Toronto arrives on the adventure

This past month I have been traveling with friends from home. We have been taking Morocco and Spain by storm.

The experience has had its pluses and minuses. I have missed my friends quite a bit this year, perhaps more so than I thought I would. I had planned our meeting time with care. Not too early on so that I would have had plenty of solo experiences before seeing them, and not too late so that it wouldn´t feel like the beginning of the end.

However, I had not realized just how much of home would be coming with them. In the past eight months, home has been something I could choose to deal with or push aside quite easily. That has been the benefit of traveling alone. Even when I met up with my mother for a short visit in June it was not like having all my responsibilities laid before me.

With my friends here I feel myself slipping into thoughts about work, relationships, life balance, etc. All the notions I choose to get away from this year so I could get a clearer perspective or simply reboot my ideas all together. These topics are not foreign to me this year, but I have not had to face them so directly like I have these past weeks. My friends certainly did not set out to bring this extra baggage with them. I suppose it was inevitable.

I knew my thinking and outlook would change over the year. How could it not. I didn´t plan to work on anything specifically, but hoped that many of my beliefs would be examined and tested in new light. What I have found in the past weeks is that my tolerance for many everyday things is different. I am not as caught up with constantly evaluating things. I don´t set expectations as much or as high. This then allows me to enjoy what is before me for what it is, far more than what I expected it to be. This is a big break through for me. As many of you know, I have lived by set standards and established expectations most of my life. I needed to experience something in my mind before setting out in real life. Now, I find I am more likely to just show up and experience what is on offer; good, bad or otherwise. It makes for far less anxiety and stressed.

There is a downfall to this though. I do find it hard to keep up with people who do experience great excitement or disappointment. I can´t seem to match their enthusiasm and therefore I think I come off seeming blase about everything. Which is not the case. I still do experience highs and lows, but just not in the giant pendulum swing I did before. I need to work on expressing my experiences now that I don´t have the springboard of expectation to work from.

Another change I have noticed is that I not longer see life as black and white as before, especially when it comes to other people. Don´t get me wrong, there are still many fundamental truths I believe in, but the grey shades are more pronounced. Before I would hold fast to my truths no matter the circumstance. Now I think I am more open to interpretation depending on the situation. This is harder to adjust to. Life was simple when there was one set of rules applied to everything. But given what I have seen and experienced across such a variety of populations, it is hard to hold fast to rules than are born from only my history. I am no Zen master - I still get annoyed when someone screws with my plans, but instead of only thinking of them as an idiot I try to understand where they are in their life and how their actions are designed (that´s usually when I realize they weren´t scheming to make my life miserable) . I still have a long way to go
with opening up my perspectives, but I feel like I have made a chink in the fortress.

I have no idea whether these changes, and others, will remain with me once I return home. Hopefully the evolution of Allyson will continue. Until then I will keep trying to experience all that I can. Clearly this year of adventures has made its mark on me. Let´s hope I am recognizable enough to those back home.

As for my friends visit, it has been a highlight for sure. It wasn´t everything I expected (can´t give up all levels of expectations), but it was what I needed. Love, support, hard realizations and laughs that only your close friends can provide. Thanks Celia, Katheryn, Stuart and Manish. I love you all more than you know or I could ever express.

A cultural oasis in the south of Spain

For our second week in Spain, we headed south. We flew down to Granada. We had wanted to make the picturesque drive along the Mediterranean coast, but we didn´t have the time. Besides, Celia and I had spent plenty of time on the road in Morocco.

Granada is the home of La Alhambra. The last Moor stronghold that was handed over to King Ferridge and Queen Isabella in the 88th century. Today you can tour the expansive grounds and walk through the Royal Palace. It is a real treat to see the unbelievable beauty of the craftsmanship. Every corner is decorated with mosaic tiles or carved plaster work. The details are amazing.

I took tons of photos. I have been attracted to architectural elements my entire trip, and the Alhambra gave me quite a bit of good material.

In addition to the palace grounds there were extensive gardens to see as well. We were very lucky that a lot of the flowers were still in bloom. The Moor´s certainly knew how to live! They had impressive cistern and water irrigation systems as well. Everywhere we turned there were fountains and pools. You could really feel effective of all that water keeping the surrounding area cool and fresh.

Granada also offered up a festival and musical interludes. We ended up in a plaza one night where a singer was belting out the tunes and a number of the locals were kicking up their heels and strutting their stuff. It was a really sweet community feel.

We also got literally caught up in the annual parade of the local patron saint. The Madonna of Angst (or something to that effect) is taken from its home chapel and paraded through the streets of Granada once a year so that the locals can see her and honour her presence. The honouring comes in the form of walking slowly in a procession (seemed to only be women dressed in all black or white) with candles. Everywhere we turned the Angst lead troops seemed to be bearing down on us. It was a unique slice of Granada life that I am glad to have seen, but won´t need to witness again. I have enough angst thank you.

We rented a car to tour the area and to get us to Sevilla. We took a great trip into the Sierra Nevada mountains and down to the Mediterranean. It was really nice to get out of the city, but more importantly I got to get back behind the wheel!

On our way to Sevilla we stopped into Cordoba to visit the famous Mezquita. This is a religious building that is an amazing blend of cathedral and mosque. It started as a small cathedral which was destroyed when the Moors invaded and took over. Over the foundation they built a modest mosque will fantastic internal pillars. Over the time of their reign in the region, the Moors expanded the mosque in impressive successions. There was definitely a lot of out doing predecessors in their approach. Then when the Spanish Christians took over the area again, they decided to convert the mosque back into a cathedral. In the centre of the large prayer floor now stands enormous alters and chorus areas. These areas are also overdone in their style as if to overshadow any remnants of the previous tenants. All around the outer walls are chapels dedicated to saints and biblical events. It is truly a spectacle to see.

Spain has a greatly diverse past and culture. The really impressive thing is how they embrace this history and blend the cultures into a wonderful and modern lifestyle. I am as taken with Spain as I was all those years ago when I first visited. I look forward to my time in Sevilla and Madrid next.

Spanish Reunion

Getting back to a European country was a bit of a relief. Morocco had been fantastic, but there is nothing like being able to drink the water from a tap to tell you that you have returned to a more comfortable level. I think that will be a benchmark for me moving forward. I can travel anywhere, but can only live in a country where you can drink tap water.

After a quick overnight trip in Girona, Celia and I made our way down to Sitges to meet up with the boys, Stuart and Manish. This was the first reunion of the 6th floor neighbours in over 8 months. We found them lazying on the beach enjoying the Meditarrean sunshine and surf. Stiges was exactly what we all needed. A place to recharge and transition into our Spanish tour.

We were treated to several good days of sun. There was also a wine festival on so Stuart was in heaven. Generally we chilled on the beach.

Moving up to Barcelona we got back into the touring mode. The good old Hop On / Hop Off bus took us to all the groovy Gaudi sites and gave us a good sense of the city. Got to love a good hop on / hop off.

I had been to Barcelona in 1994 and was eager to get back to it. I love the style of the city and am fascinated by Gaudi´s imagination. He was either on some crazy drugs or had a vision few people have the talent to harness. The scale of his work is also incredible. His Apartment project is probably my favourite piece. It is a great example of his fascination with organic shape and texture. But the really remarkable aspect is that he started with an existing building and simply clad it with his only ideas. I wish I had the vision to see creative solutions like that from basic building blocks. That is a skill I have also been envious of, and Gaudi is obviously a master.

During our time in Barcelona there was also a large music festival on. We were lucky enough to see a few free concerts all in outdoor venues. There was a great variety of options to appeal to every taste.

Spain is shaping up to be a great segment of this adventure. the pace of life is great, the food (and tap water) is wonderful, being in warm temperate climate is perfect; and I have my closest friends with me to enjoy it all.

Morocco´s dynamic duo

Our adventures in Morocco were made all the better by having a great tour guide, Rachid, and a fabulous driver, Ishmael. They were our dynamic duo. The Batman and Robin of Morocco. They were always smiling, laughing and keeping us all entertained and safe. This was especially impressive given that it was Ramadan so for most of the time they were starving and dying of thirst.

Rachid was particularly funny right after breaking his fast in the evening. You could definitely tell that his blood sugar levels were back up to normal (or beyond). He would get quite punchy and flip. Ishmael, on the other hand, was more subdued. He was the tall, dark and handsome one, whereas Rachid was the practical joker bouncy one. Both were excellent.

During our tour we came across a couple of interesting events. Things you wouldn´t find on the options list. On the day we left the Sahara for the High Atlas, we got delayed for two hours due to a flooded bridge. When we came into the area, it was immediately apparent that something wasn´t quite right. There were many many cars, trucks and buses pulled over to the side of the road, and all the people seemed to be milling about way up ahead. Ishmael pulled over and went to investigate. He was back soon enough and announced that the small bridge ahead was under about a foot of fast moving water. This was the effect of the little bit of rain we had had the night before. The river system in Morocco is well managed to get any water from the mountains down into the central part of the country very efficiently. In this case, too efficiently.

Our entire tour group got out of the bus to go and investigate further. Surely it couldn´t be that bad. And indeed, it didn´t look that bad. Our bus should be able to plow through without any issue. But Ishmael wasn´t having it. He had responsibilities. He wasn´t about to get his bus and 15 foreigners flushed down river. Besides, he had heard there was a tractor on the other side that was coming to pull people across. He would only wait for that.

We all tried to convince him it would work. Rachid tried to steal the keys. But in the end, we waited for the tractor. Once it arrived there was heavy negotiation needed to convince the tractor guys to take us across. They had been told by the police to stop all transport as it was too dangerous. Rachid jumped into action with his Berber skills and convinced the tractor guys that he´d take all responsibility for any police issues. We needed to get across. They finally agreed and we were ready to go; until we saw the method for attaching ourselves to this salvation - a coat hanger!

OK, so it wasn´t actually a coat hanger, but it was wire not much thicker than a coat hanger. This, this bit if flimsy wire was supposed to stop us from sliding off the bridge into the raging torrents. Ishmael, Rachid; this had better work!

We got our connection twisted up to the tractor and we set off in neutral. Ishmael didn´t want to run the engine so that it didn´t pick up any water damage. So, that meant we didn´t have any brakes - great. We inched across all expecting to be whisked over the edge at any second. At the very least, water would surely come flooding up into the bus and soak us from below. The tractor guys were giving all kinds of hand signals, nothing we immediately understood, but gave us confidence that there was a secret language between Ishmael and the tractor. Safety seemed so close, yet still so far. What would happen next?

Nothing! We made it through without incident. In fact it was a bit anti-climatic, not even our luggage area got wet. Nevertheless, as we hit dry land, the cheers and applause rose up from the bus. All the locals just shook theirs heads in disgust, ´crazy foreigners, we do this all the time;. Ishmael and Rachid were our heroes again! Getting us through the raging rivers of Morocco.

The following day provided another opportunity for the guys to show the chivalry skills. Again as we were starting out for the day, we came across roadway trauma. This time it was a car completely flipped over onto its roof. A single guy was wandering around the wreak. Ishmael immediately pulled over and our duo hopped out of the bus to see what assistance they could offer. One of our tour mates was a nurse, so she jumped out too to evaluate the driver for concussion. Again the bus emptied and we all evaluated the situation. The poor guy was not likely impressed that he was now the centre of so much attention.

Rachid spoke to the driver of the car while Ishmael laid out large rocks as pylons to keep passing cars away from the accident. Further Ishmael hopped back in the bus and took off in search of police. He return with them in tow. It was at this point the group started thinking we needed to fit this guys with capes and spandex tights!

Turned out that is driver got caught in a bad overtaking situation and was forced off the road. The good news was that he was not hurt, bad news was the other cars involved in the accident had taken off, so he was left to deal with the police by himself. Rachid did his best with translation.

Once the police had everything in hand, we were all ushered back into the bus. Back on the road - another round of applause for our tag team of good guys!

It is so important to have good people to travel with. Rachid and Ishmael went beyond the call of duty everyday. I have a feeling that most Moroccans would have done the same things. It is a very kind and gentle nation.

Shokran guys!!

Sahara Sand Dunes

I have had it with camels. I am so over any novelty or sense of adventure they may bring to a tour. Four hours over two days was it. I am done! However, the experience they brought me to was worth it in the end (just barely).

Our tour around Morocco took us to within 60 miles of the southern border with Algeria. We arrived to Merzouga, on the edge of the Sahara desert. It was massive sand dunes for as far as you could see. It was spectacular. Similar to my experience in Wadi Rum, Jordan with the Bedouin tribes, but a bit different. Same, same but different.

The local indigenous people are Berbers. They are relatively nomadic people moving with the water supplies they can find. Our hosts at the Auberg were lovely. At night we were treated to good food and even better musical treats. Several of the guys played drums, while one played a recorder and another kept time with an interesting set of cymbals.

The next morning we got up to see the sunrise. We hiked out into the dunes for about 20 mins and watch the sky light up. It was pretty overcast, so we missed out the typical fireball on the horizon.

After breakfast, we went into the local village to learn about the handicrafts industry of the local Berber tribes. Carpets and rugs were the big items on offer. All lovely pieces, but unfortunately, not very travel friendly for me.

Late in the afternoon we set out on the first camel ride (2 hours) to our desert tents. We were to spend the night under the stars in amongst some of the biggest dunes in Morocco. The ride out was not too bad, as far a camel riding goes. But let´s be honest, it ain´t no suspension gliding ride in a Mercedes or Benz!

That night we enjoyed a great meal and settled in for our night in the open air. Check that, our night in the blowing air. About two hours after lights out, the wind picked up and we were sand blasted. It began to settle down after about 45 mins, however what we were actually experiencing was the eye of the storm, because as the wind died down, the rain started. The group reacted in almost military precision. We were up, sleeping mats, sheets, and blankets rolled up. Sleeping rug pulled into a nearby tent, sleeping mats unrolled again, bags brought in and bodies back into beds within about 7 minutes. Very little talking, just action. The musty tent did keep us dry, but the smell kept many of us awake for most of the night.

The next morning at 5:30 we were scrambling up a 150 metre high dune to catch the sunrise again. This time a fire ball crested over the horizon. Ahhh! So beautiful.

Another 2 hours by camel back to the auberg were what really put me over the top. Despite having a pretty mild mannered camel, I have to say, I am done! So long sand dunes and farewell to the humped-back butt buster camels. Never more shall I ride your bumpy backs.

Magical Morocco

I arrived in the famed city of Casablanca on Saturday. I have never seen the movie all the way through, but I can say it was not what I was expecting. It was a hot, very developed but basically a nondescript place. Obviously our tour company didn't see much cultural value in the place as well. We spent the night there and hit the road early the next morning. We did make one stop on the way out of town at the largest mosque in the country, Hassen II. It was exquisite in its carvings and decorations. We are traveling during Ramadan, so the Muslim rituals and customs are very much in the forefront in our discussions and interests as a group.

Our first destination was the capital city of Rabat. We were taken on a guided tour of the exterior of the Royal Palace and the mausoleum of Mohamed V. Both again showed off an amazing level of detailed carvings and artwork. The blend of Arabic and Moorish qualities are beautiful. There are layers upon layers of marble and plaster carvings. Then it is interspersed with mosaic tile work that is all hand chiseled.

In many cases the building and craftsmanship was completed in astonishing time frames as the workers were on site 24 hours a day. The work is incredibly consistent as well. It would be amazing to see that quality of work put into buildings in North America today.

We were also taken to our first Kasbah. Which is apparently a city within a city. The one in Rabat had been a garrison, but now seemed to be more of a hippie community (if such a thing can exist in an Arab country). This one overlooked a beautiful beach on the Atlantic coast. The locals were having a great time in the surf. I can honestly say that I didn't expect to see surfers here - but why not. The surf looked great.

We stayed over in Meknes, an imperial city. The first of four we were going to see. In the morning we were on our way to Fez, with a stopover in Volubilis. Volubilis was an ancient Roman city. The number of intact mosaic artwork was impressive. Many of the houses still had enough definition to understand where the individual rooms had been. Again, I was taken aback by the openness of the ruins to the public and the elements. In North America I would expect to see something like that completely sealed up and visitors kept at a secure distance. Thankfully that is not the case here.

Fez has been a highlight so far. It has a medina (ancient walled city) that is a wonderful labyrinth of alleyways. It is a complete city unto itself with plenty of industry to keep a strong local community thriving. In fact, the population has boomed enormously in the last thirty years. We weaved through the Medina with a local guide who had grown up on its twisted streets. He kept up a feverish pace so by midway through the day most of us were pretty tuckered out. We had been taken to several Arab outlet shops. That is where the guide gets a bit of a kick back when his tour buys. Therefore the price is never quite as good as you could get on your own.

We had spent two night in Fez. Which allowed us to get a better vibe for the city. With Ramadan on the city comes alive when the sun sets. At seven o'clock the fast breaks with a quick drink and snack and then evening prayers takes place. Afterwards, everyone has their breakfast and comes back to life after their long day of no food or drink. There was a long boulevard near the hotel that seemed to be a meeting place for festivities. Many people strolled along the wide sidewalks, or sat at the tea houses catching up with friends and family. Even young children were up late playing in the fountains and taking in the action. Much of the activity went on well into the night as people stayed up to make the most of their time to eat and drink. Another long day of fasting awaiting them at the next sunrise.

Today we made our way south past the Middle and High Atlas. We are now settled into our Sahara section of our tour complete with local Berber accommodation, music and hospitality. This reminds me of my recent experience in the Bedouin camp in Wadi Rum, Jordan. Which was a significant highlight, so I am excited to see where this opportunity will lead. However there are two camel rides in my not too distant future, not my favourite thing to do by far. Fingers crossed I will survive the hard humps!

Note: Photos to follow. Morocco is not known for its Internet service so uploading is proving to be a real challenge.

Ireland once more

I had to return to Ireland for a couple of reasons; one, I had to renew my passport - I had run out of pages, and two, I still had a lot to see. For a small country it has a lot of sights.

After getting all my details sorted out at the Canadian Embassy in Dublin, I headed west to Galway. It had decided to travel via bus, thinking I would be able to take in a lot more of the countryside. Good idea if I had actually stayed awake for it all. Oops.

I was not so keen on seeing the city of Galway itself. Although it is a perfectly nice harbour town, it was the countryside to the north and south that interested me more. I spent a day each going up to Connemara and then down to the Cliffs of Moher. Both were well worth the visits. And in both cases I got relatively lucky with the weather - which makes a huge difference in the enjoyment factor. I knew Ireland was going to be cooler and wetter than just about all my other destinations this year, but this has been a tough month.

Connemara has soft undulating hills of green glens and purple heather. It is the classic Irish countryside that makes you yearn to go for a walk across. This is the stuff of Irish Springs commercials. In fact, our tour guide whistled just liked they did in the ads.

The Cliffs of Moher are not the tallest cliffs in Ireland, but they sure are impressive. The day before I went the tail end of hurricane Bill was passing by. I am glad I missed out on the rain and wind, but it would have been impressive to see the waves whipping themselves against these enormous cliffs. As it was, we had a great view of the Arran islands and plenty of patches of sunshine.

After the west coast, I made a run for the border. I took a eight hour bus ride from Galway to Belfast, crossing the border between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland. Thankfully there was no fanfare, as I didn't have my passport with me. I had to leave that in Dublin with the embassy. I had been told that I would likely be ok, but until you actually get there you never know. In fact, the only real distinction between the two countries is when you are reminded that traffic signs are now shown in miles per hour (Northern Ireland) vs kilometers per hour (Republic).

Arriving Belfast, I unfolded myself off the bus and found my way to my next hostel. My hostel experience in Galway had been great. The place was clean, fab location, friendly staff and easy roommates. I had opted for my own room in Belfast - thank goodness. The place was a dump so at least I didn't have to worry about freaks in the room too. I mentioned to the front desk staff that the toilet room near my bedroom had brown smears on the wall (ewww) , they were unimpressed and told me to use a different toilet. Yipee! The Northern experience had a harder edge than my time in the Republic.

I got out to see the city on my first full day. I was pouring rain for most of it, but that didn't dampen the spirit of the city. Most people I met had stories to tell of 'The Troubles', but were very quick to say how happy they were that those times seemed to be behind the city. However, there had been a series of killings last year so not everything is behind them. The city is still festooned with bunting of the Irish Nationalist or the Union Jack flags. You definitely know when you cross the divide between two districts. There are still many violent murals in the heart of each section. The city is grappling with the historical value of them. Many would like to see them removed or replaced with more neutral themes.

The city's other fascination is with Titanic. The ship was built in the famed Belfast shipyards of H&W. Locals are quick to point out that it was just fine when it left its shores. It was the English captain, Scottish designer and the Canadian iceberg that caused the problem!

On day two, I joined a tour to Giant's Causeway. It is an interesting rock formation created when lava from an erupting volcano hit the cold water. In true Irish style, there has been a tremendous tall tale create regarding the Irish giant, Finn MacCool to explain the formation. Apparently, the Irish giant was taunting a Scottish giant to a fight and built this causeway to allow the two to duke it out. Needless to say the irish giant picked a fight he couldn't win and had to hid out to avoid a thrashing. His wife was the cunning one who managed to save the day - figures!

I have to say I was a little underwhelmed by the causeway. But the stunning coastline and beautiful scenery we were treated to along the way were well worth the price of admission.

I made my way back to Dublin the following day. Still no border issues - phew.

In case you ever need to know, a temporary passport is white and only has two pages in it. So I was really no further ahead than when I started. Let's hope the new permanent one is waiting for me in Madrid later this month.

I am leaving for Spain tomorrow morning. Not before I have one last hearty lamb dinner and the pride of Ireland, a pint of Guinness. I will be heading for O'Neill's for my last Irish meal. It has been a good destination. One I would recommend to anyone. As long as they come prepared for wet weather and a Celtic pride that will make anyone wish they had a lick of the brogue in em.