More-Rockin Morocco pt. 3

Walked back from the Bus Station. I Tried to tell them that I knew where I was going, but of course they had to ask someone right when I figured out exactly where we were (it was still emasculating). Went back to our hostal and got to sleep in separate beds in a room for ourselves.This picture is of the Royal Cous Cous in Essaouira. The Camel meat is somewhere in there.

Half of us took showers like quitters and the other half toughed it out like vikings. That night we went out to walk around the souqs and  haggled, I didnt get much because I needed dirham for dinner but still haggled for fun. Got some good deals that I was sad to walk away from and disrespected others it seemed.

Dinner that night we got at the center of the main plaza where the chefs fight between themselves to win. We were in the middle of such a fight when ones chefs final price was free bread, olives, water and tea. The other chef could not do better and was defeated. I got calamari and shrimp. Both were fantastic. Walked around the plaza and played some games, listened to some drum circles, saw snake charmers, monkeys, crazy old bearded dudes talking to themselves ... pretty much everything you would see in the first 5 minutes of Aladdin minus the good looking Jezebels.

The guy in the picture was an Apothecary that sold some very interesting tea. This picture is of me sniffing some herb.............it's for snorers and clogged sinuses. It felt like a smoke bomb was set off in my nostril cavity. He also drew on the girls faces for good luck or something. I'm pretty sure he was just messing with stupid tourists.

Some guys came up to us because they liked the girls (this happened many times). One guy wanted to trade his wife for Sam, another guy before would have traded 50 camels for Emily. The camel is the Moroccan Ferrari. That night we hung out on the Rooftop terrace of our hostel but by that time my camera died. It was spectacular.





This is a cool picture to leave off on I think. Me and my boy 'zoga

Meet "Marzoga", Essaouira pt. 2

My response to uncle Fran's christmas card

This was the day I was looking forward to, Camel riding. Got up early and took a 2 and 1/2 hour to the coast. Easily, we met ten times nicer people as well as noticeably fresher air (kids did not try to profit from tourists by selling Kleenex). Valerio found many Italian speakers, one of which got us to our Riad (hostel) inside the labyrinth like Medina (walled city) of Essaouira. The Riad was amazing, the workers were amazingly lax with everything, offered us free coffee, and set up our camel ride for us as well as transportation while we settled ourselves in our room.

Took a jeep to the camel ranch, petted horses, cute puppies and the occasional cat that wasn't an ass while we waited for our camels. They all seemed to take a liking to Emily and not to me, a huge first in the world of animals.

The picture in order is Emily, Vale, and Crazy-Insane Neurotic Ex-girlfriend Sam, and still is to all aunts asking. The camel ride was amazing, we went through the forest, saw some creeks, wild dogs, bulls, and walked along the beach. I rode on the feisty Marzoga of which only I could tame.

If anyone has a chance to go on a camel, take it, its not at all life changing but it will definitely shape your perspective on camels forever. Camels are not at all nice and make the ugliest sound known to man (guessing). Marzoga kept wanting eat Sam ahead of me, probably because she doesn't take showers (fact). For anyone interested, Marzoga likes long walks on the beach as well as drooling and spitting. Special skills involve saving grass and sand in his mouth for later. Very sociable.

Came back to the hostel, free ride again, and finally paid for our nightly stay. Changed into our gear and went to the beach. When in Rome, do as the Romans do so I took the surfboard the hostel offered to customers. We walked to the beach out of the Medina and to the coast. Surfing was really fun, I even got up a couple times and pics to prove it. Of course I am full of excuses like the the waves were not big enough to get a good "shred" in, the board needed more wax, and my right nip was chafing like Andy Bernard's on "The Office" so take what may.

And for my Aunt Colleen and Aunt Nancy, I was getting all the stares from the Moroccan women on the beach. I dont know if they were jealous because they can't go in the water without wearing their burqa's  or that I was looking really Gnarly Awesome surfing... Either way I was awesome.

Left the beach so we could get money for dinner, return surfboard and watch sunset, but of course, I was traveling with women and missed it by at least 2 hours (1 for each). Tried to go back to our hostel a different way but of course made it just in time for primetime shopping in the Medinas main street, and traveling with a huge surfboard in a dense crowd is a perfect way to enrage people as I took out many women and children... Kickin' ass and taking names.

Got dinner at an awesome restaurant where I got 3 dish meal, starting with tomatoes with basil and tuna on top, tastes better than you think. Next was the main course, cous cous, as if i dont get enough already at Grandma Donahue's house. This was probably the first and only time I will ever crave cous cous. Lucky for me, my dish of cous cous came replete with chicken, figs and baby Camel leg we think. Dessert was a dish with a small assortment of bite size cookies, of which 3/4 tasted like they were made with laundry detergent.

That night we hung out on top of the terrace with 1983 red wine. I tried to break out some of my dad's b.s. wine lingo,"Assertive yet not too pushy". Like everyone else in our family, they also were not impressed.

 Went to bed after. Sleeping again was quite hard with Vale's open floodgates and had to walk around again downstairs before I could attack the sheep's and the fence again. However it was humorous to see the other strangers in our room unable to sleep. Sam gave him a nice rap upside the head and he finally shut up.

The next morning i woke up early to hang out on the terrace. This is what the view looked like. Stole some leftover mint tea from the guys we met from last night and relaxed. ( see what i mean by Labrynth?)

Before Our bus came we did some more exploring on the other side of Essouira where fishing and such happens. Of course I let my curiosity take over and climbed the stone wall and scaled craggy rocks to get some pictures no one else could. (Sounds cooler than what I actually had to do, and to my dismay i found a 70 year old who was able to do the same thing.)

Took bus ride back after losing 50% of our group a half hour before our bus ride back to Marrakesh. Part three to come soon!

Its Always Sunny in Morocco part 1

This picture was my favorite moment of Morocco among many. Skipping the time-line of many unfortunate events of the first day starting by almost missing my flight b/c of my Senora's awful sandwhich making skills, I would like to start with the next morning, precisely at 2AM. Of course by this time I know not to venture out by myself since the news of the deceased American student in Madrid, but when your room only has one queen size bed and your bunkmate tells you he has a snoring problem... and on top of that the excitement of being in Africa overwhelming you, sleeping would be a step down from futile. Our hostel was a stone throw away from the main square anyway and I hadn't gotten any pictures since arrival (Fna del Jemaa plaza i think it was called).

About half of the once packed fresh squeezed orange juice stands were open, squeezing the last of the days oranges into pitchers probably to be resold in the morning. Ginger tea stands were selling the last of kegs supply. I found out on the last day in Marrakech by a nice woman that this uncomfortably spicy drink is popular because it's an aphrodisiac (on the same topic, apothecaries in the Souks sold Viagra tea as well) The picture above is of one of the ginger tea stands. Walking a little bit more ways, there was the largest mosque, minaret in Marrakesh (Guessing). Around the mosque on both sides were orange orchards. The whole time I was getting feelings that I really wasnt supposed to be here, especially this late. But who cares, and I ended up taking a holy orange from the holy Muslim Orange grove. I still remember the taste, the normal sized orange was so tart that i had to spit it out. The acidic juices got into my ravaged cuticles on my fingers and stung like crazy ...products of the preceding weeks mid terms. Left the grove to walk around the mosque and this is when it gets interesting. I was followed by a man who just came up to me to shake my hand. Begrudgingly I did, but the man just wanted to talk.

Saw kids playing soccer next to what seemed like a graveyard of equally sized rocks right to the left of the towering minaret. Almost immediately one kid asked me to join. Even though I didn't understand his arabic, his massive cheery smile was all the translation I needed. (can you guess which one he was in the picture above?)

 The game was Amazing. The kids loved me. Every time some one scored on my team between the two makeshift goals of stolen graveyard rocks my team came up to me and gave me high fives or pad on the back as if I was the play's tactician (I hardly touched the ball). On top of this I would let out Americanized interjections whenever a team scored (booyah, oh yah, woo, yes, things like this). Each one they would repeat after me and would emphatically repeat it when they scored next. You can imagine that the game was very unofficial as the kids camaraderie would take over and turn into fights and unwarranted fouls. One kid tried to pop the already flat ball and end the game.

All in all it was passionate game of Mosque-yard futbol.  I told myself I would leave when i finally scored cause it was getting late. Of course it was a flagrant handball goal,  to which i exclaimed "IM IRISH". I think one kid got what I meant. Got my Picture above and returned to Valerio, the sleeping beauty minus the beauty, quantity squared.

Tomo is bus tp Essaouira, The only place in the world with four vowels sequenced right next to each other. (Guessing).

Drunk Chicken And Morocco

With Dean gone for the week, It's just me and Ana. Young Gregorio too but he just sits locked in his room doing God knows what. Dean's girlfriend visited for her Spring break. Im not surprised that she would come this far just to see Dean judging from their nightly Skype chats. He talks to her like im not even in the room in his boyfriendy voice. This includes cheesy jokes, "Baby and honey" name drops, and boisterous bi-polar emotions on account of both parties. As evil as it sounds, I used the sound recorder on my computer and taped one of his chats so that maybe one day I can play it for him just in case I crack. (I've cracked before, freshman year roommate, under the same conditions, boyfriend voice and all, 4AM in the morning). Anyways, With him gone everything is better. For one I can sleep with the shades up because Dean is a princess.

For more proof that I'm Ana's favorite, please address the following. She has always called me Hijo, instead of my name. (Hijo is son in spanish). Since Dean left, Ana has been doing my laundry double time. I have also been receiving mini lunches when i come back from school. (pictures below). For the first time, Ana invited me to watch TV with her because an English show was on. Still getting Eggs, bacon, coffee, yogurt and fruit for breakfast, and its tasting better everyday. AND DINNERS?

I told Ana the first day that I can eat the steak she makes every single day. So for three days this week I had Steak and home fries. And what else does she make me? Drunk Chicken, twice this week. The best dinner she could ever make me, and I had one tonight and I am gorged. Ana Told me this morning she was making it for dinner. So I told her that when I come back from the park, I'll be able to finish the whole chicken without any help. I failed deplorably, but I blame my loss on the fact that she maliciously served me a Strawberry milkshake instead of the usual water during dinner. I have reason to believe that the airy frothyness took up room and therefore I fell on my own sword. Ana was laughing at me saying "pobrecito" (poor baby) but I know that when defeat is inevitable, it is wisest to yield and live to fight another day. I shall lay the seed of victory another dinner.

And now that I think about it, I need to lay down for a bit. I'll talk put my Morocco post up soon. Here are some pictures of what Ana served me this week.

"El Pollo Baracho" drunk chicken, this one has scrambled eggs, dates, figs, raisins

Trip decker w/ ham cheese first level and tomatoe lettuce second level

Cured ham slices, sardines, fried cheese balls.

coffee and cake