Camels Make Me Laugh
The complete photos are now available in the photo archive, but, of course, they also deserve their own introduction and minor explanations here.
Moroccan Journey 1: Milan to the High Atlas Mtns.: The trip was off to an auspicious start, arriving at the Milan airport at 11 with small snacks (pretzels and apples) purchased at Pam, alongside the obligatory bottle of Sangiovese Rosso. We had about seven hours to kill before the flight, so after finding places to sleep, we tried our best to do so without having it punctuated by periods of sharp discomfort. The flight was much more tranquil than the one to Sicily and we arrived in Morocco just fine. Customs took about 50 hours, but we eventually made it through and all pulled some sweet, crisp Dirhams out of the ATM to meet our driver who was to take us to the hostel—or Riad, as they are called. Arrival was a pleasant surprise and the owners were more than hospitable. The first day in Marrakech showed that the entire city was just completely chaotic and the first little images were telling: the unusually complex design lining the sidewalks, the tower of the Kutubiya mosque, and the photo of King Mohammed VI hung above the counter of the first shop that we went into. Buying a water at a small shop for the first time was strange and made me realize how nice it is to be able to express, at the very least, simple requests. It grew into missing Italy pretty quickly. We had a large debate about whether to go on the Sahara Expeditions tour, since our hotel owner ran another tour, but we eventually came back to our original decision because the new option wasn’t intense enough for us. Really. We had to get to bed early for the journey the next morning into the High Atlas Mtns., which were extraordinary and large. It should be noted that halfway through the Atlas Mtns. voyage that I decided to pass out in the back of the van because I was exhausted/ready to vomit.
MJ 2: Casbah to Berber Jam Session: The Casbah was full of strange things of which to shoot photos, like a woman carrying a large bundle of chutes and twigs on her back. Oh, and the tiny mountainside house that had a donkey hanging out in a small alcove, enjoying some of those very chutes and twigs that were being carried up the hill. It was a bizzare, upside-down world where humans seemed to serve donkeys. I also, apparently, picked up a pair of sunglasses somewhere during the previous night—before dinner. They’re some pretty stylish Ray-Bans that I got for about 8 dollars—pretty worthwhile if you really think about it. The scenery along the drive was absolutely breathtaking until we got out into the desert, which was flat and somewhat boring. It was, however, punctuated by various oases and small villages where people seemed to have a little regard for the passage of motor vehicles—motor vehicles other than those amazing motorino/bicycle things that everyone from age 8-95 has. It should also be noted that this portion of the trip brought me my favorite picture of camels to date. They are officially my favorite creature. The lunches were pretty standard Moroccan fare: Harira soup, Tagines with chicken, lamb, and vegetables, and pastilles or fresh fruit. All delicious and marvelously cheap. We finally arrived, after much travel, at Zagoura (I believe) where we departed on camel back for the Berber camp. Camels are not a great deal of fun to ride, let me say, but my camel Curtis was a great sport—even though he groaned multiple times and was clearly the surly runt of the group. Still, a soft-spot for him. And then we were seduced into going to listen to Berber music, with little knowledge of what awaited us….
MJ 3: Sunrise to Palais: Sunrise over the Sahara was unreal. Arriving the previous night was bizarre enough, seeing absolutely nothing around but a few lights in the distance and tents speckled around our immediate area. We woke early to head back on camels, which was uneventful, and made it back to the van to realize that four of the people in our group had all of their money stolen during the night. Many thanks to Becky Lebowitz for making the discovery. We explained the situation to our driver and he stopped one of the Berber guides to see what could be done. He joined us in the car and Samantha Jessup was able to speak to him in French. Many thanks to her as well. To make a long story short, after about five hours of dealing with different people, the victims of this crime received restitution from Sahara Expeditions and we were back on our way to Marrakech. Everyone was more than pleasantly surprised that the money was returned. When we returned, the rest of the group (the six girls) went to a Hammam with our hostel owner, where they stripped down and were individually scrubbed along with other women of various age, body-type, and creed. I passed out in my clothes on a bed on the first floor. That night involved more chaos at the Souk, where many small food vendors hassled us endlessly and urged us to eat at their stands. They were quite disrespectful and each one that did not receive our business proceeded to yell “Fuck you” and flip us off during the rest of our meal, which was moderately to hardly edible. Kabob would have been the right choice, had we known. The next morning, we saw the sights of Morocco, which are better explained in photos.
MJ 4: Palais to Lodi, Italy: The last portion of the trip was directed mostly towards relaxation after the crazy time in the desert. After seeing the sights, we made a return trip to the Souk to haggle some more sweet deals and then headed back to our hostel to take part in the free hookah and free henna (or however you spell that). The hookah was great and relaxing and the henna was absolutely ridiculous, but I did receive a really feeble-looking line around my wrist that, apparently, is okay for men to do. I’m still really not convinced. Overall, I managed to pick up some sweet deals at the Souk on two calcio jerseys, a pair of shoes, a mystery box, and two gifts of a nature which shall remain undisclosed. Then, I saw the ugliest person in the world at the Marrakech airport and we headed back to Milan. All I can say is that it’s great to be back in Bologna. Class tomorrow, however, will stink.
|
