We are in Spain - no France - no Austria - whatever

Computer is still dead so I will try some updates from internet cafes.

We stayed in Barcelona for a few days after an all night bus trip. The bus trip was terrible but the city was awesome. Lots of pictures (which I am still uploading to the same place as before) but really cool. Great subway system and beautiful weather. Nice fort on the hilltop with one of the best collections of swords I have ever seen. No sign of General Franco.

Had to fly to Paris because the train trip would have cost a mint. Made our way through the Paris subway system (which looked like it was using the medieval tunnels still) with no problem and to the over priced hostel. Actually for Paris it was cheap but everything in Paris is expensive except the wine and beer in the stores. Saw all the sights. The Tower is bigger than it looks. Versailles is pretty big for a cottage and the traffic is not as bad as I thought.

Small world item. While in the line for Versailles a woman screamed 'Lana' and it turned out to be her old friend Jill, who had been maid of honor at our wedding. Haven't seen her in 20 years or so.

After Paris we flew to Vienna. Great security at the Paris airport by the way - best of the trip. Vienna is also great and much cheaper than Paris. Nothing like bottles of wine in the store at 1.50 Euros. Spent four days here and loved it all.

Now onto Prague for five days before heading to Poland.

Sorry this is lacking the normal wit but time is short and I gotta go.

Sorry folks we have a technical problem

April 24, 2009

Yesterday our little laptop stopped working. It was the key to doing the blog. Write off line and then post it up.

I am afraid that, until or if I sort that out, the blog postings will be very skimpy if they happen at all.

Currently we are in Paris having just left Barcelona Spain. Saw the Louve yesterday - Great

Tommorrow on the plane to Vienna

The Last Kingdom

April 16.17, 2009

Granada, Spain

Did you know that, for awhile in the 1200’s or so, the part of Spain ruled by the Moors was the most civilized in Europe? They had Universities, built beautiful buildings and in general had a prosperous thing going. This was at a time when most of Europe was in the dark ages. In the 1300’s the last Moorish kingdom fell to the Christian armies and their final stronghold was Granada.

La Alhambra sits on the hill that dominates the city. It is a vast complex of palaces, walls, gateways and forts all in various stages of ruination or restoration. Touring the area is not always easy since they only sell 2,000 tickets a day to the public and you have a certain time that you must be at one palace or you can’t get in at all. We had to walk up the hill, in the dark, at 6:30 am to get a ticket when the office opened at 8:30.

I have to say the Moors really knew how to live. The palaces all have extensive systems of fountains, pools and channels of water throughout. There is even a staircase where the banister is open at the top and water runs down the inside of the railing. The gardens are amazingly intricate and there are enough fruit trees to keep everyone stocked up on their Vitamin C. The fort looks like one out of a young boy’s adventure book - complete with dungeons and towers. Starting to get the picture?

Washington Irving, the American writer, lived here among the ruins for a few months in the 1880’s and wrote a number of books and stories based on it. There is even a little plaque on the wall of the one room commemorating it.

The old city beneath the fort is full of narrow cobblestone streets and buildings dating from the period after the Moors when the Spanish Court was based here. There are tons of restaurants, statues and plazas to make it picture perfect. On the other hand, it can be expensive and there are many tourists.

Nice place. Glad we stopped. Didn’t mean to originally but the bus trip to Barcelona was going to be too long by itself and we ended up taking two days here. Now we get on an all night bus trip to Barcelona. Love in sleeping in my clothes.

Back to Coronation Street

April 14.15, 2009

Tangiers, Spain
The Rock, Iberian Peninsula

Nothing like a first class overnight train. Sounds good doesn’t it? Really, it is more like a very small den with six Lazy-Boys and not nearly enough ventilation or legroom. It would be somewhat entertaining watching everyone trying to get comfortable except for the fact that you are trying to do it too. After the night in the desert, that is how we spent the next one while on the train from Marrakech to Tangier.

We got into Tangier and headed for the ferry over to Spain. We took the high-speed one and it really was – making the crossing in only 35 minutes versus the standard four hours. Followed an Australian fellow from the train over to the bus station and plopped onto a local bus to La Linea de la Concepcion - the gateway to Gibraltar. An hour later, we were following the big silhouette in the sky towards the border crossing.

At the border, a bored Spanish cop glanced at the inside of our passports and then a nice British gentleman only glanced at the Canadian cover before waving us through. No customs check, bag check or forms to fill out and we were in. Must have known we were coming. Took the double decker bus (really) to the centre of town and found the Cannon Hotel – on Cannon Lane.

For the last two months, we had been in jungles, deserts and strange cities where any English we heard was a bonus but not expected. We couldn’t drink the water and the culture was always a learning experience. For the last three days, we had been in the same set of clothes and smelled a little like those camels. After all that, we found ourselves on the set of Coronation Street. Gibraltar has to be more English than anything in England is.

For two days we drank pints of beer, ate Shepherd’s pie, shopped at Marks and Spencer’s (whose chocolate cookies are really good), watched soccer games in pubs and walked around the narrow old part of the colony. Of course, we went to the top of the Rock for the view and the monkeys and we shopped for a new camera since the last one was broken when Lana’s camel fell on it. (Apparently, camel damage is not covered by the warranty.)

Going to Gibraltar was great. There was even hot water and TV! Had a great time and were sorry to leave. Left for an early bus on the Spanish side and had to walk out of the colony at six in the morning with a light English drizzle helping us along. Not a lot of space in the colony so the last little bit was crossing the airport runaway and hoping that no early morning flights were scheduled.

When a Camel falls over does it hurt?

April 12.13, 2009

Zagora, Morocco

The Sahara Desert

What would a visit to Morocco be without seeing the Sahara? We decided that a quick visit to the land of camels and Berber tents would be fun. So at 7 am, we loaded into a van with six others and headed toward the Atlas Mountains looming in the distance.

Eight hours later, after winding on a narrow two-lane road up and over the mountains, we pulled into Zagora. Just like everything else on the way the buildings are all made of thick mud walls. Zagora has a small river passing through it so the palm trees and crops around the city are a splash of green at odds with the greys and browns of the rock we have been looking at all day.

Our driver, who spoke rarely and then only in French, stopped the van next to a bunch of camels and motioned for us to get out. The Berbers with the camels, all kneeling, motioned for us to grab our gear and stand next to a camel. I have to tell you that, up close, a camel makes a moose look good.

We crawled onto the blankets on top of the camel and eventually one of the Berbers would come along, bark a word at the camel and up it went. (Word of advice here – when they get up hold on tight).

We spent the next hour riding into the desert. The swaying isn’t bad but there aren’t any stirrups and a camel is pretty wide Lets just say that you feel stretched by the time you get off.

We stopped amidst some small dunes out in the desert. One tent for all of us. It is a wide low tent made of old rugs with a small table inside along with sleeping pads, tough cushions and itchy blankets. No water and the toilet facilities are as close as the next dune but it sure feels authentic.

At dark the sky is filled with stars and a Berber brings us some “Berber whiskey” (Berber tea). A little while later soup, bread and Moroccan stew follows. We sleep through the desert night in the clothes that we came in, huddled under the blankets as the desert night gets colder.

We are awaken at dawn for a breakfast of bread and tea and the ride back on the camels.

Close to the end point we had a small problem. Lana had mentioned, before the ride, that she would probably get the camel that would run off into the desert since something like that always happened when she got on any kind of animal. I asked what could happen with a camel?

What happened was it fell over.

Right in the middle of the group, her camel suddenly went over like it had been hit by a truck. As it fell she hit her leg on the ground with the camera in between the ground and her. So now, she has a really enormous bruise and we need a new camera.

The camel is fine.

Another eight hours to Marrakech and directly to the train station for the overnight to Tangier. Still in the same clothes.

So this is what they were singing about.

April 9.10.11, 2009

Marrakech, Morocco

Crosby, Stills Nash & Young had a song a long time ago where they sang about the “train to Marrakech”. Now I know what the hell they were talking about.

Marrakech has been a market and trading town for maybe a thousand years. Sure there seem to be a lot of new developments on the outskirts of town but the old Medina looks much the same as it did 500 years ago. Of course, I am overlooking the continuous stream of motor scooters racing down the narrow passageways but they still have to stop for the burro carts blocking the way.

We stayed in a B&B that was in the old city. The directions were to enter at one of the old gates and then take the first right and the second left. Stop at the door with the 70 above it. The passageways were only eight feet wide (no names of course) and I felt that we stepped back into the movie set of some biblical epic.

Through the occasional open door, we could see tiled entranceways but mostly there were solid wooden doors with embedded steel rivets that wouldn’t have been out of place in a medieval fortress. We had a bad moment with a swarm of kids that wanted money to guide us, followed us there and demanded payment. Insulted by the paltry change we offered they eventually stormed off in search of wealthier prey.

We spent the next few days wondering the old city (and getting lost on a continuous basis). The souks, or markets, are narrow passageways crowded with vendors selling everything from clothes to lamps to spices to produce to antiques to rugs to pharmaceuticals. Most of their customers are locals not tourists and the bargaining can be furious. Of course, if you are a tourist the initial asking price triples but that just gives you more room to bargain.

The passageways can be more than crowded with burro carts, motor scooters, bicycles, the odd small truck and hundreds of people. If you are hungry then lots of vendors sell the local round flat bread to nibble on. The vendors are not as aggressive as those in Turkey are but once you start to bargain getting away without a sale can be a serious problem.

The real heart of Marrakech is the Djemaa el Fna. In a ritual that is hundreds of years old the huge square is filled during the day with snake charmers and vendors (like the guy selling the teeth – a whole table of human teeth). For a few Dirham you can have a poisonous snake draped on your shoulders or take a picture of a cobra swaying in front of a charmer playing a flute.

At night, the square really comes alive. Half of it is filled with musicians, storytellers and speakers. The other half (set up only at 4 pm and gone by the morning) becomes a vast restaurant with kitchens and tables selling kebabs, snails, fresh orange juice, fresh sheep’s head (really) and a dozen other things. With the lights, the smoke from the grills and the hundreds of people it is a truly unique sight. I have never seen anything like it. Really one of the world’s really cool places.

That CSNY song was always one of my favourites but now it’s magical, just like the Djemaa.

Rick where are you when we need you?

April 7.8, 2009

Casablanca, Morocco

Hmmm. In a town made famous by a movie there is no glamour to be had. Rick, from the movie, wouldn’t like it. Drinks are hard to find and then very expensive when you do locate a place willing to sell them.

Nowadays it is primarily a port and industrial town with its only cultural claim to fame being the world’s second largest mosque (after the one in Mecca). It has room for 100,000 people at one time. Other than that it has an airport (which we came in at) and a bus station (which we used as soon as possible). Not one of our favourite towns.

Welcome President Obama. Meet my new best friend Muhad.

April 5.6.7, 2009

Showing that he can’t be out done by us, President Obama decided to visit Turkey while we were there. He was not only visiting the country but exactly the same places that we had visited the day before.

Of course you would have to be blind to miss the preparations. Blue police barricades suddenly appeared around the Hagia Sophia (for 1000 years the largest church in the world – built 537 AD) and the Blue Mosque (built in 1616). Large men, wearing sunglasses and nylon parkas, appeared in local coffee shops and the waiters at the cafes all knew which rooftop bars had been taken over for sniper posts.

Our concern was just getting out of the city since he was coming to our area as we were trying to get out. In the end it all worked out except that we had to detour an extra couple of kilometres to catch the tram for the airport. Not fun while carrying a large pack and walking uphill on cobblestone streets. Interesting to pass police, soldiers, water cannon and armoured personnel carriers with machine guns while walking out. If the Canadian PM came I don’t even think he would get a private tour.

Now back to Istanbul. Spent our last full days there touring attractions (see above), getting lost in the narrow twisting streets and trying local cuisine. I particularly like the Turkish tradition of the hookah – the water pipe. We spent one evening in a traditional style bar, with the cushions on the floor – no chairs, with Lana watching me smoke a hookah. Apple tobacco I think.

The last afternoon we went to a traditional Turkish bath. I developed a close personal relationship with a large gentleman, named Muhad, who was wearing nothing more than a towel and a big moustache.

In a Turkish bath (this one was built 500 years ago) you lie for a while on a huge piece of marble in a steam house atmosphere. Eventually, when they think you are ready, an attendant comes to exfoliate, massage and soap you down. Eventually they douse you with buckets of warm water. It was great right down to the moment when Muhad learned over me and said “you come back with tip”. I knew then we had a connection. Besides no one had ever touched me that way before.

On to Casablanca.

My friend, please take my card.

April 1.2.3.4, 2009

Istanbul, Turkey

Everyone has friends in Turkey. Specifically everyone who runs a restaurant, a street stall or a booth in the Grand Bazaar is your friend – your good friend. How do I know? They have all told me – repeatedly.

We flew into Istanbul, in a very comfortable Turkish Air jet, on the overnight from Bangkok. With the nine and half hour flight and the change in the time zone we had a fun time getting onto the metro and making the connection to the tram to get to our hostel. After that, we wandered the streets with our heavy packs on and at the mercy of a bad map and the equally bad directions of half a dozen locals.

We are staying in the oldest part of the city and there is an ancient (500 AD) city wall down the street. The bulk of the Blue Mosque rises in the near distance and the roof of the hostel offers a view the Bosphorus – the strait separating Europe and Asia. Istanbul is located on both sides of the water.

Many of the structures that you see here date from 500 AD or were built during the glory days of the Ottoman Empire. It is unusual to see an 800 year old wall with a new building using it for support.

Since Istanbul is the largest city in Europe (did you know that?) we plan to only see a small part of it. The Grand Bazaar and Spice Markets were a hoot for me but a bit of a strain for Lana. Every shop or stall has the owner standing in front of it and they are like, shall we say, a little aggressive. Did I mention that they are all men as well?

At the better shops, they are quite polite and will be happy to get you a cup of tea to discuss business over. At the small cheap stalls, the only English words they seem to know are “Hey Lady”. Many of them will try anything to start a conversation usually based on where they think you are from. Wearing my hat from Australia seems to generate some interest in my non-existent horse or perhaps just the hope that shouting “Cowboy” will prompt me to buy everything in the store.

The failsafe for them and us is the business card. If you find yourself cornered just ask for one of their cards and say you may be back later. If they can’t get your attention any other way they may force a card on you. I have quite a collection right now.

The aggressive salesmanship aside, the Grand Bazaar is really one of those places you have to visit to believe. Just finding your way through is an exercise in navigational expertise akin to being dropped blindfolded into a shopping mall parking lot at Christmas and trying to find someone else’s car.

Have toured two Sultan’s palaces and think that they knew how to live. My favourite was seeing a basket of emeralds from the old royal treasury. Each of them was half the size of a chicken egg. Have to get me one of those.

Travelling in Thailand (and Southeast Asia)

March 2009

Ok so if you want to follow in our footsteps but have never been to this part of the world before then here are some travel tips. If you are planning on staying at western style hotels and taking only managed tours then skip this. Best Westerns are the same all over.

• Driving – stay alive and don’t drive. Maybe rent a scooter in a nice safe place but don’t even consider driving here. This is from someone who enjoys driving in Montreal or Detroit.
• Hope you like rice and noodles. If you are eating cheap then those are your options. Western style food, especially pizza and spaghetti, cost two or three times as much. In the bigger cities, you can find any kind of Western food that you want but you won’t pay Thai prices for them.
• Buy only bottled water. I don’t drink bottled water elsewhere but I do here.
• Take only clothes that hide it when you sweat. If you do any degree of walking or trekking you will sweat. If you sweat a lot at home this will be a lot worse. Wear colours that look the same way wet and dry. Take only clothes that don’t need any special care. Be prepared if the laundry has ironed your socks and bleached your favourite beige blouse into something that looks like a hospital uniform.
• Learn how to walk. In the towns and cities there are many open drains, broken tiles, unexpected drops and curbs. Your feet have to have eyes of their own if you want to avoid a twisted ankle. (The concept of liability is not one that rules the day here). Walk a lot on rough ground before you come here and your feet will teach themselves (or spend all your time looking at the ground).
• Everyone knows someone who can help you. Every guesthouse or hostel or hotel already has a suggestion for how to book a tour, do the laundry or find a business. Usually it is owned by a family member or friend. Thailand runs on what we would call kickbacks or commission. This doesn’t make it bad and in fact it can be very convenient at times. For expensive stuff always check around. The more expensive the accommodation the more likely you are paying more for the extras.
• Toilets – a traditional Thai toilet is one where you squat over the hole in the floor (which is probably hooked up to a modern plumbing system). A typical en-suite in a guesthouse has a western style toilet, a sink and a shower all in the same space. If it is a shared bathroom, wear your sandals. Expect, in some areas, to have no handle to flush but rather a small cistern in the room where you can ladle water into the toilet. Toilets in train stations, etc., usually have a small charge to use them. Oh and if you are wondering what that small hose with the nozzle is next to the toilet it is connected to the fact that there may be no toilet paper in the room. I'll let you figure it out.
• Thai don’t sweat much (generally not at all) and go to great lengths to look good in public. Do what you can to match that.
• Beer is everywhere and pretty cheap. Wine is not cheap at all and is very hard to get in budget places. The more westernized (and higher priced) the restaurant the greater the chances of getting wine. Street stalls never have it. Don’t expect it to be on a budget restaurant menu.
• Learn to love 7-11 stores. As amazing as it seems they are the great equalizer for pricing on beer (the cheapest), cigarettes, pop and water. They are everywhere in all mid to large sized towns.
• Air Conditioning – always ask for it when you stay somewhere and pay the dollar or two extra. Be prepared that many businesses (and subways and buses) set their units at about 16C (62F). For example, when I step out of the monorail cars my glasses fog up. On the other hand, 7-11s are a great way of avoiding heat stroke.
• Many people in Thailand know 5-10 words of English, are genuinely nice and just want to help. Their English is just enough to do some business. Try to talk simply and without using vowels (i.e. pay bill) until you know how much they understand. Do not assume that since they are smiling and nodding you are getting through. They may just not want to embarrass you or themselves. And, please for God’s sake, don’t talk loudly. Their hearing is just fine. Your lack of Thai is the problem – not their lack of English.
• Thai writing. Many things are written in English letters in Thailand but most aren’t. Thai script is indecipherable to most English speakers. Their street numbers and names are a completely different system than the one in use in NA and many streets have no markings. Always try to get a map or specific directions if you can.
• Taxis and Tuk-Tuks. Always settle on a fixed fair beforehand. Most Thais take the bus and that is always preferable if you can figure it out.
- Staffing – expect there to be at least two Thai staff, and maybe more, in every tour bus or truck or at every desk. Sometimes it maybe the whole family. That doesn’t mean that they are all there to help you. They may just be hanging out, catching a ride or doing something else. Don’t be mad if they aren’t all trying to solve your problem.

Dogs – last but not least there are dogs everywhere in Thailand. “Mixed breed” is an understatement. Some may belong to people but most don’t. They won’t bother you if you don’t bother them. Don’t make the mistake of trying to pet them or play with them. Think of them as more of an urban coyote. They help keep the streets clean and won’t beg for food.

Bangkok, Thailand -- again

March 29.30.31, 2009

Ah to be back in Bangkok. Oddly enough, since we have been in Bangkok a number of times, it feels like we are coming home. Booked in to the same hostel we know how to get around the city and what things cost. There is also nothing like Bangkok air. Once you taste it nothing else tastes the same.

At the airport, where we first arrived in Asia at midnight a month ago, we relax while waiting for the express bus to the area that our hostel is in. We grin watching backpackers from all over the world try to figure out which bus to take to where. Every now and then it is nice to be smug.

For two and half days we do not do much. We went to two of Bangkok’s famed shopping malls. One of them was very high end with white coated doormen and the other was best described as a giant street market crammed into a six storey mall. Both had massive food courts and movie theatres. The Department store at each had large numbers of staff who basically shadow your every move hoping to get the commission from the sale. If you happen to be my age it is somewhat unnerving to buy a pair of underwear with three young Thai women trying to show you samples of everything that you look at.

Went to a movie in a huge theatre with the best seats I have ever seen. (In Thailand and Malaysia, by the way, they sell you a specific seat even if there is nobody else in the theatre.) Of course, at the beginning of the movie we had to stand for a video of the King while the national anthem played. Good video too. Made Ghandi look like some kind of scumbag in comparison.

Had two late night discussions with a very interesting group of travellers. There was the retired English professor of psychology (neo-Freudian but I tried not to hold that against him), the snake biologist from Australia, the farmer’s son from India, the would-be English teacher from Ireland and any number of others who dropped in and dropped out as the night went on. Of course, the depth of the discussion seemed to vary in direct proportion to the number of Chang beers that were consumed. Nevertheless, I think we would have stood a fair chance of solving the world’s problems if we had a few more nights. If any of them read this – thanks. It was one of the more outstanding times that I had on our travels.

On March 31 we bid farewell to Bangkok, and SE Asia, and got on the 11:35 pm flight to Turkey. We were sad to go.