Marrakesh from above...

So after a nice break in Eassouria it was back to Marrakesh for a last three days before moving on. Importantly I was able to spend my birthday in Marrakesh and was spoilt with the lovely suprise of a early morning hot air balloon ride over the countryside just outside Marrakesh! This of course meant an early morning start and we were greeted by our guide and hot air balloon owner Hamid - who proudly informed me that he knew where Brisbane was as he drove there from Sydney when he recently visited Australia with his wife - which is a rareity as the majority of Morroccans just cannot afford such and expensive trip. There were 6 other people from the UK also coming along for the ride that day and they were quiet lovely. To make sure we were all awake as we are driving through this sand dune area hamid says let me wake you up - the jeep is still in motion as he jumps at and runs to the back of the car and opens the door where we are sitting on the bench seats and says "Are you awake now?" as he is running behind the jeep that is still in motion - it was the craziest thing I have ever seen but hysterical!

We arrived at a flat site in the countryside where Hamid and his team unloaded the hot air balloon in pieces off the back of a trailor, which I will admit at this point was a little scary to not see it all together when we arrived. BUT, it was really interesting to watch them pull it together and we got to enjoy a beautiful sunrise whilst snacking on chocolate croissants and tea. When the time came to go up I couldn't beleive the noise from the flame above us - not to mention the heat! No wonder Hamid was bald - I was suprised that any of us had eyebrows left after this trip. When the flame wasn't blowing it was really peaceful to just be floating over the villages. Talk about a birds eye view - we were told about the holes that we could see in the dry ground below and how these are all attempts by the Berbers to dig wells and look for water. It's crazy there are whole towns and just a tiny well to support them! We were up there for around 45 min and it was just amazing and something that I hope to do again.

As we were looking for a landing site as it goes according to the wind, Hamid calmly tells us that we need to go up as the wind was blowing us towards some power lines - lovely Hamid couldn't you have just sorted that out without telling me???
The group before us that came down had a tiny crash landing with the basket dragging along the dirt ground, so I was bracing myself for the same kind of landing. Instead
Mr Hamid decided to give us a perfect YouTube moment and land the hot air balloon right onto the back of the trailer on the track from which they were to load the balloon back onto!!! I thought he was joking, but them I realised he was deadset serious and he did it perfect I couldnt beleive it! It was really interesting to see that with the landing he has his crew on the ground driving and trying to work out where he will land.

We asked how do local land owners feel that he lands on their property and he said they are usually ok, sometimes you have to pay them for some damage to their crops but when he started the business he took all the local families up for a ride and to get them onside and it appears to have worked a treat. It was really beautiful when we floated over one village and a mum was outside with her son pointing at our balloon and waving - it was a sweet interaction from a different perspective with the locals.

At the end of the trip we were taken to a local Berber village that belongs to the crew that have worked for him for the last for years. It's a massive collection of mud brick homes - very simple dwellings where they use bamboo in the roof for "Berber air conditioning". The Berber fridge is a basket hanging in the shadiest and coolest room of the mudbrick homes and this is where they will place their milk, butter, yoghurts, cheese and meats to keep them cool and clear of animals and flies. They showed us the old kitchen versus the new kitchen that the community uses as a result of the women cooking lunch for the tourists who do the tour like us - I still cant work out where they cooked.

Electricity is something very new for this community and Hamid told us that when they first got the solar panels on the roof which the government gives them, the grandmother was so excited about eletricity that she stood there flicking the light switch on and off to show the tourists how it works, not realising that this is something we take for granted in our countries.
The toilet was suprisingly clean - a tiled hole in the ground in the middle of a room and outside is a massive terracotta pot filled with water, which you take a small bucket and dip in to take water into the toilet with you to flush - luckily Berber Belly wasnt playing up that day! :)

After our tour of the village someone had cheekily told Hamid it was my birthday so next thing I know there is a huge cake, decorations and even my age printed on the cake. Hamid had even made a whole CD of birthday songs in both English and Arabic which they blared out of the 4WD parked next to us for the next 30 minutes!!! I think Im mentally scarred by that song for life!!! We were then taken for a camel ride which was randomly placed in a parking lot in the middle of no where and the old mercedes taxis of Morocco would pull up with tourists who would pay a fortune Im guessing to walking around this palm tree parking lot in the midday heat on a camel for 10 minutes.

The next day we took another tour with Morocco Explored this time up to the Atlas Mountains, Ait Ben Haddou and Ouzazzarete. Thankfully we were in a comfortable Toyota Prado as we drove up the windy Atlas roads from 8.30am until 1pm where we were able to visit these sites then drive back at 2.30pm to arrive at 7pm - it was a really hard drive for me as I felt motion sickness the whole time and migraines threatening to ruin the trip.

Ait Ben Haddou was an amazing site that is now UNESCO heritage listed and currently being conserved - its an old mud brick kasbah that has been used in movies such as the Gladiator & The Mummy - it's absolutely beautiful and a real exotic oasis only fitting for a magical childrens story. The drive was truly beautiful and the mountains so amazing I couldn't beleive they weren't paintings. Our driver was very lovely and understood that Im a little snap Jap happy when it comes to taking photos, so would constantly stop the car for perfect photos.

The riad we stayed at for this second visit to Marrakesh was beautifully renovated riad run by a French guy and had a resident turtle that just strolls around the roof terrace. The cheeky guy even nibbled on my toe at one point, thinking that I was food - yes it hurt! He was so cute I wanted to buy one from the markets and sneak him on holidays with me - why cant we have these kind of turtles in Australia??

For the last night in Marrakesh, I decided I wanted to go and check out the newly revamped La Mamounia hotel, which is the location they shot the recently launched Sex in the City 2 movie. I didn't think I would be that into it, but I must say I was truly excited as we took a horse and carriage to the hotel which was the perfect way to arrive and once inside it was the most gorgeous hotel ever!!! Next visit to Marrakesh I need to stay there! The ambience and decoration from the gardens, the foyer, the pool and piano bar was stunning and of course I ordered a Cosmopolitan as this is something the girls would have done right? I could really see the spots that I guessed they must have shot some scenes, so Im looking forward to actually seeing the movie so that I can see if I was right. There was no more perfect way to end the stay in Marrakesh!

Next blog... Fez and the Scared World Music Festival.

Morrocco's beachside town Eassouria

So far Morrocco was as I had expected, if not better but it was time to put Marrakech on hold for a couple of days and go check out the much spoken about Eassouria on the West coast of Morocco.

It's known as the windiest city in North Africa and I promise you this is no word of a lie - tourists get sick of the wind its that strong and ever present. To get from Marrakech to Eassouria is an approximate 3 hour bus ride with a company called Supra Tours, who seem to have the Morroccan domestic market wrapped up along with their competitior CTM. One thing to note is that the seats are totally cramped - as in I think they snuck in an extra row at the comfort of the passengers as I'm glad I've down yoga to help me get comfy in the seat! It wasn't too scenic a drive, more countryside harvesting olives and wheat and a lot of road works happening. The current King Mohammed 6th is known as the King of the people and appears to be upgrading roads across the country in order to better service tourists and locals alike - sounds like a nice guy.

Arriving early afternoon we had no luck contacting the riad who the booking agent told us he does not speak English but just call say your name and supratours and your arrival time and he will understand. So we never reached him so decided yet again (every arranged pick-up so far has never happened) it was time to wing it. As you hop off the bus there are taxi and luggage cart touts all hassling for your business. As usual I insist on ignoring them until most have been taken by the tourists and the less aggressive ones are left behind. In this instance a young boy that wanted my attention from the start patiently waited by my side so I decided to ask if he knew of the riad we had booked and he pointed it out on his very old crumpled map. I asked how much and we agreed on 40 dirham (which is probably too much but he's a student) so in our bags go into his trailer looking luggage cart on two wheels and we follow him through some run down looking gardens and end up at one of the many gate entrances into the walled Medina.

First impressions is that it is a beautiful cobblestone walled city and spectacular ocean views - just the perfect change from the big cities I keep finding myself in. Narrow lane ways with tall stone buildings and hole-in-the-wall shopfronts with their traditional Berber carpets hanging on the walls make the walk colourful. Even in Eassouria we find more cats begging for our food and attention. The locals generally aren't too interested in the tourists unlike the tourists hungry Marrakesh and this too is refreshing.

Through an English site we found a little riad and booked out the top floor room with its own private terrace. This was definitely the highlight of this riad for me - there was like an attic ladder that lead to a glass sliding door in our roof which we could climb up and access the rooftop terrace which we could see all around the rooftops of the Medina and beyond the grand old sandstone walls out to the Atlantic ocean. The breeze was very refreshing at first - just a little painful after a day though as your ears start to hurt :( We even had a visitor come through the rooftop door one evening - a resident cat that would meow for love each night... next thing we know its come in to say hi and looking for food. One thing we quickly noticed about Eassouria is the size of their seagulls - damn chickens! As we would sit to eat breakfast on the roof terrace I was always consciously keeping an eye out for these predators thinking, just imagine if they decide to attack for some food!

Eassouria has a main port that each day hundreds of fishing boats bring in their nightly catch for sale at the fish markets. Locals and tourists can buy fresh from the boat and take them to a man who will cook them for you, alternatively there are little stalls lining the main garden of the port displaying fresh seafood which you select and they will cook for you. I have to say that I was a little disappointed in the flavour as they added no herbs or spices to the seafood, which being Morocco I would have expected that they did - but it was the experience and the fact that you could have fresh seafood - fish, calamari, salad, drinks, sea urchins (note to self: never eat them again eeeeeeeeeeeeeek!) and drinks for less than $20!!

Walking through the windy bazaars there was no pressure to buy, just friendly shop sellers who would occasionally greet passersby with a Marhaba (welcome in Moroccan Arabic). It's the perfect weekend away to write postcards and blogs - but in my case I had no Internet access so I just got to enjoy the town instead. I admit that I came to Morocco with the intention to purchase a carpet from here or where I actually thought I would actually find it in Turkey- well I finally bit the bullet in Eassouria and bought a beautiful red, black and white carpet from a young Berber guy who made the bargaining process fun and I felt we both walked away happy with the outcome. On the other hand I did have one rather near nasty shopping experience with a old guy that I bought a jumper from as I was freezing at dinner so thought I would quickly drop in and buy something cheap for the night. We agreed on a price of 150 and I gave him 200 and waited for my change - he said he needed to go and get change - alarm bells slightly rung but he seemed really sweet so I dismissed the thought. When he came back he said I owed him 100 so he could give me change and I was caught off guard actually wondering if I had infact not given him enough. Luckily I knew exactly how many notes were in my purse so I knew he was testing me to see if he could get away with it. I polietly smiled and firmly explained to him that I knew how much I had in my purse and that he was confused and I took a step closer as I was significantly taller than him and that seemed to do the trick as he quickly handed over my change.

On the last day we decided to go do a half day horse riding expedition with Ranch de Diabat who come pick you up and in a cool 70's hippe VW wagon and drive around 10 minutes out to their ranch which reminded me of a Mexican stable. One thing I am in love with is the horses from the Middle East - they are huge and such stunning horses. Every horse at this range had a very healthy coat, mane, tail and perfect weights. I was given Atlas who was a stubborn horse - little did he know about his rider. At one point or should I say twice, just before lunch Atlas started playing up and decided he didn't like the hilly terrain we were walking down so suddenly I looked like I was one of those Spanards riding a horse in a mid air pose with the horse on its two hind legs! Thankfully I had my left hand already holding the saddle and some of his mane and the right holding the reins - as he launched into the air I squeezed my thighs and knees in and held on tight whilst somehow knowing how to control him to get him to co-operate. It was actually quiet dangerous but I loved it at the same time. We took the horses onto the straight beach which was perfect and I kept practising my trot with Atlas, who was more than happy to burst into a mini run. I'm sure it wouldn't have taken much more to make him break into a full blown gallop but he was too big and strong for me to even brave the idea. Our Berber guide took us into the tree groves and unpacked a picnic lunch for us - sardines, rice, tomatoes, bread and coke. Along the walk back we came across many wild camels grazing, but thankfully none looking to fight with Atlas. It was the perfect finish to the days in Eassouria, but my butt was not so grateful for the punishment and for the next 2 days I sulked about my bruised thighs and butt probably from my attempt to be pro and trot for the half day with Atlas.

That afternoon we took the bus back to Eassouria and I just couldn't take the pain in my legs or the constant migraines I have had pretty much everyday going on 4 weeks! So in true backpacker style I found myself lying on the dirty concrete floor in the shade with no shoes on as I waited for the bus to board. I knew I was being looked at in disgust by the locals, but the pain was preceding and I was anxious about the tiny seats for 3.5 hours back to Marrakesh - in the end it was all fine as I just tried to sleep most the way to make it go faster.

Eassouria was the perfect few days away from the hectic Marrakesh and I would definitely recommend it to anyone visiting Marrakesh - even if you only have time to do the Supratours or CTM bus day trips - you will love the photo opportunities of the fishing boats, fish markets, walled Medina and the views over the Atlantic Ocean.

Next blog Marrakesh the last 3 days....

photos

Marrakech - the first two days

Once I settled in it was time to explore Marrakech and see if it lived up to the hype! The main square that I had lunch at during the day (Djemaa el-fna) is abuzz day and night. Snake charmers, Berber doctors and dentists, acrobats and muscians with huge copper castanets that remind me of a more developed version of the woodon ones they use in Rajasthan, India (again see the Gypsy trail). At night old men with lanterns sit and tell stories whilst local crowds gather around to hear their stories - I was so fascinated at their love for story telling. Im not talking about one many doing this - throughout there square there would be 6-10 of these guys with their story telling, sometimes they had a singer or music to accompany their stories - if only I knew what they said!!

Then there was the male cross dressing bellydancers - that you wouldnt realise as they are in full galabia (like a kaftan) and a head and face veil - thanks Lonely Planet for the warning otherwise I might have gotten excited and wanted to join them. Then there was muscians playing the traditional music of the Gnawa - I just cant beleive how much like South African music they sound - I dont know why I was shocked but their rythyms and voices sounded so similar I was really shocked but really excited - I seriously wanted to jump into the middle of the circle and dance, but was a little put off when Im trying to video and within a second on of the band members stands in front with his hat asking for money - couldnt you wait?? no thats the point - no pay, no watch.

I didnt spend as much time in this square day and night as I would have liked to and if I revisit I will ensure I get a guide to interpret the stories for me as they appeared very intriguing.

You read about the Medina's and their winding alley ways and how you will get lost and have to pay a child a few dirham to help get you out - that didnt quiet happen, we just never found what we were looking for!! To find one mosque should have been pretty simple - look up into the sky for the minaret, but the walls tower so high that we must have walked past it a million times over!

We stumbled across the Museum de Marrakech - which is a showcase of old black and white photos, lots of beautiful old kaftans all housed in an old riad with a gorgeous centre courtyard perfect for some mint tea - I think this was my last glass there as I just cant stomach anymore!

The disappointing experience here was there was a lovely curvey old Berber maid there to serve us tea in the courtyard, she would do what they all do and hold the pot in mid air letting the tea pour into the gorgeous Moroccan tea glasses. I thought she would make a perfect photo so asked if she would mind - of course not but for a few Dirham only! It was also all hush hush of course as Im sure her manager would not approve of harassing tourists for such rewards. On this particular day I was struggling with the fact that no Moroccan would pose for photos, unlike in Turkey where everyone would happily pose and not expect a dime in return. Marrakech was proving to be the complete opposite - I was taking an alley way shot of a camel cart and a few people - no close up's, just a street scene and this old man goes off. I checked incase I had taken photos of a veiled woman which is a no-no, but I hadn't and this just kept happening all morning to the point where I gave up on taking photos and cursed at everyone perfect photo opportunity that I was missing - and there were lots!

Walking through the lane way we came across a carpenter who was actually happy to pose for a photo as he took a piece of cedar wood and turned it into a chess piece within a few seconds using his feet, hands and some old tool. Of course, it was a sales tactic and after my photo we had to go into the store and look "only looking" which turned into a purchase - a wooden magic box that you have to push and pull and few things to find the key and open it from the hidden lock - they have way too much time on their hands ;)

One really nice encounter was in a little glass bottle store - you can buy all sizes and shapes of glass bottles set in silver with embossing for use with perfume, oils etc. I decided they were perfect and liked he was away from the tourist trap so expected better prices and that he would probably get a decent cut too. So after a friendly banter of negotiations in French and through the help of a calculator and pen and paper to confirm prices, they were sold. At the time I was wearing my blue kaftan and a white headscarf - mainly to keep the sun off my head but also as we were in a local neighbourhood and I wanted to be respectful covering up. It appeared my efforts did not go unnoticed with this old guy who claimed I looked like a Berber woman!

That evening it was time to test out the Moroccan hammams and enjoy a delicious set menu dinner at La Maison Arabe. The ambience in the hammam could not be faulted - lying on a rubber mat, and steam instead of the hot marble platform could be. I definately didnt enjoy the hammam being private either - it means you are in a tiny room in black marble, heat and its all a little too claustraphobic. The scrub couldnt compare either - imagine taking one of those exfoliating gloves with only water to your skin - well this is what she did and it was not enjoyable at all.

Dinner on the other hand in the same building was brilliant, delicious selections of Morroccan cuisine in an old renovated riad whilst enjoying live oud and Gnawa music.

Obtaining train and bus tickets for our road trip the next day to Essaouria and also to Fez on the 4th June was waaaaay too simple - Im used to the complexities of trains in India and was bracing myself for a painful experience. Instead the taxi driver who spoke no english somehow understood to wait whilst it took less than 5 min to purchase the train and bus tickets!

Language is a kind of a problem from what I've seen so far - everyone speaks French, Moroccan Arabic and Berber Arabic with only a little English. Suddenly I saying Asalaam Alaykoum in Arabic then Merci in French - Im using 3 languages to communicate what I want and when that fails with prices I start getting them to write it down.

The call to prayer is another interesting observation - at first I thought I was hearing a really loud old scooter stuck in gear - then I realised that it was the Muzzazin's call to pray - then they all started as there were several mosques and unfortunately I have to say it really is a call to pray rather than the hypnotic voices of the Turks call to prayer.

In general Marrakech is a little hectic but the mystery of the city overrides the congestion. I'm heading off to the coast next for a few days rest in Essauriou before coming back to Marrakech for 3 days. Next blog coming soon....

Transit fun London to Marrakech - May 2010

After missing my connecting transfer bus between Gatwick to Luton airports in London - I sat in the freezing cold for two hours waiting and willing the arrival of the next National Express bus. Finally it arrived and I failed to thaw the entire 2 hour trip to Luton, so a "grande tea" was the first thing I ordered at 2am when I arrived and sat on the airport floor in a quiet corner to repack my bag into the mandatory 15kg's per bag - I needed two! Then I decided I was warm enough to sleep sitting in a upright position at a cafe table -my forehead down on the table. yes I did have a hotel room booked and paid in full, but as I missed my bus and would be in there for a 1.5hr sleep max then needed to find a taxi to the airport at 3.30am, it seemed pointless.

I was not the only mad woman sleeping at the airport - one guy pulled three cafe chairs together and lay on them looking like it was a make-shift coffin! Finally they opended for check-in at 3.30am - only me in the queue and thankfully no dramas for a change with my baggage!

After this I headed over to the cattle queue - security screening what a pain in the rear it is in the UK! And get this you know those 20cent machines as a kid you would get a toy from? Well Luton airport is using these to distribute or should I say sell the clear plastic bags that you are required to place all liqiuds in for 1 pound a bag!! Yes its big business at Luton airport!

Boarding my first ever Ryanair flight I was a little nervous and if the boarding process was a sure sign I knew this was going to be fun. After taking our boarding passes they made us stand outside in the freezing cold for another 10 minutes before we could walk across the tarmac to board the plane. Now I'm not a plane snob but... there was no net on the seat infront to hold your magazines ;) seriously it was like the plane was naked without it and so they paste the emergency landing card as a sticker on the seat infront and all inflatable life jackets are stowed overhead. I was later informed that there are apparently not enough for everyone but I'm not beleiving that or perhaps I just dont want to. Oh and did I mention the tragic fashion of the air hostess who was in her late twenties up close but from a distance I thought she was in her 50's with the ugliest blue jacket I have ever seen and a kill me now bob haircut. And her voice was equally irritating especially for a 6am flight - so high pitched I thought she was speaking in Dutch! Admitedlly the flight was ok but the seats and the plane just felt wrong - it probably was also exasperated by the fact I hadnt really slept since leaving Athens oh so many hours ago.

My flight was packed with English tourists going to Marrakech for the weekend- can you imagine??? Seriously Australians have lucked out in that department, we may have some beautiful weather and beaches but why cant we all just paddle the country up to sit in the Mediterranian?? :)

So touch down in Marrakech airport - passport control was soooo painfully long - just on 45minutes. I came out finally looking for my driver as the hotel had promised and no one to be found holding a sign with anything that may have resembled my name, so it was off to the taxi rank for a bit of an adventure. Now Lonely Planet says to tell them to use the meter - have you tried to tell a donkey to dance on command? So my taxi driver laughed and said no no no no - I contemplated opening the boot myself but was so tired at this point that I knew it was time to submit to the taxi gods and pay them an honour fee - 200 dirhams for what should have been 50 dirhams - nice one Kat!

Driving towards the Medina (walled city) I was suprised to see how modern the streets were - at least I'm honest. I was really expecting the city to be like Cairo but in my opinion it's far more modern. Everywhere I looked football (soccer) seems to be the sport of choice for the young Moroccan boys and men and this was a scene that greeted me the whole drive into town.

The houses on the outskirts are concrete blocks that remind me of the Meriton apartment complexes at Moore Park in Sydney - obviously not so glam.

After around 10min of driving, my taxi pulls up infront of a crazy scene of buses, taxi's, street vendors, pedestrians and of course donkey carts. From what he is saying in French and madly gesturing, I guess by looking the direction he points that cars cant go down the laneway and that I will need to take my bags to the Riad myself - great! Just then a old fat guy barges up and points to his trailer looking cart and goes to put my bags inside. I stop him to agree on a price first and see if he even knows my riad that I am staying at. He promises he does and we agreed on 50 dirham - yes locals would die if they knew but its around $5 and I cant be assed at this point. So of we go the fat man happy that he's bleeding the white tourist woman dry and I'm certain that all the locals he greets as we walk down the alley ways are asking how much he ripped me - but I'm just happy to give him a job so he can live off the streets really.

Sometime I go I read a book by Brisbane journalist Suzanna Clarke called "A house in Fez" all about a Brissie couple who fall in love with Morocco and buy a riad (house) to renovate. It was before reading this that I decided to make sure Morocco was on my to see list, but after reading the book, images of sandstone rendered alley ways weaving through mysterious medinas played in my mind. So this isn't too far from the truth and generally the alley ways are kept clean, its just that they look dark and dodgy and grey really so I was a little shocked to just see concrete walls and doors. My Riad was called Hotel du Tresor - a riad renovated by an Italian whose tastes filled the rooms with matisse paintings and Moroccan light fittings - quiet tasteful and perfectly located. We walked into the door with all my luggage and off the fatman went - Adriano the owner greeted me with the offer of mint tea which I would later learn to know as "Berber Whiskey" and loathe the smell due to the huge amounts I had to drink in the first few days and the kilos of sugar they pile into the glass! The riad had a beautiful lemon tree in the centre courtyard that hangs over a small plunge pool - which I was way too shy to use considering it was right in front of the office where the men sat and I was in a Muslim country with only a bikini and cursed myself for not bringing my boardies and rash vest.

The view from the roof terrace over the media showed an abundance of satellite dishes - another scene I would soon become all to familiar with in Morocco. The room had a massive bathroom that interestingly had a rug in the middle beside the big bathtub and one of those gorgeous victorian era chairs in the bathroom - perfect for dumping clothes on or reading in the bathroom perhaps??? The owner took me on a short tour of the surrounding streets so I would have my bearings to get upto the main square and move around.

I was dying to eat so in the main square I submitted to one of the touts and ate vegetarian couscous for 30 dirham ($3.50 approx) whilst people watching - that was still the best couscous I have had so far in Morocco and for a fraction of the cost of those tourist restaurants. It took me all of 2 hours of being in the country to shop :) BUT it wasnt for me I bought gifts so there!

So far I was liking what I saw of Marrakech - a little modern, a little bit of stepping back in time and some scenes that looked like they were from the book Aladdin.

Next blog... Marrakech the first two days.

Greece - the family

After the excitement of Turkey it was time to return to the "homeland" of Greece and see family and friends once again. It's very different when you visit a country to see family versus being a tourist - I am yet to do this with Greece and this is my fourth visit here! I have the same routine - family in Athens then family in the Zakynthos - yes I promise I will check out the rest of the islands soon!

Meanwhile lets start with Athens... I was here last time for the start of the Olympic games in 2004 when nobody thought they could pull it together in time but they did just like every country always does. This was also the same weekend that Greece made it into the grand final for the UEFA cup against Portugal and won which is every Greeks most proudest moment this last decade I think. Being in Athens then the city was alive - buzzing and I loved it! Returning after 6 years however, I found myself questioning what exactly I liked about the concrete city?! I've been dwelling on this for a few weeks now and this has resurfaced now that my sister just visited and said she couldn't wait to get out of there. SO.... I have come to this conclusion....

a) my last time in Athens I was 6 years younger when the bars and clubs of Glyfada were top of my to do list - in 2010 I found myself in a gay friendly bar on a Saturday night with my cousin and his girlfriend for a more chilled and less "to be seen evening".

b)the difference is seeing Athens through the eyes of a local versus a tourist. If you like history then you will appreciate the museums and of course the Acropolis. If you are after pretty architecture along the streets, you really need to know where to look - but it really is now a concrete jungle with everyone honking their way through the streets to get where they need to go (as with most other major cities I have visited).

This time I found everything balanced out - when there was something I didn't like such as the crap side walks with cars parked everywhere and no considerations for mum's with prams, elderly with walking sticks or frames and the disabled dont even get to leave their homes! But then this balanced out with a brilliant metro system that is super clean, efficient and so cheap (1 Euro per ride regardless of distance). I watched the Greek news one night as they showed a story about how with the economy at breaking point in Greece, Athenians are starting to think about helping thy neighbour through little gestures such as....

When you catch the metro in Athens you purchase a blank ticket that you must register in these machines before boarding on the train - it's not like Australian trains where the ticket opens the gate, you could quiet easily walk through without registering your ticket but I did see a few people get booked for not doing so. So when Athenians are doing at the moment, because the ticket is valid for 1.5 hours from when you register it, meaning you could make a return trip - at the exit they are passing the ticket to other travellers who are walking into the station or leaving them ontop of the ticket machines so people dont need to waste money buying another ticket. I know its small but its thoughtful and something a few of us in Brisbane kept doing with our parking tickets back into the machine so people didnt need to buy - pass it forward you know!

So if little things like this are starting to happen in Greece I do have hope for a country that is stricken with red tape and contradictions.

As usual with all my travels, I managed to be arriving into Athens during the heart of the economic debates and riots. Yes I saw the damage to shop-fronts, graffitti on monuments and many rallys that I even walked into without realising until I saw the riot police in their gear having a smoke watching with relaxed nerves - but nothing was that bad - dangerous I mean.

I spoke to family, friends and taxi drivers in Greece to see is it really bad as they are making out on the news and yes it is - its the GFC we just had in Australia - remember those first few months where the headlines spoke of doom and gloom and people (generally 25+yrs) started to watch where they spent and considered the bus as petrol prices got out of control. Well Greece is finally feeling this storm except due to the messed up government everyone is being impacted with the deductions coming out of their pay packet. I have friends worrying about rent next month which is something I recall feeling as a home owner a little while back when the interest rates were rocketing.

OK sorry off track - so yes its the hot topic of conversation in Greece at the moment and I did meet many people who said there's no problem at all (?). But life goes on and I still saw bars, restaurants busy, just not as full as they would usually be. Those in the tourism and hospitality sector and bracing for a quiet tourism year this year with people worried about riots, that damn volcano and the world struggling financially. Having said that my Easyjet flight from London to Athens was full and so were all planes into Zakynthos, but I'm told as many people that are coming in are leaving.

So somethings I noticed this trip that I hadn't paid much attention to previously. So lots of people or most in Athens live in apartments. In Australia your address would be a unit number followed by building number and street. In Greece it's only your building number and your name - every intercom system in Athens lists the full names of those residing in each apartment so you know which apartment to buzz or the postman knows which letter box to deliver to - privacy clearly not being at the top of the list here. So I made the comment to my girlfriend when I noticed no number on her apartment door - when I told her we dont use names she was confused as to how does the postman and friends know which one you are - numbers!

One thing I knew from last time but seems really prevalint now, is that women in Greece dont change their surnames anymore - all the apartment intercoms list the male and the females full name. I asked a few people why and they said have you seen the paperwork for divorce in Greece, so now its not so common to change your name, the children just take their father's surname.

Another interesting fact, this time about Greeks and their babies. When you have a new born baby in Greece you dont give him or her a name at the hospital, you simply call it bebe or baby until you have christened it after 40 days. Whereas the Greeks in Australia call the baby their name from the day he or she is born. So in my cousins case, they have a little girl that I will be christening in September - she will be 1 year and 9 months and still is called bebe!

This was the first time I had come to Greece so early in the year before the summer and tourists really arrived - I see why. Whilst Athens survives year round, the islands on the other hand dont have that beautiful summer sun perfect for the beach. The entire time I was there I missed out on my daily beach sleeps, instead I was wearing winter jackets and sneakers to keep warm and avoid the puddles! It's hard to imagine what life would be like of the islands outside of the summer - generally I dont think we even think that the islands could experience such depressing London like weather, but they do! But it's a different life, everyone says you hibernate during the winter then work and play in the summer - there's a concept working 6 months then relaxing 6 months!

I found myself freaking out for my family who wait for the tourists to come at the start of summer each year - it was just weird to see my little island empty and with no night atmosphere except for a few bars with English tourists getting in whilst package tours were cheap and the heat comes too.

In Athens I managed to go for a swim and jetski just a few kilometers out of town, and had my cousin not been so insistent that it wont be too cold, I dont think I would have beleived him - it was in fact perfect weather and we found the cutest little isolated pebble beach with water as flat as "lathi" (oil) as my cousin kept telling everyone.

Another favourite Athenian treat that I am now hooked on aside from the Yiros with Patates (chips) is Crepes with chocolate and fresh strawberries - mmmmm Alex my thighs thank you! On my last night in Athens we decided at around 12.30am to treat me one more time to this delicacy and took a drive which should take 20-30min but the speed that my cousin took to the freeways of Athens that evening I thought was my last day on earth. Not to mention we literally flew past a Police car on the freeway doing more than 160km p/hr and when I pointed this out to my cousin he laughed and said "dont worry they do nothing" and that they did!

One thing they are doing now though (when they can be bothered and in between smokes and frappe) is booking people (in the front only) for not wearing their seat belts - finally! So most people are paying attention and wearing them to avoid the 300 -500 Euro fine - ouch!

It was interesting to go to Greece this time as now all my cousins are basically married or with babies, so I knew this time that there would be no late night bouzoukia's - but alas thats what grandparents are for right?! And although the economic climate didnt permit for expensive nights at the bouzoukia (greek singers, live bands, dancing on tables, trays of carnations, bottles of Johnnie and leaving in time for breakfast) we still managed to visit a few bars on the island that were packed with "youngsters" who clearly thought they were posing for Vogue magazine much to my amusement when I would remind my cousin they are in a village!

One thing I have noticed this time and I'm not sure if its the economic situation, but everyone works and eats ridiculously late now. I just dont remember my cousins working so late previously, now they are starting at 9 till 10.30pm, sometimes later then having full steak dinners at 11.30pm!!

This was also the first time I managed to get my hands on a car for my stay in Zakynthos so managed to do some exploring around the island and found little villages that looked like they were out of Tuscany!! A lot of English tourists are buying houses on the island and restoring them as their annual holiday homes - the sheer number of them walking into my friends store attempting to speak Greek and purchase their groceries astounded me!

Also this time the once Albanian refugees that Greece were trying to rid are now accepted and well integrated into the community. There is definately still a stigma attached to being Albanian, but its quiet common now for the mix marriages between Greeks and Albanians who have learnt the language and appear to be happy calling Greece their new home. Instead in Athens in particular, but all over Greece there is a major influx of male African refugees from the likes of Sudan, Mali and Somalia - if you want Loui Vuitton handbags, purses, sunnies etc Athens side walks are the place to be! The police occassionally harass them but it appears they are trying to be tolerant. My gut feeling is that the Greeks are a little scared of the sheer number of them pouring in from Africa and also Afghanistan and India. It appears the Indians and Afghanis are cleaning car windows, selling tissues and this sticky goo ball and have left the designer goods and DVDs to the Africans.

The thing that got me the most is their grasp of the Greek language as one African guy accosted me to buy some bags from him in Greece saying to help him out. I hope things settle and on goods terms they too can be accepted and call Greece home as most of them have had a tough life and time to make it all the way to Greece.

One place I always visit in Zakynthos and means a lot to me is the church of St Dionysios - the island patron saint whose body is mummified and brought out on the 24th Aug each year for a major festival. The church is infact a monestary so photos inside are not permitted but I just love to go in and sit and make my wishes to St Dionyssios. It's very sentimental to me especially since it's my fathers island and the saint which he is also named after. Every visit I never fail to purchase too many St Dionyssios icons for home! I also love to go up to a special village where my father is from and my grandparents are buried to pay my respects and sit and observe the island below. This time whilst I was cleaning the grave the caretaker came over to tell me that her grandmother and my grandmother were sisters - I love family trees and small village life!

So my stay in Greece wasnt touristy, I observed alot of things I perhaps was too young previously to notice and I spent quality time with my family and their families eating copious amounts of food that I thought was mains but was only entrees! I'll be back there in September so hopefully I can catch the last of the summer sun before its winter once more.

Next blog... Morocco