While being in the Sahara is a dream come true, unfortunately we had to leave at some stage so why not do it under a blanket of stars!! The 5.30am BOTB meant brekkie and loading back onto the bus before the sun peaked out and while the stars were out in full force. Unfortunately my iPhone is only so good and doesn’t capture the grandure of stars so this is as good as it gets!!
Having been awake since 3am for no apparent reason, our long bus ride back to Marrakech was mostly snoozing and Netflix. So here’s a picture of my Berber omelette for lunch and I’m gonna skip right onto Marrakech!!
Back in Marrakech we were checked into the same hotel with a pool which I knew this time I wouldn’t miss out on. For the last time this tour, we were BOTB and again into the main square of Marrakech. This time I knew all about the evil cobras and managed to not even look their way!
Abdul showed us around the markets, talking passionately as he does however we were all pretty exhausted, tired from sitting on a bus doing nothing so when it was time for dinner we all followed Abdul to some place where not a single person ordered a tagine, we were most certainly all tagined out!! After dinner it was back to the hotel where it dawned on us that it was the last night as a group so of course we needed a last group pic and time to farewell all our new friends.
You’d of thought it would have been a big night but with early flights for some and the rest of us knackered, we all agreed a last day hanging by the pool would be the best kind of farewell. And, unfortunately at this stage I was as sick AF, the last few days had seen us, one after another, fall sick with some kind of Moroccan cold that creates enough snot to fill the Sahara. The next morning I wasn’t feeling much better so took it easy with a lay in, til 9 cos that’s late now, then enjoyed the buffet brekkie with the others around the pool. While Kyles and a few others who hadn’t caught the bug were energetic and headed back to the market for some shopping, I was more than happy to hang poolside, mop up my snot and enjoy some vitamin D. Ok so there were a few gins too…
Upon Kyles return I was more energetic, or ginned up enough to jump into the gorgeous pool, careful not to spread snot and germs. Never thought a swim with a cold could make you feel better but definitely going to try that in the future! With the afternoon coming to a close, those of us left, we’d been losing people to their home base as the day wore on, headed to the roof to watch our last sunset over Morocco. It was beautiful but at the same time bittersweet, some trips you don’t want to end and this was one of them! And who knew the roof at this place would have been an amazing place to party, ugh!
Kyles and I had decided to stay somewhere more central to the Médina of Marrakech so along with Aleesha, we bid our group farewell, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time we see those amazing people. Into a somewhat dubious taxi, we headed for our riad, since figuring out what one was and hearing we could stay there, we knew we had to. Aleesha dropped us off and headed to hers around the corner. And when I say dropped us off, we literally jumped out on a street corner that was supposedly the location of our riad and looked around in horror, had we been duped by booking.com? Does this riad actually exist??? To our relief, we found our riad door tucked away in an alley and once again entered into a space we did not expect. A beautiful and old but modern riad, complete with an open roof in the centre. Having booked one on the cheaper side due to a lack of cashola, this place was beyond expectation!!
Quick showers and we wandered out into the Médina of Marrakech looking for food, anything but a tagine. Being tired and indecisive we looked to the advice of a local who got chatting to us, and funnily enough within in 5 seconds flat was questioning us as to why we weren’t married!! He meant no insult, to Moroccans it’s confusing how you could be in your 30s and not married, for both men and women. Taking his advice we found a rooftop terrace with an epic view and yummers food, yes it may have been a tourist trap but who cares! The stork on a rooftop a stones throw away gave Kyles the heeby jeebys, she doesn’t like birds but luckily this one was as tired as us and hardly moved a muscle.
Needless to say I was ready for an early night on account of being a sicky and Kylie kindly obliged. The next day, our last in Morocco, we were greeted by one of the most impressive breakfasts, in that you sit at a table and within a jiffy it’s filled with all types of deliciousness, more than 2 people could possibly eat. Well, I could have eaten it all had I not been sick!!!
Having Aleesha staying around the corner we did a quick stop at what I think was a pharmacy for cold and flu tablets then met up to explore the market and finally do some shopping for more than bathes and gin. If you’ve travelled to south east Asia, like Bali, you know half the fun is the bartering. Although, I don’t find it fun but in this case, being sick and broke I was a hard arse and more than happy to walk away if they didn’t agree to my tightarse price, which worked surprisingly well!! Who knew not caring could actually work in your favour?!? A summer dress, salt n pepper set and door knocker later I was pretty damn impressed with my purchases. Having an epic Moroccan sandwich with chicken, liver, capsicum and who the hell knows what else was also amongst one of my better purchases. Wish I had a pic to show you just how good it was!!! In addition to shopping and stuffing our faces, our must do for the day was a hammam, a Turkish spa where they steam you, scrub you, massage you and leave you feeling amazing, apparently! We’d found one earlier amongst the crazy in the markets and made our way back for what was one hell of an experience. In our bathes we robed up and waited on comfy deck chairs with warm tea, not really knowing what to expect. Then it started, we showered then were into the hot steam room, from where one by one we were pulled out and scrubbed all over with horse hair mits (!?!) and lathered in some kind of muddy gel. I’d seen it around the markets, guess that’s what it’s for. Here’s a pic of it from our very first day!!
Lathered up we were then back in the steam room, which at first meant an avalanche of snot for me but then a clear head finally. Once again pulled out one by one, we were laid down and unexpectantly had cold water thrown over us to wash the muddy gel off. Yikes! Yes our skin felt amazing afterwards but wowsers that cold water was a shock!! It was then back into our robes and waiting on our deck chairs while there was the awkwardness as to whether we were supposed to tip the ladies that had just scrubbed off our gunk. The signs said not to so we didn’t, much to their dismay. Breaking the awkwardness, we were led up to the massage area for half hour massages that were bloody good. Yes there were certain areas like my chebs that hadn’t been massaged by another woman before but it was done in a professional way so all good. Unfortunately that’s where the hammam experience ended, we dressed and were once again back in the markets, with these smiles of absolute relaxation on our faces!!!
Unfortunately our time in Morocco was coming to an end, after farewelling the gorgeous Aleesha we made our way to the airport. During the whole time in Morocco, it was obvious they loved their King, there were pictures of him everywhere. It wasn’t until we were going through customs that it dawned on me who he looked like, Lewis Litt from Suits!! Knew the face looked familiar! What do you think??
It was while waiting for our flight I thought I’d better translate the packet of my cold and flu tablets just to be sure what I was taking. You can imagine my surprise to read to was taking anas. Yep, anas. Monkey anas I think. Along with some extract of liver and heart. No real help, all herbs and anus. In the bin they went.
It was certainly sad to leave Morocco, while I went in not knowing what to expect, it was better than anything I could have imagined and I left with memories and friendships I would cherish for a lifetime. As well as a cold that not even anas could help!
Today was the day I knew I’d be pinching myself a million times over, today we were going to the Sahara desert. The bloody Sahara!!!!! Never thought in this lifetime I’d be lucky enough to see the Sahara, something I’d heard of as a child but never thought I’d see for reals. Feel like I need to break into a chorus of thanks to all the people who have given me this wonderful life but they know who they are and hopefully I have thanked them enough! In case I haven’t, THANK YOU!!
Usually a BOTB call for 6.45am would fill me with dread but when you’re Sahara bound, pretty sure I bounced out of bed. Or just wasn’t as grumpy as I usually am!! Brekkie, packed and BOTB to a gorgeous sunrise that unfortunately doesn’t look as pretty out of the window of a bus!
Being desert bound, as expected the countryside got a little less green and a bit more, well, deserty but by gosh, still as beautiful as ever. To keep us entertained, it was once again Abdul the legend up for the act. Now I can’t exactly pinpoint when he became a legend, it was the little things he did like learning our names, his dad jokes, his funny laugh and his Yallah, but mostly it was his passion and love for his country. Having a tour guide who takes pride in showing you his homeland makes a tour one thousand times more enjoyable!! Anyhoo, our first stop on our looooong trip to the desert was a little village that looked like it belonged in Switzerland, not Morocco! A little alpine village that served as Morocco’s ski resort. Yeah I had that screwed up confused face too, Morocco has ski resorts???? Turns out to get to the Sahara you gotta go over the Atlas Mountains and not just one set, gotta go over the Mid Atlas Mountains and the High Atlas Mountains, I guess they couldn’t think of more imaginative names for them?? So our stop in Ifrane, the mountain village introduced us to something new in Morocco, the cold!!! Having been over heated most the trip it was nice to feel the cold mountain air, for about 5 minutes til I was over it and ready for the cosy warm bus again. Explains the lack of pictures…
Quickly BOTB and we quickly left Switzerland behind and was back in desert looking Morocco. Then out of nowhere, the hills started to have Arabic writing on them. Like big enough that if I read Arabic I’d know what it said. I’m still confused how the hell they do that. Abdul explained they did it with wheat but please tell me more, how do they get the letters so big? How do they mark it out? How do they get it so perfect??? If I wasn’t on a plane i’d google it and tell ya…
The legend explained the writing says “God, motherland and King”, very patriotic. Not a message from the aliens as I was starting to think! More gorgeous countryside and it was time for another pit stop. Just a petrol station, no Switzerland this time. They did however have a range of treats not found in the land of kangaroos, like ketchup pepitas and some weird arse flavour of Monster energy drink. Neither were good. Now I mentioned the trip to the desert was long and while I can’t recall how many hours, something like 7 sounds about right. Luckily Morocco has plenty to keep us entertained along the way. Like this pretty dam just in the middle of nowhere, being as beautiful as ever.
And this massive army base just spouting out of the desert again in the middle of nowhere. Maybe it’s where they keep the aliens??
Then my personal favourite, pulling up into a valley of palm trees. The location on my picture says Aoufous, so let’s go with that. This time we managed to get Abdul to star in and join us for a few snaps, gotta put a face to the legendary, wait for it… Abdul. Also managed to have some fun ourselves. Most fun was still had by Abdul who managed to get a piggy back from Aleesha back to the bus!!
At this stage, it was only just hitting lunch time, although somehow we were already three meals in?!? Our lunch stop at a cafe by a pool was lovely and all but we were all just getting antsy for the desert. Sahara where are you already?? I know good things come to those that wait but I’m not well known for my patience!! Finally, Abdul announced that we are close to our hotel that’s rated 1,000 stars. Yeah that’s code for sleeping outside! I was expecting tents pitched, sleeping on the floor, being kinda cold and uncomfortable but being ok with that because it was the bloody Sahara!!! Boy were we all surprised to get to the place where we were “camping”. Air conditioned main lobby, beautiful gardens, pool, WiFi and most importantly, real beds!!! We were glamping to say the least! Proper rooms with walls, they may not have been out of brick but there were walls and doors and real bathrooms and showers. To say that we were all relieved is an understatement!!
Unloading into our “tents” it was a quick change of clothes to ready ourselves for our Sahara camel trek. Yeah I could hardly believe I was doing that either!! In the hotel lobby Abdul and his cohorts helped us wrap our scarfs into turbans then it was out the back of the hotel to meet our rides.
Upon getting to “camp” we’d had a glimpse of the dunes but it wasn’t until we met our camels that the absolute gloriousness of the Sahara desert was upon us. Massive dunes and a blue sky that contrasted with the red sand so beautifully that we were speechless. Well, we were, the camels not so much. They like to chat!! I hadn’t ridden a camel for a while, not sure I can even recall when I last did, only to know that I have and the getting up and down is quite the carnival ride. Kyles of course in her perfect desert outfit did it with grace, I may have yelped…
Now some how I was lucky enough to be at the front of our camel line, if that’s what it’s called, so I could take in all the glory of the Sahara. I really can’t explain in words how beautiful it is only to say you could not wipe the smile off my face and every second was a pinch me moment that I could hardly believe I was lucky enough to behold. Beautiful, glorious, amazing, stunning, wonderful, not enough words to describe.
After trotting along for about an hourish, being quite comfortable I might add, we stopped at our destination to watch the sunset. I thanked Marlboro for lugging me along, couldn’t have been easy!!
Remember the gorgeous sand dunes I mentioned earlier?? The top of one of those was where we could watch the sunset. My unfit meatball body was not ready for the hike up the sand dunes, the worst torture imaginable on unconditioned thighs but like hell I was going to miss watching the sunset over the Sahara!! And by god, running up Everest would have been worth it for these views!
I think you can agree that the desert is so stunning that I’m forgiven for the ridiculous amount of selfies! It was a once in a lifetime (but hopefully not!) experience so there is no way I don’t want all the pictures as memories for when I’m old n grey and in my rocking chair. After having indulged in all the selfies and pics to last a lifetime, while also taking time out to appreciate the sunset and miraculous place we were so lucky enough to be, there was the getting down to deal with. Some chose just to take their chance and run, those of us with shonky knees chose the slow and sturdy way!! Ads was one of the fast arse ones with his Spider-Man legs which meant he was able take a shot of us snails on the way down, there we are!!!
BOM (got that one mum??) and we meandered back to camp as the sun sank into the dunes and the stars came out to delight us. Hands down that was one of the most amazing and memorable experiences of my life. Pretty sure that when life goes to shit in the future, I’ll be able to think of that afternoon in the Sahara and smile like there’s no tomorrow. Still can’t believe I got to do that and once again am grateful to those that helped me find my way to the Sahara!
Back at camp we were all high on the afternoon’s adventures (not the hash), the chatter and laughter amongst the group was infectious. But it was dinner time. After a day eating like a hobbit, I wasn’t overly hungry but the smorgasbord of food meant that of course I ate. I’m Italian, I was born to eat. Also English and born to whinge in case you hadn’t noticed!! Anyway, the yummy food of more than just tagine thank goodness was washed down with gin along with a side of gin… we were all getting into the party mood that night so when the drums around the camp fire started, we were our own tribe dancing around and laughing. I remember a lot of laughing that night, it’ll defs go down as one of the best nights of my life.
Once the band finished up, or escaped, not sure which, we were up to our own devices for entertainment. Of course I had a go on the drums, sounded like crap but who cares, fun is fun!!
All danced out we gathered around to chill and reminisce. Which lasted about 5 minutes before a game of never have I ever started. There may have also been some hash from Chefs going around but what happens on tour stays on tour. Ask me no questions I tell no lies.
The next morning was heaven sent, not only did we have the most memorable previous day but we weren’t required to be human until 10am. For those who over drank, over danced and may have had a little chucky, the late start was a gift. Which literally only lasted until 10am cos then it was into our jeeps for a desert safari. Over hills fast and around quick corners all in sand is exactly what the doctor ordered after a big night…
But somehow the desert air cured all hangovers and at our pit stop in the middle of the Sahara, we were all smiles and once again in amazement at the beauty of the desert.
Special mention to Connor, Amy’s husband and half of the American travel blogging couple who went above and beyond to get the most epic photo. Here’s a video of how and the final pic I stole from their blog!!
Back in our landcruisers, cos they aren’t the same as jeeps, we trekked through the Sahara to a nomad village, one that allows tourists. This family lives on the plains of the Sahara, trekking to the closest town once a week for supplies, but otherwise self sufficient, building their oven in the earth, keeping animals for milk and probs dinner, no electricity and using what the great earth provides them. Now whether these guys actually did all that or were just set up for us tourists, who knows but it sure looked authentic!!!
After having some time to wander around the nomads living area, we gathered in a large tent for Abdul to show us how they make Moroccan tea. All the other places we’d had tea cheated and used a kettle. Here they boiled the water, let it stew, then reboiled and strained it, I think… geez bananas I don’t really remember and I couldn’t take notes while sitting crossed legged in a tent, I’m not like other women, I’m not good at multi tasking. We all got a taste and it was nice but in all honesty, I’ll stick to my western coffee, never have been much of a tea drinker. Back in our cruisers through the desert to our next stop at a renowned musical band. I remember Abdul explained they were quite well known but can’t recall how or why. Of course they got our hips shaking again and the abundance of my chebs meant I was pulled up again to dance, but managed to escape back to my seat to watch the others get into the groove!!
As good as the music was, it was damn hot in the room and not all of us were appreciative of symbols clashing and drums beating given the night we’d had!! I think Abdul got the message and herded us back into our cruisers heading back to camp. Of course it wasn’t just a normal drive back to camp, once again through dunes, past loads of camels and around desert hotels that seemed to spring out of nowhere!!
Back at the hotel and finally, after two non starters, it was pool time. Yes my bathes were overly revealing and I wore a gym top over them but who cares when you’re in cool waters in the middle of the desert. Probs would have jumped in with my pjs on if I had to. And with ice cold beers delivered into our hands while in the pool, it was the place of dreams. Ok I may be over exaggerating but after a hot day cruising the desert, it was pretty damn good. I think we stayed in until our hands and feet looked like 100 year olds then had a quick shower and back into the dunes to watch the sunset over the beautiful Sahara. While waiting for the sun to go down in all its glory, the amazing Emma got her sand surfing skills on, there were drinks and group pics and all the laughing!! Such an awesome group to hang out with!
Another dinner and more dancing around the fire, although not as epic as the night before, bit more low key but still awesome fun all the same!! With an earlyish bedtime, I laid in bed being grateful to be in one of the most beautiful places on earth with such an amazing group of people, it really did feel like a dream. Still does when I think back on it.
With such an awesome group of people to tour Morocco with, of course there was someone, the amazing Laura, with a decent amount of yoga experience to take us through an early morning class. With a 5 hour bus journey this afternoon to Fes, we needed to get moving now before falling into our bus slumber. After searching high and low, quite literally, we checked the roof, we found a landing on one of the floors for about 10 of us to move through some poses. Having discovered an amazing view from the roof we headed back for a few snaps…
Geez it felt good to stretch more than just my arm to a glass of gin. Stretched and prettied up, we were once again heading for the blue city with Abdul giving us free time to roam and take selfies to our hearts content. While the day before I had planned to trek to the Spanish Church, I decided that instead I wanted to explore the city some more, yesterday’s brief visit didn’t feel nearly enough. While Kyles and Ads headed off with the others I was on my lonesome to explore. Well, you’re never really alone here, there’s usually at least 5 cats within arms reach to keep you company! And anyway, I’m not someone that can be around people 24/7, I need alone time and space to think. Not that I got much deep thinking done beyond “Aww what a cute little kitty” and “wow, that’s blue!”. Chefchouen certainly is one of the most prettiest cities I’ve ever gotten lost in, fancy blue doors, ornate knockers, some real some fake, and floor to ceiling blue walls that look more like they’d been carved out of stone than built. And did I mention the kitties?? I was in cat heaven, or maybe it was an insight into my future, alone and surrounded by cats?? Eeek, tried not to think a out that one too much!!
And yes, I did overload on the selfies. If there was ever a time to take a picture with a gorgeous backdrop, the time was nigh. Also did some selfie videos because I’m a Leo, I’m vain. Deal with it.
Having agreed to meet Kylie and her pack in the square at midday to get lunch, I was kinda stood up. Well not kinda, really was. During my wait, I got offered henna (henna not hash mum!) so thought why not?? Abdul had warned us to only to get the green one as the black can get itchy. I thought I’d asked for the green one, but obvs didn’t…
Lucky for me, henna’d and still waiting, Hamish from the tour spotted me looking like a loser and took me up to where some others from the group were having lunch. Let me tell you, getting stood up does not suck when you end up having delicious kofta and hummus with a yummy date and orange blossom smoothie as well as these views…
On the way back to lunch we ran into Kyles and her crew having a quick bite to eat so gathered them and were BOTB for our 5 hour trek to Fes. Here’s some more pics of the blue city to keep you entertained for 5 hours…
Of course we also had the awesome Abdul to keep us entertained, well me anyway, I may have been the only one listening to him went he went into fact mode again! Importantly, he explained the litter and why it was strewn through some of the country towns. Apparently there are no government programs in country towns to collect rubbish so it just gets left out in a pile somewhere, up to the elements of nature to blow it around. Shit, garbage collection was something I have definitely taken for granted! What the Governmwnt does do well is education, all school is free, even university including masters and doctorates. And if you’re poor or live far from a school, the government has places where you can board and eat for free. That’s whole next level making education a priority! Round of applause for Morocco and keep you hands clapping for their taxes, you only pay between 0 – 20% depending on what you earn, if you’re a teacher the max you pay is 11% and if you work the land than you pay none. Impressive. Abdul’s banter was only interrupted by the site of a van carrying about 15 dudes, one just sitting on the tow bar holding on. I guess not everything is perfect here.
Pulling into Fes, Abdul was just as tired as us so the brief on Fes was short, or I was being a bad student and not listening. So Fes has a population of 1.6 million people and the name means axe in Arabic. Also has the oldest Médina in Morocco and is home to the very first university opened in the world, opening in 859 by a lady called Fatima. Finally at the hotel in Fes and geez bananas, it’s like a resort, probs only a 3 star one but has a massive pool, deck chairs and looks like it would have been fancy, in the 70s. After a short chill by the pool because I still didn’t have bathes, it was then a quick outfit change before running out the door to a traditional Berber dinner of dancing, food, performers, all the bells and whistles. I had my favourite dress saved for the night, too bad as I was running out the door I couldn’t find my sandals so had to wear my tiger sneakers, pretty dress and sneakers, classy. At the dinner we were ushered to a table at the front, I should have known better than to sit so close to the stage… not only did I get pulled up the first time when they wanted drummers, but also the second time when just one person from the crowd had to belly dance… lucky for me there was plenty of wine so some how had the balls to dance on stage… sober Holly is embarrassed….
Lucky for me I wasn’t the only one to be picked on, Josh and his gorgeous girlfriend Katherine were whisked away to take part in we didn’t know what… by the end we still didn’t know what they had done, it’s highly possible they are now married….
What a brilliant night it was, amazing food, a little too much wine, shaking those hips and great company. Some dude wanted to take me home and give me sweets, luckily it was just a mate of Abdul’s pulling a prank, I think.
Needless to say the next day we were all a little worse for wear. Must remember there will now always be video evidence. Anyhoo, no time for hangover temple although when Abdul joked that the M of McDonalds actually stands for Morocco, all I wanted to do was curl up in a bed of French fries and cheeseburgers. Pretty sure I wasn’t the only one. But no time for hangovers on tour, it was off the bus for our tour of the Fes Médina, the oldest in the world remember? The Médina tour guide was called Mohammed, apparently the most common name in the world. He had a wicked sense of humour, had some long joke about mother in laws I wish I could remember but all I could still think about was McDonalds. Didn’t help the doors we were at looked like golden arches, could not get maccas out of my head!!
I did remember from Mohammed’s spill that there were 5 things every Médina in Morocco has, a Mosque, a bakery, a Quranic school, somewhere to wash before prayer and… nope, can’t recall the last one and google is being no help. Did also find out that a Riad means a house with a garden, neat. After the Golden Arches we wandered back to the bus and noticed something strange, what the F are those things perched on top of the buildings?
Stalks. Yep, those big arse birds that are supposed to deliver babies, these ones were obvs having a day off!! We were BOTB and headed to a fort, if there’s one thing that makes hangry Holly happy, it’s a fort! For some reason you couldn’t go into the fort, just check out the views of Fes. Yes they were gorgeous but I would have loved to see inside the fort. First I got teased with the Maccas and then the fort…
From the fort it was onto the Poterie de Fes, a massive mosaic place/shop/factory. Nothing like a distraction to get my mind off Maccas and the fort. And it was one hell of a good distraction, beautiful tiles hand cut into shapes and stuck onto absolutely everything, tables, mirrors, fountains, you name it. And all done by hand, dudes with tiny little chisels cutting the tiles, other dudes creating the patterns, others making pottery, others hand painting things. All hand made, if only I had the cashola to ship a tonne to AUS!!
Wandering through the Médina, you could feel the old, but not in a bad way. Gorgeous old windy alleys, donkeys in the streets, cute little streams running through and tiny door ways leading who knows where. And a beautiful markets full of colorful food, beautiful dresses, furniture I would love to buy a load of and lots of dead things, heads especially!
The people around the market were super friendly, every time Liam walked past there were shouts of “Ali Baba” and when asked where we were from and said Australia, we got “Aussie Aussie Aussie” with a massive smile. Although our stomaches were grumbling, our before lunch stop was at the local, uh, scarf maker?? What are people called that make lots of scarfs with those old loom things?? Words aren’t working for me right now. Anyhoo, the owner talked us through all the different types of scarfs, allowing us to feel the different fabrics. One felt like absolute heaven, wanted to curl up in it with my Maccas.
A few purchases later and a wander through the belly dancing outfits and we were all bordering on hangry, well, I was already there. With Mohammed on a mission to take us to lunch we were all a little dubious when he led us through one of those said tiny doors. Did not expect it to open up into this!!!!
Not only did we have lunch in one of the most gorgeous spots, but the pastilla was top notch, if only it came with a side of fries! Fed and feeling nearly human again, we were off to the tannery. It was as we approached and there was a whiff of something dead in the air, I remembered the warning, the place is supposed to absolutely reek. And yep, whoever told me that was right. The place smelt like dead meat that’s rotting… guess that’s kinda what leather is, except it’s the skin… lucky the place is pretty, and they do give you mint to shove up your nose to help with the smell…
Of course, the smell was forgiven when we saw their stash of shoes, handbags, jackets and all the amazing leather goods for sale. If I had a job to go back to I probably would have emptied my bank account on all the beautiful things but being broke and homeless, I just bought a gorgeous pair of slides. Luckily we got out of there before we could cause our bank accounts too much damage, it was BOTB and the brilliant Abdul was taking us to a shopping center to stock up on grog and snacks for our epic desert adventure to kick off the next day. For Kyles and I, we were once again on a different mission, mission bathes!!! The desert had a pool and there was no way we were gonna miss out for the third time! We scoured the mall like crazy people, in and out of every shop until an accessories shop had three pairs, two in our size so that made the decision easy!! Onto snacks and booze, ending up with enough to get a small army fed and smashed. But in half hour flat it was mission accomplished and we unloaded our two trolleys full onto the bus… may have over-ginned if that’s even possible!
Back to the hotel and it was onto our second mission, tickets for Glastonbury! At 6pm on the dot Kyles and I were frantically trying to buy tickets for us and a crew back in AUS but it turned out to be mission impossible. Sad face. Onto the next mission cos that’s what we do. Mission pharmacy and food which required a wander up the street, around a corner, up another street and winning, drugs and pizza in nearly a two hour trek…. oops, left Ads waiting for us at the hotel, hope we wasn’t hungry!! After stuffing our faces in Kyles and Ads room, we called it a night before the beers came out, well I did anyway! With the remenants of a hangover still hanging around and the Sahara beckoning the next day, I desperately needed sleep!!
With a 7.30am BOTB scheduled, you’d think I would have slept in as much as I could, that’s what I do, but for some reason the idea of being near a beautiful beach and not having dipped my feet in the water was all the wake up call I needed. Packed in a jiffy and I wandered down to the beach in near darkness thinking an early morning stroll before brekkie would be just what my meatball body needed. Unfortunately about 150m from the hotel there seemed to be some shady characters lurking in the shadows. In all honesty, there probs was no lurking or shady but my mum’s voice in my head about being safe sent me packing back to the hotel. For the two seconds I was there, it was so pretty!
After a carb overload at brekkie, Kyles was keen for a beach walk thank goodness, between us we’d be able to kick the arse of any lurkers. Of course lurkers were just in my imagination, the beach was beautiful, even before sunrise and made me start to wonder that if the deserts of Morocco were as stunning as the beaches, then maybe this country had it all?? Certainly has all the meatballs…
BOTB for an upcoming 6 hours of bus time in the day, we were lucky enough to at least see the sunrise while we questioned why we weren’t smart enough to download all the Netflix shows the night before. Abdul of course provided us with some entertainment with aussie dude Liam renamed Ali Baba on account of his epic beard, and the James Spader look alike Josh renames Mohammed, none of us were really sure why on that one. Abdul also introduced some Berber/Arabic words, like Shukran, meaning thank you. For some reason it sounded like the word chocolate to me, guess you had to be there. After such a lush beach backdrop it was onto the Morocco I expected, desert for miles, but pretty desert with trees and hills, or maybe it was just countryside?? It definitely felt like a step back in time either way, people making their way around with horse and cart, possibly they were donkies, they wizzed by so fast I’m not completely sure.
With the first half of our 6 hour leg down, it was time for lunch and what better setting than the beautiful Casablanca beach. Now, leading up to the trip, I’d heard of the movie Casablanca but had heard from a few peeps that the place itself was something of a shit hole, not really worth the pit stop. But I think I’d have to disagree. Yes it was obvs set up for tourists but the beach itself was pretty gorgeous, maybe I just love all beaches and could never diss one but I’ll just let the pictures speak for themselves.
After stuffing our faces with salad, cos the salads in Morocco are ginormous and yes you do stuff your face, we went for a quick wander up the foreshore with the 10 spare minutes we had then legged in back to the bus to head for the mosque which we’d heard was kinda big. Big is an understatement of the century. And to say it’s beautiful is another understatement. Don’t know how to describe it but to say it’s one of the most beautiful buildings I’ve seen in my life. Completely different to the cathedrals of the European countries, elegant design on the outside than absolute opulence on the inside. There’s something about the shape of the arches and doorways that I love, and the contrasting colours of the blues and greens set against the sandstone, just stunning and not the Morocco I expected!
Having found the previous day a dress that covers all the things while not sweating me to death, the only requirement to enter the mosque was shoes off. After sweltering outside, the cool marble floor on our feet was more than welcome. As were the bags provided to carry our stinkin shoes, someone had their thinking caps on for that one. The Mosque is actually called the Hassan II Mosque, the King who commissioned it to be the biggest and most grand building in Morocco. Cos that’s what makes a good King, have a massive building named after you, not like, taking care of your people and creating prosperity and equality for all. Anyhoo, Mr Hassan got his wish and it ended up being the largest Mosque in Africa and the third largest in the world. When it cost a whopping $600 – $800 million USD to build, you’d certainly hope so. The King didn’t have all that cashola himself so Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and Dubai spotted him, he obvs didn’t listen to his mother, if you can’t afford it, you don’t need it. Besides the money thing and do you really “need” a big arse Mosque, the fact that all the building materials were sourced in Morocco is pretty impressive. Well, except the Venetian glass and white marble which came from Italy but guess they don’t have those things in Morocco. And second most impressively (that’s a word right?) is that the white marble columns are natural humidifiers, somehow the marble absorbs the humidity in the air. For reals. And third most impressively, this place fits 25,000 people inside and 85,000 outside in the square. Sure women have to use the upstairs platforms to worship but it’s a matter of custom, at lest they are allowed in. Ok, so now for the most impressive of the impressively’s (defs not a word), the roof opens!!!! I kid you not, the place has a retractable roof, just like a football or tennis stadium. So worshippers can be closer to god, no wait, so they can have all the elements present when worshipping I think? There were these water well things in there too so I think it has something to do with that. So apparently with all these impressively’s it took 6 years to build, with people work ing 24/7 in 3 shifts. That’s some epic project management! The inside though, just wow upon wow and all the impressively’s in the world!! Unfortunately in discussing the impressively’s I think I swore, probs going to hell..
So in learning some more about the Muslim religion from our Mosque tour hostess, she talked about the importance of being clean before you pray. Given they pray five times a day, that’s a lotta cleaning. I think she saw our confused faces so she explained that it’s ok to just wash your hands before praying, however if praying at this super impressive mosque, the whole bottom floor is dedicated to these water features where people can clean themselves. I know water features is NOT the right name but seriously can’t remember and no idea what to google to find out. They look a little something like this…
Back outside the Mosque we wandered through a museum but as far as museums go, eh. After a super impressive Mosque, not much could impress. That Mosque was so damn impressive it deserves a million more pics…
BOTB and Abdul got his google on again with some more tantalizing info about Moroccan customs. And I’m not being sarcastic, really love this stuff!! So the current King, Mohammed IV is newly single, hot gossip in Morocco! The goss is that he’s divorcing his wife, who has been missing from public duties of late. Hmm, single King, single Holly… yeah, not Muslim otherwise i’m sure I’d be in with a chance!?! And more impressively than the Mosque, Morocco is a democracy, well, as close as possible. The people elect the parliament and the King chooses the Prime Minister from the winning party. And most super impressively, and maybe I naively didn’t expect, theres decent equality for women in Morocco. Women are entitled to do all jobs with the exception of the call to prayer, religious thing so understandable, and females can’t be King or Prime Minister. For the King bit, if they have only daughters, then he chooses another male in the dynasty to take the reins. The King thing I get, the UK line of succession has only recently been updated to be more 21st century but the PM thing, not so sure about. Maybe in time things might change, maybe. There are plenty of other countries with lots of work to do to get to their standards, and for an African nation, I think that’s impressive. Luckily it wasn’t far to the hotel, otherwise my head would have gone into overload! Once there it was the usual checkin and poor Aleesha was defs stuck with me. A couple of coldies later we were BOTB yet again and headed for the market area of Casablanca and around the city. This was when I began to understand the blah about Casablanca, it was pretty dodgy if I’m honest!! Luckily though it’s got all the great western offerings like KFC, which made for a loo dash, all that water goes straight through ya… sorry, too much info!
Abdul once again did good and took us to a local for a dinner of, you guessed it, tagine! Yes there was pasta and other western things on the menu but when in Morocco! I sure as hell won’t be able to figure out how to cook a tagine once I get home, although really wish I could, they are kinda one pot wonders and that’s my specialty. After once again feeling like a stuffed meatball we were BOTB to the hotel where straight to bed is never an option so we gave the bar some business and ate Toblerone, those three humongous ones I somehow managed to snag in duty free on our gin fueled run for the plane. If left with me I’d be a chocolate covered meatball before too long so happy to share. It was over toblerone and gin that Josh learnt about his doppelgänger, although when I said James Spader he had no idea who he was, these young ones… of course we got our google on and a young Spader next to Josh was uncanny. If only I took a pic… here’s Josh tho, what do ya think??
Once again the 7am BOTB meant no time to play, just sleep before another long arse bus ride. BTW, a 7am BOTB is when the bus departs, before that showers and brekkie is required so I’m not quite the granny you think!!
Up and BOTB at 7am, it was onto Rabat, the capital of Morocco. To me, the name just sounds like Rabbit said real fast but I think it’s just my lack of concentration so early in the morning, my brain doesn’t function until at least 10am. Only an hourish later and we were pulling into what I’m calling the Rabat warren, the place was crazy! Four lane roundabouts and police having to direct traffic everywhere cos people were nuts. At least the officers looked damn good doing it, check this chick out:
Our first stop in the warren was the unfinished mosque and museum of King Mohammed V. You rock up to the place and it’s pretty impressive with the royal guard on horses, not sure exactly what they are protecting but certainly wouldn’t wanna mess with these dudes!
Abdul ushered us past the guard and into the mosque grounds, he didn’t need to explain what was meant by unfinished…
The plan was for the mosque to have 253 columns to represent the days of the Muslim lunar calendar, but they only made it to 80 something I think. Didn’t quite listen to everything Abdul said, too busy looking and I can’t do both so had to ask Wikipedia for some help… apparently some dude called Yusuf Yaqub al-Mansur, member of the Almohad Caliphate, a Berber Muslim empirecommissioned a tower that was intended to be the largest minaret in the world along with the mosque, also intended to be the world’s largest. Again, why do men measure their worth by building the biggest something?? Anyhoo, when the dude died in 1199, construction stopped. But now I get why the guards are here, I tuned into Abdul again once he started talking about the Mausoleum of King Mohammed V, a King is buried here, makes sense. Never been so close to a King before, dead or alive. This King was so important because he kicked arse and worked hard for the independence of Morocco, he was their Nelson Mandela. This dude I would have liked. Heading to the Mausoleum, the site is stunning, even unfinished. Can hardly imagine how magnificent it would have been. The Mausoleum once again had the stern looking guards, and inside a man chanting the Quran so no talking, pictures ok but no flash. Have to say, there is something about the Arabic/Berber language I think sounds so beautiful. Especially when sung. Might have to get some Arabic music on my playlist. The Mausoleum was beautiful inside, as expected, and strangely, had a feeling of power and grace. Probs makes no sense to others but you certainly felt moved and privileged to be there.
Once exited and a million more pictures of the site later, it was a quick pit stop in the loo before it was BOTB. That was when I realised my sin. The pretty long sleeve red dress I was wearing, perfect for Florence, not so much Morocco, was lined in the bottom half, but quite see through in the top half. Faaaaark. Hadn’t even looked in the mirror properly until then, pretty sure I got ready with my eyes shut. Needless to say the colour of my face was the same as my dress. Felt like I had completely disrespected the sanctity of the Mausoleum and get why the guards looked so angry. Wish someone had told me but anyhoo. Abdul was nice enough to let me get my bag from underneath the bus to find a top for underneath the dress. Have to say I was quite sheepish for the next few hours. But mistakes happen so I put my embarrassment aside and onto the Médina of Rabat where we had another lovely tour guide join us, this time I got his name, Yusuf, just like the dude with the unfinished mosque. Yusuf was a character too, love the Moroccan sense of humour. He toured us through a place I’m gonna call a fort, looked like one but is actually a Kasbah, I know what you’re thinking.. “Rock the Kasbah, rock the Kasbah…”, that was stuck in all our heads and may have made it out loud more than once.
This Kasbah of the Udayas as Google tells me is like a keep, every Moroccan city has one. Keep, fort, same same, both have a defensive wall. And just for the record, the song Rock the Casbah by The Clash is about the ban of Western Rock music by an Arab King, kinda feel like it was written for our trip though. Must stop relying on Google for my blogs… Anyhoo, as I love a fort, I love me a Kasbah. Old bricked paths that twist and turn, so much so that we kinda got lost. About 8 of us too busy singing I think and lost sight of Abdul. Ooopsy. But being lost is fun, you walk real fast so see more. And also stop for silly pictures!!
Turns out that in a Kasbah all roads lead to the same place and we managed to find Abdul. Or he managed to find us, same same. Yusuf relieved our stress heads with a story of why cats are his best friends and have his phone number. Long story and the adrenalin was still pumping so don’t remember it all, just the punchline. Cats found a massive treasure in a house once, so now everyone loves cats. Explains why there’s a zillion of them everywhere you look. Wandering around and taking in the pretty, we emerged into a Kasbah oasis. A beautiful lush green garden surrounded by the pink walls of the Kasbah, awww, Rabat you’re so pretty!! I take back the quip about you being a warren.
Never been so relieved to be BOTB and thankful for Amy’s Dad joke as we passed by a gorgeous cemetery… How many dead people are in the cemetery? All of them!!! Haha, my kind of humour. Miss my Dad!! Heading further into Rabat, we’re told it’s the city of green. All the roofs have green tiles which is pretty but have to admit, I like the look of Marrakech better. Abdul also explains the colours of the Moroccan flag, green is the colour of the Arab, red the colour of the Berber and white means peace. Ahh, also get the colours of the cities now too. And the star on the flag has 5 points to represent the 5 pillars of Islam. May have mentioned that before but so many things in my head I’m not sure. Next stop is the Palace of the King, an alive one this time. Apparently the dude even lives here so we’re not allowed in to get our tourist on, just allowed a token snap by the gates. But have to say, as the bus drove into said gate, wowsers. The gardens and site is immaculate. Understandable given 500 people work there as Abdul the Google tells us, and is set over 5 acres, apparently there’s a Necropolis of Roman ruins in there too but we’re not royal enough to see it.
“Yallah”, let’s go!! That’s now how Abdul herds us back on the bus, don’t mind being herded though when it comes with a smile and a pat on the back as we get on the bus like his little herd of stray cats. And now, we’re bound for Chefchaouen, the blue city and source of a zillion Instagram snaps. Even has its very own Instagram alley. Literally a spot designated for the best pics for Instagram. For a city so famous, it’s name is kinda hard to say. To me it’s like Chef-shh-ow-en, but that’s in my Aussie bogan, when Abdul says the name is sounds so much more pretty! With a four hour trip ahead of us, it’s lucky Morocco is so damn pretty, and that everyone was smart enough to download from Netflix for this leg of the trip. Of course, Abdul being an awesome guide and passionate about his country downloaded his Google pages about Morocco and the blue city, which I’ll just call it cos it’s real name is too hard to spell right every time. As we’re now well and truly in outback Morocco, we’re told that there’s 25 different types of scorpions in Morocco, nice to know considering we’re due to spend two nights in the desert shortly. But relief, there’s no Cobra’s in the desert, just in the mountains. FFS, we’re literally snaking our way through the mountains on the way to be blue city (like my pun? Snaking? I know, you’re not funny if you have to explain your jokes!) More animal facts, Morocco used to have Lions, until 1964 when us humans slaughtered so many there’s none left in the wild. Damn humans. There are plenty of Camels left in the wild though, although they are camels with only one hump so called a dromedary, the ones with two humps are in Saudi. Onto my favourite subject, food!! As we already know, they love their tagines and pastilla in Morocco, and they also love their couscous and cows feet. Yeah one of them I won’t be trying. They are also keen on tea with mint although Abdul warned against drinking the “water of life” from figs, apparently one glass will knock you out for days and you won’t remember a thing. Probs not something to tell a bus full of aussies but anyway. This was when Abdul left us all speechless by telling us that as per his Muslim beliefs, he has never tried beer, wine, cigarettes or hash. Dude is clean as a whistle. I wonder if he knows about gin?? Onto more facts, cos this nerd certainly hasn’t had enough! The national sport of course is football, well, soccer if we’re talking Aussie. Second most popular, marathon running. Did not expect that! Done with the talking, we were left to enjoy the countryside and/or do our own marathons, the Netflix variety. Taking some time to look out the window rather than binge, Morocco is certainly beautiful, a countryside of donkeys, goats and olive trees but in all honesty, some parts look quite poor and run down. There is quite a lot of rubbish on the streets in some towns we pass through. But people have a simple life out here, they live off and work the land. They don’t have to worry about careers and those things we rate as first world problems. The shrink wannabe in me wonders if they are happier, I’m sure there’s a study that says so.
Nearing the blue city, Abdul gets his google on again for our intro to Chefchauoen. Just gonna spell it wrong! So the place is known for being blue, got that, but also well known for its goats cheese, olive oil and hash. Hash as in pot, but stronger and kinda illegal but ok to buy if you wanna smoke it. Not sure how that works but ok. Apparently as a dude, you’ll get offered it by every second person but the chicks not so much, it’s a respect thing. Nice to know. To say the blue city sticks out like a sore thumb is an understatement. The countryside is all red soil with green, green, green then there’s the big spot of blue on the hillside, looks a little something like this:
Pretty damn gorgeous if you ask me, I expected blue but not so blue, makes no sense at all I know but the size and blueness is more than I expected. I’ll let that one go. Jumping off the bus in Chefs (which I’ll now call it) and we’re immediately greeted by pretty rainbow stairs, guess they know how to do tourist.
It’s a short walk up the road and through the square until we’re surrounded by blue. And yes, a chorus of “I’m blue da ba dee da ba daa” started in my head and wasn’t going anywhere!! Really am showing my age! Abdul took us on a brief tour through the city, stopping at Instagram Alley for a group shot before letting us loose! Then it was blue upon blue upon blue…
There was the option of a hike up to the hill/mountain to the Spanish Church, a feat some of us preferred to save for the next day. Instead we wandered the blue city, finding the dude who for 5 bucks would let you use his blue as blue can be room for snaps. Needless to say us Insta hungry crazies took part, some good shots but I’m not much of a poser so felt like a knob!!
With sunset beckoning, we tried to grab a quick dinner then head up the hill a little ways to watch. Unfortunately our “quick” shawarmas took 40 minutes and we literally ran to a spot with a view for what was a magical sunset over the blue city. As you guessed it, there were a zillion upon zillion pictures, this place is just so pretty you almost can’t help yourself!!
Well and truly touristed out for the day, we did what aussies do best, found beer!! Of course being a massive tourist attraction, they had a pub and we swarmed like bees to honey. And once again, free food! A zillion plates of hot chips as freebies, Moroccans certainly give Italians a run for their money on feeding people!
Fed and watered we were BOTB and pretty happy so when Abdul started playing some background music it turned into a full blown karaoke session with the likes of Toto Africa (of course), Shakira, Hakuna Matata, ABBA and some Brittany and Bieber thrown in for good measure. But of course the track that got everyone Mo-rockin was Bohemian Rhapsody!
Back at the hotel we were either tired or sheepish about our singing antics, either way it was bed time and more beauty sleep ready for more Insta snaps in Chefs the next day.
So remember how the night before Sean and I were dancing around the living room like crazy people and singing ABBA songs… yeah well when Kylie came into my room at 8.30am in a panic cos we had to leave for the airport in an hour, pretty sure my blood was still 90% gin. Made the packing and getting ready real fun. Quick shower, closed my bag on what I’d half packed the night before and was off. What a surprise packet my bag of clothes turned out to be!!
It would have been a saving grace had Kylie not had a massive night out also, but like me, she was also still half cut. How we made it to the airport I have no idea. Do recall the loud random conversations we were having on the train to Gatwick about saggy undies and our mums, surely the other passengers would have been entertained no??
Maybe we should be drunk for trips to the airport more often, the tube and train felt like only a 5 minute ride, we managed to checkin and pass through security in a nano second and Nando’s appeared out of thin air to feed our drunk bordering on hung over selves. So, people in London are obsessed with Nando’s, they have massive Nando’s restaurants and people rave about it like its heaven sent. For my first Nando’s experience which was served 15 minutes before boarding, it was kinda spesh, but in all honesty, all food tastes amaze balls when it’s 3am and you’ve drank too much… except it was 1pm… Anyhoo, a burger and fries with a hundred condiments and 5 glasses of Pepsi later, we legged it, and this time I really mean legged it as in running/hobbling, we managed to board our train in our inebriated state… except it was a plane, really had no idea at the time. All I know is that 2 hours into our flight to Morocco and our hangovers kicked in… not enough crap plane food and European doses of Ibuprofen in the world to help with that…
Lucky for us we had the gorgeous Moroccan landscape to distract us from our hangovers, so much more green than I ever could have imagined, had to blink a few times to make sure it wasn’t the gin messing with my eyes… Nope, Morocco from the sky really does look like this…
Landing in Morocco, we were super aware that we were two young (haha) blonde women landing in a Muslim country where we needed to respect their cultural beliefs. And thank F we did because had I walked through the 500 levels of security in a skirt I would have been a little worried. Pretty sure our passports were checked 10 times, bags scanned 20 times and looked up and down about 100… but all good, we were through and both on African soil for the first time ever. And wowsers, did not expect such a fancy pants airport, certainly made the RADelaide airport look like a tin shed!!
Remember how I mentioned we were being respectful of the culture?? What that meant was long sleeved tops and pants, so you can imagine the piles of sweat we turned into when we stepped out the airport into 39 degree heat… pretty sure I sweated out the gin and the Nando’s while we waited for our guide to collect the other travelers and deliver us to an air conditioned van. Feel overheated just thinking about it, defs no selfies from that part of the trip!! Once at the hotel, we found Adam Tancbesakoatovsov, our third musketeer and most importantly found a freezing cold thirst quenching beer, never has a beer tasted so good. It even stars in its own picture…
A few beers later, with some hotel checkin happening somewhere along the way, and we all gathered for our Travel Talk tour meeting. Here we met Abdul, our tour guide, who at this point was not yet at his soon to be legend status, and also met the rest of the tour group. Of the 26 people, there were 6 Americans and the rest were bloody aussies!!! Nothing wrong with aussies, just didn’t come to Africa to only meet Aussies, I swear there’s more of us overseas than what’s left in Australia! Abdul gave us a run down of each and every day’s activities, well at least I think he did, spent the whole session squinting at him like it’d help me try work out what the hell he was saying… what I did fathom was dinner, the Holster never misses a mention of food. Onto the bus, which would be our fourth musketeer for our adventure and off we were into the heart of Marrakech. When you’re hungover, sweaty and a wee bit jet lagged, food is life and I would have eaten a dirty street pie at that stage… lucky for me, I got a chicken pie instead, called a pastilla in Morocco, one of their traditional dishes of chicken, pistachio, cinnamon and other spices all wrapped in a light pastry, sounds weird, tastes weird but also so so good!!!! Looks a little something like this…
Unfortunately for us, there was no cold, delicious, mouth watering beer to enjoy with dinner, Muslim country remember!! Maybe this place would help me curb my gin addiction… may replace it with a pastilla addiction… With the tour crew all tangine and pastilla’d out, we headed back to our hotel and upon the suggestion of one of the group, possibly me, we gathered for a quick drink by the pool. One beer turned into three, maybe four and before long we were all besties and like we’d know each other longer than mere hours. It was on the walk back to my room I had the feeling that this was going to be one hell of a trip, a gorgeous country and one hell of an awesome group to tour it with!! Poor Aleesha, my new roomie, got a taste of the trip to come, trying to get an early night and having to put up with me coming in at 1am, lucky she’s an awesome gorgeous girl and had no complaints, I think… It was at this stage I got the first of many surprises from my packing, wet PJs, guess they weren’t dry when I grabbed them off the line while legging it out the house, oops.
Pretty much the only thing I don’t like about organised tours, besides hours on the bus, and being told what to do, and packing every day, like I said, pretty much the only thing, is the wake up calls. I’m not a morning person so every day having to be up at stupid o’clock and onto the bus for 8.30am is like having to be at work again… sorry, here I am whinging again when I literally am living the best life… anyhoo, the wake up call wasn’t my only problem on the first morning, the fact I’d only repacked the pretty dresses from my Florence trip meant I looked like I was going out for a night on the town every day… Luckily the strict dress code I’d been abiding so far wasn’t so strict, otherwise I had one pair of jeans and one top from our sweaty plane ride to last me 10 days, double oops.
Our bus into the Médina of Marrakech was my first glimpse of the real Morocco, was too sweaty and hung over to notice a single thing on the trip from the airport the previous day! What I saw, I didn’t expect, I saw green… green trees, green grass, so much green! Had it in my head Morocco was desert like, given one of the days we’d be heading to the Sahara. To my amazement, the city of Marrakech is anything but desert, grass along the roads, flower beds everywhere, palm trees and gorgeous mosques of white, blue, turquoise, orange and so many more colours, really should have got my google on before heading over.
For the tour of the Médina, guide duties were taken over by, um, uh, can’t remember his name, let’s just call him Abdul 2.0 cos as Abdul 1.0 told us, there’s 99 names in Morocco starting with Abdul, which means service of god so why wouldn’t ya want to be called that? So Abdul 2.0 was a small smiley man, in traditional white Moroccan robes, and an Adidas cap, quite the contrast!
The Médina of Marrkech is something else, spices of every colour, beautiful door arches, bright pink walls and cats, little kitty cats everywhere!! Not to mention a 20km gorgeous sand stone wall surrounding the city… we all know walls do more harm than good but I’ll give this one a pass since it’s now just a pretty object, with no intent of harm, possibly not when it was built though… might have to google that one!
Of course the BEST thing about tours is all the tidbits of information from the guides that not even google would care to share… Like the cities of Fes, Marrakech and Rabat have all had turns being the capital of Morocco, Rabat currently holds the title, and all the cities have a different colour, Marrakech is red, although I’d call it a dark pink. Since we’re going to the other two cities, guess I’ll find out what their colours are. And apparently if you choose to paint your house a different colour to that of the city, you have to pay a significant amount of cashola to the government. Not sure I’m on board with that, like freedom of speech surely there should be a freedom to paint your house whatever damn colour you want!! Wandering past the Mosque, Abdul 2.0 once again was on fire with all the info, so for the call to prayer, done from the top most pillar of the Mosque, back in the day the dudes that rang the bell were always blind so they couldn’t look into the open Riad’s and see women showering. Ok, so a few questions pop into mind, what the hell is a Riad? Do they shower just out in the open, no shower screens? If so, hope they’ve got strict rules about drones in Marrakech!
So after an insightful wander through the Médina, we headed for the Prime Ministers Palace, famous for all the pretty instagram shots! So this dude had one of the biggest palaces in Morocco so he could accommodate his 4 wives and 24 concubines, no you didn’t read that wrong. Dude must have been super fit, and patient, and possibly deaf… The reason he reckoned he needed all 28 women in his life was because there were just sooooo many things that needed to be done for him, like cooking, sewing, embroidering, cleaning etc that couldn’t possibly done by just one wife, and/or servants. Reason seems a bit sketchy to me. The palace was called Bahia after his favourite wife, way to create a war between your 28 lovers mate, wonder what age he was when he died??? So each wife had their own room, the concubines shares rooms but had an ornate and stunning lounge room, that looked a little something like this… BTW, google may disagree with this account but anyhoo…
Do you think maybe he favoured them a little?? Abdul 2.0 seems abhorrent at the Prime Ministers promiscuity and made a point of telling us that polygamy in Morocco was mainly for the rich as you’d need plenty of cashola to support all the wives and is not accepted in the cities anymore, but still kinda done in the traditional villages, although frowned upon. BUT, it was OK during the war because there were less men and women needed to procreate so it was ok for a dude to spread his seed amongst many women, he didn’t say it exactly like that but you get the drift!
From the outside, I definitely would not have called this place a Palace, just looked like a rather large, plain building but once inside, wowsers!! Absolutely gorgeous with mosaic tiling floor to ceiling, carved wood, lead light windows, fountains, a inside garden, stunning detailed ceilings, you just kinda walk around saying wow…
So Abdul 2.0 explained the reason for the plain Jane outside and the wowsers inside was that apparently the rich didn’t want people to know just how good they had it, so they’d keep their places boring on the outside then fancy up the inside, also done to keep away the evil eye which cursed people who showed off their wealth. And the Prime Minister being the stand up bloke he was insisted that the musicians that would entertain at his lavish banquets had to be blind so they wouldn’t tell others about his wealth and also so they wouldn’t perv on his wives and concubines. Sometimes you just get a feeling you really wouldn’t have liked someone… Dude has taste though, check out the stunning garden…
Once the palace tour was done and dusted, we wandered back through the Médina while Abdul 2.0 once again turned into Google. As he told us, there are 5 pillars (I think they are kinda rules??) of Islam. The first, that you believe in one god, Allah and Mohammed as his last prophet. The second you must pray five times a day, done facing Mecca. Must google Mecca. The third is about Ramadan, for one month a year, you fast from sunrise to sunset, with no food, no smoking, imagine the pig out once the sun goes down! The fourth is about charity, you must give to the poor, whether it’s money, food or otherwise, you must help those less fortunate than you. And the fifth, at least once in your life you must go to Mecca. Ok, Google tells me that Mecca is the holiest city in Islam, located in Saudi Arabia and is the birthplace of the prophet Mohammed and the site of his first revelation of the Quran. And apparently god says Mecca is best place in the world. So out of a population of 35 million, made up of 99% Muslim, only 35,000 Moroccans are allowed per year. With around 1.8 billion Muslims in the world all living by the 5 pillars of Islam you could imagine the place would get a bit crowded. To be one of the lucky ones from Morocco to visit Mecca, you put your name into a draw and wait for the lucky day your name is drawn. Can take years and years. Once you’re over 74 you get priority cos you know, time is running out. You then have to fork out around £5k for the trip. I guess it’s the trip of a lifetime so you spend your lifetime saving for it. This place called Mecca definitely has my attention. Wonder if you have to be Muslim to go there?? Google says yes. And for the last tidbit of info, the five stars on the Moroccan flag represent the five pillars. Nice. Listening to Abdul 2.0 I hardly noticed we’d wandered back into the Square to the sounds of a shrill pipes, which is kind of nice until you look down and realise it’s the sound to make Cobra’s dance… yep, snakes, just there, right there, no cages, just staring at you with their evil eyes. It was at this stage I sandwiched myself to Kylie’s back and prayed for dear life the snakes wouldn’t sense my fear and attack… they are evil bloody things!! Snakes in a Square, would beat Snakes on a Plane hands down, a whole square of Cobras going nuts on the tourists, payback for being made to dance when they just really don’t wanna… wait, is that sympathy for the Snakes?? Hell no, my sympathy was saved for the monkeys, poor little fellas had chains around their necks and were being pulled along by their captors. I know you’re supposed to respect a countries culture and customs but animal cruelty just doesn’t sit well with me no matter where I am in the world. It’s times like these you feel useless.
Once through the square with my life intact, possibly not my wits, we were back on the bus (BOTB for future reference) and headed for Essaouira, a beachside town. Say beach to me and I’m a happy camper. With Abdul 1.0 back in charge, he enthusiastically told us more about his home country. I find facts interesting so hang with me while I get my nerd on and share some more! Of the 35 million people in Morocco, 60% are less than 35 years old. Complete opposite of AUS, where there are more people aged over 45 than under 30. Wander what makes our countries population so different? Maybe aussies live longer? So the main forms of cashola generation in the country is from Tourism, understandable, the place is bloody beautiful, from agriculture like grains mainly grown in the mountainous regions and from taxes. And from painting your house a different colour, that’s my guess… So Berber is the main language of the country, with most people also speaking Arabic and French, cos the frogs had a massive influence on the development of Morocco. Enough nerd for now.
Before hitting up Essaouira, we stopped at a store which must be their equivalent of CostCo, without the pesky membership fees. Would you like to buy a washing machine with your carton of milk?? The stop was mainly for the tour crew to stock up on snacks, water etc but for Kyles and I it was a chance to buy clothing appropriate for Morocco, we were both suffering massively from hangover packing! A dress and Moroccan pants later, along with a life times supply of snacks, cos you know, what if food doesn’t exist in a few days?? We were BOTB and headed for our lunch stop because yep, on a tour time is precious so we’d squished in the Médina, palace tour and evil snakes before lunch. Having had food envy the night before from Adams meatball tagine, I finally got to indulge myself. Meatballs anywhere in the world are amazing, never met a meat ball I didn’t like. Although I am starting to look like a meat ball…
Meat balls were fab, being told I was beautiful over and over by the creepy waiter with a glass eye, not so much. Blonde and big boobs is apparently every Moroccan mans type. If only it was every aussie dudes type maybe I wouldn’t be so single!! Anyhoo, stuffed full of meatballs and possibly an ice cream and we were BOTB, finally beach bound. Music to my ears. But nope, should have listened to Abdul instead of writing down all the facts, there was still one more stop at a women’s Co-op for making Argan Oil. Women empowered to build their own business, I’m on board with that. Having heard of Argan Oil, was a fad for hair products for the dudes reading, I hadn’t really thought about the actual process of making it, like a lot of things I eat/consume I guess. Hmm, how do cocoa beans become chocolate?? Another day. So the ladies use a rock to crack the shell of the Argan seed/bean?? then grind it into a paste from which the oil is then sifted out… no that doesn’t sound right. Here’s a pic, you’ll figure it out…
Wanting to support local business, I bought the oil and by god to this day, best purchase ever. Makes your hair soft, takes away the frizz, can also be used as a face serum, apparently it’ll make me look 21 again?? Liquid gold if you ask me. After scooping up the purchase of a lifetime, Abdul decided it was the perfect time, in 40ish heat in the middle of nowhere to sit us down in a rickety room, stick a map on the wall and tell us all about the geography of Morocco. No idea what he said, was too busy sweating out my body weight in water. Question time and only one person put up their hand, I think everyone else was close to passing out just like myself. After what felt like an eternity we were back on the bus and finally beach bound. No more stops but a definite slow down for us to snap pics of the infamous goats in trees. For reals, goats climb up the trees to nibble on the leaves. Apparently this time of the year it’s not natural for them to do it so any goats in trees are staged, so no stopping to give money to the dudes that put them up there, I’m with you on this one Abdul. Did snap a pic from the bus window cos I’m a tourist and can’t help myself…
At the hotel in Essaouira and it HAD to be wine o’clock. Why had? Well it’s wasn’t no 5 star hotel so no bar fridge in the room meant cold wine needed drinking ASAP. Yes there’s a fridge on the bus and it could have been drunken at a later date but whatevs. And lucky for us, there was a gorgeous pool and outdoor area for us to all sit and chat. Would have loved a swim but this dork didn’t have bathes, remember the story of the hungover packing?? All good, more time to chat, and although most of us were aussies, the majority were living and working in London so awesome to hear about life in London, future planning!!
Abdul rounded us all up and it was off to the beach and main square in Essaouira. I know Australia has some of the most beautiful beaches in the world but Morocco is giving it a run for its money! Stunning and with old fort like buildings all along the esplanade, made for fun climbing but probs wasn’t the best idea in a dress when windy, may have given the locals a eye full, yikes, Muslim country Holster!! Anyhoo, check these pics out and tell me this beach would be home in AUS??
Remembering the evil awaiting in the square of Marrakech, I was braced for more evil Cobras but instead, got fire dancing! Hells yes!!!! After a wander with Abdul we were let loose for dinner. A largeish group of us took over the first floor of a local joint, rearranging the furniture to fit us all then settled in for a yummiest of yum dinners. Beef tagine, vegetable tagine and couscous. Yes I could eat all that myself but instead shared with a few others. We also ordered some Frying Old Soles cos when you see them on the menu you have to see what they are. Turns out they are fried fish, and not the good kind! The beef tagine was one of the yummiest things I’ve ever eaten so made up for it…
With about 15 of us squished into an itty bitty room, it was the perfect chance for us to get to know each other a wee bit better. Amongst us was an Aussie chef who worked at the Michelin Star restaurant The Fat Duck in London, there was a cute American newly wed couple who were travel bloggers, another awesome American couple, the dude looked like James Spader and the chick a Moroccan Princess then there were us aussies, mostly living in London. A fun as hell bunch who were a barrel of laughs. Mind you, when we explained what the famous AB takeaway in Adelaide is, they were mortified, yeah us Aussies are a weird bunch at times! With stomaches at breaking point we wandered along the esplanade back to the hotel and happened to stumble across a beachside bar with an acoustic guitar player, funny how we always happen to stumble upon a bar… It’s well known that there’s always space for wine, it fits in the gaps, but did not expect all the tapas the lovely waiter bought out as freebies. Just when you think you can’t fit any more… The guitar player dude was an absolute wonder, I’m not an Ed Sheeran fan but when sang with a Moroccan accent, hells yes!! His rendition of Shallow bought a tear to the eye and his close of a beautiful Arabic song was the icing on top of an epic epic day in Morocco. At 10.30pm we had to call it a night, with an 7.30am BOTB scheduled heading for Casablanca and the blue city we all needed our beauty sleep to make sure we were Insta ready!!!
For a quickie one hour train ride, the journey between Pisa and Florence is pretty spectacular!! Rolling Tuscan hills, green fields and those stunning sandstone houses and orange roofs, just imagine that scene from Gladiator when he’s returning home, the countryside looks just like that! Unfortunately trains travel pretty damn fast over here so pictures are more of a blur than anything overly scenic!! It is all about the memories right??
Having pre-prepared for my afternoons adventure, I was off the train as it pulled into the station and legging it to my Air BNB. About 5 minutes out of the station I realised no one checked my ticket, at all! Could have gotten a freebie, will remember that for next time… In the mean time, why hello Florence, you’re so pretty!!!
At the next Air BNB, the host Piero was the opposite to the Scottish grump, he was friendly, talked loudly and waved his hands around like a true Italian! And most importantly, he gave me all the best recommendations for pizza, gelato, coffee and dinner, as well as directions to the supermarket. I think he may have noticed I liked food just by the look of me, must get back to the gym… I loved how passionate he was about Florence but before delving into all the pizza and gelato there was rooftop yoga to be had. Using Air BNB Experience for the first time I had booked in for yoga on a rooftop terrace and a home cooked dinner. Half expected it to be a bit dodgy but when I got to the place, after going up the smallest lift imaginable I stepped out onto the terrace and knew I’d hit the jackpot. Possibly the best 360 view of Florence… winning!!!
And the yoga wasn’t bad either! The sun shining down, a gentle breeze, the smell of Florence in the air and stretching my over travelled and slightly podgy body. When Angus & Julia Stone’s Big Jet Plane came on the yogi’s playlist, I knew this place was heaven sent. Maybe this is what my heaven would look, feel and sound like… I know for sure it would taste like it!! Little did we know the hot Italian stallion taking part in the class was also the chef and cooked a mean pasta. For my first meal and outing in Florence, it was unbelievably brilliant and set the scene for one hell of a Florentine adventure! Having already clocked up 25,000 steps that day, I was well and truly spent so called it early and went back to my room for a yoga and pasta induced sleep of a lifetime!
After 2 weeks in Scotland on Dan the pickup Man’s early morning timetable and scheduling myself an early start in Pisa, I had the sleep in every parent with small children wishes they had!! No noise, no one around to wake me and the only reason to get up, gelato!! What a life, living the dream! Even inspired a kick arse outfit choice and red lips, you know I’m in a good mood when there’s red lips! Unfortunately during the hello’s to all my loves at home, there was some bad news about the passing of my Uncle Geoff in Canada, my grandad’s brother. While I hadn’t seen Geoff in over 20 years, seeing my mum upset on the other side of the world was one of the hardest things I’ve experienced while being away, and as with any death, knowing there is nothing you can do to help the people hurting pained my heart. Knowing what an amazing man he was, just like my grandad, it made me sad I didn’t get a chance to reconnect with him during our planned chrissie trip but knowing what his family would be going through is the hardest of all. Grief is one of those feelings where there isn’t anything anyone can do or say to help. It just sucks. Sorry for the tangent, this blog after all is about life not just travels. My saving grace after the news was that I was in one of the most beautiful cities in the world and that is definitely one hell of a distraction from the sombre feelings. Talking to my little Miss Annabelle and Mr Marcus also put a smile back on my dial and helped me be ready to take in the sites and tastes of Florence.
One of the millions of zillions of things I love about Florence is that while it’s a fairly big city, it is still best seen on foot. It’s one tourist attraction after another while wondering around, and to someone like me who loves beautiful old buildings, every street and back alley is a tourist attraction. The streets of Florence are like Edinburgh, every where you look there’s beauty and character, so much history in every stone cobbled street. Wandering from my Air BNB it was a short stroll across the Ponte Vecchio bridge, the most famous bridge in Florence, through the Uffizi Gallery and to the most beautiful, famous and brilliantly Italian… panini!!
Yup, after no brekkie of course my first stop was food!!! I’d been recommended All’ Antico Vinaio by my Air BNB host Piero, as well as my friend Nicole in Adelaide who saw I was in Florence and directed me to awesome food, think the girl knows me good! Unfortunately, every other person in Florence had also been directed there so I joined the line… there’s not much in life I’m willing to line up for, food is pretty much the only exception! While in the line, it wasn’t long before I realised this place had four different shops on the road, each with an equally as long line, usually I’d just walk away from something so touristy but this time it heightened my FOMO! Choosing which panini to order had to be one of the hardest decisions of the last few months… Prosciutto, provolone cheese and truffle hit the spot, didn’t even care that I was smearing the red lipstick all over my face, future Holly’s problem…
After being stuffed full of the yummiest and biggest panini known to man, I was off to get my tourist on. Piazza della Signoria here I come, a big beautiful square full of old buildings and naked men. They were of the stone variety but damn, everywhere I looked there was tackle, did make me laugh which was much needed!
After a sneaky vino to wash down the panini, I did one of my most favourite things. I got lost. Well, I kind of headed in a certain direction but mostly lost. If there’s one place to get lost in, its Florence, you’ll just stumble across a beautiful church or three, like the Church of Santa Croce (as Google pics tells me) and onto the Jewish Synagogue, are they not some of the most stunning buildings ever? Helped that the weather was putting on one hell of a show, blue skies and puffy white clouds, thanks for making my photos look good!
There may have been another sneaky vino or two, because when in Rome right?? Oh wait, I’m in Florence, same same… more getting lost in beautiful gardens, across canals and through back streets before deciding to make my way to Piazzale Michaelangelo for sunset views. Had I not had a few vino’s I would have realised that to get a panoramic sunset view of Firenze, you’d probs have to climb a few steps! Few may have been a minor understatement but once again, hard work has its rewards and when I plopped down on the steps of the Piazzale to take in the view, all the steps in the world were worth it… I’m not sure there is anything more beautiful in the world, except maybe Little Miss Annabelle’s smile…
After a cheers or three to the beauty of Florence, I finally had dinner plans, like with friends, people I knew! Just when you thought I was a loner… I may have been slightly crashing the party but Mel, Adam and Tanya welcomed me as one of the crew. Mel on her own is a comedy act, one of the funniest people I know but with her accomplices, its just belly laughs all around. Between the laughs, there was wild boar tagliatelle, some other yummers and then the most amazing thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on, Florentine steak… being an ex-vegetarian, I never thought looking at a steak could bring me so much joy, eating it was my second heaven, going to heaven twice in two days, lucky me!
After free champagne on account of Tanya’s not birthday and drinking Florence dry of Chianti, we went for a wander. You’d think finding a vending machine full of pot would be the best part of the night, but have you ever played knockers?? No?? Here’s the general gist, Florence is full of gorgeous doors, every door has a “knocker”, hence the name. One must approach the door and yell “real or fake”, everyone else has 0.5 seconds to take their guess before the knocker is, well, knocked!! If its fake, it doesn’t move, if it’s real then the door gets knocked… Now I’m writing it down I realise what horrible people we were… but in our defence, in Florence there’s the front door then like five other doors and stairs until you actually get into someone’s house… except the door Tanya knocked on and got yelled at… Ok, maybe not the best game in the world, maybe you had to be there… or maybe if you were there you’d wouldn’t be an AH and knock on random people’s doors like the rest of us… Our saving grace in this instance is that Mel had a new business idea, The Knockers Tour of Florence, I wander what kind of clientele we’d get on that tour… hehe…. We thought we were funny…. Nah, we were just AH’s… After an escort back to my Air BNB, the crew spent the next half hour using my toilet, apparently they don’t flush the same across the canal… felt sorry for the cleaner, should have left a tip….
The next day I had another sleep in all parents envy. The knockers and another day of over 20,000 steps had worn me out, not to mention the Chianti…. The best cure for a sore body?? PIZZA!! Yeah, no kale and cucumber juices here! I ventured to Piero’s recommendation of the best pizza in town only to be bitterly disappointed to not have cash on me, as if cash only places still exist? Calm down Hangry Holly. Could have just gotten cash out but when I’m hangry there’s no rhyme or reason so instead I looked up, found the next place with pizza and within an Italian jiffy I had in front of me the most magnificent masterpiece…If you think there’s no way I could eat it all then you’d be wrong…
Although my heart was well and truly in Florence my mind was venturing to next week’s adventure in Morocco. Having been booked since our time in Ireland, I knew it was happening but for some reason, had not thought for a second that maybe, just maybe, I’d need to do some kind of preparation. Hopeless Holly just thought she’d pack and go like every other trip but over that epic, gorgeous, delicious, mouth watering steak, Adam, who was also Morocco bound, mentioned that women MUST cover up in Morocco, despite the 35+ degree heat. Bananas. While sure I’d bought some winter clothes with me, most of my gear would not be considered conservative. Let’s be honest, I have tits and arse, they are hard to cover up at the best of times. So the next few hours were spent hitting up H&M and alike discount stores, not how I’d choose to spend time in Florence. Wow, I just whinged about shopping… what a spoilt spoilt life I lead! Truth be told, I don’t like shopping. Shoes yes, gifts yes, clothes NO. Anyhoo, I got bored pretty damn quick and decided that the Duomo was way more important than an imminent trip to Morocco. If you were to see the Duomo, the Florence Cathedral to us Aussies, then you’d agree. One of THE most intricate and stunning buildings I’ve ever seen in my life. I’d been so used to seeing white or grey old buildings, which I love, no complaints here but the Duomo has green and a burnt orange colours integrated into the arhictecture as well as artworks above the doors, I dare you to name a more beautiful building in the world, go on, where???
My one regret, I didn’t go into the Duomo. The line was epic and I was tired. Lame excuse I know. Also have the spoilt brat excuse that I knew it wouldn’t be the last time I’d be in Florence. I’m not one to go back to places I’ve already been, there’s so much of the world to see, but when it comes to Florence and Edinburgh, I’ll keep going back as long as I live. Heading back to my Air BNB, I couldn’t help but keep wandering across the most beautiful places, Piazza della Republica with a gorgeous carousel, a stunning old church, across the canal for more gorgeous views and ooops, found myself at the best gelato place according to Piero, how’d that happen??
A baci and coconut gelato later, I did the most Italian thing I could, besides eat my weight in gelato and pizza… I had a siesta, how many people are hating me now???? Not even joking that I really am living my best life!!! But the tourist in me called, told me I was wasting time so I was back up and at it for my second Air BNB experience, a “Walk through the dark side” tour of Florence. Of course, after a nap I was tired and needed sustenance so found some random Florentine yummy and indulged… One of life’s first world pleasures is biting into something and finding the surprise of a gooey chocolatey filling… Of course people in third world countries just appreciate a glass of clean drinking water as a pleasure but I’m a spoilt Aussie brat so taking pleasure in this yumminess… and the Italian beer that accompanied it…
So the dark side tour. Hmmm, let’s just say straight up it was probs like a 3 star, maybe a 4 because the tour guide chick started chatting to me while I was drinking my beer without even realising I was on her tour and she was awesome, a person I’d be friends with if I was one of those people that just up and moved to Florence to live her best life…. Surrounded by American tourists, we embarked on the dark side of Florence, surprisingly these American tourists were the fun, cool ones that thought having a blonde Aussie on their tour was tops, yay me!!! While I can’t exactly remember the route (BTW, it’s r-owe-t, not root like the Pommies keeping telling me), we wandered around Florence and got some stories about the misfortunes of various people, usually associated with a building or landmark. Of course I’m morbid AF so the story about the dudes that betrayed the Medici family and ended up being flayed with their bodies being hung from hooks on the tower in Piazza Della Signoria (where all the naked men were). Being flayed, their bodies hung with their outer skin next to them, in case you’re not a Game of Thrones fan and don’t know what flayed means. It was an epic tale of betrayal to take down the Medici’s with one of the brothers Lorenzo, the favourite being killed in a church so kinda get it… no life sentence with parole back in those day’s. Back in those times the worst crime was treachery and the betrayal of your family, republic or church, these days it’s murder and rape but whateves…
Second favorite story was that of the Bartolini family who were somewhat inadequate so the only way they could outbid the competing families in the silk trade was to invite them to an epic dinner the night before the auction and drug them with opium so they slept through the silk auction in Venice, allowing them to take over trade and become one of the wealthiest families in Florence. They literally invented the phrase “You snooze, you lose”, with the Italian version of the phrase being inscribed on their building along with poppy flowers, guess they were proud of their ability to outwit their opponents. Each to their own.
There was also a long winded story about some dude called Belmonte who thought he was too cool for school, didn’t marry the chick he was betrothed too, dissed the chicks family’s and thus started the downfall of Florence, to the point where people built bridges between houses to get around because walking the streets was certain death. Geez they were hard arse back then. Also apparently the invention of the phrase to “burn your bridges”, if you fell out with a neighbour in which there was a bridge for you to travel across, they would burn it down so you knew you were no longer welcome. Interesting, Florence seems to be couldron of hate back in those days. Oh and for a “general” punishment, for like not paying your taxes or something not so massive, they tie yours arms and legs together, hang you naked so your butt was facing the ground then drop you over and over so your bare naked arse would smack against the marble ground… yeah, my face was WTF too!!! This is the exact spot they would do that, to think what had gone on here back in the day!?!?!!?
Of course there were plenty of other interesting tales but anyone that knows me of course understands I’ll only remember the morbid or weird arse ones.. haha, arse ones… I crack myself up… Haha, crack, it goes on and on… In conclusion, the tour was pretty good, didn’t see much of Florence I hadn’t already stumbled upon but the stories were worth it, not even google would tell me those truths!! After the tour, of course I was hungry, the smells of Florence put me in a permanent state of hunger. Not being able to hook up with people who I claim to be my friends, I took myself out for dinner. Pasta, wine, music, view of the Duomo, what more could a girl want…
So during dinner I once again engaged in one of my favourite activities, people watching. Looked like it was a thing in Florence for young ones to just congregate in the street, no where in particular, and just chat. No bar or significant place in sight, just stand and chat. I mean I know every Italian loves a chat but it’s so different to the Aussie culture of having a beer in the hand and being at a pub or some place that can refill said beer in hand, the same group stood on the street for my whole meal just chatting… yeah I was a weirdo and took a pic…
Having had my fill (for today) of pasta and wine, I wandered back to my Air BNB but got distracted by markets, yep, a whole food hall open til midnight. Of course, it wouldn’t be date night without dessert, a cannoli in Italy, how could I not??
As I meandered home, I headed in the general direction of a bridge, ended up on the right side of town and at my Air BNB, no idea how, worst sense of direction, maybe it really is Google that keeps getting me lost??? Or the fact that I could just wander around Florence forever, every street is gorgeous, every door has character, and it’s filled with yummy food, what’s not to love??
After having one of the best date nights, the next day, my last in the gorgeous Firenze, I was determined to do something other than stuff my face. Getting out of the Air BNB nice and early, the streets of Florence at 9am were like a ghost town, does no one get up at this time?? If this is the life of Florentines, I really do belong here… Having relied on Google to tell me what to do today, I made my way to the Boboli Gardens, I thought a leisurely walk around a lush green retreat would be lovely… did not expect the heck of a hike up the hill, but once again the view was amazing. It really was like a secret garden, lots of little hidden retreats, fountains just randomly around a corner and some interesting art choices! The view over the Tuscan hills was my fave!
I decided to refer to Google to see what else he could come up with, he did good. Wait, is Google a male or female??? Bad sense of direction but knows everything, must be female… In this case she knew I love me a Fort so headed to the one and only Fort in Florence. As my stomach rumbled, on cue Adam was ready to experience the best pizza in all of Florence, the one I missed out on cos I didn’t have cash. The Fort would have to wait. Wandering down the streets to meet Ads, I really was once again spoilt with old gorgeous streets, beautiful buildings and a picture perfect day. Could anyone ever come here and not fall in love with it??
Meeting Adam at Gusta Pizza, pretty sure I said hi before getting down to the ordering and eating. Sometimes I forget to be polite when I’m hungry. And my god, so glad I made it back! Pizza so good there are no pics and no leftovers. Beer and pizza, there really is nothing better. Am i turning into a dude?? After wandering away from Gusta, Ads and I were keen for another beer but finding a pub, bar or any restaurant that would serve us a beer without a feed was as hard as finding ice in a desert. The whole trip I’ve felt like every second place was a bar, why we couldn’t find one is beyond me, and Ads. How do two aussies suck so bad at finding a bar?? It’s in our DNA!!! Anyhoo, one nice lass at a restaurant saw the desperation in our faces and allowed us to sit and have a few cold ones without forking out for food. Definitely was not going to fit anything else in, the beer really was just trickling in between the gaps. A few beers and good conversation and it was the time I hadn’t been looking forward to, time to say goodbye to Florence. Hate saying goodbye, at least this one was sweet, like Edinburgh, I knew I’d be back one day. Legging it back to my Air BNB to grab my bag then on to the Santa Maria Novella train station, walking right past where we’d just been sitting drinking beer, could have just bought my bag with me earlier, vacation brain. It’s real… A few last tourist snaps of my beloved Florence and I was back on the train to Pisa. This time they did check my ticket, no freebies out of Florence.
Once in Pisa, I opted not to lug my backpack around amongst the annoying tourists and instead walked to the airport and enjoyed a final panini before testing my luck with RyanAir yet again. Lucky for me, I landed in the right airport in London and on time, WTF??? Somethings not right… Once back at Kylina’s the excitement of the next day’s adventure to Morocco set in so the music was cranked and a sneaky gin poured while I packed and waited to hear from Kylie about the nights festivities for Kam’s birthday. I got about half way through packing when the gorgeous Sean arrived home and the party started… yes there was dancing in the lounge room, lots of ABBA and no more packing… of which would come back to haunt me all through Morocco!!!! Stay tuned…
While on my epic tour of Scotland, I had a bright idea to jump on the Kayak app and check out where I could possibly jet off to the following week on the cheap. What do ya know, Pisa was only £133 return, and from there I could leg it to Florence, one of my most favourite cities in the world… within 10 minutes, flights and Air BNBs booked… I should never be left alone with a travel bug, but oops, that’s all I am these days!
I’d only gotten back from my Scotland adventure the night before but the buzz of my Italy trip meant I slept like a baby, no wait, I had an awesome sleep, don’t babies wake up and cry every two hours?? Monday I was up and at it early to pack and get moving to Stansted, an airport I had not yet been to. There’s like 20 of em in London… Once again I was testing my luck with Ryanair… it seemed my luck had run out! A whole plane of passengers waiting on the tarmac and no crew. That’s a first. Departure time came and went, finally we were herded on board but we’d missed our window to take off so we just sat on the plane for an hour and a half. The passengers in front didn’t seem bothered, all loved up, how sweet. I miss that!
Once in the air, it was the loudest flight I’ve ever had. Should have guessed with a plane full of Italians but by gosh, felt like I was in one of those really noisey restaurants crossed with a classroom of kids, not even blasting silverchair in my headphones could drown it out. After having to grab the seat in front of me and actually letting out a WHOA along with the rest of the plane as we bunny hopped down the runway, I was glad to finally be off the flying sardine can. After also experiencing the grottiest tray table I’ve ever seen, I finally understood all the Ryanair reviews. But also got that money was running out quickly so probs wouldn’t be my last excursion with them!!
Walking to my Air BNB in Pisa, I got away with my life, crazy Italian drivers and an Aussie tourist that looks the wrong way when crossing the road, oops. Really am a dodgy tourist. Did something of a drop and run with bags at the Air BNB where my host happened to be Scottish, my priority was to get my tourist on and check out Pisa’s biggest celebrity, the leaning tower. Only a 25 minute walk away for most people, 40 minutes for a dodgy tourist that gets lost. It’s such an awe inspiring site when you’re getting into the area and get a glimpse of it towering over the other buildings, even more WOW when you turn the corner and there it is. The white marble all lit up against the black night sky is pretty damn impressive, check it out for yourself…
The Square of Miracles where the tower is located along with the Cathedral, Baptistry and Camposanto is certainly one of those places I won’t forget in a million lifetimes. Stunning white marble buildings with so much detail you wonder how before all the machinery and technology they could even construct these places. Google tells me they started construction back in 1064, that blows my mind! Maybe they were built by the same aliens that constructed the pyramids… Having been relatively civil for the majority of my pics, my dodgy tourist instincts took over and I couldn’t help but get all the lame and silly shots with the leaning tower, was actually a lot of fun, I’m sure I looked like a weirdo doing it by myself but not sure I care what any one else thinks!!
With a 2.30pm train to Florence, I was up and at it the next day to take in all the sites of Pisa in the few short hours I had. Just wish the weather forecast was more accurate, had packed for a week of low 20’s and rain but Pisa had turned on the sunshine!! Not complaining, the beautiful blue skies showed off the stunning sites, thanks Pisa! In the daylight, the Square of Miracles was even more beautiful if that’s possible, getting inside all the buildings was a bonus, my favourite being the Camposanto, yep that’s a Graveyard, the arches and tombs were a contrast of beauty and being totally morbid, but we all know that’s how I roll…
The Cathedral, the Duomo to Italians…
The Baptistery
The Tower, Campanile…
And my fave, the Camposanto Monumentale, a graveyard…
And some random dude that fell over…
Having well and truly got my tourist on, it was time for the thing I looked forward to most about Italy, the food!! I could lie and say I most looked forward to the history and culture but anyone who knows me would know that’s complete bull… bruschetta, lasagne and wine, what more could a girl want in the world??
Having thought I knew some Italian and my pronunciation being pretty good, it wasn’t til I was trying to order my food that I realised how bogan aussie Italian I sounded, and pretty sure by the look on the face of the waiter, he agreed. The only thing worse than my bad Italian was Siri’s. Wandering the city with the help of Google Maps, her pronunciation was like listening to a super bogan trying to speak Italian so so wrong she made me giggle. A sweaty Aussie walking around Pisa laughing to herself and taking selfies, I didn’t look weird at all…
Pisa was a pretty city but in all honesty, without the Square of Miracles, it probs isn’t a city that has its own charm and beauty. Maybe I’m just so spoilt with all my travels that my standards are just way too high!!
Legging it back to my Air BNB, I needed a quick change of clothes and a bathroom stop. And this is where I get grumpy. When I left in the morning the host was all ok with me coming back later and leaving my bag there, didn’t ask for the key or anything. When I came back I used the room just to get changed, didn’t touch a thing. And then I get a shitty Air BNB review for using the room and her needing the room earlier. Could have told me in the morning love, people can be AH’s sometimes, especially when I’d already been flexible with the check in because she wasn’t going to be home until 7.30pm. Maybe they kicked her out of Scotland that’s why she was in Pisa, wasn’t the lovely Scottish hospitality I was used to!!
Anyhoo, changed into my active wear and was onto the train to Florence all easy peasey, so easy no one even checked my ticket. One hour later and I was in Firenze…
Despite my smell the Geordie gave me a warm welcome in Newcastle, I mean the toon. Forgot they speak a different language and damn it, left my Geordie dictionary in oz.
If the Geordie was expecting a fun night out with Matilda he was a bit disappointed! I was rooted so room service and the first five minutes of the movie Dark Phoenix and I was out like a light.
Lucky for me, my Geordie friend, who has been mentioned before under many names, Pattie, Nora and possibly his real name David, is a good bloke and organized a weekend showing me my roots around England. The first stop was Askrigg where my Dad’s mum, otherwise known as Grandma, had family originate. The family also happened to be none other than those of the Terry’s Chocolates fame. Knew I had chocolate in my blood, explains a lot. I was kinda glad when the GPS of Nora’s Vauxhall, a kick arse car I’d never heard of, thought Vauxhall was just a tube station, anyway, GPS took us the scenic route into Askrigg, tiny tiny roads and gorgeous little villages. Nice for me who got to ooo and ahh at the pretty scenery, not so much for the Geordie who had to drive in a road big enough for one car, just, no idea what people do when someone comes the other way?? Driving into Askrigg poor Pattie had to deal with my millions of photos a minute habit but managed to navigate us to the town centre where I could jump out and explore. Such a weird feeling being somewhere you know your distant relatives walked the streets, drank at the pub, lived their lives. Really does make me want to go back and trace my grandma’s family history, ancestry.com here I come! After a pit stop at the pub of course…
BITC (hehe, that’s almost naughty but sure you have it figured out Mum), and we headed to Scarborough, a seaside town in Yorkshire where my Mum’s mum, the other grandma, went to boarding school. The English countryside really is gorgeous, different to Scotland but pretty rather than rough and rugged, and felt different listening to a soundtrack of Elvis and AC/DC rather than my hip hop and Aussie indie rock. Not complaining, love them too! The Geordie’s playlist of movie theme songs made me realize my head really was full, things were just popping out, like names of songs I knew but just didn’t know anymore. So is this what old age feels like???
Anyways, driving into Scarborough Nora had to put up with my ooos and aaahs again, especially when we rocked up at the hotel, a stunning old building right on the beach. Davie did good.
While the inside was something of a rabbits warren, I would have been jealous had we been staying anywhere else. It just so happpened that we’d made it to Scarborough in time for the Geordie to watch the soccer, sorry I mean football (I really mean soccer!), his Newcastle boys were playing a team that was gonna whip their arses apparently. Leaving the Geordie at the local I headed right for the beach, oh how I’d missed the ocean. Corfu felt like months ago!!
Scarborough was so not what I expected! Yes the beach I knew was there, but the Ferris wheel and cliffs and esplanade with casinos I had no idea. Very cool surprise!
What wasn’t a surprise was returning to the Geordie at the pub to find a goalless game… I get how skilled the dudes are that play but no score in 90 minutes?!? I need more action in my sport. A few beers in and the Geordie was ready for karaoke. For the record, I will never ever be ready for karaoke. For a dude with a thick accent I can hardly understand, he does a bloody good Elvis! Some McDonalds later and we called it a night, there may have been quite a few gins and beers between the Maccas and night but anyway…
Up and at it on Sunday, I don’t know if I was more excited about the bacon at the buffet breakfast or seeing more of Scarborough. Can we just say equally excited??? BITC and hooning around Scarborough we found the convent my grandma went to school at, THE most beautiful church and cemetery on cliffs overlooking the ocean and a fort. Winning!!!
On our trek back to the toon, we stopped off at the other beachside vacation town of Whitby, conveniently minutes before England and Tonga kicked off at the Rugby World Cup! No complaining from me, getting chauffeured around England to all the places my family are from, dude can stop for as many games as he wants! But once again, did leave Nora at the pub while I explored the gorgeous Whitby. What a picturesque town, a seaside village with ruins of a castle on the hill (no time to trek to) but did make it to the lighthouses for gorgeous views over the cliffs, ocean and back into then the town. Surely this is more interesting and beautiful than rugby reet?? I mean there’s even a replica of the Endeavour, how does anything compete with that???
At least this time when I found the Geordie it was good news, the English were winning, which given that that it was now my other homeland, I was kinda happy about too. I think I’m finally getting the gist of rugby, and might actually know the difference between league and union, union is the one with the scrums right?? If I’m not going to have AFL on the regular for the next year, I reckon rugby is gonna be my game. Exciting, tough dudes and there’s no way they can go a whole game without scoring points! Ok, I’m on the rugby band wagon, but now the question is, who do I support in the World Cup?? Australia, England or Scotland? I think I’ll keep that answer to myself as it may get me into trouble!
BITC and feck, my train leaves in 2 hours and we’re 1 hour and 45 minutes away from Newcastle. Nora didn’t seem all that bothered, gave me some reassuring words in Geordie that I couldn’t even repeat if I tried… well actually, I did try a lot that weekend to speak Geordie but like all my accents, just kept coming out Jamaican! On the leg back to Newcastle, or maybe it was before, at some stage there was the discussion that I’d keep thinking about for days, and change my answer multiple times. So if you could go to the concert of three bands or singers no longer together or alive, who would they be?? It’s harder than you think!! After lots of back and forth, Nora and I both agreed that Queen and Elvis were on the list, his third was Sinatra and mine was The Beatles. Bloody hard cos that means other epic bands and singers like David Bowie, Jeff Buckley, Janis Joplin, and Amy Winehouse don’t make the list. And since we were on the topic, next question was what three people that have passed would you love to have dinner with? Not necessarily all at the same time… I think the question may have changed part way through cos the Geordie picked Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King and the Dalai Lama, who obvs is still with us – my picks were Princess Diana, Mary Queen of Scots and Hitler. I know the last choice is controversial but as a psychology student, meeting someone like him that did so many horrid things, a conversation about values and morals would be out of this world, how he’d justify the atrocities he committed would be an interesting conversation. As would the conversation with all our other choices of course. In hindsight the dead people conversation may have just been a tactic to distract me from how close we were cutting it with time, it worked. At the station it was a quick good bye to the Geordie and I literally had 8 minutes to get into the station, find my platform and get onto the train. I made it in 5…. how I have no idea, a cross between running and shimmying through the crowd with a backpack, handbag and bag of other crap, mostly gin. Back in London, it did kinda feel like coming home. Mind you as someone that doesn’t technically live anywhere, wherever the roof is over my head is my home. But it’d only be home for one night, I’d booked a sneaky trip to Pisa and Florence the next day…
After 5 days of early wake ups for the bus, ok well 7am isn’t that early but early for me, I finally had a lay in and enjoyed every bloody second. I was exhuasted from the 5 days of eat, drink, selfie, BOTB, repeat… Today was going to be a chill day with my awesome friend Suz who was from Adelaide now, but Scottish and had lived in Edinburgh so getting an insiders view.
Casually strolling to brunch, an Adelaide institution I’ve sorely missed, I finally found a peaky to fit my head. I have an abnormally big head if you hadn’t noticed! And I’m sure a peaky has a proper name but now that Peaky Blinders is a smash hit, the hat they all wear is called a peaky by the Netflix addicted generation. Still not sure what I mean, check this one out:
Seeing the beautiful smiling face of Suz made my day! With all my adventures I’ve hardly been still long enough to miss Adelaide but seeing a friend that I’ve known forever gave me a rush of longing for my Adelaide life. I squashed the longing with a bloody mary and more haggis goodness with some avo thrown in for good measure. With full bellies we decided to take a leisurely stroll up to Arthur’s Seat, the highest peak in Edinburgh, didn’t look that high and the walking trail info said it was a relatively easy walk. Whoever wrote that lied… Sure neither of us were dressed for hiking and we were full up of bloody mary’s and avo but still, waaaay harder than Google let on but definitely worth it for the views over my most favourite city in the world. Being the thinkers we are, or possibility the drinkers we are, we came up with a brilliant business idea, a Prosecco and coffee cart at the top of Arthur’s Seat. Yes there was a little something of a logistics problem but after that hike I probs would have paid $30 for a Prosecco, oh wait, that’s what I’m paying on a normal day, damn exchange rates…
Well and truly having earnt a cocktail or three, Suz took me to “the” spot in Edinburgh for cocktails, the balcony of Harvey Nichols, the department store the next step up from David Jones. Sure the cocktails were £20 each, roughly equates to $40 Aussie but you only live once…
Having been a local for so many years, Suz’s cocktail tour of the best spots in Edinburgh was in full swing, we stopped off at a gorgeous building with a dome, not even Google can help me with the name, then onto a speak easy called Panda and Sons, that was beyond cool, hidden in a barber shop down some stairs and behind a bookcase, Edinburgh has it all!!
The bar staff in Panda and Sons were super friendly and gave us some dinner recommendations, we ended up at a Mexican tapas bar for tacos and margaritas. Now I’m pretty sure the food was amazing and it wasn’t the cocktails talking but I can’t be sure… with time for one more round (ok maybe two) we found a back alley bar that felt like a Peel St in Adelaide local and enjoyed our last hurrah before Suz was onto the bus and back to her digs an hour or so away. It was one of those days that just makes you smile when you think about it and just made me fall in love with Edinburgh even more.
It was enthusiastic motivated Holly that booked the 6.30am train to Inverness the next morning, not the hungover realistic version. But after the 4 hour trek with WiFi I’d hunted down the best coffee and bacon in all of Inverness and made it my first stop. Called Coyote coffee for no idea why, pretty sure there aren’t coyotes in all of Scotland but who cares when there’s bacon. It lived up to the hype and served a brekkie photoworthy and most importantly yummo!! And true to form (well, that’s what the review said) the gentleman running the coffee shop was up for a chat and gave me some good recommendations for an old school bookshop down the road next to a church with a cemetery that had graves from those that fought in Culloden, top bloke!
After a quick bag drop at the Air BNB I was free to stroll around Inverness at my own pace, with no BOTB or time limits, did miss my peeps Peta and Robert though! While not the Inverness from Outlander, the disappointment of that revelation was long gone as I strolled through a gorgeous city of quaint houses, stunning churches, a beautiful war memorial and of course my fave, a castle!!
It was however the quote on the gravestone at the war memorial that stuck a chord with me:
“For your tomorrow we gave our today”
Really did bring a tear to my eye and take me back to Culloden, maybe if I believed in the cause that much I would have stood side by side with the highlanders, maybe if I’d been born in Scotland…
Wandering around Inverness, it’s one beautiful building after another, then there was this:
Pretty in its own way but just kinda stood out like a sore thumb to me. Especially when you compare it to the stunning Cathedral just up the road…
What did make me smile was all the chimneys, the obsession continues…
Finally making my way to the bookshop recommended by the Coyote dude, I walked through the doors and stepped back in time… even more if possible, Inverness already felt like a different age. Leaky’s bookshop was adorable? Not sure that’s the word, cute?? Actually reminded me of the bookshop on Never Ending Story, or was that the school library???
As promised, next door was another stunning church, and I don’t say another to be blasé , I say another in amazement. The cemetery and church were… I feel like I’m running out of words, I’ve already said gorgeous and stunning a million times, but they really were. Headstones dating back hundreds of years, the church had a beautiful heeby jeeby feeling, like it’d seen a hell of a lot in its time.
With the 5 something wake up call catching up with me, I headed back to the Air BNB for check in and once again stepped back in time… my room was from the 60’s, wall paper even on the ceiling, not complaining, I found it sweet, pretty sure I’d find a jail cell in Scotland sweet… but let’s not test that theory… I did manage to be useful and do a load of laundry at the local laundromat which was an experience in itself, but besides that I was completely useless the rest of the night. Maybe I needed it, especially given the gravitas of the next day…
The Thursday was all about Culloden. On my last visit I knew I’d be returning so saved the immersive visitor center experience for when I had all the time in the world to read and probs cry a little. Maybe there is something to that saying about the early bird and the worm because getting there earlyish meant not too many pesky tourists I refuse to be one of. The setup of the visitor center is smart, the British timeline of events down the left in red, the Scottish down the right in blue, this time you really did get both sides of the story, unlike my skewed version of Culloden. Dan the bus driver Man had told us a pretty damn good tale about Culloden, covering off all the important stuff. But I’m a nerd and love getting all the information I can about something, although I think I’m running out of space in my head… One thing that didn’t change in all my reading was my opinion of Bonnie Prince Charlie, still not a fan especially given that after everyone’s efforts to hide him from the British after the battle, with the infamous Flora MacDonald smuggling him out of Scotland by dressing him as a woman and passing him off as her handmaiden, people took risks for him and he rewarded them by returning to Rome and spending the rest of his life being a drunk and sooking about his defeat. Compare him to someone like William Wallace and he comes up very short in the balls department!
The main attraction of the visitor center is the immersive experience. I’d heard from Kyles how intense it was so thought I was prepared, not so much. You stand in a room with each wall a massive screen and before you know it, you’re right in the middle of the Culloden battlefield, with the British firing on the left and the highlanders charging on the right, brave men falling in the slaughter right in front of you. There’s a reason kids aren’t allowed in, so bloody realistic, intense is an understatement. Pretty sure I held my breathe the whole time.
Reading about what happened to the Scottish after Culloden was heart breaking. People even suspected of being a Jacobite were slaughtered, no questions asked. The Scottish folk were forbidden to wear tartan, speak Gaelic or play the bag pipes. Pretty much stripped of their culture, people even changed their names, removing the Mac part so as to not be suspected of being a Jacobite. I hate to say it but the British were ruthless, barbaric even. Historically they have slaughtered so many people and stripped them of their culture, all across the world. All in the name of religion, for the King, for ego. I get it’s the way of the world and many others did the same, the Romans, the Spanish, it was how things were done. In today’s world of media and constant scrutiny, people are being held accountable, which is a good thing but there are still certain politicians and leaders in the world being complete knobs.
Emerging from the visitor center overwhelmed it was good to take some time on the roof walk to find some stillness and let my brain catch up. The views over the battlefield showed why amongst all the rugged mountains and valleys of Scotland, this flat plain was the place the battle had to take place. The purple heather that covered the fields gave it a breath taking beauty that didn’t seem to be akin with the blood shed that had taken place. After a wander around I found solace in one of my favourite things in the world, hairy coos. Although they kept running away from me, my favourite things leaving, story of my life!
Having spent the morning with battles on the brain I kept the theme going and trekked out to Fort George, finally a place with fort in the name that actually has a fort!!! The walk from the bus to the fort along the shore of a loch, or maybe the ocean, was a welcome breathe of fresh air. And when you’re trekking towards an awesome fort on the horizon, there’s an extra bounce in the step. Now this is a bloody fort!!!!!
After being all forted out I made the trek back to Inverness, did a final wander around the city then called it a night cos annoying Holly last week booked another 6.30am train back to Edinburgh.
Ok so I wasn’t a fan of the early start but it did mean I had another half day in Edinburgh so went through my must do list for the gorgeous city. Still so much to see and do but the one I wanted the most was the botanic gardens. While I can hardly keep a cactus alive, I do appreciate a beautiful garden. After stowing my bag I legged it to the botanic garden. And by legged it I mean walked 40 minutes in over 30 degree heat up hills and around in circles cos we all know how good I am with a map. Did find a few places I thought could be my future home though…
After putting down a rather large coffee I literally got lost in the botanic Gardens, but what better place to get lost in aye?
Although wandering around a garden is delightful, anyone that knows me knows I’m a hot person, and not in the good looking way! I overheat ridiculously quick so after the mornings legging it to the garden and back into the main part of Edinburgh I was ready to just chill, quite literally, I went into Sainsbury’s and stood in front of the fridge! And since I was there, picked up a gin or two then went and sat on the grass in the square and did one of my favourite hobbies, people watching!
May have watched a little too intently because before I knew it I was running late for the train and had to run between the baggage stow and train, picking up gin, whiskey and shortbread on the way as presents for the people who were taking care of me. Felt so so sorry for the person sitting next to me on the train, I did not smell good. Was also feeling sorry for the Geordie waiting for me in Newcastle, he may wanna rethink the hello hug…
Holly vs the world 