Marakesh to Seti Fatma

On Monday I get up and figure that I will just stay in the hostel and do another 2 hours of yoga as I have the last couple of days.
I have met a couple of German girls named Sophie and Carla. They are studying medicine in Germany.

I see them at breakfast today and so I go over and ask them what they are up today. They say that they are going to Imlil today to arrange to do some trekking. I asked if they would mind if I came along.

Now, my intention was to go into the Atlas mountains and do some trekking. This would be fantastic!

They say sure. I have to get my gear together pretty quick because they are leaving in the next 1/2 an hour.

No problem there. We hire a Petit Taxi to the other side of the medina 18D for us to the other end of the medina to hire a Grand Taxi. I now know where all the old Mercedes go to when they go to the bone yard. They go to Morocco. They are used here for taxi's. We get there and are asking about a Grand Taxi when we are approached by another couple named Shawn and Sally. They are from the UK. They are looking to go the same place and so we barter the taxi to take five of us for 250D. That breaks down to 50 each. Not bad. Now, it's important that you know that they usually have 7 people in the car. There are three in the front including the driver and there are 4 in the back. Now you can pay for the extra seat(s) which is always an option. We just barter hard.

The funny thing is that Sophie had bought a mirror that had to be brought along. She wanted to leave at the hostel and collect it when we got back but that couldn't be arranged as the hostel has had too many problems so they said no. Now she has to carry it with her, and she doesn't even know whether she can bring it on the plane as carry on. I hope so, because that would be a royal kick in the head, otherwise.

We are on our way and off to the mountains. I am very excited. YEEE HAAA!

I am a mountain woman. I love the mountains anywhere I go. So the many coloured mountains of the Atlas have my heart already. We have a sunny day. This is great.

I won't deny it, when I was first in Marakesh the mountains were more almost empty of snow. I know because I could see them from the hostel. Now, they are much more snow covered. I don't know what the reality of doing the hike I want. Toubkal or Seti Fatma.

I know I have problems with altitude, and that knowledge comes from my experience in China, doing Tiger Leaping Gorge.

Anyways, one step at at a time. We have to see what is doable then move forward.

We are stopped in the mountains because of construction. Now isn't that reminiscent of Canada? There we have only two seasons. Winter and construction...! Too funny.

They are shaving the mountain of shale and some pretty big pieces are coming down. Thank goodness for the guardrail or we would be seeing some of this up close. The mountains here are multi-coloured. They come in a sand colour a pink and a dun colour.

Some are individually each colour, and some are threaded with three colours. Pretty.

Very subsaharan. There is not a lot of evergreens here on the mountain. Broom grows here in abundance.

We get to our destination, Imlil.
It is a small Berber town.
We are approached by a guide. We get settled into a place the Shawn and Sally had recommended to them. It's not great, but we barter it down to 50D each for the night, with a hot shower. I head out and go to the guide post. They have one here, and the guides are official guides with certification. They are very helpful and give us some options to consider. You can hire a certified guide for about 400 Dirham per person a day and that includes everything.

We decide to get some lunch and discuss what we want to do for a trek. I need to know their abilities also, so that I can decide what to do and how much I'll have to guide them on what to expect.

We settle on a panoramic restaurant and order tagine. We discuss what we want to do and settle on Seti Fatma.

This takes 3 days and two nights. The elevation is roughly 500 metres the first day and then the killer day would be the second day. 900 meters in 5 km (ouch) and then 1400 down (ouch even more). The elevation of Seti Fatma is 1500 meters.

I have had altitude sickness and so I know what to expect. I explain to the others what they need to expect also. Nausea and headache are common symptoms. The other thing to consider is dehydration and that will be more difficult as you need to have access to bottled water or alternatively boiled water. Water is heavy to carry.

Those of you who have hiked with me know that the up isn't a problem for me. I start to winge when I am coming down. I hate coming down. 1400 meters will be agony. I have brought my brace. I don't have my sticks with me. That's okay, I haven't put on too much weight eating all the great food in Morocco I should be okay. :)

It is agreed then. We then are approached by another person who was working as an in between for an uncertified guide. Sophie and Carla barter really hard for meals all included. We end up at 600 D all included for each of us. This includes food, lodging and guide. Shawn and Sally want to think on it. He suggests he can get us a certified guide, but this person isn't as good as Mohammed. I say okay, then why isn't Mohammed certified? (Things that make you go hmmm).

We decide to do a small hike discuss it and then get back to this guy. We head off and I am assessing the strengths of the people I am with. They are younger and that will be helpful but none of them have done a hike like this. I have. I don't know how the guides treat the people that they take. Oh, well, everybody should know what they are getting into. I explain that this time of the year, never mind just about any time in the mountains, the weather comes in fast, hard and unpredictable. Prepare for the worst and if it comes out better then that's a well prepared trip - terrific.

I worry about the girls more than Sally and Shawn. At least they have some life experience behind them. I am the oldest in this group and I come with the most mountain experience, except for the guide.

We get back and it's agreed. We will agree to the price and situation. When we get back and meet this guy at the restaurant it is as if we didn't agree before. I'm not as trusting. I do know that they would not intentionally leave us in a really bad situation. Anyways, I am made out to be the bad person. It's because I'm not being a good berber woman. I KNOW I would not be a good Berber woman. A good Berber woman would just shut up and not ask questions. NOT likely.....

We start the bartering again. He wants more money up front. I'm not agreeing to that. I say if anything half now and half at the end. Period. He starts to get annoyed because he doesn't understand English that well and definitely not German. He is speaking in French because it is what he is fluent in with the foreigners. He states in French that he wouldn't basically screw us. I said that it is a two way street. Trust is between two people. In this situation it has to be both groups that have to trust. Finally the girls get him to agree to the conditions. We each pay 300 D now. Little does he know that each of us hasn't come with a lot of money so there is only so much we could pay him. This will leave enough for me to have about 100 D over. That is to get us back to Marrakesh. I know the girls have less than I do and tell them that they need to let me know what they need and when they need it.

We head back to the hotel and I grab another blanket. The girls have brought their own sleeping bags. I am not interested in carrying a sleeping bag. I did that the last trip and I don't want to do it again. I just go to another room and steal another blanket for me tonight. There is no one in the inn.

I figure out what I am taking and decide that I will take all my wool and a windproof. At least wool will keep you warm when it's wet. The girls don't have anything but cotton, fleece and then a windproof.
I take an extra wool sweater just in case I need to give it to them.

I get dates and some nuts and bring some sardines, cheese, bread and, of course, water.

We go to bed and darned if I didn't ask where the flippin' mosque was. I SWEAR the speaker for the mosque is beside our window. Holy cow. I think the whole room shook at 5 am. Well, I try to do some yoga in bed. Too cold to really do it elsewhere! The girls sleep through it. I only wish I could sleep like that.

We have agreed to meet at 9 am. We arrange for our kit to stored while we take only what we need. The girls are going to carry a full backpack and a small pack and switch up.

They have found some bread and eat a couple pieces. I order a couple of hard boiled eggs and some bread and get a liter of water. I drink and drink and drink. I know I'm going to need it.

I explain to the group the importance of water and dehydration.

We head off and it's obvious to me that the guide is going way too fast. I discuss this with Shawn and say that I will reserve my energy for tomorrow. Tomorrow is going to be flipping gruelling.
We get to the saddle and I'm Yee Haaing. We stop and have tea. I make my little snowmoroccan. We meet another young German couple, Claudius and Anna. They ask for a little direction and they head off in the general direction we are going. I say to Mohammed during the tea break that the clouds overlooking the valley look like snow. He agrees and says Inshallah.

We hang a bit have some of the snacks I and Shawn have brought. We head off downhill to the next town where we will be staying. It occurs to me that we could have hiked the road to this point. It's definitely doable to this point. We walk part of the road and then get further along to the Berber town where we will be staying tonight. We have picked up another couple Claudius and Anna.

We wander through the town and Shawn is being pestered by the kids to give them something. They want a pen (they collect them) or a bon bon or a dirham. He turns to get something out of his backpack and all hell breaks loose. There are two boys but in seconds the girls coming out of the school almost dive off the cliff to get to him. He has sesame covered nuts and they all don't want to be left out. Two boys scream by me and then the whole town knows that he has something. Sally calmly walks quickly by me.

I say to Sally, don't want to be around that, do you? She says nah. I turn around and Shawn is being mobbed. I laugh and say to Sally, I'll be surprised if they don't take his pants. It's too funny.

We come to the door of the place we are staying. Looks pretty dodgy. We walk in the door and the place is beautiful and up the stairs we go to the most amazing view. Beautiful. We sort out the rooms. Mohammed leaves us. We settle in and then we decide to do a little walk around the village. Really there is no where else to go but up. We now have both Claudius and Anna in our group. Claudius is hilarious! He knows about 50 different ways to use the word Fuck. He doesn't have a flawless command of the English language, but he certainly knows how to use this word. He has me rolling around on the floor, laughing. Anna is such a sweet young woman. They make such a wonderful pair.

We head back and now we are hungry. I go for a shower before it gets too cold for a Canadian to be in an unheated home. Nice hot shower. I wrap myself in my travel pashmena. Let me tell you that I am happy that I have it. It has a thousand uses and keeps me very warm with my wet hair.

Mohammed gets back and I ask him if we can have some food. Although both Sophie and Carla have told me they are hungry now say they aren't. I think, fine. Mohammed asks if I am hungry. I say yes. My blood sugar is very low.

Mohammed makes me an omellette and I dig in. No one else wants to eat....oh, well. I know dinner will be later. I get some Berber tea. Ah, now, I'm feeling better.

I sit around and take in the view. I think about tomorrow and that we will need all the energy we will need.

We have a 6 person tajine that night and it's fabulous! We head in to get warmer. They put a heater on to keep us warm while we are eating and we get quite warm while in the living area.

The traditional Moroccan home usually has a couch lining the one wall or both walls and they have cushions all around to make yourself comfortable. Some places use them to sleep on also.

We head to bed.

It's about 3 in the morning when the wind starts to blow. Its a humdinger. Just like the winds back home.

DEFINITELY NOT GOOD

The wind is so strong that sand it is coming through the window and landing on me. I try to go back to sleep but it's pretty noisy.

I get up and go to the bathroom before everyone else is up. I check the sky and the ice crystals are hitting me on the face. I don't think that this will be possible. I am disappointed, but at the same time, hopeful. I hope that the weather will change and head back to bed and more importantly warmth.

We meet at 6:30 for breakfast. I have already talked to Mohammed. I did tell the girls that I won't be going. I know that I won't be able to cope with the combination of cold and wind. I've nearly been blown off a couple of mountains at home and at least a helicopter would come look for me, but here it's kiss your arse goodbye. Seti Fatma will have to wait for another time.

There is two reasons I sacrificed. If I pushed on, which I might have been able to if I had the proper kit, they would have followed. I have more experience. The girls still wanted to go.
You could see it snowing in the pass.

I'm the only one with actual hiking boots.

I go to the kitchen and speak to Mohammed and tell him that they are not experienced. I am more experienced and will not go. I will find my way back to Imlil via townspeople and road. No problem for me. Mohammed says we will not go to the pass. There are a couple of different hikes we can do.

I tell the group. It's 9 am. We have past the time we can do the pass. (We needed at least 7 hours) So we get together to decide which hike we can do. We decide to stay in the valley. Safest place for us.

We head out in the next 15 minutes. We all buy some water and head out.

The wind is gusting and although everyone else thought they would be able to do 900m elevation? It was all they could do to stay on the trail and we were going at a slow grade down.

I teach them to curl into the mountain and grab a piece of rocky slope and become part of the landscape. The wind has to be at least 100 kms. Seriously. The wind is clearly too strong and would take them off the trail and...over the side. This goes on for 2.5 hours and at one stage I have one of my sandals that I had attached to the outside of my small bag get snatched by the wind and go cartwheeling down the mountain. Now, what to do with the other sandal. Any ideas?

Extremely exposed all along the way.

It really is lovely landscape. We get to Amround at about 5 pm. We are at Mohammed's house. We get the rooms sorted and I ask if I can take a shower.

Now I get all my clothes off and am in the bathroom waiting for the hot water to start, (you know turn on the tap and wait for the hot water to start before getting wet) and I decide that it isn't going to start. It's kinda hard to stand stark naked and then realize you don't have hot water, especially when it's cold. I wrap myself up with my pashmina and go to the window and ask Mohammed - hot or cold shower? He says, just a minute. I get my hot shower.

It's colder tonight. There is no heater when we have dinner. But once we've eaten all is better. We will go for a short hike the next morning and then we head back to Marrakesh.

The girls are having fun trying to sell me to Mohammed. He says I can marry his father. Too funny. He hears my story of FES.

My saying now is "No man, no problem" One man - problem" LOL.

Next day we go for a short hike to the Devil's pass and then head back to Mohammed's house where we pack and head back to Imlil.

We head back to Marrakesh and I'm splurging at a Riad there, where it is nice and quiet and my dream come true - a washing machine! This is where you know it's the small things that make a difference.

Marrakesh is wonderfully warm at 28C and sunshine. Ahhhhhhh.....and I'll miss the great food. I found some sweet yogurt with warm chocolate croissants the day before I leave......

I will stay close to the train station the night before I head home so I can get the train at 5 am to Casablanca and then straight to the airport..... and two days back home....

I'll be looking forward to sleeping in my own bed.

Morocco - Marzouga and Fes

I love Marzouga. The haunting desert. Lawrence, oh Lawrence where the heck are youuuuuu??? I guess I have to trek to Arabia on a camel to find him.

I leave Marzouga at 7 at night on the Superbus. Now I wouldn't call it a Super anything. We load onto the bus and there is an unstable man on the bus. (I'm being quite kind here) and he seems to want to sit near us. I keep moving. I don't need this type of experience - not on an overnight bus. I put my earplugs in and my eyeshades (best purchase I made on this trip) and try to sleep. Now, I awake at one stop because I'm cold and come to the realization that I might have been sleeping with my mouth open....hope I wasn't making sucking noises during my sleep. How embarrasing. Oh, I suppose the fact that I might not ever see these people again, reassures me.

I fall asleep again and then wake up in Fez at 5am. I sleepily stagger out of the bus and retrieve my backpack. Damn this is heavy, I mumble to myself. Fez is under a deep fog. It is a damp cold. Didn't I tell you us Prairie girls don't do the damp well? I walk into the Railway station and settle down. I will wait for the rest of the city to wake up before I race off to find a place to sleep. I am flipping a coin to see whether I will get a place in the Auberge or whether I should go to the medina? HMMMM?

At about 8 am I am starting to get hungry and want something substantial. I get kitted out and walk, oh, I think - that way. What difference will it make? I just head off in the direction I think will be the right one.

Now my first thought is the Auberge and I was told that it was booked up. The weekends seem to be a time that fill up with Moroccans doing their own travelling. Oh, well, I just head off and have breakfast somewhere. I have cooked eggs and bread and tea. I finally try to communicate after breakfast and that doesn't get anywhere.

I have to change my perspective. Most young moroccans don't travel and so would not know where a auberge or inn is in their town. So why am I surprised? I start to walk and decide to enter a car rental agency. Don't ask me why. There is a older man in who owns the company who takes me to the HI hostel, in his words, just a quick 5 minute walk. Okay, quick when you aren't hauling a 20 kg backpack and front pack. I get to the auberge and thank him profusely. I know that it is full. But phone anyways and the guy on duty comes out to speak to me. I ask if he knows another place. He does.

I end up at a place that is less than desirable for me. I check in and then head to the medina. I already have a young man in tow. No thanks. I tell him that I want to go to the medina. That gets rid of him and I head down the street. I come to a bus stop. Now, there's an idea. I ask the men standing there. Medina? I point to the bus stop sign that has all the bus numbers on it. They reply yes. I wait. They wait. They wave me onto the bus and away we go. I'm at the medina in about 5 minutes. I head in.

Now I find the medina's very intimidating because I totally lose my sense of direction in them. You can't even find a landmark and keep it in sight. So I venture very cautiously. Up and then back and then up another route and then back. I get some attention, as there are young touts trying to get you into their place of business or to a restaurant. I opt for something cool, it's like a tapioca drink. Then after about an hour and a half (I'm not a great shopper by any means) I decide to head back to the hotel. I get in and then want to get something to eat.

Food: I love the food here. Tajine of any kind with almost any type of ingredients. Couscous with any type of meat. Croissants with chocolate...who couldn't feel they are in heaven in the morning??? Cafe au lait, or tea du menthe... or fresh orange juice anytime? I have to say that I haven't had the opportunity to duplicate the lovely warm croissants that Firas would get at the bakery around the corner from his place and we would have mint tea, FRESH orange juice and eat freshly baked croissants...mmmmmmm!!! But this comes a close second!

I finally come back from the medina and I have a text from my young German friend Jan. He is telling me he is in Rabat and that if I want I can contact a guy he met on the train. His name is Ali. I figure, why not.

I thank Jan, and then wish him a safe journey onwards. I text Ali, and I get an almost instant response. I ask him if he could direct me to a proper hotel. I'm definitely not liking the one I'm in. He does. The Al Fath hotel. I know it, as I've walked by it several times. He asks if he can meet me. It's 8 pm, I say okay. He comes to my hotel...the Volubis.

We go right next door to talk a bit. He says that he is working, but he will pick me up after work tomorrow at 1345 and we can go take a tour of the city. I say okay.

Seems harmless enough.... (okay do you hear the music??? you know the music you hear in horror films?) (not that bad, but close....)

I get myself moved into the new/old hotel and then have something to eat. I then meet up with Ali. He is in his 50's by my estimate. Now the conversation turns after we have toured the medina and we sit to have some tea (berber whiskey) and he starts to use me as his psychotherapist. ME! LOL. Anyways there appears to be way more information that he feels that I should be part of. I just uh huh my way through most of the conversation and just zone out.

We agree to meet the next day. I say just for coffee. He texts me and asks if I want to go to a hot springs.

Now I haven't told you that it has been freezing cold. Yeah, I know ya'll are feeling REALLY sorry for me....naught. But there is no heat here. It's like being in a tomb. You can't even go to the internet cafe's to warm up. Now what did Ali say? He said that if he found a warm heart he could live anywhere...in Canada. HUH? Where did that come from? Definitely not in my warm heart.

So we head to the hot springs. Now here they are segregated. So off I go to the women's side and I honestly have never in all my life seen so many naked women. Now the harems do come to mind. It was just a lot of women and a well, honestly can I say this without sounding wrong...breasts! Holy, Holy cow! There is hardly any room anywhere. The nice thing is that for some odd reason I am immediately identified as the foreigner. (Could be that I'm the white one here) One women with a small boy latches onto me and takes care of me while I am there. She scrubs me...yes, that is very common and not unusual. She and a few other girls just take me under their wing. I am enjoyng myself in a very self conscious way. It's very community oriented. I leave with the woman and her son, and Ali is there also, of course. We head to a place to shower. Yes, now a different shower. Not a hammam, and it's nice and warm and it allows me to get the sulfer off my skin.

However, I am wet and it is getting quite cold outside. Now heating here, remember? We head off to a cafe, which Ali says is heated. It's not. I tell him that I am chilled and after having tea, we leave. He is romancing me. I get the feeling the men here are quite used to that, only I'm not leading him on. I tell him I just want to be friends. It's like he is deaf.

The next day Ali has planned that we will go to Ifrane. Okay. We meet the next morning. We head out and the weather is wet. I thought I was prepared. We are going to see some monkeys that are in the mountains. I look over at the clouds and say "If that was Calgary, I would say that those clouds are snow." We continue and as we head into the Atlas...it starts to snow. We get to where the monkeys are and there is 4 inches of wet snow. I can see the monkey tracks but they won't come out for me, as there are some wild dogs and they are hanging around. I am invited into a Berber hut to buy something. I am not a great shopper by any means, but I don't like the fact that Ali keeps almost instisting that I buy something. I won't buy something unless I really like it. And that didn't happen on this day. So back to the car we go. Now, the snow is pretty consistent.

Of course we have to have some food. How about a tajine? Of course! We stop at a place that Ali knows which is way overpriced. My spidey sense is starting to tingle....

We get back into car and the snow is accumulating fast. Now it becomes quite clear that Ali hasn't driven in the snow before. so here I am teaching him how to drive in the snow. Okay, I say leave lots of room between vehicles. Ah, that would mean approximately one meter as opposed to the usual 3 cms. I tell him lots of room, and remember to breathe. He is literally white knuckling it and I'm kinda...well, laughing! Yee Haa! Anyways after sliding a bit and me telling him that he doesn't have winter tires on and that might make him stopping a problem. He is really is having a tough time getting the hang of it. Finally we get over the pass and move into wetter weather...and to Ali's relief.

We head to his cottage, a flat he has in Ifrane that he has rented to a friend who is from France. He says that he would like me to pay him before we meet his friend. I pull out my money and then we head inside to his cold flat. The French guy is already half cut when we get there and because he isn't ready we wait and wait. Ali and he converse in French which I can pick up when I really listen.

I then understand why Ali is bringing us all together. A German, Jan, to keep his German sharp, me a Canadian, to keep his English sharp and Francios to keep his French sharp. I call him on it. And he is surprised that I've figured it out.

I'm getting rusty, in my old age. I've obviously been out of the game for a while....I don't know if I even want to GET in the game. Too much energy for nothing!

Now I see the exchange of money between both him and Francios and I figure he's doing okay with all of us. I'm still not quite seeing the light. But when we head back to the hotel with Francios in tow and I am dropped off at the hotel, I should really listen to my spidey sense. I have a very good one.

We agree to meet the next day and we go to Volubis and Meknes. Ali's overtures to me are making me quite uncomfortable. I tell him I'm not interested in a man that wants it all and won't risk anything. He is living at home, although he says he is separated from his wife. He has three girls. He wants to find a woman and then will get the divorce.
I tell him that that doesn't work for me. I am not interested in him. He then tries to hold my hand.

I am exhausted from this attitude. I get dropped off somewhere downtown after paying him for the gas again....you know we have to talk business. Was this before or after the marriage proposal. Ah, it's too intense for me. I leave him and walk around for a bit to clear my mind. Yeah, it's clear that I'm leaving in the morning. I am walking back to the hotel when I am accosted by the OTHER Ali. He grabs my hand and won't let go. I tell him I have to go to the bathroom. He won't let go. I have to wrench my hand away. Flip. Up to the hotel I go and then when I think the coast is clearI head to the internet cafe. Doesn't he find me there. I then just smile and continue typing. He leaves. Thank goodness. I finish and I head back to the hotel when I see him talking to a friend. I smile and pass him. I almost get into the hotel. He yells at me. When he gets to the hotel he says "Why didn't you buy anything from my friend."

What the hell???????

I look at him and say "Because I didn't want to."

I turn and walk into the hotel. I go up to my room and look at the train schedule.

I'll be leaving for Marrakesh on the 7 am train.......

Morocco

Well, I made it to my last destination in this trip!

I was staging in Sousse and then took the train to Tunis, arriving in enough time to grab a taxi. Interesting that it is much more civilized leaving with a taxi than arriving. I had checked my flight well in advance and found that my flight had changed from 1300 hours to 1700 hours...not as I had so carefully planned. I do not like to get into a town late at night. As I was at the airport waiting to board the flight an announcement came over the intercom. Who is kidding who? Of course I did not understand it, but it caused a bit of concern with the rest of the people so I could figure something was up.

Thank goodness I had traded a good book.
The flight was further delayed, of course.
I asked at the desk, and the woman, in her halting English said the plane had not arrived.

Now, you need to know that while I was staging to go to Egypt I made a note to myself; and that would be 'do not book flights to Africa in advance'.
I muttered this to myself again....

When the plane came in almost the entire waiting area stood up and watched the unloading of the plane. No pressure. I just kept reading. Little did I realize that most of these people were refugees from Morocco, who had come from Libya. They were in a rush to get home.

The announcement comes to board the plane. Holy cow! I have never seen a line form in 3 seconds flat. I got up and thought, is there anyone that is not going to get on the plane? I sat down again. Let them get on first, I will get on later. I get on and find that my seat is occupied by a man in animated conversation with two women. I show him my boarding pass, and he explains to the women he must go. I motion to see his boarding pass and he shows it to me. I wave him back to my old seat and sit in his.

I read my book and try to organize my various plans in my head. The flight puts me in Casablanca at 2100. Not good. Oh well, just let go and see what happens. Really what else can I do? So when I get off the flight and go through customs - no visa required, I am looking at 2200 hours looming. Firas told me to grab a train to Marrakesh and that they leave every 2 hours. However that is clearly not the case. I am told the next train is at 0450 hours. It is the buses that go every two hours. Yikes. I sit for a while and decide whether I want to get into Marrakesh at 2 am or wait and go later arriving Marrakesh in daylight.

Daylight it is. This is a decision that I might regret.

I buy a ticket into from the airport on the train that takes you to Place Voyegeur. This is the Central Rail Station. The fact that my French sucks is not lost on me either. However it is also not lost on me that raising your voice does not make you more understandable either! So I just chill and have to be patient even though the information people will help others in what appears to me to be an attempt to get rid of me and save them from the obvious lack of English they have. I remember clearly that I am in their country. I smile and try again with my English/French dictonary that does not appear to have the words I need. Some how we both muddle through. Bon jour.

I buy a ticket into Casa on the next train 2400 hours. I will regret not staying in the airport.

I board the train and there is no heat. Okay, there are screaming kids instead. Why are they not sleeping? That is good - go ahead and give them chocolate - that should settle them down. I try breathing through this...that sort of helps. Not really.

I am tired. No kidding!

I get off at Place du Voyegeur and there are only a few people in the train station. I go over and buy my ticket to Marrakesh. 90D. I settle myself down in what I judge to be the safest, warmest seat in the train station. Next to another woman. Well the train station is not heated, and I was wondering why people were carrying blankets. It became clear pretty fast. It was flipping cold. Tomb-like if you must know. But little did I know that the mid night entertainment was on the way!

At about 0100 hours a young man comes in and starts to engage people on where they should put their luggage. This would be the night cleaner. His responsibility was to get rid of the garbage on the floor and then wash and dry the floor. He takes out a bucket of water and cups it out of the bucket all over the grand floor. He has everyone's attention. Anyone getting up and walking through his artwork was berated.

Actually quite entertaining. Everyone at rapt attention. He was a rude boar. He then gets the squeegy out and if you can imagine a tennis match and the heads going back and forth, you have the idea. I was having more fun watching them watching him, than anything else. Move your feet, I have to get under them. I fall into a semi sleep. I wake up again due to his antics.

It was when he opened the doors directly in front of me that I started freezing. Did I relent and put my sweater on? Nope. Anyways, he then disappears and I go over and shut the doors, he comes over and berates me. I give him a little what for... you know- mid night entertainment? He goes over and opens them again. The blankets have long ago come out and I've pulled out of my backpack my camel wrap. A man decides he needs to sit on the other side of me and then he stikes up a conversation. He speaks a little English and I learn that apparently he is a professer of Geography. He asks me about Montreal...it would seem that in both Tunisia and now in Morocco, they know where Montreal is, but nowhere else. I sigh. I patiently go into my little diatribe about Calgary to no avail. I am tired. I put the camel wrap around my head and try to doze off. I manage this for at least five seconds when the guy next to the lady beside me tries to do something that sets her off. I can't understand, but this goes on for 20 mintues.

No rest for the wicked, I guess. But when have I been wicked?

The man must know that I've dozed off, because he wakes me up to tell me that I should be ready to get on the train. I have set my alarm. Flip. I am not amused. I tell him that my train leaves in another hour and a half! I am annoyed. I wrap wrap myself up again and try again to doze off. I must have because both the lady and this man tell me the train is coming.

Now, in my experience with the trains is that they come into the station and they stay for at least 10 minutes before they depart. Where the heck is the fire? I get my backpack on and then I'm waiting on for the train to pull in for another five minutes.

I get on the train and settle myself in the first little cabin. Hmmm, seems a little cold. Maybe the heat will come on in a little while, when the train starts off - Naught!
I am in a foul mood now. No heat on the train? Flipping hell. BTW, if you thought this was the Marrakesh Express, it isn't, wasn't and never was.

It wasn't until I had to go to the bathroom that I decided to explore the train. Did I ever feel stupid about finding the place everyone was sleeping...IN THE WARM CABIN!!!

I could not grab my backpack fast enough and get into the warm cabin. I ended up getting jammed between the doors like a turtle overturned. I found a seat and took my popsicle toes out of my boots. I tenderly tried to thaw them out, all the while muttering to myself.

I arrive in Marrakesh at 8 am. Nice sunrise. I really love the landscape and the houses.
I get off of the train and now the fun begins.

I look for a map, and although they have an information centre there is no real help there. And no maps.

I opt for going to the REAL information centre and am sent on my way.

Note to self - Any information centres in any of these countries have been established just as a front for tourists. You have to pull eye teeth out of the people who work in them, because they surely are not welcoming nor ambassadors.

It takes me an 1.5 hours to get there and again I'm left muttering to myself.

I decide to find some accommodation. Off I go to 'Place Jemaa El Fna'.

Google this place.

I was in love immediately.

Initially I was supposed to stay with a guy that I had arranged to stay with. However you get wise on who is serious and who is just using the website as a dating site. I figured I would just chill at a nice place for a couple of days and figure out what I want to do.

I checked out a couple of places, but they seemed too brothel-like - so I kept on looking and settled on a old room at the back of a hotel that fronts the El Fnaa. The CMT Hotel. It turned out to be a good choice. I walked around for a while had a bite to eat and then headed back to relax and have a hot shower. I came out to sit in the sun, like a cat. I grabbed my book and no sooner did I read a page I was dozing off. I went in for a nap.

I woke at 6 pm and went out the front door to be confronted by an almost complete transformation of the El Fnaa. Food everywhere. I knew I was in heaven. It was a riot of food. Food everywhere. My mouth is watering. Where to start?

Ahhh, where should I start? I had been looking for a poissant soup, but could not find one except in Djerba. There were several establishments here that were offering it. I sat down to a wonderful bowl of soup 3D. I then wandered around to find that they also had tajine with fish, 10D. I decided to have one of those too! Yummmm. . I meet a woman from Seattle and we chat a bit. I am looking for a tea. I end up amused by some young German men who are being targetted for money. I tell them they have to learn the look.

I've told you about the look, haven't I?

Okay, it's the look you have when bored beyond tears, just a blank stare. No interest in your eyes at all. You don't make eye contact and you make a quick snap of your head indicating no. Nothing is said. If you say anything they will try to engage you in your language and then you are targetted down the line of vendors. I find sunglasses useful also.

I find my tea, but don't really know what they are serving...it looks like tea. It is cardomom tea. Interesting.

I do some bargaining for some items with the women selling their wares.

I head back to my room. I go the the front desk and ask for an extra blanket. That raises the ire of one of the guys in behind the desk. I say to the younger one that I am sleeping alone tonight, that is the reason for the blanket. That raises some eyebrows, but they get the message. I get my extra blanket with a smile. Little do they know that I've been sleeping alone all the time. How unfrench of me!

I have visited the Royal Palace and that was not worth the effort. I was strictly forbidden from taking photos.

I found a cheap internet place outside the Palace where I have started to master the art of the French keyboard; and am spending too much time catching up on my keyboarding.

I meet up with a young German named Jan and we check out some of the wonderful mosques in the Medina. Now Jemm El Fnaa is huge. It has something for everyone. But it is a labyrinth of streets. The kids make sport of getting you all turned around. I suppose I would have done the same at their age if I had nothing better to do. Ha! But Jan has a GPS, not really fair, but it works and it gets us to where we are going.

The next day we decide to go to Essouira.

Essouira is beautiful. After a 4 hour bus ride down there, we arrive at 12 noon. It is sunny, warm and bright. We find the Riad that his friends are staying at and settle in. I wasn't too impressed with the Riad, as it was very dark. So I was going to opt for another when the very smart proprietor shows me a brighter room. He said that he just wanted to see me smile. Smart guy.

Jan's friends are people he met while taking a tour into the desert on a camel. They are three women from Italy and one guy who is from the UK but who is also from Italy. We go to the sea side and there is fresh fish and seafood. OMG!!

We absolutely gorge ourselves on fish and seafood until we can't eat anymore. This is a place that I could retire. Seriously. Fresh catch of the day comes in and you are eating it for lunch. The beach is nice. And the winds are brisk. Lovely. The sun is shining and the temperature is perfect. Warm.

We then head out and explore the small town and Paula, Giulia and Martine and Andrew want to buy stuff because they are heading home in a couple of days. My backpack is too heavy and I want to stuff it full before I get home, but not yet.

We stroll around the seaside looking at all that Essouira has to offer. No craziness here. Actually the people are very laid back. I'm liking this.

I decide that I have to go back to Marrakesh in order to go into the desert. I had thought that going south would get me there, but that is not so. I need to go back to Marrakesh to head to Marzouga near the Algerian border. I figure that if I take a bus there I can probably get this for a cheaper price. So back to Marrakesh the next day. Jan and I travel together and say goodbye as he is heading to Rabat and I am not going there yet.

I stay at the Auberge in Marrakesh and am in a dorm by myself again. No problem. I found out the bus to Marzouga leaves at 830 am and so I set my alarm to get there on time.

It is a 12 hour bus journey to Marzouga. Yikes. I meet some Japanese guys on the bus and they have a place booked. I tag along. They have already reserved to go into the desert and since I don't have anything formally planned this is a good start. We get to the Wilderness Lodge at 9 pm and I'm pretty well cooked. We have something to eat and into a dorm I go. By myself again. No problem. The place is really cool, because the walls are of straw and mud. Really dampens the sound attenuation, and has a really cool look. We have a light dinner and head to bed.
The next day the Japanese women who owns the place speaks French, but not too good English talks to me about going into the desert. I say that I want to stay overnight if that is possible. She says it is.

I go that night at 4 pm on a camel named Hameel and a guide named Ibrahim into the desert by myself. I feel like some explorer from the past. Just me and my guide. The desert is hauntingly beautiful. It is the colour of adobe. We travel about 2 hours when we stop at a village and I have my own little berber tent to sleep in. Ibrahim shows me the well that has the water. They sink a 10 gallon plastic barrel into the sand with the top just above the top. When they open the top there is water. Amazing. It's all about condensation. Brilliant. Ibrahim makes me what they call Berber whiskey which is Berber tea or mint tea. It is everywhere and has IMHO just the right amount of sugar....lots. Ibrahim also makes me a tajine. A man after my heart.... or at the very least my stomach. The stars were not out and I warned Ibrahim that it might rain. Yes, it did! Too funny. I walked up and down the dunes the next morning and took many pictures. It was a very special and quiet time. I absolutely loved it. The next day back on the camel and back to the hostel.

I stay an extra day and then decide that I could go to Fez or to the Imilil. I ask one of the guys at the store what he thinks would be wise. Now, honestly I wanted to do some hiking, but this is winter here and I know there is snow in them there hills. So when I ask him, he says that there will be few people there at this time of year, and that he doesn't believe it would be safe for me on my own. :((

So off to Fez it is. I get myself ready and then go out to the oasis and walk around this amazing oasis that the community has there with onions and it looks like wheat or barley and peas. Now, I should get some of those peas. How do they grow in the heat? Ours don't like it. Hmmmm. They have date palms also. No coconut palms here, not enough water.

Tunisia

I am now in Tunisia and things are not as settled as in Egypt.

One I am typing away on a French keyboard which is making me crazy...let the French deal with that one!

Plus it is cold here. I know that you are all crying for me, but it is cold. Most of the people homes I stay in, and hotels do not have heating.

I have been staying with several people. One couple Trish and Russ who took are teaching English here in Tunisia. They got me from, the airport and thank goodness! The taxi drivers were Fou - crazy. Yes that is one word I have picked up quickly here. Trish let me do some laundry. Now there is a luxury! I am not a great handwasher but it is nice to have a break!

Trish and Russ were evacuated and brought back from the UK; They had purposefully picked their condo in a neighborhood that they felt was safe. What they did not bargain on was this neighborhood housed many of Ben Ali's family...unbeknownst to them. So at the time of the riots the rioters were very selective which houses they burned and trashed; but again they were not aware of this. So one day they decide because they have a day off to go walking by the water.
Why not we would do the same on our day off?

They were approached by some youths who told them not to go down the road that would lead them home. They told the young men that that was where they lived. They just shrugged and went in the opposite direction. Russ and Trish continued home and as they approached the mass of people and demonstrators, the masses were more and more. They were able to get into their home and barracade themselves in. I suppose for them it seemed as if the world had gone mad. They stayed in contact with their friends and the embassy, but the embassy took several days to organize flights out of Tunisia. They went sleepless for over 60 hours. This is when the houses were being burned just in the next block. They had no idea that the houses burned were extremely selected.

In fact,the demonstrators got the wrong house of one of politians and I think it was the German ambassador they broke into and took all the furniture. When they realized they had the wrong house they brought it all back, putting it all in place and apologized profusely.

Trish and Russ were evacuated. I did not know this but when you are evacuated you have to buy a ticket on the plane departing. And you have to make sure that you have cash to BUY a seat, not at discounted rates either, these flights will not undercut the other airlines.

Trish and Russ were subseauently were told that it was okay to return by their embassy and so they did.

I was not in Tunisia when this happened, but while visiting Trish and Russ and having a nice warm comfortable bed to sleep in where the matress was kinder to the body and I did not feel like I had been shot in the hip, we decided to get out in the deluge of rain I seemed to have brought to Tunis.

Russ and Trish said that they have never seen such a deluge. Well, look on the bright side, you do not have to shovel it, eh? Anyways we decided to take a look at the wreckage of the homes. Holy cow! The rage was apparent. There was nothing left usable in the house. Marble floors smashed to smithereens. The furniture burned and cars burned or if they were valuable stolen. Anything not nailed down or valuable was taken.
The graffiti explained it all in three languages. Wolf...pretty much sums it up.

Russ and Trish exchange some cash for me...won't get that good of exchange anywhere in Tunisia at a bank I'm sure!

I've finally figured out the keyboard. Who knew you could simply change the language to the keyboard...ah, I did, but forgot! Duh.

We headed back home and had a nice curry which Russ made. Yumm. I settled in and tomorrow I will take a taxi to the train station (Le Gar) and head south to Sousse and hopefully better weather. I have contacted through Russ and Trish a guy who is willing to host me and his name is Firas.

The next day between rain storms I head out and grab a taxi on the near deserted street and people are looking at me. I am decked out in full backpack mode. Backpack on the back and on the front. What a sight I must be? And why would I be in Tunisia now?

Anyways I finally flag a taxi down and in my most abysmal french I ask for Le Gar. Little did I know there are two and he is so pleasant and I have to actually act out a train. C'mon folks you know how to do this: Choo Choo! LOL. You do have to have fun.

I get to the train station on time and grab the next train heading to Sousse. It is only a couple of hours and I'm there. I check my bag and will meet Firas later. As I am leaving the station there is a demonstration right outside the station. I just wait inside until it disperses. I look around the train station to see what is there and notice that the internet cafe was trashed and burned. Guess I can't use that internet...

I head outside and walk a bit around but not too far as not to keep where the train station is in my locator in my head. I find a bank and exchange some more cash. I wander around a bit and come back to meet Faris at 5 pm.

Firas has a big smile for me when we meet and he is very friendly. We talk and talk and talk. We have an amazing amount of things in common. He gives me a quick tour around the medina and then we head to his place. He is a single guy and has this humoungous flat. Three bedrooms! The ceilings have to be 15 feet high. Lovely, really. He is next to the harbor and so you can see the sea from where he lives. He shows me my bed and I drop my backpack and then we decide to go out and grab a quick bite to eat. We grab something, and I he asks if I want to take a walk. He is shivering. It is his winter. I tell him no, we can leave that for another warmer day, as he is shivering. We go back to his place and talk and talk and talk.

He works for the Port Authority in Sousse and so his background and mine aren't all that different. As the time transpires we realize the common thread in our lives. Amazing really. He wants to do more travelling and he also wants to further his education. He is currently trying to get a scholarship in Sweden. I can see him there. He also said that there is a possibilty that he will go to Halifax. I told him the winters are kinder in Vancouver.

I decide to go to El Jem on the train the next day. Firas said that it is dead simple. It is. I am the only one in El Jem when I get there. It is kinda weird. I sit in the sun and imagine what it would have been like to be here in the day. The people are kind. I see that they are doing something in the center of the arena and take a stroll down. I speak to one of the men and it turns out he is an archiologist. He tells me I can come down. I do. It is where they housed the gladiators and the animals that the gladiators fought. There is a part where Gladiator was filmed done in this section of El Jem. Actually he shows me which cell Russell Crowe was in during the filming. I have about an hour to myself to visit when a whole seven other tourists show up.

I go back to Sousse and then take the Metro (sort of like the LRT) to another town and by the time I get home I'm tired. All this travelling can take a toll on you. Walking and working out bus and train schedules and locations of bus and train stations is tiring. (LOL). I return and because Firas is working we have arranged to meet at a certain time. But I have this niggling feeling that because of the slight language barrier there might be a problem. I shake it off. I will regret this. I go for a walk and try to locate a internet cafe. It is not easy to do here. There are not many. I ask and ask and although they point me here and there I cannot find one.

I go back to his building at 7 pm and he isn't there. Now I have to find a Publiphone. They seem to be everywhere, but now there is a problem, because everyone has shut down for the night. I stand on the corner and suddenly I am certain that the same guy keeps circling the block. Now, this makes me uneasy. It is a time of unrest in Tunisia. I decide I have to keep moving. I take off. I circle and circle and keep seeing the same guy. I keep thinking where is Firas. I also keep looking for a phone that I might use. Nothing. Finally, as close to 45 minutes goes by, I hear Firas call out my name. RELIEF!

The next day Firas has off, as he works 24 hours on and 48 off. Bugger of a shift!

Today he takes me out to visit a place that he goes regularly to and then he takes me to a cafe that is located on the 6th floor of a building. When you get up here from floor to ceiling windows and the ocean as far as you can see. Spectacular. We talk and talk and talk. And then I tell him that men in his country talk a lot. He asked me if that was good, bad or just an observation. I told him just an observation. But it is true. I notice that the men talk a lot in the Arab nations.

I decide to head south the next day.

I need to remember that I will be on my own and much more of a possible target as there has been a lot of looting and general unrest. I've just been protected because I've been staying with people. I was thinking of going to Tatouinne. I have not heard from my contact and that worries me, as it seems that there is more unrest in the south. Faris does not suggest I go to Tatouine.

Not to mention the fact that there are the Libyian refugees also.

Next day I decide at the last minute to head to Djerba. It turns out to be a good choice. I find the Auberge where I am the only person in my particular room. I meet a French man named Noel who must be 75 years old and I say that I will teach him English if he teaches me French. He really wants to work on his English so I tell him to meet me for breakfast and we will work on his English and my French.

So for the next couple of days I stay in Djerba with dear Noel who wants to now have me come and stay at one of this two homes near Cannes for the summer where I can teach his 16 year old son English and I can live the life of a queen. Sunny Cannes? Heck I would feel like a movie star. He has a a very young wife of 37, so nothing like that. Options, ah that sounds so international, doesn't it? The weather is good but when the clouds come out it is cool. We see the same sights and eat the local food which is fish! Yumm. I am enjoying being here.

I see a lot of refugees in Djerba. They are being bused in from Libya and flown out of Djerba. The planes leave at times one after the other. We speak to some Chinese guys who were working in Libya doing translation work. They feel lucky because along with the Chinese, the Thais were being bused out. The Phillapino's were not the lucky. Their government hasn't stepped up to the plate.

The Auberge is funny. The guys running the place have the TV for themselves only and they keep turning it up as the night goes on. It is obnoxious. Noel has to tell them to turn it down every night. The last night I was there Noel came out and shouted down to them. The thing got shut off pretty fast.
I asked for a hot shower the next day and wouldn't you know it, I couldn't have one until the next day. Huh? I took a cold one anyway...not my favorite thing to do. (No kidding).

I then after checking my flight information thought it would be a good idea if I head back to Sousse for a couple of days and then take the train into Tunis. My flight has changed so that I arrive late into Casablanca. Something that I had hoped to avoid. That is the reason I booked it so that I could get into Casa during daylight.

I chill the next couple of days in Sousse with Firas and then catch the train into Tunis and get to the airport. The flight was further delayed and I didn't get into Casablanca until 2130 hours. Many refugees on the plane.

I really liked Tunisia, and do hope to come again.

The National Museum Cairo

Today is my last full day in Cairo. I get up and I am discussing some things with another backpacker, who is a writer/journalist/photographer. He is here from Hungary. There appears to be a few misplaced people here.

I'm just one of many! It's good to have company.

I discuss going over to the museum and seeing if the army will let a lonely old tourist in to see the museum. I'm warned against it. The army is still surrounding the museum.

I just don't care. I go out get some breakfast and come back eat it and then set off to the museum. I am walking by and ....I see people in the court yard!

Yipee!

My heart starts to beat faster. I get to the end of the block and the military is posted there. They give me the sign to show them my passport. This is where they karate chop their forearm. I say sure. I pull out my passport. He asks why I am here. I tell him that I leave tomorrow so I want to see the museum before I go. He lets me in.

I'm so excited. Like a little kid. I am clapping my hands. I pay for my ticket and am stopped and told to check my camera. I'm upset, but I do it. Then while I'm in the museum as in other museums they say no pictures but everyone with a cell phone is taking pictures. I'm slightly upset by this. Oh, well. I am welcomed by many and asked my name. The arabs have trouble pronouncing my name. About as much trouble as I have pronouncing theirs.

I am checking things out and it's a mighty big museum. I am approached by a correspondent for Reuters. Now, some would say that Calgary still has a small town mentality. Well, here is a city of 20 million and somehow they make you feel like you are in Calgary.

She asks me where I'm from and why I came to Cairo. Now, I get to tell my story to another person. I tell her I'm so excited to be in the museum as I leave tomorrow. She says where are you going? I tell her Tunis. She stops and looks at me. So, of course, I have to tell her the whole story. She tells me that she was arrested and charged with high treason, during the revolution. I have a whole swath of stories to share when I get back. The people here have handled it with an amazing amount of aplomb. They have organized the militia and have civilians directing traffic on the street and it's hilarious but effective.

You see because the people turned on the police at the time of the revolution the police stations were all burned. Not to the ground, they are all made of cement. But there are no police here. Just traffic police, and they are sporatic at best or sleeping. Then there is the military and everyone seems to have someone in the military so the military wasn't going to shoot on their own families. On the day of celebration, they were outside having pictures taken with everyone. The people at the time time of the revolution came down to the front of their homes/businesses with machetes and clubs and stood outside and made sure there was no looting done. They stoically stood fast. They made sure there was not damage done, because they knew that they would have to replace it and since Mubarak left with all the money, where were they going to get the funds. You really have to hand it to the people here for the fortitude to see this through and the ability to organize themselves in a day to oversee the security of their city.

My friend Susan said that her father leaves something untouched - not looked at in every country so that he has an opportunity to revisit that country. Well, that is what I must do with Egypt. The people are lovely.

Cairo has an energy you just can't define. I do like it here. I don't think I could stay for a long time, but I certainly could stay longer. Since the revolution I'm told that the Egyptians are more proud, that they are taking care of cleaning the sidewalks and there is a pride of ownership here, that didn't exist before. I certainly hope that it can sustain them. They have some bumps in the road to weather, and if they weather it with the type of solidarity I've seen to date they should have no problem.

I do hope to return sometime to maybe dive the Red Sea from here and see the history in Thebes and Luxor.

Onward to Tunis....

Giza and the Freedom Celebration Feb 18, 2011

Today I was up...the mosques do that for you at 5 am. I went back to sleep and then read my book. I finally got out of bed and had my walk through shower. A walk through shower is this: When the shower is hot and just when you get all lathered up it turns cold...that makes me squeak and walk through...!

I go to the front desk and ask Ahmed about going to Giza. He advises me that I should be back at the hostel at about 2pm as the celebration may get out of hand. Actually he says that they are expecting pro Mubarak protesters and that could make things sticky. I say okay, I'll be back. He gives me his phone number just in case I need it

.
I walk down the street to the Metro get on and head to the Giza station. After warding off a couple of touts I get on the bus and sit beside two girls. One of the women is getting the money together for the driver and I hand over my money to her. She gives me my change. All of about 20 cents? This is all handed to the driver and then there is a bit of conversation. The man beside me says that the driver wants double the fare from me. I say no. I say I pay the same as everyone else. The girls agree with me.

It is weird, you are driving through this suburb and then all of a sudden there is the Cheops pyramid. It is surreal.

At the end of the bus ride, of course, I am treated to a tour guide getting on and trying to get me to visit his place and they take me in the back way. The back way is the stalls for the donkeys, horses and camels. I am not impressed. I get out and walk in the direction of the gates. 60 Egyptian pounds. Very reasonable.

Today, I decided to not say anything to the various touts. Saying Shukrah, or no thanks just fuels them. Not saying anything does seem to work. They must think I'm a mute. I keep my sunglasses on and so they can't see my eyes.

The Sphinx is smaller than I expected. It reminds me of the fish story...it was THIS BIG! But still an amazing piece of work for it's day. There is a tour group of about 50 Egyptian people and only about five foreigners. I hang a bit to see what the tour guide says about the Sphinx. The head of the Sphinx was a depiction of the king's head was for the great knowledge of the king, (it lost it's beard when it was shot off) and the body of the lion was to depict that the king was as strong as a lion.

Do you want to ride a horse lady? Ride a horse Lady? Ride a camel today for you 10 pounds? Somehow riding on a hot animal today doesn't seem to be cooler alternative to me. I walk around the site and visit the pyramids. Amazing. Not all the sites are open today. It only takes about 2 hours and the sun is hot so it is time for me to go.

I hope that the museum is open on Sunday. I hope, I hope.

I come back the way I came and the sisterhood is looking out for me again on the bus. It brings a smile to my face. I give a small child that was acting up my compass to play with...while I was getting to the next transfer spot. He looks at me in wonder and the mothers look at me and smiles....wonder what they are thinking?

I get back onto the Metro and off at Sadat Station which is where Tahrir Square is. The military are checking all people for identification and I'm asked to move over to where some women are checking women's ID. I pull out my passport and she opens it and I'm not sure she even knows what she is looking for. Oh, well, I'm in the square.

There are hundreds of thousands of people here. All peaceful. All welcoming. I have several welcome me to Egypt. Some want to talk to me. My arabic is limited at best so that doesn't work. I want to take some pictures. There is a flower box (no flowers) and a women extends her hand smiling down at me to help me up. They are painting the Egyptian flag on everyone's faces and they are selling Egyptian flags and bandanas. They are extremely organized. There is food and water for everyone. They are waving flags from the businesses and the houses around the square. Some men are climbing the monuments and waving flags. There is chanting and it is all peaceful. Amazing. It literally chokes me up. This is at 2pm.

The party goes on into the night. The fireworks come out and the people are dancing in the street and chanting. There comes a giant Egyptian flag being floated down the street on the backs of several Egyptians.

Signs saying "Support Freedom travel to Egypt".
Signs saying, "Please get our stolen money back."

All this was peaceful.

I am watching after dark from the rooftop of our hostel. I am just amazed at the number of people. Traffic winding it's way through the crowds and no one hurt. No fights. No alcohol. Nothing but celebration.
The largest party I've ever been to and it's extremely moving.

Music is playing and the sounds of gentle celebration continue. I'm lulled into sleep by the sounds of freedom for Egypt....

Cairo

FINALLY.

I have to say all the work to get here has been worth the trouble. I was working on weather to go via Nuweiba on the flipping midnight ferry...yeah, like I needed a few more boyfriends...
Then I just left it up to my angels to decide. Didn't a sandstorm come in via Aquaba and was I ever relieved that I didn't have to take the slow boat in and arrive in Egypt at 4 am. Instead the seas were pretty rough and so I was very pleased that I went diving the day before, as the visibility would have been toast.
So instead I went via Isreal.

I had gone to the Egyptian consulate in Aquaba and they said come back in 4 hours. I didn't want to and so they said well you can get a visa very easy at the border. Well, not exactly. That's the interesting thing in Africa. It's not ever what it seems.

I decide because of the bad seas to come through Isreal. Everything goes well until I get to the Egyptian side. You have not visa? No problem for a mere $50 US and $15 US we can make that happen. Huh? I get angry. Backsheesh? I am tired. So I got angry. You don't do this in Africa. So I went back to Eilat, Israel to try and sort it out the next day. Now, I have to say anything is possible in Israel - really. Here was a country that was an unexpected surprise. Everyone is matter of fact and very very helpful. Why it's the first time in probably over a month I have heard music from North America. Eilat is very very nice. What's not to like? If the seas hadn't been so rough I might have done some diving here too.
I am cooling my temper just fine here. I meet another Canadian girl at the hostel and it is unbelievable to me the amount of stuff she is carrying with her. She is 43 and brought her moose teddy bear. She starts to give things to me that I don't want. Yikes.

Next day to the Egyptian consulate. Only this time they say maybe you can get a visa on Sunday. I need to get to Cairo by Monday, because I'm flying to my next revoluted country Tunisia!!!

So I just give up and go back and pay the backsheesh at the border to the tourist agent who has to guarantee that I will leave Cairo.

I get across and walk 1 km to the bus station and wait until 1630 to catch the bus. I get on and there are only two other tourists on the bus. We are it. Three of us.

We come through at least 10 military checkpoints and at each one the soldiers are very polite look at your passport and sometimes ask a few questions. What's your name, etc.

In the meantime I meet Alex from Germany who came originally to make a film on the music industry. He is in is 50's. He's been here since Jan 4th.

The hostel that we are going to is right down the street from Tahrir Square. He showed me some pretty amazing photos that he took about the demonstrations and also how the police shot tear gas and didn't check the wind direction and got it right in their faces and they are running away!

Anyways Alex is showing me on the bus and there are only about 8 of us on the whole bus. We get to a checkpoint just before the Suez Canal. They ask everyone to get off the bus and take our stuff with us. I grab my backpack and throw it on the ground. (Guess you wouldn't do that with a camera, eh?) So we pull out our passports and the military singles us out and brings us into a station for questioning. They say welcome to Egypt. They ask me about where I came from and where was my latest point of entry. I tell them Taba. Alex sits beside me. They ask him to open his backpack and he does. They see his camera and ask him to turn it on. He only has three photos on it. For some reason they think we are together. So the one English speaking guy says to me if you had been here since 4 Jan would you only take four photos. I just looked at him. (He obviously didn't know me...I had my camera stolen the last time and decided not to replace it!) Then Alex said she isn't with me, we just met on the bus. The corporal is feeling pretty good. He asks what is in Alex's dry sack. Alex pulls out a hard drive. (I just looked down). Now Alex is starting to shake, so I move chairs, drawing some attention to me. They ask Alex what is on the hard drive, and he says some videos and stuff. They continue with the photo line of questioning and Alex says that there are more photos on the hard drive. They drop the conversation and turn to me.

I was expecting this. So they start to ask me not to be afraid. I'm not. I tell them my story of how I tried to get a visa. He says did you spend just 2 hours in Eilat? I said no. He says he though so. I gave him the whole meal deal. I was kinda liking that I was able to tell the whole flipping fiasco to someone. I then said would you like to see my onward ticket. Yes, he would. I pull out my e-ticket and show him. I show him that I made the reservation in November. I show him who I am flying out with and where and when. He says well I wanted to hear your story. He says why are you here. I say as a tourist, I want to see Giza. He says please don't be scared. I said I'm not. He said welcome to Egypt. ( I think they are wondering about either journalists or spys).

No more checkpoints and we get to Cairo before the curfew - 2230. We grab a taxi and head to the hostel. Now there are more cats in Cairo I think than people. At least at the hostel there is. Alex and I decide to push the curfew and we head out for something to eat and a beer. We head to a place that is recommended which is open 24 hours. We enjoy our Stella beers and then at about 1230 we head back to the hostel. They have civilians directing traffic on the streets and it is hilarious. The people are very welcoming and I don't feel threatened at all.

Today I've wandered around and everyone is either stunned that I'm here - as every tourist attraction is closed. Alternatively, they walk you everywhere and nowhere just to be seen with a tourist and get you to their store and try to sell you something.. There are only a handful of us here. Businesses haven't seen people in a month. I went to the Citadel today and the Islamic area of the city. I will have to get a tougher skin here, because everyone wants to help you and then walk you towards their shop. Several of the police stations have been burned - gutted. On my way back I try to get a local bus back and there is a guy with a minibus. He says he is in love with me....I just laugh and laugh. I get on a bus with a bunch of women and they squirrel me away on the bus and the one woman knows that I need to get off at a certain mosque so she watches me and makes sure I get off with her. Really, the sisterhood is alive and well!

I came back on the Metro and had some help there too. Egyptians love everyone. When I say I'm from Canada, they say Canadian Dry?

Tomorrow is the day of rest and I am going to attempt to get to Giza. There will be a big peaceful celebration tomorrow in Tahir square so I hope to be part of that party too.

I got off the Metro and headed here to write this so all of you will be updated and not worry. It is very safe where I am. While walking around Tahrir square they are selling flags and painting the Egyptian flag on kids faces. They are very peaceful. I think they are handling this exceptionally well.

I have made contact with one couple today in Tunis who will come to get me at the airport when I arrive in Tunis. That is truely nice.

Jordan - Aquaba

AQUABA
Nice sunny skies and a warm place to be .... finally!
I can't believe it. I can walk around without a jacket on. It's very pretty here. What is not to like the water by the sea?

I have a blister on my heel from touring Petra at lightening speed. I finally get to my hotel the Dwiek 1 and it's very nice, for 15 JOD. I get sat TV although I'm not terribly into the hustler channel! That's the only channel that has a universal language it seems! LOL.

Anyways, I settle in and the next day I go looking for some diving. I am up at 7 but the McDonalds doesn't even open until 10! Round and round I go. I go to the tourist information, but she can't seem to tell me whether the ferry goes to Egypt. Yes, tourism is definitely in its infancy here.

I finally fall on a diving place and walk in. I decide to do a wreck dive and the Japanese garden.

I will be diving with my dive master, Francios from France. It's pretty dead around here so I am the only person going.

I like that there is a British woman Liz and Francios here otherwise I'm not sure what the standard would be. It is a shore entry. I haven't done a shore entry for some time. I am in a full wet suit and the water seems very warm. Everyone on the beach watches. I'm getting used to the open mouthed stares. In we go. This ship was purposely sunk to create a reef. We go under the ship and its freaky...you have to understand the size and well, it's freaky to go under. Never mind the next side. I'm a little freaked by the sheer size. I do eventually get collected as we are checking things out.

Up we come and then rest for about a half hour when I get to talk to some Americans from Georgia and Texas who are here getting certified. They are working in Egypt. I get some info and decide that I will take the taxi/bus through Isreal into Egypt tomorrow.

Francois and I go down for our next dive... called the Japanese Gardens. We see a small manta ray, a couple of white eels and a hermit crab and lots of clams, and lots lots of red, blue corals. A big sea worm that looks like a fat snake...sort of....not moving. Really a different world down there. It was only me and Francios. I haven't done too much diving in the first place, but not too many of my dives have just been two people. At the end of the dive I find that I'm starting to get chilled.

Out we come and I'm looking forward to a hot shower and to get all the salt taste out of my mouth...yuck. I need some ....not some a lot of sugar right now!

Onward to Egypt tomorrow......

Jordan - Petra - and a bedouin...

Petra!
I got up so early to be able to get here. I JUST made the bus to Petra. I couldn't get a taxi. I almost had to lay down in the middle of the road. Now, you have to know that there are probably more taxi drivers than people in any city, as they make very good money so everyone wants to be one.

I was trying to sleep on the bus, but there were these two Korean men that wouldn't stop talking. There is no way that you will convince me that women talk too much. They talked non-stop from the time we left until we arrived. They were in the back of the bus and they carried on the whole time. What a difference to a bus in Turkey. The helpers on the buses there will tell you to settle down...including the small children. The buses there are the best by far.

I got into my place...the Saba'a Hotel. Not all the nice.
I decided to just not fool around looking for a better place as I was only planning to spend one night here. I then am instructed that it's just 15 minutes walk down the street to the gates. Off I go. I don't get 50 feet when a green pickup pulls across the street. Please I will take you to Petra for free! I refuse. He instists. I decide why not. I get into his truck and he takes me down. On the way he tells me he doesn't like arab girls....WHATEVER! I thank him and he talks about if I need some assistance just call him. His name is Mohammed. Boy toy.

I get out and start walking. There are no clear signs to where the ticket sales are so you wander around and there are touts everywhere. I just don't respond or say thank you. I finally find the ticket office and it's a whopping 50 JOD for one day 55 for two days. Holy cow! They joke that the Jordanian government is paying off the national debt with the money that is paid by the tourists. I say we up the rate to the tourists seeing our national parks. Holy cow.

I have a bit of a walk and there seems to be a lot of people there in tour groups.

I walk and take pictures and around the corner I come and there is the Treasury. Wow. It is pretty impressive. Most of you know that I can't stand crowds too much so I head up a walk walk way and there is a stairway. I find out that there is a cruise ship with 18 bus loads of people. Yikes. I head up the stairway to find some solitude. I keep going up and up and up. Its the mountain goat in me....anyways I get to the top and it's peaceful and cool. I take of my boots and socks and lean back and look up at the sky. Nice hike.

I notice a bedouin, he starts playing his flute. I just wait. I figure I'm a target. If I only knew....

He comes over and starts to talk to me. His English is quite good. He says there is a view of the
Treasury at the top just 10 minutes away and he will make me a bedouin tea. I say okay. Keeping in mind that the hospitality here is what it is. I put on my socks and boots and walk down and ten minutes away there is the fantastic view of the Treasury from up top.

Sorry I can't post pictures...the computer I'm on isn't up to that standard.

I then have tea (I have my turkish tea cup with me) and we chat a bit. He says that if I want we could go see the castle and then afterward he will make a bedouin dinner on the fire for me. I am honestly excited by the prospect. I figure that this would be a geniuine opportunity to spend get to know a bedouin.

There is no doubt that I am cautious but I thought what the heck. His name is Audi...yes like the german car. Ha. He has a donkey named Michael Jackson. We go to the castle through the back way and it is hot. We get to the castle where he phones his friend and he comes and picks us up. We are going to make dinner and watch the sunset. Yes there is a small spark of the unknown here and it's charming. He says that he is giving me a Arabic name. Saara...it means the stars.

We go into town where he picks a live chicken to be butchered, and some pototoes and tomatoes some spickes some tin foil an onion and some water. I should have clued in at that point....I mean bedouin's didn't have tin foil did they?

We go back and on the way back he buys a mickey of what I found out later to be ouzo. We start the fire and get the food on the fire and he starts to drink. His friend then comes to join in...I didn't know then, but after a little conversation it seems that this is a common thing. What was I thinking! So he drinks pretty much the mikey in about an hour and a half and after I have eaten I tell him that I want to go back to my hotel. He says he is hurt. I don't want to sleep under the stars...
That would be a big no.
I get up to leave and he follows me but then starts the begging. I want to be with you just to love you one night.
Not going to happen.
He continues, I continue.
I was somewhat concerned to get back but thank goodness the moon was out and it was easy to make your way. We finally get to the road. He says he will call his friend. I say don't bother I will walk back. I am concerned but not afraid. He then goes for the bubble burster...
I want you to pay me. I say what? He says I want you to pay me.... I say how much. He says 20 JOD!!! LOOOOOLLLL.
I say meet me tomorrow and I will pay you.

I get to the hotel and try to take a shower but there isn't enough pressure. I go to the room across the hall and take a shower and come into my room and go to bed.

At first I was really beating myself up for this, but I thought you know it was for the most part a really nice time. Certainly a time I won't forget.

The next day I went to Petra at 7 am and went to the Monastery. There was only about 4 other people there. I decide to walk the whole thing even though I am offered a donkey the whole way. I get on top and am the first one there. I take my photos and then get myself sorted to get back to the hotel for check out and onward to Aquaba.

I am to catch the 12 noon bus but that doesn't leave until 2:30. I am hamming it up with the bus driver because the bus isn't going so I say I will drive. I get into the driver's seat and he is enjoying it as much as me. I was hoping that I might meet others that want to go and we could get taxi. No go. Patience. Sometimes things don't go as you planned. Keep a good sense of humor.

Then as we are sitting there doesn't a green pick up pull into the station??? There is Mohammed with his broken heart looking for me. I just can't hide here can I?
Anyways....ontward to Aquaba