolutely NO WAY. We watched the sunset, and spent forever getting back because of me. Notice how it looks like my horse is practically standing still?

That night was Nancy’s last night, so even though we were exhausted from the long day we went out for a quick dinner, and then a drink. The next day we stopped by Allan and Malika’s Riad to say goodbye, Nancy left to catch the bus, and I moved to my new budget Riad.

After a power nap I went to the surf school for my kite-surfing lesson. We packed so much into the last week that I was beat! I walked in the shop like a zombie, and was told that I would have to hang out for a while as there wasn’t any wind. No problem! I grabbed a snack, and chatted with the guys at the surf shop for a couple of hours. Finally, the call was made – no kite surfing today. Oh thank god. I went home and took a nap!!

The next couple of days were pretty uneventful. The wind was only good one day so I managed one more kite surfing lesson (still not on the board!!!). I did get a couple of regular surfing lessons in though, and I found out I like it lot! You’re able to make more progress sooner, so you don’t feel like a complete failure. The school was excellent, and the other students and staff were really friendly. Great way to spend the next 3 days on my own! The one thing I will say – Moroccan’s have very long eyelashes, and beautiful dark eyes. It can be very distracting to try to pay attention to what an instructor (or anyone) is saying with eyes like that. I need a very old unattractive instructor for future kite-surfing or surfing lessons if I am ever going to make any progress.

From Essaouira I took the bus back to Marrakech and overnighted before my flight out of the country. Morocco has been awesome. My time has been jam packed, but I had only just scratched the surface. The culture and customs were completely different, and sometimes confusing. There were highs and lows (a few unmentioned). The country is modern and westernized in some ways, but very traditional in others. There are things that are considered “wrong” here – but you see people do them anyway. Drinking, dating, touching in public….all wrong, but not really. But really, but not really. But really. Half the men willing to start a conversation with you either are angling for money, or are hoping to sleep with you. Not everyone of course, but enough to keep you on your guard. On the flip side I’ve met some of most genuinely kind and funny people (like the ladies in Chefchaoen). To add to the confusion you can wear whatever you want, but often I covered up anyway to avoid extra attention (especially when traveling alone). You can run alone and be safe, but I found I was too intimidated to try. I’ve loved it here, but it’s not always easy. I face-timed with my cousin Cammy and she had a perfect observation – it makes you appreciate the freedom you have as a woman in America.

Monday morning we were picked up early for our trip into the Atlas Mountains and the Sahara.
We would be spending the next 3 days and 2 nights driving around with our guide Ismail. Ismail was very friendly – AND turns out he was a guide to the stars. He’s worked for Leonardo DiCaprio, Sarah Jessica Parker, Ridley Scott, and several more. Made us feel very VIP.

We loaded up, settled in and got ready for a long day of driving. Had a little nap on the way out of Marrakech, and then woke up to a preview of the drastically different scenery we’d be seeing over the next couple of days. Nothing but brown mountains broken up by olive trees and other miscellaneous trees for miles. Only once your eyes focused, you could see there were actually villages! The buildings were made out of earth mixed with straw and bamboo roofs, so they literally blend into the surroundings. Except for the satellite dishes that is…. From what I could figure out they are either made of “rammed earth” to create walls, earth bricks, or some are made of modern material but are covered on the outside with earth. I thought this was amazing, but couldn’t imagine it would last very long. One big rain storm and there goes your house! When I asked Ismail he said it doesn’t rain that much (oh right. desert and all), and they only have to repair every couple of years.

We stopped for coffee and pics, and then back on the road. As we drove we begged Ismail to put on some arabic music, and tell us a little more about the culture and traditions. Obviously we were curious about relationships and marriage. He explained that yes, in Morocco you could have multiple wives, but it wasn’t that easy. You have to be able to show the government that you can support more than one wife, and also get permission from your first wife. He said it’s not all that common. I was curious about how this arrangement works, and asked Ismail if the wives live in the same household? He kind of laughed and said “No, that would be like putting two snakes together – hissssss.”

(Going out of order a little bit here – but more along the marriage/relationships line. The Moroccan government passed laws in 2004 to protect women. Not too sure on the specifics, but I think among other things it gave women the right to seek a divorce, ensured child support, and gave women the ability to marry without parental approval – all of which was new. The whole dynamics of relationships is kind of a mystery to a foreigner. You really aren’t supposed to touch the opposite sex in public, and people aren’t supposed to have sex before marriage. But the views on that are very different for men and women. In fact men can kind of do what they want, but for women they are essentially kicked out of their house and ostracized if they are believed to have had sex before they’re married. Women are expected to be virgins on their wedding night, and “proof” is shown in the form of a bloody sheet. So I guess all the libidinous dudes are having sex with foreigners and prostitutes? Not exactly. Hymen reconstruction surgery is a booming business here.)

During the day we watched the scenery go by, stopped in Ouarzazate for lunch and visited the Ait Benhaddou Kasbah (another UNESCO world heritage site). It’s a large Kasbah (Islamic city or fortress) with the buildings packed tightly and surrounded by defensive walls, and the oldest buildings date back to the 17th century. Not many people live here, as most have moved to the newer side of town. They have shot a ton of movies here including Gladiator, Prince of Persia, The Last Temptation of Christ, Jewel of the Nile and a bunch more.

Ismail showed Nancy how to wear her scarf on her head like a Berber man – and she spent most of the next day and a half this way.

More driving. Completely unimportant, but I noticed that there were completely different soil colors in different areas. But sometimes in the same area you could see a bunch in one area – green, brown, rust, tan.

We ended our day in Tenerhir – a small town in the Dades Gorges.

That night we relaxed at the hotel, had a delicious dinner, and then were treated to a jam session with singing, drums and dancing! Video couldn’t come out because it was dark, but at least you can hear it!!

The talented musicians plus Nancy

We dropped off our bags, and then took an hour and a half camel ride into the Sahara desert where we would overnight.

Our group consisted of me, Nancy, 3 Arabic speaking brothers, and a daughter. We didn’t understand a word of what they were saying, but we did understand they were able to update their Facebook status the whole time. Once we got to the tented Berber style camp we met up with a Japanese group of tourists, and sat down for dinner in the middle of the circle of tents. After dinner we gathered around to another jam session. Everyone is so talented here! Makes me feel lame that I can’t contribute – no voice or real sense of rhythm (without alcohol).

At some point in the evening it became obvious that one of the 3 Arabic speaking guys was extremely afraid of bugs. All of a sudden this giant scary looking guy would shout and RUN out of the tented area. Not only was it funny to watch, but it became a major source of entertainment for the evening. We stayed up until almost 2am listening to music, playing games, and watching the other guys torture him. They would catch “cockalackas”, wait until he got close and throw them at him. At one point he hiked his jellaba, cursed, hauled ass out of the tented area, and then refused to come back. I think he slept by the camels that night…

Unfortunately it was overcast that night so we couldn’t see the stars, but around 5 am I woke up to go to the bathroom and they were EVERYWHERE! It was intense. Then we got a little over an hour later and watched the sunrise over the dunes. You can never get a moment like that to come out on film.

To be honest – I spent most of that day sleeping in the car. I’m sure we passed by some beautiful scenery but I was exhausted! Then Ismail brought us to his home to meet his family and have some tea. Nancy and I had mentioned to Ismail that we loved how the Moroccan ladies do their eye make-up and loved the henna, so he arranged for his daughter and sister in laws to give us a Moroccan beauty session. I wish someone would have given me a scarf to cover up that hair….

We got back to Marrakech late, and then spent the night before we headed off to Essaouira in the morning.

I left Chefchaouen early the in the morning, and caught a CTM bus to Casablanca. What a huge difference from my first Morocco bus trip! Much smaller train station, no hassle, easy to find my bus. The bus had assigned seating, didn’t break and everybody was nice. I got off the bus in Casablanca, and my friend Amara was there waiting for me at the bus station!! She got a taxi and literally took me to the train station to meet up with my friend Nancy. She brought me to get a snack, made sure I was settled, and instructed me not to speak to anyone before she would say goodbye. (She went way out of her way again for me! I can’t thank her enough.) But even the train station was fine. Nobody hassling, the police were there escorting out any trouble makers literally by the seat of their pants.

Nancy and I had made a plan to meet at the ticket counter of the bus station, and hoped for the best because we wouldn’t be traveling with cell phones. Like back in the “old days”. At the last minute we found each other and boarded the train. I upgraded to first class so we could sit together. Word of advice – first class is the one you want.

The shuttle service was waiting for us at the train station when we arrived. All going smoothly. Nancy and I were laughing because she had read my last blog post before we met up, and prepared for the worst – but this was great! I can’t exactly say that I wanted her to be hassled….but come on, really?! This was a cake walk!

We got to our Riad – Riad El Zohar which was literally stunning! We walked in to the open center of the building with a pool, it was beautifully decorated, and our room had AC. The owners were a lovely British/French couple Allan and Malika. (The smaller pics are from Nancy.)

Allan and Malika walked us to Djemaa el Fna so we could eat our way through the food stalls in the night market. They showed us all the landmarks to look for so we could find our way home. Our Riad was in the Medina so the streets are all narrow and winding – you could get lost for hours if you don’t know where you’re going. Or you could get led the wrong way if you ask the wrong person for help. One of the places they pointed out was an alley with a covered wooden overhang, and Allan explained that that was built for the Sex in the City 2 movie. The scenes in the movie were supposed to be in Abu Dhabi, but because ladies can’t run around in skimpy clothes they created the set in Marrakech. When it was being built Allen asked one of the shop keepers what was going on and they said it was for the “Sex City” movie. So Sex City is now how he refers to that street, and how we know we are going the right way “home”.

We wandered the food stalls in the square and sampled harira soup, dates, kebab, snails, slilou (peanut paste with spices) and had fresh squeezed OJ. We watched a couple transvestite dance groups and listed to some guys singing and playing music. It was sensory overload with sights, tastes, smells, noises!

The next day we had breakfast at our Riad and chatted with Allen. He set us up with all the places to go for the day, gave us advice and a map, and sent us on our way. We went to the Ben Youssef Koran School.

Then we went to find the Photography Museum. There were some beautiful photos of Morocco in from 1870 through 1950. We had lunch and tea up on the terrace, and then were headed off to see the tanneries. All afternoon we got the expected calls from the shop owners, but nothing unmanageable. There are always people asking where you are going, and then pretending to be friendly and take you. But you can be sure they expect some money. We managed to not engage all afternoon until we went to the tanneries. A man was walking with a boy, and acting like he was just being a helpful citizen. He pointed us to a tannery, and another man ushered us in saying he would show us around. Nancy and I had side-barred along the way and decided we would only tip if someone gave us a tour through the tannery – so, ok. He gave us a couple of sprigs of mint he called “Moroccan gas mask”. You could smell the tanneries down the street, so you can imagine the smell inside! They prepare the skins in giant vats, and use pigeon poop, animal urine…you name it. Looking inside the vats they are either a milky sea of gray, or full of hair. It’s wild, and sometimes toxic. The guys climb right in there and mush everything around. We asked to take pictures of a couple of them, but unfortunately a lot of people don’t want to have their pictures taken. Then he led us across the street to a shop to “show us the finished product”. Surprise! We talked with them a little, and they tried their best to get us to buy, but weren’t overly pushy. Then on the way out the guy from the tannery asked for his tip. He said 100 dirham for the walk around. No way!! We gave him 40 and walked off with him acting mad. Whatever.

We wandered through a little of the Souk, I got a one handed butt grab by some man walking by, we checked into a new Riad, and then went to the “local” hammam for an authentic scrub and massage. What an experience! The ladies only speak French and Arabic, so all communication was through gestures. We walked into the entry room, they gestured for us to undress right there. Down to our underwear. The ladies come out in their undies, grab your hand and lead you back to a common room with just tile and cement. On one side there is a half wall with a fire behind it that heats the water. They fill up plastic buckets with water, sit you on the floor, take black olive oil soap and rub you down. Then they take these brillo pad like gloves and scrub you within an inch of your life. The skin comes off in little dough rolls. They just push and pull you around so they can get everywhere (almost). At one point I’m laying there with my face practically in the ladies lap, and Nancy is cracking jokes. It was hysterical, but I was trying so hard not to laugh!! I was probably cleaner than I have ever been, in a place that would never passed US hygiene standards. Oh yeah, and that underwear that you walk in wearing? By the end you walk out wrapped in a towel, with your freshly scrubbed underwear in hand. Well Nanc – we’ve known each other for 8 years. Now we know each other a little better. I can assure you I wasn’t looking. No pics!

That night we stopped by to grab our bag a bag we left at Riad El Zohar, visited with Malika, and then spent the rest of the evening at our new place – Riad L’Orangeraie. Also stunning, and they treated us like VIPs. They upgraded us to two separate rooms, set us up with dinner reservations, and escorted me to a pillow place in the medina where they got their pillows Art Akhnif. The owner helped me choose a kilim, and then they specially made covers to the size I requested, and had them ready by that afternoon! I have no idea idea how I will get them home, but after two years of looking for the perfect ones I’m sure I will figure it out.

From there we went to visit the Jardin Majorelle. It is a garden designed by a french artist Jaques Majorelle in the 20s and 30s, and then bought and restored by Yves Saint-Laurent and Pierre Berge in the 80s. There is also a Berber museum that has Berber jewelry, artifacts and clothes that represented the different areas.

We followed that with a visit to the El Badi Palace. It was built by a Saadian Sultan in the late 1500s, and is now pretty much ruins.

That was all the sight seeing we could handle for one day, so we headed back to the souks to finish up some shopping. We were hoping to get hopelessly lost, but for some reason we kept finding our way out, and then trying to get back in. 2 things I never knew about Nancy? She’s a shamless haggler, and according to the shop owners must be Berber-Chinese.

That evening we stopped by Riad El Zohar to visit with Allan and Malika again. Can you tell we got attached? They are just so funny! Then went to dinner and called it an early night. We left at 8am for a 3 day trip to the Atlas Mountains.

The last 5 days have been a roller coaster! I left Capetown at 8am on Sunday, and after 4 flights I landed in Casablanca on Monday at 9:30 in the morning. I was exhausted, and not quite ready to launch myself into the Casablanca madness – so I was glad that I had arranged a shuttle pick up with my hotel. I made my way to the arrivals area and walked around all the guys holding signs looking for my name….but saw no one for me. I waited, and waited but nothing. Finally I decided to call the hotel. But of course – the pay phones didn’t work. Eventually some guy approached me in English and asked if I needed help. He offered to call the hotel for me on his cell phone. Rule number 1: do not talk to people that walk up to you and offer help. I know this rule, but I was tired and desperate. I didn’t want to have a mix up with the shuttle that I would get charged for AND still pay for a taxi, so I called. They said I could either take a taxi, or the shuttle driver would be there in half an hour. I opted not to wait, and the oh-so-helpful man helped me to get a taxi – and then got mad when I only offered him 20 dirham. He wanted 50 (about $5.70 US). I was in no mood to argue.

I settled into the taxi, and thought about the things I would have to get done that day. The taxi driver made some conversation about how long I would be in Morocco, and where I was going. I mentioned I had to go to the bus station that afternoon to get a ticket to Chefchaouen for the morning, and he said they were closed because it was Ede (3 days of celebration after Ramadan). He offered to take me to get a ticket somewhere he knew. Sounded fishy to me – no thank you. Then he asked how many people I would be traveling with because it may not be that much more expensive to hire a car (of course I lied and said 2). He said it would be 1,500 dirham. A bus ticket was 150 dirham – no thanks. At last we got to the hotel, and he said it was 350 dirham for the ride. Except the “helpful” man from the airport said it would be 300 dirham. Welcome to Morocco.

After I got to the hotel I showered, changed, and was ready to face the world. First order of business was to sort out the bus ticket. The bellman Hassan showed me where the CTM bus station was just down the street. Guess what? They weren’t closed after all. BUT, the bus was sold out, and I would have to wait until the next day. I didn’t want to give up just yet, so I went back to the hotel to see if they knew of another way to get to Chefchaouen. My man Hassan came to the rescue, flagged me a taxi, told the driver to take me to the “private” bus station, go inside with me to get me a ticket, and then take me back to the hotel. Success! I got a ticket for the 9:30 bus, and was told to be at the counter at 9.

The next morning I got there early and stood near the closed ticket counter looking for the guy. I stood until about 9:15 watching people lined up talking, then walking away, then coming back. I was starting to worry. Absolutely no one spoke English and most of the signs were in Arabic, so I couldn’t even read the places etc. I walked up to someone with my ticket in hand and just asked “Chefchaouen”? A man brought me the back of the building where the busses were, dropped me in front of a group of people, and left. This was not going well at all, and I was going into full panic mode. I turned to a lady and again said “Chefchaouen”? She shook her head, but someone behind her said yes, and spoke some English! I said I was sticking with her! She and her friend looked after me, and helped me exchange my ticket for the 1pm bus. We went inside to wait, and I noticed periodically a man would walk through the building shouting the names of places “Fez”, “Tangier” etc, and people would run after him with their luggage to get to the right bus. Finally the Chefchaouen man came and we hustled across the parking lot, put our luggage in, and got our seats (me directly in front of the two friendly ladies). Whew! Except when they started up the bus there was a loud bang. It broke. We waited for two hours on the bus in 95+ degree heat with no AC, and couldn’t really be sure that they would ever fix the bus, or get a new one. While we were waiting guys would walk through the bus selling water, watches, fans etc. One guy walked up and brusquely dumped a handful of candy bars into my lap. The ladies (Amara and Bouchra) shooed him away, then laughed and said “Don’t worry, we’re your 2 police women”. Finally there was an encouraging rumble the bus, the engine started and we were off!

The bus ride was 6 hours, no AC, and crowded. The bus driver stopped a couple of times to pick up a couple more people, and they were sitting in the aisles. At some point one of the guys working on the bus got out, and climbed into the storage area under the bus. To take a nap? I don’t know. He got back out, and back to work an hour or so later. My two police women chatted with me on the ride, and played music on their phone. When we finally arrived around 9 they helped me get my bags, walked me to my hotel across the street, and sat down for cookies and tea. After I was settled they gave me their phone number to call the next day.

The next afternoon I called them and they spent the rest of the day with me. We went to Akchour which was about a half an hour out of the city. It was crowded with people and cars backed up as we approached. We walked down to the water, and walked around for a little while. There is a beautiful waterfall and natural bridge-like rock formation I’ve seen pictures of. None of us knew to prepare for that kind of hike, so we just cooled off in the water. That evening they invited me to dinner, and I spent most of the next day with them as well. It may seem like I rambled on a lot about the difficulties in Casablanca (and there were a million more I didn’t tell), but it was only to put some perspective on how relieved I was to meet these two. I would have been lucky to meet them anyway, but after all that craziness in Casablanca, to have them looking after me meant so much. They were patient, funny and fake-bickered like sisters. They made sure my hotel was up to par, helped me get my bus ticket to Chefchaouen, helped me exchange my departing ticket – I could go on and on. They even gave me some gifts to take with me, and treated me to get my hand henna-ed. They were a discerning pair – I knew if something/someone got their seal of approval I could trust it (people, hotel, shopping etc).

Bouchra and Amara left today, but instructed me not to talk to anyone at the bus station, and to call when I got to Marrakech. Amara even made me promise to call when I get to Casablanca so she could pick me up from the bus station, and take me to the train station for Marrakech. I have two angels looking over my shoulder in Morocco. And one friend from New York I’m very excited to meet up with in Marrakech tomorrow! Some pics of my friends below. Note the straw Chefchaouen hats.

After all of that I didn’t even get to tell you about Chefchaouen! It’s in the North West of Morocco, in the shadow of mountains, and is known because of the blue color they paint a lot of the buildings. The people here are much easier on tourists than in Casablanca. After my friends left I had no problem on my own. As a woman walking around alone I got minor attention, and was followed by one guy for a bit – but I never felt threatened or uncomfortable. Pasting a couple pics below. Sadly the one picture I got of the city was out of focus you get the idea.

I left the next morning to catch the Baz Bus down the east coast of South Africa towards Capetown. The Baz Bus is a hop on/hop off bus that takes you to different backpacker spots mostly along the coast of South Africa. It’s more expensive than the public buses, but literally takes you door to door, is safe, and usually has some interesting people. I got to South Africa with absolutely no plan after Gwexintaba other than to catch the Baz Bus to Capetown. Between Stefanie’s suggestions, feedback from people that you meet at the backpacker spots, and the Coast to Coast book (distributed free at every backpacker spot that lists the other hostels along the bus route, prices, contact info and a short description) I had a good idea of where I wanted to go within a couple of days. As a solo traveller who isn’t familiar with the country, they couldn’t have made it any easier for me!

Before I got to the Baz Bus though, I was going to need to take a minibus taxi to the Mthatha bus stop. The minibus taxi’s are used throughout most of South Africa to get from city to city. They usually pick up at a taxi stand, and wait until they have a full passenger load before leaving. (Then they might squeeze in a few more passengers – because why not?) The owner of the Kraal drove me to a nearby intersection that the taxis were starting to pick up at now, flagged down a taxi, and helped me get settled. I am glad that I took one while in South Africa, but I can’t say it was particularly comfortable, pleasant smelling or relaxing.

I finally made it to the Baz Bus stop, and my first stop was going to be Chintsa. I was headed toward more developed areas, and was looking forward to better wifi, easy to get to stores, being able to walk more places, etc. Maybe I was biased, but Chintsa was like a watered down version of Port St. John to me. In fact – most of the places between the Wild Coast and Capetown left me a little disappointed. To me the Transkei felt unlike anywhere else. It was beautiful, challenging, and full of personality. As I got to more developed areas they felt more and more like they could have been anywhere. If I had it to do over again I would start at Capetown and work my way up. Instead it was like having the climax of the story at the beginning. Oh well. So between that and the rain, I don’t really have much to say about Chintsa or Knysna.

In Port Elizabeth I did a day visit to Addo and Schotia game reserves – which was pretty cool! I saw a Giraffe, Zebra, Elephant, Lion, Ostrich, Rhino, Hippo, Kudu etc. At the Schotia reserve I rode in a little solo seat on the hood of the truck, and was as close as I could possibly get to the animals! By the time we got to the deadly animal part I had to go back inside the truck though. I wish I had time to do a more remote Safari, but this was a good second best! If you look below you can see the 2 month old baby elephant.

My last stop before Capetown was Stellenbosch. I spent two nights, and took a wine tour (visited Simonsig, Fairview, Boschendal and Dieu Donne).

Tuesday – more rain!!! I hung out at the backpack spot during the day, and caught the Baz Bus that night for Capetown.

The next day I woke up, and as I finished up my breakfast I started talking to my neighbor Michael about what we’d be doing for the day. Turns out he had literally just flown in from London, was also traveling solo and was trying to figure out what he wanted to do. We made a plan to rent bikes, and ride to the waterfront to catch the ferry to Robben Island. Robben Island is a small island in the bay that used to be a prison, and where Nelson Mandela was for 18 of the 27 years he was imprisoned. Now it’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site (is it just me or does it seem like there’s a lot of those?). Between boats being cancelled due to weather, and the ferry being booked a couple of weeks in advance, we were out of luck. No worries – we stopped for lunch, and tried to buy jackets to keep out the cold. Then guess what happened? Yes, it rained. So we had drinks at a bar overlooking the water until the rain died down enough for us to bike home. We ended up having a great time despite it all, and hung out the next couple of nights as well.

That Friday I had scheduled a Harley tour around Capetown. I found it in the Coast to Coast book, and it sounded like a much more fun way to see the city than on a bus! At around 9am I heard a roaring engine, and as I was thinking how loud it was I realized – oh wait, that’s for me! I ran out to meet my guide Werner, and hopped on the back of the bike. It was incredible! It had finally stopped raining, and it was amazing driving along the coastal roads. There were moments when it felt like one of those flying dreams…. just floating forward in the air, looking down the mountain to the ocean just next to me. He took me to a ferry to see some seals, Simon’s Town to visit a penguin colony, Chapman’s Peak, Cape Point, and the Cape of Good Hope among other places. There were baboons and ostriches at the parks along the way.

Saturday was my last day, and pretty much the only sunny day while I was in Capetown. I took advantage, and went on a boat to swim with great white sharks! I guess swim is a bit misleading. More like float in an underwater cage hanging off the side of a boat. It was totally bizarre – I felt like I was watching a giant TV. I wasn’t even afraid because the idea that I was in the water with sharks seemed so impossible to me. There was a point though when the nose of the shark got a little too close to the cage and I ripped my hand away from the edge for fear of losing it. At that point I also realized I had my feet resting on the back of the cage, that I thought was against the boat. Only when I actually looked behind me there was open water behind the cage. That was it for me and I got out shortly after. I am too slow with my camera so I didn’t get any good pics, but you can at least get an idea of how close they got to the cage. They breeched a couple of times too which was amazing. We saw a total of 5 sharks that day, but we only saw a max of 3 at any one time.

South Africa in general seems like it was made for extreme anything – bungee jumping, sky diving, paragliding, abseiling, surfing, etc. It’s a good thing those backpacker places are so cheap, because it allowed me to do things I wouldn’t have been able to do otherwise. I never did get to Table Mountain and Robben Island. Next time….

As I’m writing this it’s 14 hours into my travel headed for Morocco. I’m sitting at the airport in Qatar, and finding myself annoyed that the man behind me can’t seem to stop talking, and sounds like a duck. Headphones.

South African speak – potjie (stew), braai (bbq), bakkie (truck), jawl (good time), pau pau (papaya), lekker (seems to be anything from great to cool to nice), howzit, a general “yeough” sound (wow?), babbelas (hangover), biltong (jerkey), robot (traffic light), just now or now now, shame, hectic, sharp

After about an hour taxi ride Stefanie and I arrived at Amapondo – the backpacker spot where we would be staying. It was a little outside of the main town of Port St. John, in a slightly quieter area called second beach. It had a totally chilled out vibe – beautiful view to the ocean, cows strolling on the beach, and monkeys running around.

This was my first time staying at a full fledged backpacker type of place, and I was really liking it! Come to find out as I went to other backpacker spots later in my trip, this one was one of the best. It was pretty basic, not very good wifi, and not the newest of anything (sheets, beds etc), but for the equivalent of $15 US a night you could get a bed in a dorm, it was safe, clean, there were hot water showers and it was in an awesome location almost right on the beach. It’s a really informal, friendly type of atmosphere, a wide age-range of people, almost all wanting to meet and trade stories, and there were lots of common areas and a fireplace to lounge around. You could just hang out and do your own thing, or arrange a day trip with reception. There was a communal kitchen if you wanted to bring your own food and cook, or you could order breakfast, dinner and drinks at their restaurant for under $20 US a day! After living off the grid for a week and a half, it felt pretty luxurious to me. Particularly after a nice hot shower!!

That night was a full moon – and like any proper backpacker spot with a bar they were hosting a full moon party. From what I have heard about full moon parties, this one was pretty mild. Lots of people drinking, drumming, face painting, hoola hooping, and some wigs and wacky sunglasses came out. Just a night of good clean, slightly drunken fun. I spent the night sampling the South African drinks (some I bought on my own, and some I was given whether I wanted or not) – Hansa beer, Savanna Dry cider, Hunter’s Dry cider, some kind of shot, and Gluehwein (mulled wine – it’s German but somehow it got thrown in the mix)

The next morning we woke up, took stock of what kind of shape we were in after the mix of alcohol the night before, and after a little food and coffee decided we weren’t feeling bad at all! We ended up joining a group for a guided walk to a waterfall. The walk lasted a couple of hours and took us through the rain forest to the waterfall with 3 stops for “swings” along the way. I’m not a big fan of heights, but Stefanie went first, and was so nonchalant about it she got me to try them all. Unfortunately I only got pics of two of them….

The view on the way back.

That night was pretty uneventful, and then the next day we decided to take a walk to Third Beach. After some back and forth, the ladies at the backpacker decided it would be best for someone to go on the walk with us. I’m not really sure if they were worried about safety, or about us getting lost. In general I’m a little confused about what is and isn’t safe here. Everyone has different things to say about it, and pretty much the only thing they all agree on is not to walk anywhere after dark. There is a pretty big divide between the people who have money and the people who don’t. And in the Transkei even the budget backpackers are rich compared to most of the locals, and they’re easy to spot.

After recruiting an escort we headed off for our walk through the rainforest along the beach. Our guide was a pretty rad rasta named Bongs. He chatted us up with stories about the area as we went. We walked along the beach for a while, then walked out on the rocks in the water looking for – I don’t know what? Met these guys who were out fishing for crawfish. They sell them to people, or the restaurants around.

On our walk back we came across this – a poisonous water snake! It was dead thank god. Between the cold, the sharks and the snakes these waters were becoming less and less welcoming. Beautiful, but not welcoming. That’s Bongs by the way.

That night we hung out and visited with people at the bar. We talked with a couple of guys from Johannesburg who were working on some road construction in the area. From what I gathered they did something related to demolition, and in my experienced opinion were two prime examples of South African men – friendly, down to earth, earnest, rugged, “brus” (South Africanism – bro or dude). After a bit they broke off into a separate conversation which looked pretty serious. My ears perked up, mildly curious about what subject could possibly tear these two straight men away from conversation with two reasonably attractive women. Turns out they were debating the vocal stylings of Mariah Carey vs. Freddie Mercury. Very butch. Ouch – I need to start putting a little more effort into my appearance again.

We had a good laugh and spent the rest of a great night telling jokes, chatting and drinking. We were leaving to another backpacker spot in the morning, but had such a great time with those two we made plans to go on a hike with them the next day. After a little confusion in the morning we got a late start, so instead of a hike they gave us a ride to the place we were staying (The Kraal). Stefanie chose this place, and the owner was a friend of Louis’ I met when he came for an afternoon visit to Gwexintaba. All I really knew about his place was that it was a sustainable set
up, and was right on the beach. After driving for an hour we parked and took it all in as we got out of the truck. It was set in between two hills, with a view straight into the ocean and horses roaming the hills. Peaceful and calming. You could even see whales just off the coast.

We dropped our bags off, got a quick tour, and then went for a walk down to the water. We explored, climbed around the rocks, the boys chased crabs. I felt like a curious kid with new friends. We stopped to take a couple of pictures, and just as I was taking my turn behind the camera a huge wave came up and drenched the other three! It was cold and overcast, but everyone was giddy – because of the place? The people? I don’t know, but we were having a good time. Then already drenched, one of the boys jumped into the ocean and the other two followed suit.

On the way back to the Kraal a couple of kids came up and were selling crawfish. The guys bought some and we brought them back to cook on the fire. We sat around the fire until dark, ate, shared a couple of beers and talked. Finally the guys said goodbye, and we went to bed. As an adult it’s not often that you meet a group the you can play with like that, have the time to spend, or find a place that feels like it’s out of a dream. I was genuinely sad it had to end.

The next morning Stefanie and I watched the whales and dolphins as we had our coffee and breakfast. We went for a couple of walks, talked a lot, relaxed a lot. I’ve been lucky with my travel up until now in that I’ve had some great friends meet up along the way to share the trip and experiences. In South Africa I’ve been lucky to meet great new friends, and one really good one that I got to spend a little more time with in Stefanie. We had spent about two weeks together by this point, and with no TV, smartphones or news we – got to spend a lot of time talking. Where we came from, where we are going, what’s for dinner. It will be impossible to look back on my time in South Africa and not think of her. In a way she introduced me to the country, and helped me to feel comfortable here. In the morning I would leave for the next half of my trip down the coast, and have to say goodbye. I didn’t really want to leave, but knew it wasn’t right to stay either.

This should go a bit faster! Friday we got up and headed back to the school. The kids came in and got right to work. Digging, digging, digging. Sometimes in their enthusiasm they dug up onions that were left there from the old garden. Ah well…. I forgot to mention, there is a bit of an age range. They are all grade 6, but the kids that live further out have a long walk to school so they start a couple years later.

After class we headed home, and I relaxed a little bit. I’ve been reading Nelson Mandela’s Long Road to Freedom, which has been awesome to read while I’m here. In addition to it being a great book, it’s been nice to learn more about some of the history of the country I’m in. So I read a bit.

The Headman came over to talk to Louie that afternoon, and it seemed like serious conversation (about the water pump among other things). I didn’t want to intrude and felt a little awkward, so I left to give them some privacy. I asked one of the other girls about it later, and she said in their culture they are used to having people around all the time, so it wasn’t really necessary. She said the best thing we could do would be to offer them something to drink, and go about business as usual. Live and learn!

Friday night was “movie night” at the house. Every Friday some of the kids from the village come over to watch a movie on Louie’s laptop. Tonight’s movie was The Gods Must Be Crazy. Which I found kind of – crazy! I hadn’t seen it in YEARS, but I remember it being more of an adults movie with kind of a strange sense of humor. But the kids found it hysterical! In fact, they find a lot of things hysterical. They laughed when the coke bottle fell from the sky and hit the guy on the head. They laughed when the people fought over the bottle. They laughed when the rebel terrorist guy did a lot of the things he did. I laughed because they laughed.

When the movie was over they treated us to a couple of songs. Their voices were beautiful, and some of them stomped their feet while they sang to create a rhythm section. I wish I could have recorded it but it was too dark, so I just enjoyed.

Saturday we got up in the morning to go with Louie while he cut some trees for the headman. After he cut them we used machetes (or bush knives as they called them) to peel the bark off the widest parts of the trunks. Louie took them back with us so he could flatten them as they dried and use them as wind breaks around the garden I think.

That afternoon some of the kids came over to play. We watched them hula hoop (which they love and are really good at), and then tried to play some softball. The kids didn’t really dig the softball rules. We started off on two teams with a bunch on the field, and a bunch waiting to hit. Slowly the team on the field got bored, and wandered over to join the guys waiting to hit. But what they really liked was to run, and at first preferred to run around all the bases after they hit the ball (whether they were “out” or not). Eventually they gave in and tried to follow the rules about when they had to stop etc, but I don’t think they had as much fun with that.

After that we built a fire, and some of the kids hung out to play drums and sing. These guys are so talented! And they’re just kids having fun!!!

Sunday Louie took us on a day trip to the beach. We put mattresses and blankets in the back of the bakkie (pick up), and headed out. On the way we came across some ladies doing laundry. Since they don’t have electric or piped water here they do the wash by hand in the river. So much of the time I’m unsure about whether or not it’s rude to take pictures so I miss a lot of the day to day things, but I got this one. They had to have been freezing!!

They must have gotten more tourists around this area, so I also got to see first-hand some of the not so nice effects of tourism. Instead of the kids just grinning and waving because they were fun and friendly, these kids happily yelled “sweets?” and held their hands out. Which I suppose was cute, but somehow seemed less purely innocent. It probably didn’t help that it was followed by a man who said that he was hungry, and asked for 2 rand to get something to eat – as he rubbed his giant pot belly….

Just another view along the way. By the way – it is freezing here!! My pajamas have merged with my clothes as I am too cold to change, and my general strategy is to pile on as many clothes as I can fit on top of each other. If you are thinking my body looks disproportionately large compared to my head in the pic below – it’s because of all the layers I have on.

After a long drive we got to an empty resort and walked down some stairs to the beach. It was completely empty, peaceful and absolutely stunning! Spent a couple of hours relaxing and then headed back, and made it home just after dark. In addition to it not really being safe after dark, there is one other practical matter – it’s hard to navigate the giant bumps in the dirt roads unless you know the area well.

Monday was uneventful. Tuesday Louie left to do some research on food forests, and permaculture farming. The idea behind a food forest pretty incredible. The principle is to learn from how natural forests develop – how to create fertile soil, the different types of plants, the order that they appear, and roles they play etc. A food forest uses that model, but with food bearing plants. The forest will largely maintain itself, and could last for years. This is a dream and long range goal of the project.

In the meantime we had the school garden that needed fertilizer before we could do much planting. We needed about two truck loads. Tuesday we headed to town for grocery shopping, and stopped at a couple different places along the way to see if we could get our hands on some shit. The guys headed into the first place we stopped, and came back out shortly after. No shit. Back in the bakkie and drove to the next place. Again, no shit. We drove on, not really sure what we were going to do. I sat there in the back of the truck, worried about where we could get the shit from. Then I thought – “When in my life have I given so much thought to shit?” What a new position for me to be in, that I was trying to obtain shit. And having difficulty. (By the way I normally wouldn’t use the word so liberally, but that’s what we were all saying. If you say it with an accent it kind of sounds pleasant.)

We brought some meat back from the grocery store and that night had a braai (BBQ). South African sausage is delicious! We also tried a trick we learned from a couple of guys that stopped over one night. Take a squash, cut it in half, put some chakalaka (a spicy condiment) in, put the two halves back together, wrap in tinfoil and then cook right on the fire. We were excited to try it, but must have used a little too much chakalaka because it was spiiiccccyyy. I had burning hiccups for about 15 minutes after that. Then a couple 18/19 year old guys came from the village and played music and hung around the fire with us. Again – great music!!! If the kids can sing and play well – just imagine these guys with years more practice.

Wednesday was my last day. Stefanie was going to be traveling on as well, so we would be leaving together the next day. It was freezing outside so Lisette generously suggested I stay inside and bake Xhosa bread. A couple of days earlier we had bought a loaf from one of the “Mamas”, and had I loved it. Kind of moist, and almost heavy. The girls wrote down the ingredients for me to mix, we let it rise for a couple of hours, then they helped me get a fire going so we could cook it. You cook it in a pot with a small fire underneath and a small fire over it. After a while they left me to man the fire. I’m not exactly experienced in fire maintenance so my little fires kept going out, and we had to let it cook longer than normal. When it was finally done we let it cool, and took off the lid – excited to see how it turned out. Unfortunately the bread split, and the top half came off attached to the lid. Shame. My first Xhosa bread came out mangled, slightly burned in some places and undercooked in others. In the middle was good though!

We woke up the next day, said goodbye to our friends, and Stephanie and I left for Port St. John.

Couple of notes to help tie some lose ends, or didn’t make it above and I don’t want to forget. Gwexintaba is in the Wild Coast/Transkei area in South Africa. Under apartheid policy of “separate development” this area was declared a Bantustan (area set aside for members of a certain ethnicity. In this case Xhosa speaking blacks). It operated as a separate “country” from 1963 – 1994, that no one in the world recognized except for South Africa. The leader for most of this time was Mandela’s nephew who essentially ruled as a dictator and squashed any form of opposition. This helped me to understand a little how the area could be so extremely impoverished and underdeveloped compared to other areas. It also helps to explain why there is still so much raw natural beauty.

– The people speak Xhosa (which includes a couple different clicking sounds in the language). Strong traditions including:
– It is customary for a groom to pay a bride price to the bride’s family. Usually in the form of livestock. Married women will cover their heads and wear long skirts. They have a tough life and work extremely hard – responsible for all aspects of maintaining the household, family, keeping their husband happy etc.
– The boys undergo a ceremony in their teens where they symbolically become men. They go for a long time (I think several weeks) into the bush, and stay in a temporary structure that is built just for this use. As part of the ceremony they are circumcised and taught how to be men.
– One tradition that is dying out is facial scarring. I think they used to do it to babies. I can’t find anything online that explains why.

I woke up Sunday a little worse for wear from the party night before, and headed to the airport. After an overnight flight and two layovers I arrived in Durban, South Africa. Like a walking zombie I collected my bags, and headed out to meet the taxi driver my destination had arranged for me. And my destination was….. how to explain? A volunteer/backpacker spot I found on the internet after days and days of searching before I left New York. I had wanted to spend some time volunteering, but most of the places I found weren’t quite right. After a lot of thought I decided I wanted to get involved with a project that was part of the local community, possibly related to farming/food supply, rural, and would take volunteers for a relatively short period of time with no experience. What I found was a lot of for-profit organizations, that were pricey by South African standards. There’s a lot of benefit to those types of companies with the organization and resources they provide, but I wanted something less packaged. One website led to another, and after a couple of inquiries I settled on Be Out in Africa.

I didn’t know a lot before I came other than it was small, in a rural village in the Wild Coast/Transkei region of South Africa, and was involved with the community through various projects including gardening and water supply. You pay to stay there, but the overhead is basically nonexistent, and about $35 US a night covered very basic food and accommodation. It was started and run by one guy (Louie), and you could stay as long or short as you like, and be as involved as you wanted to be in the volunteer aspect. No press, no reviews etc. It was a risk, but I had the time so I decided to chance it.

During the 5-6 hour taxi ride I dozed ever half hour, and rapidly went from city to country. The architecture changed, the landscape changed – everything. There were wide open stretches of land with few buildings, broken up by an occasional cow in the road, and fields with semi-controlled fires (I guess set to burn down the grass). Every once in a while we’d drive through a small city/town swarming with people darting in and out of slow moving traffic, shops (some in buildings, some in makeshift structures built from corrugated sheet metal or trailers), people with stands on the side of the road selling things, ladies carrying things on their heads. This wasn’t Europe anymore. Eventually we went from hillsides to forest, paved roads to bumpy dirt roads, and arrived to my destination after dark. Louie and the guests greeted me and brought me into the main building which was one large round building where the kitchen/living area was, with lofted sleeping areas above. After dinner and conversation I settled into my one bed loft space and called it a night.

I woke up the next day (Tuesday) and had an early breakfast with the group. There was Louie, Stephanie from Switzerland who had been there 2 months, and Lisette and Martyn from Holland who had been there about a month and were planning to stay for 11 months.

They showed me around, and if it hadn’t sunk in the night before – in the light of day I knew I had never been anywhere like this. It was nothing but fields and valley, hills and round huts all around. Adding video of the view from right outside the house. Listen to the wind – brrr cold!! See the 2 round houses about 3/4 of the way through the video? The building I stayed was right behind them.

There is almost no infrastructure in the town (Gwexintaba pronounced with a small click where the “x” is) – just a primary school. There’s dirt roads and no electricity, phone lines or running water. Where I was staying there were 2 outside toilettes, one with an open side instead of a wall with a view of the valley. (I never could get comfortable with the open one. There was no one there to look in, but I couldn’t help but think of what might pop out at a vulnerable moment.) The shower was also outside the main building. The water came from a tank, and you lit a small metal container filled with kerosene and paper to heat the water for a hot shower.

They showed me the garden where they grow their veggies. It was winter, and the garden had fall off a bit so they were in the process of building it back up again. Replanting and setting up a drip irrigation system. I’m sure I won’t remember everything correctly but I think they had tomato, sweet potatoes, spring onion, basil, corriander (which I thought tasted exactly like cilantro. Just looked it up on Wikipedia – it IS cilantro), chard, spinach, garlic, pineapple and rosemary among other things. The garden was organic so no chemical fertilizer, and they used natural methods of pest control. They planted sporadically with the veggies all mixed up so if a bug was attracted to one type of plan it couldn’t travel easily to the next one of the same type. The intention is to live as sustainably as possible – solar panels, organic garden, compost etc.

After my tour we went for the 15 minute drive to Magwa Falls which was just the other side of the village. The homes we drove past were mostly traditional round huts called roundevals made of mud bricks with thatched grass roofs. Most were painted turquoise (some were pink) with black borders around the bottom of the buildings. Some were more modern rectangular shape, and some had corrugated metal sheeting over the thatched roof. Generally each home is 2+ buildings – one for cooking and one for sleeping. The floors are coated with layers of cow dung mixed with water, and then spread evenly. It’s not uncommon for extended families to share a home. Also the men can have a couple of wives, but from what I heard each will have their own homestead. Some of the houses grow corn, and a few more grow a couple of veggies. It was hard for me to tell who had livestock because cows, goats and sheep roam all around. Literally – you look outside while working one day and they’re right out the window. Look out again a couple of hours later and they’ve moved on. As a city girl on my first day there was lots to absorb. Attaching a pic I took from later in my trip so you can see what the round houses look like.

When we got to the falls we parked outside a comparatively super-luxe and modern building – completely empty and locked up. Apparently a large sum of government money was allocated to building a tourist/information center with a view to the falls. Whoever was responsible for that must have had a lot of foresight because I didn’t see one tourist outside of our group in my 10 day stay there.

The falls themselves were beautiful. 144 meters high dropping into a steep gorge. The area immediately below was virtually untouched – not only because it was hard to get to, but also because there is some superstition around it. I was told the local Sangomas (healers) will go to collect plants there though. While we were there they showed me the water powered ram pump that Louie installed a while back. The water pump is set a little ways down the falls, and provided water for the project’s house and for the village. I’m not entirely sure how it works, but it somehow uses water and the force of gravity to pump water from the falls back up into the village. It is literally the only source of “piped” water, and saved the women walking several bucketfuls of water the half hour back to their homes everyday. A couple of months back the pump stopped working, and as you can imagine it was a hot topic. (The Headman paid Louie a visit to discuss during my stay there.) Louie had checked the pump and pipes leading all the way back to the village but couldn’t find what was wrong. He had heard about other potential pumps, and was putting out feelers to see if he could get a replacement.

After the waterfall we went back to the house and spent the afternoon with some of Louie’s friends that made the long drive for a visit. It got dark by 5:30, so after they left we made dinner and went to bed early. I forgot to mention….in our setup no electricity = no electric stove or refrigerator. Everything was cooked on either a portable gas stove or over a fire. Shopping was once a week, so no meat or perishables that couldn’t be used up before they went bad. Kudos to the chefs (i.e. everyone there who took a turn cooking).

The next morning was Wednesday – gardening class day! After years of talking Louie finally got the school principle to agree to a set schedule to incorporate the gardening class into the curriculum for one of the classes. They were given Mon, Weds, Fri from 8-9 am, and started the term the week before I got there. As an outsider it has taken him a long time to build relationships with the small community. His vision was to establish a volun-tourism based set-up that uses tourism to fund/support projects to improve the quality of life for the local community. Step 1 was water supply. Step 2 was to help refocus the community on gardening to produce a larger portion of the food they eat, and also teach sustainable methods of gardening to maintain healthy productive soil. The families receive government aid checks and use that to buy most of the food they eat. Their diet is very basic – a lot of bread and corn based things (including pap which is like corn meal porridge). They are not starving, but would benefit from a more balanced diet with a greater variety of foods. Plus, if they are able to grow more of their food, they can use more of the aid they receive for other basic necessities. Not to mention be more independent if those government checks go away. The current strategy it to focus on the educating the children with the belief that once they learn and are successful in growing a variety of veggies they will bring them home to the family, and hopefully adopt the skills in a home garden. What does this all hinge on? Easily accessible water supply. Gotta fix that pump!

After class we went for a drive to Lusikisiki for the week’s grocery shopping. Kind of overwhelming. Most of the shops seemed to sell a little of everything. From underwear to TVs to vinyl flooring. There was the main street with shops, a couple of banks, a couple of big grocery stores and hardware stores. There were tables set up along the streets where people sold all kinds of stuff – cell phone chargers, oranges, bamboo mats, you name it. Stephanie pointed out a land line phone sitting on a sidewalk table where people could come and pay to use it if they needed to make a call. As the only white people around we kind of stuck out. Took this pic on the way to town.

The rest of our day revolved around looking into this other water pump Louie had heard about. A preacher not far from the village had installed it for his house, but it had been out of use for several years. He told Louie he could have it if he helped him chop down some (a lot) of trees around his house. Before he agreed he wanted to make sure it was in decent shape, but it was mostly buried underground so he couldn’t get to it. We dropped a couple of guys off on the way to grocery shopping to start digging it up. On the way back we saw they had hit a glitch. A giant slab of cement surrounded the pump, and water from the stream covered the area they needed to dig so they couldn’t really see what they were dealing with. Fortunately a couple of guys had hitched a ride from us on the way back, and Louie offered a little financial incentive to get their help getting it out. They all dug in, diverted the stream, and success – got it out!! They also came across a small snake which was….exciting, and enough to keep the girls out of the water.

Thursday I spent most of the day helping Lisette and Martyn work on their house.  They are the ones that are here for 11 months, and are building a small house that they will live in during the rest of their stay.  The bottom half is build out of earth bags, and the top half out of wood.  I was helping out to fill some of the cracks so the wind didn’t blow in as much.

That evening we were joined by another Dutch couple who would be staying for the next two weeks.  And I think that’s about enough for this post!!

I will have to play catch up since I haven’t been able to post in a while. I spent my last couple of days in Barcelona exploring with my friend Joyce who flew in for the weekend. It’s funny – I planned to travel on my own, but have been really lucky to have friends who like to travel, and have met up with me along the way!

Joyce and I wandered around Friday night and found a couple of relaxed spots to have dinner and drinks close by. Saturday we had a full day planned, and started with the La Boqueria market for breakfast. There’s a ton of different stands there all focused on one thing or other – produce, meats, seafood, crepes, candy etc. You could easily lose yourself for an hour or more wandering and sampling (and we did).

With our bellies full, and armed with maps like proper tourists we headed off to see the Picasso Museum. Then like proper tourists we immediately got lost. No matter, we had a good time exploring and eventually made it just in time to wait in line for another hour.

From there we jumped in a taxi to rush to see some of Gaudi’s buildings before they closed for the day. I probably should be embarassed to admit it (but I will anyway) – I really didn’t know much about Gaudi other than he was a famous architect who designed several buildings around Barcelona I was told I had to check out. Like with the Alcazar in Seville – going in with no expectations meant I was completely taken by surprise. I was floored by how amazing and ahead of their time these buildings were! They looked like they could have been in some futuristic movie created now – not like something that would have been designed over a century ago. I’m fascinated by people who are able to come up with something totally original – and these would have been TOTALLY original and out of left field when he was working. I’ll have to add Gaudi to my growing list of things to learn more about. We started with the Park Güell which was just huge, and had several buildings, viewpoints, misc artworks etc. Apparently he was working on an opera of Hansel and Gretel while designing the two gatehouses at the front, and they look like they could have popped out of the set. It was also crawling with tourists, but still very cool.

From there we went to the Gaudi cathedral Sagrada Familia which Gaudi started to work on in 1883, and is still being finished. It’s crazy to think Gaudi died pretty early in its construction year (1926) – and it’s STILL a work in progress! It’s currently scheduled to be completed in 2026. At first it looked totally alien/sci fi to me, but apparently a lot of the elements are inspired by nature. Once I knew what to look for I could totally see that too! In the main area the columns are meant to be tree trunks leading up to the forest canopy like roof. There were also miscellaneous fruit/vegetable/wheat elements built in. The way the light streamed in and played off of everything, and amazing stained glass work was unreal. Definitely not like any church I had seen before. Can you tell I like was impressed?

That night we had a luxe girl’s night on the town. Had Sushi and
drinks at the W, and partied till late.

Which was fortunate, because the next day I left for my 26 hour
journey to South Africa involving bus, planes and taxi. My time so
far has been just a bit – um different? But amazing! More to come on that next time.