Athens to Nairobi....July 4th, 2010

After a rather last minute trip to the Greek isles, it was Monday morning and time to pack my bags AGAIN - I've lost count and dont bother anymore. My very sweet cousin insisted on walking me to the platform to get the train to Athens airport and I find myself daydreaming on the train wondering where this next adventure will take me and what doors of opportunity it will further open.

I booked my flights through a new website I've never tried before but now use it as my first go to when Im trying to work out how to get between airports and get a selection of airlines with ok prices. rumbo.com if you want to check it out. So I booked return flights between Athens & Nairobi via Istanbul as it was cheaper and flying with Turkish Air. It was exciting to have food included in the bill for a change :)

I arrived 11.30am into Istanbul airport exhausted from the long weekend layzing by the sea :) I had to kill time until my flight left for Nairobi (or Nairobbery as they call it) at 6.30pm that night, so I visited every store, surfed the web and paced the airport for several hours. At one point I sat on the floor in the quiet end of the airport upstairs outside the club lounges working out how much I need to convert into USD etc for the trip. I was so tired that I wasnt really concentrating, got up and went to the other end of the airport to change money. When I got there I couldnt find my money belt in my bag, so I unpacked it twice - still nothing. I checked out the toilets and went into a nearby lounged I had been sitting next to, to see if anyone had handed anything in.

As I was walking into the second lounge to ask the same question, it hit me what I was saying.... I had lost my Australian passport, travellers cheq, credit card, key cards and all my cash - I only had my greek passport on me!!! I could feel tears start to well as I panicked and as Im walking into the 3rd lounge hoping for a miracle, a cleaner comes running up to me with my money belt! He is asking that I check that everything is inside and then off he runs! It turns out that when I had gotten up to go to the toilet I had left it on the floor!!!!! Usually I wear my money belt religiously but as I had come from Greece where I am a little relaxed about security I didnt have my belt on as I planned to wear it on the plane before I arrived in Nairobi - lesson learnt!

So finally I was on the plane to Nairobi - my flight had a mix of both Africans and Caucasians - yes I was observing. We landed at 1.20AM and Im all ready to look mean in downtown Nai-robbery but silently praying the driver we arranged had waited for me. After changing money and realising they ripped me only to then realise I was thinking in Tanzanian shilling and this is Kenya so he was giving me Kenya shilling - Doh!

Thankfully my driver was waiting outside and off we went on our 30min drive to the hotel that I would be spending a whole 5 hours at! By the time we got moving it was well after 2am and the roads were empty, my driver was fantastic. We spoke about the World Cup the whole way - he was so lovely it was such a pleasent releif to what I was expecting. We arrived at the Kenya Comfort Hotel where I was staying in Nairobi - from outside it looked like an old Australian corner pub - 2 young security guards all rugged up and carrying batons come over to help me with my bags. We got into reception which still looked like an old pub and there are the two girls behind the desk, asleep with their head on the counter. My driver bangs his hand on the counter and they both jump about 10 feet!

We all giggle including them and they shyly apologise. The coolest reggae music is playing and I at 2.30am after flying for 6.5 hours and finding that Im dancing along to the music!!
One of the girls takes me up to my room at the end of a long corridor and with a simple push button lock on the back of the door. My room is all windows as it is on the corner overlooking the street below. It looks yellow but welcoming and I am immediately at ease feeling safer than I thought I would. I climb into bed with the lamest smile.... the real adventure has begun... why do I love travelling to such hard countries? Because the reward for your effort is greatest there!

Next blog.... Nairobi to Arusha

St Jude's or St Judie's as the locals say -Tanzania

You know sometimes you have this feeling you are just meant to be somewhere - Im not sure if everyone gets this, but as lame as it sounds I've had that feeling about both Africa and India for a very long time. I dont know what started it - maybe its the millions of true stories I obsessivley read about these regions, maybe its the fact that these places are so poor and as a little girl I was fascinated by Mother Theresa's life and those that she helped. Now dont worry I'm not about to repent and become a nun - ha ha I can imagine my mum laughing right now! I often claim to be an angel but we all know Im lying :)

So back to the point.... Since reading Gemma Sisia's book about her mission to set up School of St Jude, I decided to add this as a charity of my choice and used my dance school to raise funds. I dreamt of going to Tanzania and helping in anyway that I could.... I just never dreamt that this would be through photography - which is such a bonus as its my favourite me time hobby!

It was April this year after galavanting around India that I saw the photographer job come up at St Judes - I looked through all my pics from my travels and thought it's time to take this "creativity" somewhere - heck if I can make dancing work for me, I can get photography moving too! So I applied and after waiting for 2 months with no news, I lost hope and figured I wasn't going. Well destiny had other ideas and as I was relaxing in the Canary islands and making plans to explore Spain, Portugal and Lebanon for the rest of the European summer, I receive an email asking me to get to Tanzania asap! At first I didnt take it seriously then as Im booking my ticket the very next day, I realised what was going on - kind of and got very excited!

So after my 3 or so hours sleep at the Kenya Comfort Hotel in Nairobi, I headed down stairs at 6am with my meal voucher for breakfast - ok so that wasnt so exciting but the news about the World Cup was just exciting - I was in Africa while this was happening & today was the rememberance day for Rawanda's genocide tragedies - news that dosent really filter back to Australia.

I was packing my things and looking out the window as it was daylight and a hive of activity - I was told my shuttle bus to Arusha leaves from across the street - I could see a side street lined with shuttle buses and as Lonely Planet warns, lots of touts hanging around. Just then my phone rang and reception told me that the bus driver was there to collect me - ha ha we dont even get such service in Australia if you get a shuttle! So I rushed down with my bags and the lovely door boy with his huge black trench coat, black army boots, cargo pants and black beanie (strange site) wheels my bag over and makes sure that I am getting on the right bus. It wasnt as chaotic as I was bracing myself for but once I handed over my ticket to the guy with the clipboard, he said I could sit inside... but I've learnt from India - never assume they your big bag will make it onto the bus alone. So I politely declined and said I was happy to stretch while I could since it was a long drive and stood outside in the cold with the smokers whilst keeping an eye on my backpack. I could see that they intended to throw it up on the roof of the bus - which eventually did happen and they even cover it with a tarpoline.

Meanwhile I started to get stalked by the 5 or so African guys roaming the crowds with their beaded necklaces, bangles and assortment of wooden stuff that you can buy from the $2 stores in Australia. One man was quiet insistent with his copper bracelets and we started to have a competition between us to see who would cave first - ha ha little did he know who he was messing with! It didnt end nasty but I thought it was hilarious that he kept saying in a true African accent "So you wont let me have a taste of your money" I told him if he was hungry he should take an early morning tea break ha ha - I know I crack me up too!

So eventually we all pile into the mini bus - I scored a window seat - much needed as its a 5 hour bus ride. I have read everywhere and all I keep getting reminded is "T.I.A" - "This is Africa" I think Im screen printing a shirt if I cant find one with this on it as I would later learn this is the motto for this continent and one that you need to regularly repeat to keep your sanity :) The bus wasnt too squashy and there was a good mix of locals and tourists - there was even a mum with her two teenage kids from Brisbane on their way to Arusha for a wedding that weekend - that tripped me out, but again I would later meet so many QLDers that I realised they should screen state of origin here!!

The start of the journey was smooth and even on our way out to the airport to pick up some passengers we look to our right and there is a herd of giraffes alongside the highway??!! I was loving what I saw! Our ride was a little over 5 hours and no toilet stop until around 3.5 hours into it just before we stopped at the border of Kenya and Tanzania to get our visas. I befriended the "muzungu" old lady on the bus that spoke fluent Kiswahili and clearly was a missionary with a huge cross aroudn her neck. I found myself extremly jealous of what she was doing here - she had a little African girl called Esther with her, whom she had just taken to the hospital in Nairobi as she needs a heart operation. Turns out this lady runs a charity in Arusha, Tanzania and has lived here for the last 27 years working for both other charity organisations and her own. The one she is now running is called "Help for the Masai" and as the name suggests she works with the Masai communities around Tanzania and helps provide education, clean water and refuge for the poor.

At the border the bus was swamped with touts and locals selling everything from water, snacks, more copper bracelets etc. There was one extremly old Masai lady who came up to my window asking for food and water - after India I have realised Im a little detached from beggars now and have somehow managed to not hear them. So the same happens with this lady and it wasnt until the Muzungu lady from the Masai charity calls her around to her window and gives her fruit and sandwhiches and some money. She talks fluently to the old Masai lady and jokes with her. I felt really bad that I had zoned out and not realised how old this lady was and that she was not pimped out as the kids are in India - she really needed food and money for her family. She as well looked after by our Masai lover though so that was great.

Getting the visa side of things was alot easier than I expected... You get a departure stamp in your passport on the Kenyan side then you walk across a gate like 100m into the Tanzania Visa office - hand your passport and money over to some guy behind the glass window and wait for 10 min till your name is called out and your passport handed back. There's signs up everywhere saying that you must pay in USD and that you notes must be dated after 2006- moment of panic as I thought it was post 2003 - lucky I fluked that and had a $50USD note in the right timeline.

Finally after the worst roads on earth - granted they are building the highways, but my butt wished they were already done as we bumped along heavily pot holled dirt tracks! As we rolled through Arusha town, I asked the girl next to me if this was it and she said yes. In all honesty I was really shocked in what I saw - I hadnt prepared well at all! I guess I just thought things would be cleaner, concrete roads, proper shopfronts. Nope! It was just really dusty, dirty and poor - ok yes what did I expect -something on par with India I guess, not further behind.

We pulled into a dusty parking lot - basically a vacant piece of land and there's a few touts and taxi drivers waiting to bombard us as we get off the bus. Im looking for the St Jude's bus but not sure if Im meant to get off here or somewhere else. I hope off to talk to the driver while trying not to smack the persistent taxi drivers in the head with my daypack. Finally I see the St Judes bus pull in and our HR manager waving from the front seat. I yelled out to the guy on the roof of the bus hurling bags off the roof and got him to chuck me mine. I jumped into the back of the St Judes van and was introduced to our driver. The HR manager briefs me on what I should buy on the way back to the school and advises that I go to the ATM - so we do some grocery shopping, visit the ATM and stop at a corner fruit stall so I can stock up for the week ahead.

I arrived at the school late afternoon on a Monday so had a grand tour and was introduced to a few teachers - I was shocked how big and new the school was. I knew it was big but I just didnt imagine that they had that much support! 300+ teachers, chefs, drivers, guards, gardeners, admin staff - its insane!!! But you can really see the sponsorship money at work here and I liked that fact immediately.

I was really shocked when I was taken to my own apartment - I was half expecting to have to share plus Im one of the lucky one's who gets a room in the new volunteer house called "Bondi". Quality was so not what I was expecting but their partnership with Rotary Australia has ensured that accomodation for volunteers and visitors are safe and comfortable and I guess rightly so for the volunteers who are giving up their family and friends to live here 1 year + to support the school.

I like the fact that there are 24 hour security guards on the door and 2 german shepards roaming the grounds. The guards are mostly Masai and walk around at night with bow and arrows which is hysterical and big sticks during the day. The number of buses on campus is amazing and I later realise the importance of the buses in transporting both the students and teachers - who if it were not for the sponsorship of the buses would have to either walk several hours per day or hop on a few dala dalas (public minivans) to get here.

Straight away I was taken under the wing of one of the volunteers staying a couple of doors down from my room - drinks at the "Water Hole" on the first nite and dinner in the kitchen with everyone. We have a "kitty kitchen" we all pay 15,000 shilling into every week (less than $15 a week) and a roster for whose cooking for 13-15 people who are part of this kitchen. Ive been here two weeks so far and havent cooked - its brilliant!!

The bedroom has a double bed with 4 posts to support the mosquito net - I love it! I lucked out on hot water for the first week as they are still working things out for this new building but I was excited to unpack my bag for the first time since April!!!

Next blog.... Settling into St Jude's way of life

Barcelona

Last time I was in Barcelona was my first trip to Europe as part of one of those bad rep Contiki tours (which I quiet enjoyed!). At the time I was 19 and when I set foot in Barcelona then it was love at first sight and along with the girl I befriended on my tour from Newcastle, we looked at each other and said "I want to live here". A few minutes later we found ourself in a African music store in the middle of Barcelona talking to the owner whose son owned an apartment that was up for rent - needless to say we were all talk and chickened out when it came to going to see the apartment.

But I felt it then and when I arrived back in Barcelona to meet my cousin before heading off to the Canary islands - I felt it again AND still even moreso when I got back from the Canary islands to catch up with some friends from Australia.

I think I have actually met a person who claims that Barcelona was the worst place on earth for her, but it seems that its a city everyone falls in love with. For me its not just the amazing architecture but the beach right in the city, the brilliant food (of course), the language, the people, the awesome fashion and mostly the fact that the Spanards seem to embrace multiculturalism in Barcelona with food from around the world and huge interest in international travel and music. Maybe Im looking for excuses to love it, but thats really how I feel.

So in the first few days there I did the tourist thing on those huge embarressing buses, but I really think its a great way to orietate yourself. We paid a fortune to eat and watch the world cup which had just started when I arrived. Coming back from Canary Islands I was lucky enough to have two friends in town that I stayed with. One couple from Australia who rented an apartment in the Gotic part of town - right near my favourite church St Anna and of course the St Caterina food markets cant be forgotten, more local and less touristy with delicious food.

Gelato became a daily affair in Barcelona (evident by the weight appearing around my belly) and thanks to the good looking guy serving us who embarrisngly recognised us as regulars! One night we watched Ghana vs USA in a bar which was packed and we werent too sure just who they were supporting until the USA scored and of course it was all of them and 3 of us supporting Ghana. We did a little bootie dance to celebrate Ghana's victory as we watched the most silent American crowd I have ever witnessed depart the bar >:)

Las Rambalas - some people hate it being so touristy but I think its the heart of Barcelona - its where people from around the world converge and you can feel the electric charge in the air from the eateries, bars and stores as tourists buzz realising they are in Barcelona. Not to mention the number of Zara stores within a 1km radius and my newly discovered Fnac store AND my favourite - Mango.

Day 2 on my second visit I decided I needed sun and quick, so walked down to Port Vell with my ipod on David Guettas tunes and was psyched for a brilliant swim. The beach at Barcelonitas is definately touristy but its the beach I cant complain and again I was loving the buzz. There's a guy whom Im told has been there for years walking along the beach with a board on his head and donuts piled high in a pyramid and when he arrives you hear him before you see him - he plays a trianlge and sings to the crowd encouraging people to buy the donuts. He's a young blond French guy by the look of it - some people are obviously too embarressed to buy from him, whilst the heavily curvacious Spanish women lying next to me abruptly order him over to devour his treats. The Indians walking along the beach selling beer, soda and if you look like the right kind of customer - marijana.

The chinese and Thai ladies walking along the beach saying - "massage madam" and the Africans selling beaded necklaces, bracelets and offering to do hair braids. The bars that line the beach - totally overpriced but perfect to enjoy a cool beer whilst watching Spain qualify for the World Cup semi-finals! I realise quickly that this beach is exactly what I think Miami beach might be like - there's even rollerbladers and rollerskaters all along the boulevard.

The other thing I love about Barcelona is the bikeways - bikes are a huge way to get around and I manage to score my friends Bicycle card which allows locals to unlock a bike from one point and ride it to another within the hour. So easy to get around.

One observation that my girlfriend and I notice is that all the shoe stores in central Barcelona sell leather flats mainly and for good reason.. you walk so damn much in this city it just wouldnt be practical to where anything but!

One night there's a Michael Jackson memorial vigil taking place in Placa Catalunya and the next day there is a festival with huge puppets walking down the street - this town knows how to party! And lets not forget the afternoon siestas that help you party the night away.

My other girlfriend whom I used to African dance in Brisbane with has returned to Barcelona to start a family after previously living there for 8 years. So Im very lucky to have such a great host to show me around town. We travel one afternoon to a beautiful beach that is a 20 min train ride from De Sants main train station. It's nearly empty this beach and again its calm and beautiful!!!

We do the compulsary waterfall visit which suprisingly I think to be quiet romantic - if you ignore the few thousand tourists around you. Im not one for water fountains, but the lights, the music and the fact its Barcelona - Im sucked in.

We visit a friend one night who is renting an apartment downtown and climb around 6 flights of stairs to her tiny apartment that has the most brilliant rooftop terrace thats privately her's - im hooked!

I definately love Barcelona and will be back hopefully soon!

Next Blog.... Andros Greece

Andros Island -Greece

So plans are meant for breaking and the last few days that I had in the Canary islands proved this when I suddenly found out I had the photography gig that I had applied for in Tanzania - with the catch that I must start asap. So there went my Spain, Portugal and Lebanon plans but for a very good cause. I was able to book some cheap flights with Turkish Air to Nairobi departing from Athens so that I could dump my things at my cousins home.

So arriving on a Friday afternoon into Athens, my cousin decided its time I explore the Greek Islands since I always seem to visit Zakynthos and Athens only. So 5am Saturday morning we are up in the car on our way to Rafina port to catch the ferry that takes 2 hours to get to Andros - part of the Cyclades group of islands. We had the most beautiful sunrise from deck and I found myself enjoying the fresh air on deck listening to some of my soul soothing Bollywood tunes - it was perfect!

We arrived in Andros before lunch and was greeted by my cousins friend who has a home on the island. We piled into the 4wd and drove through the hilly seaside towns - picture perfect! Little white homes built into the hillside and of course what would an island be without tavernas, gorgeous beach coves and boat ports.

We stopped to buy some fresh fish (which thankfully I didnt have to gut) and had a delicious lunch at the friends home. Then it was down to serious business and off to an isloated beach. Europe is plagued with sunbed and umbrella mafia who you have to pay anywhere between 3 - 20 Euro to enjoy the decent part of the beach. It seemed we were in luck and scored a mafia free beach with the beds and umbrellas free! So we spread out and it took us seconds to strip off and get into the flat crystal clear water and caves - water tempurature was perfect and with the snorkels on I saw great fish and huge sea cliffs dropping off into the depths of the ocean.

Paddle ball is all the rage in Greece - as it is with the South Americans on the beaches of Sydney. You ended up fighting for sand and if you are not playing then you learn the emergency brace position to duck from flying balls. We enjoyed delicious souvlakia and beer on the beach mmmmmmmmm meat! One little bit of trivia that I would like to complain about.... in Greece souvlakia is either chicken or pork - mostly the latter. In Australia, the Greeks use lamb, which is just delicious, so I raised this point with my cousins and they all shrugged and said no we prefer pork - crazy!!!

That nite we watched the football - Spain progressing further of course and to watch the game we took the tv outside under the tree where we drank and enjoyed the cool summer breeze. Feeling exhausted that night I retreated to bed whilst the others went to a paniyiri (festival) in the village which we could hear just over the mountain. It seems that huge amounts of tsipuro were consumed that night as I heard one of the boys be violently ill from the top bunk onto the tile floor, trapping one of the other guys onto his bed - it was hilarious - well for me at least.

The next day we decide its time to go to another beach and end up in this amazing cove where you can walk out in waist length water for a few hundred meters. Everyone is starting to drink again but Im here to worship the sun and sea so disappear way out at sea and end up swimming around the corner to a group of rocks beneath a cliff. One rock seemed to be like a sun bed half emerged in water so I climbed up and lay there listening to the water lap and enjoying the amazing sun that dosent burn like in Australia. Before I know it I fall fast asleep and awake to the sounds of my cousins friends calling out my name as they apparently begin to get concerned they have lost me. Lying on that rock was brilliant, there was something special there or maybe I just needed a good day chilling out by the sea - I could have happily stayed there forever.

We had a massive feast that nite - pork again! But this time pork steaks that remind me of brontosaurs from The Flinstones! We have just enough time to pack up and clean the house before heading down for the 9pm ferry. Whilst waiting to leave I find some amazing sweet and bakery stores and now spew that I didnt buy anything after devouring some of the sweets my cousin made. Thats the funny thing about Greece (and perhaps in other European countries)each group of islands has their own special sweet or cheese that you can only buy there, so you are forever seeing Greeks with kilos of cheese and sweets going home.

My first Cyclades island and I love it! Andros down and a few more hundred islands to go!

Next stop Istanbul to Nairobi and onwards to Arusha, Tanzania......

Canary Islands...

A few months ago and over a facebook chat my Italian cousin and I proposed a plan to meet somewhere in Europe to catch up since it had been 6 years since we had seen each other last. Through his "connections" a friend of his located in the Canary Islands invited us to go stay with him for a while, so we booked the tickets and waited.

Getting a flight after a few days together in Barcelona we arrived on the island of Gran Canaria and were greeted by his very sweet parents, whom we would later see just how hospitable and gracious hosts they were too us.

From the air I was a little suprised just how big this "island" was - I was thinking it was like my fathers island Zakynthos... you can drive around it in a day. Somehow I think you would need to drive really fast to do this on Gran Canaria. One thing that is really striking about this island is the vast differences in landscape all within a 10 minute drive. From desert sand dunes, to riviera looking beach villages, amazing gran canyon style mountains and barcelona street facades. I like what I saw!

So because my cousins friend was away with work for a couple more days we were luckily given their family beach bungalow in an area called Masopalamas which is about a 10 min walk to the beach and has a brilliant water reserve for animals by the beach, sand dunes like that of the Sahara and a strip of upmarket resorts for the abundance of German and English tourists.

It was nice after so long to actually be able to cook for myself and clean-up (yes I know what person on holiday would want this) but when you are on a long term holiday you crave weird things that remind you of routine and stability - one of which I loathe in reality.

The ocean in this area was a little rocky at low tide, but it was amazing how much sand the waves would dump over the rocks at high tide, it became a different beach.
My cousin had been driving me mad on the plane talking about his friends kite and finally I got to watch whilst in hysterics as he cursed the kite he was having trouble keeping afloat amongst the sanddune. Its one of those parachuting ones that you operate with both hands and since the winds are perfect here IF you know what you are doing like the guys later showed us you can have fun. I just nearly killed my cousin by bomb diving it a couple of times, so decided that perhaps ill stick to dancing and only consider this sport if they add this as a new weapon in the military that I can operate!

Another strange thing I notice on the island is the taxis.... ive been used to fat old guys, battered old taxis but here on Gran Canaria there are female drivers, everyones very presentable and they are pretty much all brand new mercedes in Masopalams and new cars in las palmas.

When I was booking my ticket to meet my cousin in Barcelona so we could come to Gran Canaria together I didnt realise that the Canary Islands are in fact closer to Morrocco than Spain - 60kn infact! But I later learnt they like to keep themselves very seperate so there are no connections by air or sea between the two.

When our host Yeray had finished work he came to take us to another beach where the main sand dunes are - it looked awesome but sucked to walk up and down to go for a swim. My cousin and I resorted to commando rolls for a bit of fun and I of course found half the sand dunes in the shower that night from our adventures. This beach was infact a nudist beach and the guys found it perhaps amusing that I was so disturbed by the whole scene. We obviously kept our clothes on (could you imagine flying a kite naked??!) but there was one old guy who insited on taking photos of the kite flying whilst he stood there naked and his jewels dangled in the wind. I really really was disturbed and had to keep walking away as it appeared that all the old guys were loving the "free ball" sensation!

We had lunch at the infamou "Pepe Chiringos" (i know i have the name slightlt wrong) its like a McDonalds for the island and has sliced pork (my cousins favourite), and every other kind of dead animal. I resorted for the mixed "dead animal" and didnt have the enthusiasm for it as my cousin who apparently frequented the joint last time he was here. Whilst we were waiting for be served was Australia playing their first game for the world cup on tv - without realising I jump for joy as they score a goal much to my own embarressment so I then decide its time to be invisible for the rest of lunch. (who says im not patriotic to australia)

We went for a drive to some beautiful seaside towns that were so pretty I could have stayed there forever. The water in their ports was crystal clear and alive with little fish - theres no doubt the waters here are healthy and alive. We went snorkelling one day I think in a place called Sardina (?)and it was nice to snorkel and not think about damn sharks for a change!!! The coral was not alive but there were little fish everywhere - made me really appreciate how lucky we are to have the great barrier reef so close to home.

We also managed to have our first ever diving lesson - I dove a big 3 meters!! ha ha but it was good to experience and see if I think I could handle getting my liscense since Ive always been too scared in Australia. I definately felt the preassure on my chest and a couple of times felt pain in my ears but I guess slowly I will get used to it, but its deftinately not my last dive!

We ate at some delicious restaurants including one near these beautiful oceans with the infamous "Gods finger" rock formation that crashed into the ocean many years ago. The food was tapas of course but fresh seafood and the best fish I´ve had in a while. I have a new favourite dressing for food... moho just think garlic breath for the next 10 days!!! Its delicious and you have it on mini potatoes, everything you want I guess. It looks like its the Canary Islands answer to tomatoe sauce.

Eventually we moved up to stay with his family in an area called Las Palmas which is the main city and again with pretty building facades and streets planned out in grids (which one night I manage to get lost on 5 min from the house - i know me lost??!!) I have never experienced such hospitality from complete strangers, I dont know if its a Spanish thing or we were just very lucky but we were treated like family (perhaps even better) and feed like kings! One morning we experienced churros which is like a long coil donut that you dip into chocolate for breakfast - delicious! The crossiants on the island were the best Ive EVER eaten - they could teach something to the French. Then there was my other new favourite Tortillas with potatoes or Spanish omelette - oh I could eat this from the packet day and night! And then I was super lucky enough to be the student whilst his mum showed me how to make paella mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. She only spoke Spanish but somehow we managed to communicate and understand each other through gestures and sometimes a bit of Italian and Spanish combined. I was a little disturbed watching the lobster get killed - i know i know but it was brutal and I just kept thinking of that episode of The Simpsons where Homer has a pet lobster and he dies in the hot water so Homer eats him (yes mum I know im too old for The Simpsons). It was delicious though and I am now all for killing lobsters :)

I was very excited to double on the Ducati to go up the mountain to see an old volcano crater - it was too dark to see it in detail but it looked awesome and to see the city on fire from the San Juan festival was brilliant too.

I think my favourite days of this trip was the day at the nudist beach and the last day for the San Juan festival where traditionally you burn all rubbish on this day so the island has little bonfires everywhere are you choke a little on smoke. But they apparently used to write out their wishes and throw them into the fire and jump over it - a pagan festival but that is no longer allowed so they just do the bonfires and everyone heads to the beach just before midnight for the fireworks and a swim. I wasnt quiet sure what to expect but when we arrived to thousands on people on the beach and in the water and brilliant fireworks I felt like I was on Copacabana beach in Rio! It was kind of like NYE at Sydney Harbour and a nite where the police turn a blind eye to all the young revellers (us included) carrying coke bottles filled with rum around. Everyone had a brilliant night with their friends swimming, dancing, playing instruments on the beach. I would just like to complain that they failed to put those portable toilets along the beachfront so as a woman (unlike the men pee-ing anywhere) I was forced to walk 1km to a bar and beg I mean literally beg to use the bathroom before the biatch finally agreed. The festival was clearly organised by a man - thank you!

3am came and my cousin was keen to go home and pack for our 9am flight, I conspired with the others to change the times on their phones/watches - unfortunately I forgot to keep his camera from him so he saw the time but we grovelled for him to stay out.
Eventually at something like 6.30am (i think) we found our way home so I could pack and be at the airport....needless to say after so much rum I felt quiet ill on the plane and all the next day but felt I had done what the locals do and enjoyed the festival in true Canarian style :)

So thank you to loving hosts we had a wonderful time and are indebited to you all when you want a holiday in Australia :)

On another note.... this is a RyanAir announcement... think twice before booking such a shit airline...if you think you are getting a bargain be warned they will slog you for everything!!! You only get 15kg for the first bag you buy then its another 35 euro for your 2nd, THEN if you like us fail to check in online and print out your boarding pass, expect to pay 40 Euro to the cow behind the counter because she cant move her finger to hit print!!! Then the pilot will make sure the landing is as scary and bouncy as possible oh and not to mention they will try and sell you everything on board and drive you crazy with announcments - smoke free cigarettes for example and 3 euro for a mini bottle of water. This was my second and LAST experience with Ryanair - i would rather swim in shark infested waters next time! OH and they cancelled my cousins barcelona to italy flight an hour prior leaving him to pay 70 euro for a hotel that nite... nice. So Ryan Air you are shite and you got the blog your crap ass service deserves - the worlds worst airline for 2010!

Next blog....last days in Barcelona

Fez World Sacred Music Festival 4-15 June 2010

A few years ago I read a book called "A House is Fez" and it in this Australian journalist talks about a beautiful festival in Fez every year held outdoors in the castles and riad gardens of Fez. At the time I had started to learn about Sufism which I stumbled across after being asked to dance at a DVD launch called Dances of Ecstacy in Sydney. I loved the whirling dervishes and trance dance of the Moroccan Sufi´s and then decided that I had to get there. A girlfriend and I had spoken about Spain and Morocco for an adventure, but she got pregnant and that never eventuated. So nearly 3/4 years later I made the decision that my round the world trip would definately have to include the World Sacred Music festival and in 2010 here I am!

Running from the 4-15 June in 2010 a season pass sets you back approx 240 Euro per person - yes ouch but that gives you A reserve seats to all day and evening shows at the various venues across town. This year the big draw card was meant to be Ben Harper but on the Saturday night, we were greeted at the door with a typed note supposedly from Ben himself saying that he had a "skateboard accident" and was devastated that he couldnt make the festival. My partner pointed out that it was nthe program never actually confirmed Ben in the first place. As it turns out the replacement group for Ben Harper were in my opinion the highlight of the festival and the best show we saw.

Through the agent who booked our riad we paid an additional $30 and she purchased and collected our tickets for us. We arrived to an evelope at the riad with two booklets of vouchers looking like a cheque book. So for each show we take a voucher and opening night we head up the street to the main venue Bab Makina - a beautiful old open air castle I guess you could call it. The streets were barracaded and a crowd of locals gathered across the street - we later discovered the princess was at the opening night so everyone wanted to catch a glimpse.

The security guards are at the venues everyday and night and I commented that they dressed in black suits and ties and very so professional. They were the face of the festival for me, always helpful and happy. Mind you the security at Bab Makina that scanned my bag, failed to see my pocket knife on the night of the princess and every night there after.

I think that those security screens throughout Morocco are a joke as I even got my pocket knife on a plane between Fez and Casablanca and I constantly set off those security doorways with my beeps and no one ever checks!

Back to the festival... so the red carpet was rolled out and seats in the various sections. The opening night was the Royal Cambodian Ballet, which those of you who know I fell in love with Cambodia last year and in particular the dancing. But I have to say that it was a bad decision on the festival organisers part to but such a thing on opening night. It was just to mellow and anti-climax for an opening night w hich should really have gone off with a bang and perhaps used the African band Bamakao Connection instead. It was beautiful for sure, but I felt this would have been better later in the week and something more upbeat even perhaps a song per festival performer on opening night so that people can see whose show they would like to go to that week.

The poor programming continued throughout the festival with singers scheduled in the evenings for the large venue and fantastic groups who go the crowd rocking at the afternoon events. It regularly seemed that they needed to switch the two around and have the relaxing artists in the afternoon garden instead. Additionally we found that some of the performers at the free concerts for the locals were better than ours - that was a little frustrating and again that was purely because they placed the chilled artists in the evening rather than in the afternoon.

Although the festival originally attracted French tourists and locals, there is definately a large contingent of english speaking only guests attending now. So it was very disappointing each night to turn up and at the door they continued to only provide information about that evenings performance in French. Furthermore there was no English introductions to the groups in the afternoons or an information desk at the festival which seemed insane - we hunted the whole festival for a program in English and only finally found it on the last day of the festival - typical!

So that was my rant - the festival needs just a few tweaks to be perfect and if they advertised in places like Australia, USA and England and even Asia their numbers would dramatically increase as it is a fantastic initiative!

As I mentioned the Bamako Connection on the Saturday night were one of my favourites... there was clearly the crowd there that was originally for Ben Harper so once they started with the African beats people got up in their seats and started dancing. Then they managed to get down to the front and the crowds swelled as everyone wanted to dance. This was a true festival scene!

Other highlights of the festival for me included.....

Burundi drummers... of course I love these guys and was so excited to see them on the program. My refugee family I work with in Australia is from Burundi, so I had seen them before and knew how exciting and loud their performance could be.

Rajab Sulieman Trio from Tanzania did an afternoon performance in the Batha Museum gardens which was amazing! Rajab is a very talented Qanoun player which is like a harp that lies on your lap and its so Middle Eastern with its tunes. The music they (qanun, tabla, ciello and singer)played is reminiscent from Zanzibar and it truly was a beautiful afternoon to hear such an amazing group in such beautiful surroundings.

The Sufi´s from Tanzania were perfect with their choreography and beautiful voices. They were different to other Sufi´s that I had seen, these were more like gospel singers. I was really happy with a photo I managed to take of a couple of them one evening. I´ll post it on the side bar of this blog.

Ustad Gholam Hassain and ensemble from India made me cry. The singers voice and the humblness of the group as they spoke in English to the crowd saying how excited they were to be there and for once it was genuine. They had two Indian tablas and an electric Sitar on stage - the Sitar player was brilliant with his compositions and fusion of traditional indian and electric guitar style. They also had two dancers with the classical Indian Kathak dance style bells on their ankles. The tabla player would play a rythm and they would play it back - it truly was brilliant.

The Luxor Musicians from the Nile of Egypt were fantastic with their Mizmar, nei and tabla. They played the saidi tunes of Egypt and even had the famous whirling sufis of Egypt. I really struggled to not get up and dance with these guys.

Dhafer Youssef Quartet from Tunisia ROCKED! There was an oud player, fantastic piano and drummer - the tunes they belted out were brilliant and another real favourite due to not only their tunes but their crowd pleasing personalities too.

The inflated festival ticket prices allow the organisers to put on free concerts for the locals to attend - in theory I like this as I think its a beautiful idea but I think there needs to be a credit to the tourists as we do spend alot of money to be there in the first place and a simple banner or thank you from the organisers to let the locals know that this is the situation is something that would be nice I think. Perhaps they do this but we are not aware, it just did not seem that the locals knew that the entertainment was a result of this.

One thing that I started to love doing during the festival was to walk over to the free concert that the locals attended - mainly for the people watching, the atmosphere and the great "sandwich nazi". Picture lots of stall in the open air with many of their carts built on an old pram. Our favourite was the panini guy who had the most skilled ability to peel a potatoe and egg in two seconds. The most delicious sandwhich with egg, creme cheese, olives, tomatoes and then some other yummies all for 60c a sandwhich!!!!!

Oh and the OJ guy - he had premade stuff in a bottle but as I was worried he mixed tap water I asked him to squeeze some fresh juice. 8cents a glass!!!!!!

The buzz in the air of the festival, the fantastic venues, amazing artists and yummy food make this a must do festival even if for only once in your life!

Next blog.... Day trip to Meknes, Voubilis and Moulay Idriss

Arriving in Fez, Morrocco June 2010

Catching a train between Marrakesh and Fez was a simple enough procedure but just painful as we had no AC for 7 hours meaning that the tiny opening from the window above was barely enough to survive comfortably. I like to think that it was so hot in our cabin from the other 4 passengers in our cabin who talked the entire trip and took all the oxygen :)

One thing we noticed and later discussed is also something that I noticed in India. Travelling by train in these countries complete strangers have long winded conversations for hours on end together and we both agree that generally this just doesn't happen in Australia. We really are quiet conservative. I know many of you may not agree, but you really need to see how it unfolds... strangers take a seat next to each other, greet then start in heated debates and talk for hours like they are long lost friends. They share food even if the portion for themselves is little, they help each other with bags. Its something that I think on planes and trains in Australia we just don't see so much of anymore - if you have a chatterbox next to you people tend to read or plug in their earphones and pretend there is no one around them.

Anyway that was our 7 hours to Fez. Arriving in Fez we were greeted to a very modern and extremely clean train station with all the traditional Moroccan architecture and artisan work from the wood work in the ceilings, the zelij mosaic tile work on the poles and marble floors - I was really impressed. For the first time this trip we were met as had been arranged by a driver at the station. To book this part of the trip we decided to enlist the help of Helen Ranger who is an agent for many of the Riads in Fez and whom I found thanks to the Suzanna Clarke book "A house in Fez". Again we find ourselves piling into a tank Mercedes for the 10 minute drive to the Riad in an area called Batha. Straight away I am impressed by the scenery in the streets - generally clean, traffic lights that people actually follow, road rules, police cars - I know it all sounds normal but remember the places that I have been travelling people rarely obey such advanced technology.

I am told Baksheesh (bribes) are still a common daily occurrence throughout Morocco and as a result we see people in the front of the cars wearing seat belts to avoid 600 Dirham fines or having to slip 100 dirham into their license as they hand it over to the police.

One unique scene throughout Fez is the water fountains - they are obsessed and it seems every neighbourhood has one and it often taps into a natural spring. Surprisingly you don't find people bringing buckets down to take the water as you might in other parts of Africa!

The car pulls up in a cudlesac and some young teenagers come to see if they can make a few dirhams taking our bags to our riad but our driver shoo´s them away. Again we find ourselves towing our luggage down yet another windy lane way to get to the riad. We arrive at a large old wooden door and are greeted by Abdul who is our humble maitre de for the 8 nights we will stay. He´s very quiet spoken and I find it very strange that as an Arab man this is so and that he appears to be either very shy or lack confidence - its really strange in such a culture, but he is the perfect host and nothing is ever too much trouble for him.

Inside the riad is absolutely amazing. It has been restored over a few years by a French woman who up until the purchase thought she could renovate the riad from abroad. She said that after 6 months of seeing no progress, she realised that she would have to move here to see the renovation complete and now she lives here full time. There is a photo album on the coffee table which show photos of the riad before and during the renovation and I have to say I am a junkie for such things! The whole riad is 3 or 4 floors with the home built as a square and a centre open air area for relaxing and where they serve breakfast and dinner. The clever thing about this riad is that they have an automatic roof that they use to close the open air area in the event of rain and yes I didn't believe it possible but it did rain whilst we were there!

Breakfast each morning is served whatever time we arrive - so we take the opportunity to finally get some decent sleep in a huge comfy bed with the shutter windows closed so its pitch black still at 10.30am :) We arrive downstairs and our host Abdul madly begins to scatter around serving us coffee, juice, dates, Moroccan sponge bread, something that looks like a crumpet cross pancake, yogurt and my favourite that I devour for the two of us - pastries mmmmmm.

So Fez has the little red "petite taxi" and unlike Marrakesh where we find ourselves tire of bargaining with the extreme rates they charge for a few KM´s, we are pleasantly surprised when we hope in and say our destinations (me in my most convincing French accent) and the meter kicks off. No trip was ever more than 10 dirham!!! Most of the time the trips are 6 or 7 dirham and we don't even bother to wait for change - seriously we are talking 60c!

The city of Fez has the main wall still standing around the city and its really a case of just throwing yourself in rather than reading a book as the book confused the hell out of me. One thing we did learn from Lonely Planet though is that the government in Fez have realised that tourists tend to get lost maneuvering around the medina, so they have placed coloured signs around the windy medina lanes that you can follow according to whether you would would like to go through the artisan area, copper smiths, museums etc. Sounds easy enough but a couple of times we did a massive circle following the signs so we resorted to hiring a guide for our last day there to make sure we didn't miss anything. All we really missed were a few great painting shops which we ended up cleaning one out nearly of his stock!

The painting shop was quiet interesting. I was convinced we should play good and bad cop with the bargaining for one particular beautiful person, but my partner in crime decided to tell me out loud in front of the store owner -"yes i definitely want this one" not something you want the owner to hear when you are about to bargain - kind of like buying a house you play it cool like you really don't care. Too funny! In the end this young guy showed us he was a prick and wouldn't budge even slightly and on principal as he didn't want to play ball we went to another guy a few doors up and started with a painting each and walked out with 9 paintings in total!! ummm we need a house first perhaps?!

Eating became an sometimes chore in Fez - after Marrakesh and being held hostage to eat dessert which turned out to be my birthday cake! One thing we were realising we needed to start saying was that we didn't want dessert a) we weren't really into the crunchy wafer pancakes and b)we were over the set menu 5 courses!! We had dinner the first night at our riad which was lovely but again too much food - wine was great though! Then we resorted to Lonely Planet for restaurant recommendations.

We really struggled to follow the map to the restaurants so settled on a little place with versace looking tablecloths on the first day - service for food was at least 40 min but definitely the best preserved lemon chicken tajine in Fez. When we went to pay the bill we learnt that Morocco was playing football (soccer for the aussies out there) hence why inside was packed with men and no staff gave a crap about their starving customers. Dinner was delicious though and only around $10-15 for the two of us. The area was ate is in the middle of the Medina with rows of little eateries and their chairs facing the passing foot traffic - reminding me of that in Paris minus the gorgeous men and women of course.

Lonely Planet mentioned a place called Clock Cafe and we decided to check it out as it was highly recommended. We were at the point of giving up when suddenly I got my second wind and saw a street sign and worked it out in a second as I spun around and saw a sign on the inside lane way directing us to the cafe. Its an old riad converted into a multi level cafe with rooms and balcony seating overlooking the downstairs kitchen area. Its owned by an English guy but managed by an Aussie and we both agree the staff were all fantastic and appeared to be like a happy family. One thing I really like about this place is the fact that they offer bellydance, cooking, calligraphy and live music nights. We actually did a cooking class there which was brilliant and I would highly recommend the head chef there who teaches you -Souad. She was a wealth of information and so friendly. We learnt to cook traditional chicken and preserved lemon tajine, eggplant salad, harrira soup and a desert kind of like the baklava nut rolls we make in Greece.

The cooking lesson took us into the fresh food market and Souad cheekily took me to the chicken butcher - he has a room filled with white chickens which he picks up and plonks one on his ancient scales so you pay by the kilo. With a serious face she looked at me and said now it is traditional that you must kill the chicken. I wasn't sure if she was serious but when he handed me the chicken to hold by the wings I realised that she was serious! At first I thought well I have to do this sooner or later don't I, then as it squirmed in my hands I thought this is not going to happen to asked if we could wait till my partner is back as he´d love to do it! She started laughing and the butcher too - obviously I realised this is a common prank she plays with all her clients!

Not only did we buy produce for the meals we were to cook that day, but she also walked through explaining about the traditions of the Moroccan people, the local natural beauty guy who sells the black soap for the hammam and henna for the hair and skin of the women, the water guy who every spring uses some ancient technology to evaporate the juices for rosewater, oregano etc which they offer as cool drinks for guests, to wash babies and as digestive aids. There was even a camel butcher who one night I looked to my right and there was a camel head just hanging from a hook! Strangely enough he looked peaceful with his eye and lips closed and I couldn't get over the long eyelashes! We both tried the camel burgers at Clock Cafe and they were ok, nothing to rave about but heaps better than crocodile or kangaroo.

There was even a lady in the market and her job all day is to make filo pastry and all the locals and restaurants come to place their order with her for the day!

Some customs and beliefs she told us about included:
*In Islam you can have as many wives as long as you can treat them all fairly, which she said is impossible so its really a catch 22 and not really happening anymore.
*children in Morocco are fed separately from their parents until they are 8 years, its considered very rude if your children eat at the table with guests before this age as generally they have not learnt the proper manners and etiquette.
*they don't have bellydancers at their weddings instead they dance themselves and have musicians.
*weddings now days go for 2 days - day 1 for the henna patterns that are applied to the women's hands and feet and day 2 for the actual wedding.
*women keep their surnames in Morocco (as does most of Europe now - come on Australia!!)
*all names for children must have a meaning or you are told to choose from a government list of names.

We were lucky enough one afternoon to see the start of a wedding celebration. I did a stake out for a good hour determined to get good photos and perhaps even an invite to their wedding since that particular day I had dressed like the women in their traditional dress. but alas my dress did not help my cause and we only got to see the start of the celebration as the family were very protective as too many tourists rocked up for photos so they headed inside instead of parading them around the street. The women is carried in an epitaph chair and the man rides a white horse that I will mention got the crap kicked out of it for playing up before the wedding started.

One sight that never ceased to amaze me in not just Fez but all over Morocco is cats. Even as I sat waiting for my flight to check in at Casablanca international airport, a cat strolled on past me inside the airport! Every sight you visit, every restaurant you eat at...cats! And I must say that they are fat healthy cats as the locals and tourists feed them well. There´s a line up of cats out the front of the butcher stalls (I say stalls as all meat is exposed in the open air) every morning they sit patiently waiting for a feed!

Next blog the World Sacred Music Festival in Fez 2010.........