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Another very full day without any time to catch our breath. We don’t want to sleep in the bus because we might miss something! Our new transport arrived today which was more the size we had all expected when we booked. It is a 14 seater minivan/ bus and much more comfortable. We are all very happy.

Anne and I had bought some strawberries to share but we had no chance to eat them or need them as it turned out. When we checked their condition they had grown an incredibly healthy crop of mould and released all their juice. When I removed the bag holding the container from the bed, we were horrified to find the juice had seeped through the bag onto the sheets and mattress protector. What a flurry we had trying to clean it up and a few laughs too when we thought about what the cleaners might think.

Our first stop after driving through beautiful rich farmland full of olive trees, wheat, and barley crops was Volubilis, a Roman ruins which was incredibly important during the Roman era. This area was called Mauritania which is where the name Moors came from too. The mosaics on the floor of some of the excavated houses were really impressive. It was so hard to imagine this was all under ground. The French excavated the site from 1912 to 1955 during their colonisation of Morocco. The triumphant arch and the forum where in reasonable condition as were some of the baths and floors of homes. The city was large and there is continuing excavation.

From here we drove to Meknes, another previous capital and a rather grand city. It has the remains of an aqueduct, granary store, and stables for 10,000 horses! We had a woman guide and she was so interesting. She showed us a video of a male belly dancer, her teacher and he was fantastic! She talked al lot about the tolerance between faiths in Morocco- the fact that they are conservative but also moderate. High schools are mixed now and you saw lots of young couples together. We visited another palace and saw the golf course. The grounds are immense and golf is played at night. She took us to a jewellery place which was my downfall. Mary also capitulated. I bought a beautiful Berber necklace of silver, turquoise and coral.

All these towns have had Jewish quarters and the Jews were acknowledged as skilled artisans. There are Berbers who converted to Judaism and others who took on Islam so that there has been a mixing of the two cultures and you will meet a person with a Muslim and Jewish name such as Mohammed Cohen! The King during the 2nd World War refused to give up the Jews to the Nazis and for this he has been held in high esteem by Jewish communities. Many Jews have now moved to Israel however.

Finally we arrived in Fes, and had to leave our van on the outside of the Medina( the old walled city) and went straight to dinner and a show of belly dancing, magician traditional male dancing /music troupe and an acrobat. The restaurant was so gaudy but exotic and the food was good. Mary was enticed up by the belly dancer and I got up too. It was a bit of fun. She later returned as a different dancer and proceeded to wiggle her breasts against Mary’s ears and later Bills. He went red and Mary commented that that’s why they call them knockers! After Tea we walked to our Riad Marjana. It is quite exquisite with tiled walls, fountain, and a swimming pool practically in the dining room! The ceiling is elaborately carved. Our senses are on overload.

Prickly pear plants are used as fences in many places and they are everywhere.

This morning Anne and I were first to breakfast -so early in fact that it wasn’t ready! We used the time to share a few photos. Our breakfast was much simpler this morning though we had fresh squeezed orange juice and the traditional crumpet like crepe with labna and honey. The pancake had a smooth side and a holey/bubbly top. They are very light and plain and can be rolled up with labna and honey. There was much discussion about the honey which I thought was something else. It was an orange colour and very thin unlike honey. This is Anne and Ridouane our guide for the whole trip. He told us his sister-in-law died after child birth just before the tour started and his brother cannot look after his children so he and his wife have taken them into their home. Now he has three children. It is what you do because there is no alternative for them. His brother is not strong.

We met our local guide at 9.00 am for a walking tour of this famous blue village. Abdullah was a charming and informative young man. He was passionate about his home town. He explained that Chefchaouen was established in 1471 by Berbers expelled from Andalusian Spain. This spot was geographically central to the three largest towns in the Moroccan kingdom as well as on a trade route for the caravans across North Africa. Many Jewish artisans also came to the town when they were expelled from Spain and they always painted their houses blue. The colour is also used to deter mosquitos apparently!

The winding alleys (almost entirely car free) are often painted completely in blue or shades of blue so they seem to glow like sunlight through water. It was quiet because the shops open later and stay open later at night. We came across a bakery and we went inside to see. I thought it was abandoned because of the timber outside but it was for the bread oven. The baker was very happy to show us his small place and insisted we knead some rolls of dough. Mary used to make bread so she was pretty expert but mine wasn’t so round. Every area has its own baker and small mosque within the city.

Wandering the town was like going back in time. The market was setting up and so we could see the produce. No large stalls but just very small individuals like our farmers markets. They might only have two fat chickens to sell or several bunches of herbs, mint being very popular. It is all organic and local. I wondered how the other shops fared selling more touristy things because not many people seemed to be buying. We bought some post cards and Irene had looked at some from one shop and then went to another but came back. The young man put up his prices and said it was because she hadn’t bought from him in the first place. He said it with a smile, no malice just as if it was expected!

We saw lots of bags of coloured powder which apparently is used for paint. Every spring there is a competition between the areas within the walled city (the old town) when they paint and decorate the walls with murals and flowers.

Many of the doorways were very low. Even I had to bend down to enter. This was to ensure respect to the owner because people were bowing to enter!

After a much needed coffee at a cafe overlooking the river we split up and went our on separate ways. Anne and I followed the alleys and ended up outside the old town. It seemed like we were stepping out of a time warp. We returned to visit the Casbah which had a prison as well as a tower from which we could see the whole town , old and new and the mosque on the hill that we would be visiting at sunset that evening.

In the tower where some information boards one of which had information about the princess who was the commander of the ships in the Mediterranean. We were impressed. Abdullah had been at great pains to impress us that Morocco is a very moderate if conservative Muslim country. Tolerance is encouraged. The women are mostly covered from head to foot but faces are exposed and they work and drive and have educations. Younger women wore more modern clothing but nearly all cover their hair and are very modest.

Ridouane told us he met his wife through Facebook while they were studying and they conversed for three months then met and fell in love. They courted for four years then he asked her father if he could marry her. The parents did not know about how they met or that they were seeing each other. They had kept that quiet. She is a graduate in economics.

That evening we met Abdullah again and made the trek up to the Mosque on the hill to watch the sunset along with a couple of hundred other people only to be disappointed because it was cloudy and the sunset was obscured. We returned to dinner and solved the ‘honey’ mystery at breakfast. It isn’t honey at all but coloured sugar syrup. Honey is very expensive! The Moroccans have a sweet tooth and there are lots of people without teeth.

This morning we needed to be down stairs with our bags by 8.50 am ready for our trip to Rabat and Chechaouen. It was a fabulous breakfast spread but also buzzing with people. Anne and I had come down a little late so it was a scramble to get and choose our breakfast. I tried a type of Moroccon porridge with semolina and delicious soft crumpets with beautiful honey as well as a couple of pastries and fruit.

When we saw the car- 8 seat Mercedes people mover- Ross and Irene were not happy. Ross thought it was too small and the passenger seats faced each other which meant some people were facing backwards to the direction of travel. The driver could not change the seats at that time so we all hopped in and made the best of it. Poor Ridouane was embarrassed but spoke with the company to organise a replacement immediately. However we needed that car so we set off for Rabat which has a very imposing entrance through the Windy Gate that is part of the old wall around the city. When we stopped for a coffee break we went to a charming and elegant cafe where Irene and Anne elected to have mint tea. It was very sweet and served in a traditional teapot.

Refreshed now, and seating adjusted to all face forward, we went off to the Casbah. This is a fortification above the river and beside the beach was built by the French. It had beautiful gardens and also enclosed a Medina ( a village of artisans and quaint residences). The village used blue on many of the doors and walls and had winding cobbled lanes.

The garden of the Casbah was fragrant with orange blossom from orange trees and there were many cats basking in the sun. In fact there are lots of cats everywhere.

From here we went to the kings mausoleum and the unfinished mosque that is guarded by two soldiers on horses. The guards sit atop the horses while the horses stand for one hour. Ridouane said this is a new procedure because previously they were not relieved until thy completed a four hour shift. What agony for man and horse.

We then went off to a restaurant overlooking the sea near the lighthouse. Our lunch was simple but tasty and we were all starving. A quick trip to the ceremonial palace and we were in our way to Chechouan – the blue city.

The guy in white is the message man. All documents or important messages are delivered in person to the king. No emails! The different coloured uniforms represent different types of police force, with the men in red the palace police. Inside the palace grounds is a mosque and a humble village where all the staff live who maintain the grounds, or work in the palace etc.

It was a long drive of five hours to Chechaouen and we passed through the main agricultural areas. We were surprised to see so many farmers with donkeys and carts, as well as horses pulling ploughs and many farm labour using hand tools like scythes. We were also amused by the men in jellabbas which are long gowns with pointed hoods. The looked like wizards.

It was hard to take photos while car was whizzing past so fast!

The last part of the drive was a very winding road over the Riff mountains. I started to feel car sick towards the end but managed to last till the Riad accommodation. We were all very tired and only had a quick wash before going to dinner at 9.00 pm! I couldn’t eat anything but strawberries in honey because i felt my stomach churn even at the aroma of my vegetable tagine. We are still coming to grips with tipping in dirhams and each time we agonise over the appropriate amount. Ridouane suggested a kitty to manage it although Ross and Mary are doing their own thing. A very big day.

Anne and I had a reasonably good flight from Melbourne with only two passengers in our three seat rows. Unfortunately for me the other person in my row hogged the middle seat to sleep, so I was confined to my aisle seat until the next leg when I could spread out.

Arriving in Casablanca was easy and we were met and transported to our hotel. As we were so early we had to wait till 2pm before we could get into our room, so Anne and I went exploring. We found our map somewhat hard to follow because we couldn’t find any of the street names that matched! We did manage to discover the very impressive Cathedral Sacré Cœur, a park and a great supermarket before wending our way back to the hotel. We had been directed to a twin tower mall that was very uninspiring.

We have been surprised that cars can park anywhere, even on pedestrian crossings! Casablanca is very shabby and dirty and though the architecture is very French it is not charming.

Later we connected with Bill and Irene who had arrived a day earlier with Mary and Ross. They had lunched at Rick’s Cafe which was in the film Casablanca. Anne and I decided to go for dinner there despite the fact we were tired from the trip. Ridouane our guide told us to bargain with the taxis and that the price would be double on our return. What cost us 20 to get there was 50 Dirham to return but better than 150, the tourist price!

Ricks was delightful and the food delicious. You could imagine how it was full of intrigue during the war.We were supposed to have a meet and greet but the others didn’t turn up and we couldn’t contact them. The others apparently had a lot of trouble getting taxis back to the hotel so they were late and missed the briefing.

Anne and I were so tired after our trip and walking that we could barely keep our eyes open after dinner and stumbled off to bed.

It has been awhile since I added some posts to this blog. Now I am 6 weeks out from my next adventure to Morocco, Portugal and Jordan.

This trip is a mix of private small group tour (Morocco),unguided but supported walking in Portugal, and a group tour in Jordan. It will be a different experience to travel in this manner. I am going with old friends for part of the trip and meeting new ones in the later stages. The emphasis will be on culture and history rather than a physically energetic trip.

The variety of landscapes, culture and history will make for an exciting and varied holiday. I have updated all my vaccinations since most have lapsed and I am exploring packing options. There are more options this time because I am not backpacking! However I love to travel light, it makes you agile and more flexible which in the end is more enjoyable.

So hello again and I will be keeping my journal while I travel if anyone is interested.

It is cold and sunny here in Melbourne ( today at least). I have found it a bit hard to adjust after the lovely summer I have experienced in France and England, but I must not complain because it is actually winter here and to be expected.

My family was glad to see me ( always reassuring) as were many friends who have called on the phone or emailed to welcome me home. It has been quite busy in fact. The dog was beside himself but has not resumed sleeping on his bed in my bedroom. He sleeps in the dogsitter’s bed! My niece Hazel has allowed him to snuggle up so he isn’t giving up that luxury in a hurry. She has indulged that but not his food, and he has resumed his former sleek body because she has been strict about treats. I am grateful. He is off to be groomed next week so he can see out from his fringe!

My big shock was a speeding fine I incurred prior to my departure. I didn’t know I had one because it was issued a week after I left for France. It was only when I finally faced the pile of mail( most of which was disposable) that I found the final notice.

Next step licence cancellation or wheel clamping! It was midnight by then so I didn’t sleep very easily. However I did contact Fines Victoria the following morning and was granted a stay and chance to prove I was ignorant of the charge because I was out of the country from before I received the ‘plain white envelope’ , which had no indication of its importance, and can produce evidence to that effect.

I very quickly tried to submit my evidence by the online form but it kept crashing; so then I tried ringing and after about 15 minutes the phone was answered. The young woman was very calm and pleasant and reassuring but suggested I print the form and then scan and email. She omitted to tell me what the email address was and once again I could not find it online. To complicate matters my printer has decided not to print. Copy yes but print from computer no! I spent a great portion of the day on this task and decided then to just get it printed elsewhere and hand deliver to the actual office.

How would anyone collecting mail for another know this was important?

It takes awhile to get back into the swing of things here so I made a list. By the end of my list I was thinking that living a nomads life has a lot going for it! A thought popped into my head that was prompted by the memory of a sign I saw on the Chemin St Jacques – Life isn’t complicated. We make it complicated. I think that is going to be my mantra for awhile. Keep it simple.

Hazel my dog sitting niece, sent me a very funny clip about cheap air fares that struck a chord with me. Enjoy. Cheap flights on YouTube

It is the end of the week, I have managed to unpack the bag, do some washing, walk the dog, cook a few meals, deal with my correspondence, start catching up with family and friends, avert a small catastrophe and sleep pretty well most nights. I don’t think I suffered jet lag to notice. I have resumed driving and only once thought , is it this side of the road?!

All is good with the world. I am home and my bed is lovely.

An early start to farewell Emma, then later Monique and Michel drove me to Biarritz Airport. We arrived very early because the French vacationsAn early start to farewell Emma, then later Monique and Michel drove me to Biarritz Airport. We arrived very early because the French vacations have started in earnest and the traffic jams leaving Bordeaux suggested we may be embroiled in heavy traffic. Despite the rain that had started we had a good ride without hold ups at all. This country side and all the road works reminded me of the trip from Surfers to Ballina. They are widening the road to include an extra lane and it seemed so familiar.

My check in was not possible because I was too early but we had coffee and said very emotional goodbyes. They have been so kind and easy to stay with (despite the language).We seem to have a connection that is soul deep. When they left they gave me a long, hard hug and said simply, ‘we love you’. It was enough to bring me to tears. I feel the same. Precious memories, precious friends.

I started to think about the next stage from London and carrying the now despised black bag I used to protect the back pack on the way over. I have accumulated a few more items plus I have a box of gear waiting at the hotel at Heathrow that Andy and Karen held for me which has the camping gear and warmer clothes. My idea was to stick it in the bag with the backpack but it will be heavy and without wheels it is hard to manage. I spy a garish suitcase at the quicksilver shop which is on sale. Because I have my backpack with me I can try it to see if it fits within and it does. I haggle a little and get another 10 % réduction so it is quite reasonable. It is also going to be very easy to find on the baggage carousels! No more boring black or other serviceable colour. It is definitely not cool but then no one will want to take it either! Surfer chic.

Eventually I get to check in and my easyJet booking has no luggage! I knew I had booked luggage but I had no proof and so had to pay up there and then. That App is not to be trusted! Then the plane was late about 40 minutes. I hate the way easyJet gets you all excited about getting on the plane and then keep you penned like cattle at the sale yards for what seems like ages before you actually start boarding.

Arriving at Gatwick, the immigration experience this time was painfully slow and by the time I arrived at baggage collection my bag was one of two left from the flight. However it was instantly recognisable! Finding the National Bus Express to Heathrow was easy and a great option: £27, 1 hour, direct trip. Train options were more expensive with changes and no quicker. By the time I arrived at Heathrow I was tired and just found a cab to the hotel. It was 8 pm instead of 5! I checked in, collected my box from the very chipper concierge and had dinner it was close to 9pm. I ordered a large glass of wine with dinner!

I am so glad I could get a good nights sleep after that day. Next morning I headed off to T2 again on the airport shuttle and arrived early to be met by utter chaos at the bag drop counter. The baggage conveyers had stopped and no bags could be processed! People were milling around all squashed up trying to get their baggage tickets printed before they could enter the queue that went around the whole of section A. One and a half hours later I actually get to a bag drop counter and just as my bag is added to the computer the whole thing stops again!

The poor woman told me to take my bag to the oversized luggage counter because my bag might get forgotten if we left it there. By now my leisurely time preflight was down to boarding time and of course my flight was at the most distant gate which involved two steep escalators, numerous anonymous corridors and moving footpaths before I was spat out into a long hall of boarding gates of which mine was the very last.

The boarding was smooth but once in the plane a communal groan escaped the passengers when the pilot announced we would have to wait an hour on the tarmac because we had lost our take off slot due to the baggage issue. I was longing for that rather efficient Bristol or Toulouse airports by now!

On the upside I discovered I had two very pleasant travelling companions Ben and Ingrid, but I found the seats excruciatingly uncomfortable. At least I am on the aisle but the space is so tiny even for little me. Ben raised the subject of inhuman conditions for travellers which I think has merit. A class action for cramped conditions?

Singapore appeared after 5 movies and a doze. The next flight is on schedule but guess what? It is from the most distant gate again! Well that is fine, I need the exercise after all the sitting. The long walk to the gate.

The joy of flying. Melbourne only a few more hours away.

When I arrive finally in Melbourne it is blowing a gale and the baggage is held up! I am cursed. I eventually retrieved my bag after a jam in the carousel was fixed and waited for Nick in the drive through Pick up. I am glad I thought to put my down jacket on because it is a wet, cold and windy night. Melbourne winter. I am home.