Perdi mis Gafas

Sorry I haven't written in a while. I'm keeping up on all of the details of my travels in my journal, and I will post them soon. However I lost my glasses on the train to Granada and it is extremely difficult to read.

So at first I had written here quick synopsis, but it turned out to be quite long....

2 weeks ago I had a long weekend because it was spanish holiday. So Chrissy and I took a train to Granada right after mid-terms. I met a really nice Scottish guy who worked his way around the world and traveled for a few years before university. Of course I picked his brain about every detail because that is exactly what I want to do. He is studying in Madrid for the semester, and I actually met up with him two nights ago for drinks and we had a great time. Chrissy also met 2 girls who had been backpacking for 2 months and who were from her town and knew a lot of the same people! The world just keeps getting smaller. In Granada we hung out with girls, Rita and Susan, visited the Aluhmbra and feasted on free tapas. In our hostel, we met two nice guys from South Africa and England who reccommended we go to a small village in Chefchaouen in Morocco. As we were already planning on going to Morcoo next we decided to take his advice.

On the train to Tangiers where we would catch the ferry, we met another traveler who also reccommended Chefchoauen. With that our minds were made up. We took the ferry from Tangiers to Algeciras, then caught a taxi to the bus station. When we arrived it was mayhem. A mayhem in which we were the only female's within sight. While making our way into the station a man yelled out, "Chefchoauen! Chefchoauen!" I turned around and he indicated that the bus waiting outside was heading to the little town. He pointed to the arabic sign in the front window of the bus, and confidently announced, "See, Chefchoauen." No, I don't see, but should I take you word for it? After paying for our tickets (350 dirhum, $3.80). Once we got settled into our seats we doubled checked with the other passengers that the bus was indeed going to Chefchoauen. The tempterature, rose, and not a woman got on, and we quickly relized it would be a long ride. About 4 hours later we stopped at a restuarant for a break and dinner. It took ten minutes to make my way to the counter to get us some soup. Outside while looking for seats I ran into a nice American Kid who was with 2 other friends, they are all studying in Madrid, but were on holiday like us. We're actually hanging out with them tonight. They told us some interesting stories about being barred in a guys house in a little town they had just come from. Hmmmm, I felt all warm and fuzzy. So I asked him, "Well have you seen any other women travelers." "Uh, no, actually none."

Once we arrived in Chefchaouen and made our way to our hostel that was reccommended to us by a kid we met. The town turned to be absolutely amazing and hardly sketchy at all. We immediately collapsed into bed, for after 13 hours of travel we were exhausted. We actually slept in the next morning, and it was soooo great to get the extra sleep. In the morning we met a nice group of UVA kids who are studying in Copenhagen for the semester. We picked a time to meet for dinner then went off to explore the town. We spent the whole day wondering the streets and stopping to look at the unique crafts. We walked up the mountain next to the town and followed the path to the ruins of an old mosque. It was a bit sketch though so we made our way back down with a group of spanish kids.

The next day we took a bus to Fez, which is situated farther south in Morcco. It was an interesting bus ride. Interesting and very very hot. It wouldn't have been that bad if we had stopped for a food or bathroom break, but we went straight through for 7 hours. I met two nice kids on the bus though, Gabrielle from Canada, and Yanick from Belgium. They didn't have a hostel so they joined us in our search for ours (which the UVA kids recommended). Just about every hostel we stayed in was recommended by travelers we met. So Gabrielle, Yanick, Chrissy and I strapped on our packs and made off into fez in search of our hostel. An hour later we found it and gratefully collapsed into our beds. After a nice hot shower and brief nap, Chrissy, Gabrielle and I went out for dinner. We had a great time and relished the amazing food the owner lavished on us. As soon as we returned to the hostel I passed out and didn't wake up till 7 the next morning. Chrissy and Gabrielle stayed up talking for hours about their different culture and lives. It was a conversation I was sad to miss, but if you know me you know I LOVE my sleep.

The next day I woke up early and made my way out into the quiet streets. The difference between the morning and day was amazing. Hardly a soul was awake, for they had been up all night for Ramadan and most were sleeping in. I was able to learn my way around the area surrounding our hostel and to truly appreciate the intricacies of the city. The dirty streets I had seen the day before were now perfectly swept and small neat piles of trash dotted ally ways. A donkey passed with two huge bags resting on its back. A followed closely behind picking up the piles of rubbish and dumbing them in the bags upon the donkey.

I made my way to a small cafe and enjoyed a glass of mint tea. Mmm, mint tea is definately my favorite thing from Morocco. I struck up a conversation with an interested french man sitting at the table next to mine. It turned out that he had been traveling with his wife through Morocco by moped for two weeks. His wife had returned home to France and he was continuing on for a few more weeks. He was an amazing example of an adult that never looses his desire to travel, and money does not keep him from going anywhere. Instead, he stays in hostels and finds ways to cut costs, and as a result he travels much more than any american adult.

After my tea and people watching I made my way back to the hostel and the girls and I went out to breakfast. Afterwards we joined up with Yanick and tried to locate a guide to show us around the medina. The medina is the maze of streets that makes up the old part of Fez and it is extremely difficult to navigate alone.

My eyes are completely out of commission for now but I'll finish later...