Whoosh!

Soooo . . . once we got back to France, updating our travel blog became less urgent, and gorging ourselves on cheese, bread, and steak became our main activity. Now that I've finally landed in Iowa (with Doug soon to follow after tying up loose ends in LA), I realized I had a video of La Tour de France whizzing through Perpignan that I forgot to share. We went to Perpignan because I'd heard that Salvador Dali called it the "crossroads of the world" or some such, and as luck would have it, our visit coincided with the Tour and we still managed to get a decent hotel room.

Before the Tour came through, all the French sponsors send these wild floats down the main street to get the crowd stoked up to cheer on the racing teams. After the video, I'm posting some of those pics . . . pretty goofy, but unmistakably French.









Here's the only piece of swag I managed to get (the competition in the crowd was fierce!): the brand is the French national horse-betting entity, PMU. Needless to say, I didn't think this was worth stuffing in my suitcase and bringing home to the fam.



All in all, a great afternoon and evening spent, even if there were sports involved. Maybe it signals a change in my attitude toward spectator athletics, if not actual participation in them.

La Mode Marocaine and lazing around on the Mediterranean Coast

view of the Barcelona port from Montjuic Park

Moroccan formalwear for sale in the Marrakech medina

It´s been a little while since I have written, and I don´t have any excuse really, except that I bought a copy of Hello! in Barcelona and then found a mass market chic-lit paperback at our hostel shortly after that and have been rotting my brain on those two things for the last week rather than blogging or even thinking of semi-interesting things to say should I find myself inspired to blog. Upon re-entry into Spain, Doug and I have pretty much been in sort of a recovery mode.

Morocco took it out of us! There were so many new things to process there: intense colors and flavors, winding, packed streets, upsetting smells and obnoxious touts, a surprisingly developed tourist infrastructure (along with the high prices that accompany that), and amazingly tempting shopping. Seriously, if you go to Morocco, bring lots of cash and an empty suitcase... the souvenir loot is tops. Dyed leather bags, adorable flat sandals, gorgeous scarves and rugs, great jewelry, and the best thing of all.. fantastic all natural cosmetics. You´ve never used such yummy soap!

People watching in Morocco was second to none, and my favorite thing to watch out for was the women`s street fashion. Local women could be wearing anything from a tight tank top and shorts to a turtleneck, headscarf, and jeans in the 40 degree C weather, though most seemed to prefer the jellaba, a hooded button-down robe worn over leggings or another skirt. Super comfy looking. I wish I had bought one.

Tourist women were also quite fun to watch, with their wildly inappropriate miniskirts and backless tops. I guess they didn't read the ''dress respectfully'' section in their Lonely Planet. I was jealous of them because they weren't sweating as much as I was in my longer skirts and sleeves. Some of the wealthier women were outfitted in very cute ''safari'' shifts and wide-brimmed straw hats. I could picture them walking into Harvey Nichols and saying, ''I´m off to Marrakech in a fortnight. Outfit me for the kasbah!'' Of course, I was wildly envious of them, too.

In Barcelona and Valencia, we have managed to see some sights before blowing off what the cities have to offer to go to the beach. Just walking around in this kind of heat seems virtuous, and besides, we need to save money! Luckily, both of these Spanish cities boast major architectural gems plainly (and freely) viewed from the street. Not a bad way to spend a week, and after going to Perpignan for a couple of nights, we'll be kissing the sea goodbye. So I guess what I might be feeling guilty about (being lazy) might actually be a nice blessing (sitting around and soaking up this relaxed atmosphere). Soon, we´ll be saying goodbye to Europe entirely, at least until a future trip brings us back. I can`t believe how fast this trip has gone by!

Live from Marrakech

Here´s Doug doing his best Travel Channel impersonation from the Djemaa el-Fna in Marrakech about a week ago. Not exactly live, but you get the point.

Funky Cold Medina

Well, not cold so much as pretty hot during the 90+ degree summer days, but definitely funky. Medinas are playing a large part of our trip through Morocco: they contain not only the oldest parts of certain cities, but also maintain some of the oldest trades and traditions.

As you can see from the above map of the medina at Fes, they are not exactly laid out in a straight-forward, NYC gridlike style. Which, some might argue, is the point and the fun of walking through them. A seemingly straight street will fork and branch off in a million directions, the buildings all looming creakily at least two stories high all around youm making orienting yourself to a distant landmark impossible. I should know. I suffer, now, from medina-phobia.

It starts out fun enough. You wander down a long, organized boulevard or avenue in the ville nouvelle until you come upon the walls of the medina, usually 20 feet or more high. The great entrance gates are flowing in both directions with people, scooters, and donkey carts. So you hop in and get swept up in what can only be described as the current of people and vehicles. Its impossible to go at your own pace, as you are now at the mercy of the masses, and the only way to escape the push-and-pull is to stop in whichever shop or stall is immediately next to you on the cramped, cobbly street. Of course, the shop owners know this, and they immediately beckon you to look, "for free, just for the pleasure of your eyes". Once you've caught your breath and said your nicest "non, merci" repeatedly, you get swept up again.

It has been pretty impossible for us to do sight-seeing in the real sense of picking a place you want to visit and then finding your way there. Inevitably, we get lost. We stumble upon weird sights, quiet residential streets, plenty of tour guides and hustlers, food stalls, leather workers, shoe stores, trinket shops, as well as tons of places and areas dedicated to the everyday needs of the average Joe Morocco. In Fes, for instance, we spent almost three hours wandering, baffled by our Lonely Planet map and the lack of street signage in the medina. After circling past places we swore we had already passed, but also stumbling upon the main historic attractions, Lucy's directional sixth sense led us through a few empty streets and back to where we started at the main gates. We saw the touristy, the under-construction, the historic, and the everyday parts of the biggest medina in Morocco, and by the end we both agreed that it was exhilirating, and that we were tired.

Now that we're in Marrakech, I am determined to stick fairly close to the similarly gigantic but decidedly un-mazelike Djemma el-Fna, the giant UNESCO World Heritage square where, nightly, almost 100 restaurants set up outdoors and cook their specialties for tourists and locals. Right now, I think its safe to say we are both thinking about our next bowl of haricots (stewed beans) topped off with a salty, spicey, pickled sauce and a small loaf of khoobz bread. All for $0.75 each!

Andalucia Superlatives

It's hard to say which of the four Andalucian cities we visited last week was the best one. Each had something about it that made it well worth a couple nights' stay.

Sevilla had the best food. We had huge plates of salmorenjo, a thick cold vegetable soup about the consistency of hummus, as well as gazpacho with boiled egg, solomillos doused in blue cheese sauce and laid over fries, super yummy pickled vegetables, and chicken skewers with roasted red pepper, just to name a few.

Granada was the place where I felt that Andalucian culture was the most vibrant and still made relevant. Isabel la Catolica's ghost was everywhere, but so was the massive influence of the Islamic dynasties that ruled the province until 1492. I loved how Granada manages to make even the most tired tourist staples of the region--tapas, flamenco--feel fresh and inspired while never losing their sense of tradition. The flamenco show we went to was buried deep in the Albazyn, and with the boxed wine and the backroom theater, it had the feel of underground performance art.

Cordoba has the most beautiful cathedral I have ever seen in my life, the Mezquita-Catedral, a mosque converted into a cathedral in the middle ages once the province was taken over in the Reconquista. I loved this blatant mix of styles, and the coolest part is looking into the exposed ruins and seeing the site of Visigoth church it was built upon.

Cadiz is the most fun and the most relaxed. Like a little Caribbean island tacked onto the Atlantic coast of Spain, I immediately fell into a beach rhythm once we pulled into this station. Everyone was sunburned, half naked, and stuffing calamari into themselves . . . even me, who usually hates seafood in all forms.

And yup, I did get a little too much sun (not enough swimsuit time so far this summer means my skin is way not used to it!) , though not as much as Doug, whose chest has a splotchy speckled effect due to his lackadaisical application of sunscreen . . . next time, I'm getting him a spray bottle.

More from Morocco soon!

The Thing About Tapas...

Well, there's not really a thing about them, other than that you (meaning I) will always want more. They are great.

Lucy and I tried a fair amount of tapas while we were in Sevilla, Granada, and Cadiz. Lucy was even a giant champ and chomped down on some octupus and fried calamari when she might normally not go for the shellfish. But we had a great time trying all of these little things because it let us unwind, socialize (even though we're never really far from socializing with each other) and do a little people watching without the burden of a whole meal put in front of us.

In Sevilla, we tried the tapas in a more traditional way: standing up, in a packed bodega or two. At one place we snacked on a plate of spinach and garbanzos and on another solomillo al whiskey, which is sauteed pork tenderloin atop fried potatoes with a whiskey sauce. Since it was getting so crowded we hopped over to an old-school looking bodega right near the cathedral, where we ordered the ubiquitous calamares fritos and a small pork sandwich.

Granada was a special place because apparently it is one of the last cities where a drink is accompanied by a free tapa, usually of the bartender's choosing. We slipped into an old, wooden, almost-empty bar around 6pm where Lucy and I both ordered some white wine. The bartender whipped around the corner and came back with a serving of boquerones fritos, which are small anchovies fried up and heaped up on a plate for you to devour whole, tiny little bones and all. The next round was a dish of sliced pulpo (octopus) marinated in red peppers, onions, and olive oil that was so tender I didn't even realize it was shellfish. Another round brought some sliced lomo de cerdo (pork loin) on bread. All for the price of the drinks!

I also received a weird tapa of some sort of long, rectangular-shelled (almost tubular, but flat) that tasted like a combination of mussel, clam, and scallop. Its pretty safe to say almost anything put in front of you, for free, will be pretty tasty.








If you don't want to sit or stand at the bar, you can still get the goods but don't call them tapas, which seem to be pretty much only served at the bar by the bartender. The same plates are available in raciones which are plates big enough for four to share, or a meal for one, or in the half-size media raciones. In Cadiz one night, Lucy and I enjoyed some queso curado (cured goats milk cheese) and jamon iberico (the best of the cured hams) with a couple glasses of wine.





Another thing I really, really, enjoyed on those hot Spanish afternoons was the red Rioja wine served almost cold. I could almost go for one right now, if they had it in Morocco...

Cruzcampo Street Performers in Granada