Tasting sheep brains in the market was the last Moroccan straw for me and after a week long Muslim haul, I finally booked a night train to a city called Tangier in the north where I could catch the ferry to Tarifa, Spain.
I had overheard a guy saying he was going to catch the same night train as me so I asked if I could walk with him and split a cab. From what I understood I had booked a "couchette" which is a sleeping cubicle, however, upon arrival I learned that my first class ticket was in fact in a compartment with six other chairs that recline flat into one gigantic bed because sharing a big bed with Moroccan men is what I really actually wanted to be doing.
I thought I had gotten pretty friggin lucky when I walked in and learned I'd be sharing with a British family of four who had brought a few bottles of wine for the journey that they were keen on sharing. That thought died about 5 minutes after we cracked open the bottle and a Moroccan police man walked in with handcuffs and jangled them in our faces while threatening to arrest us all for public drinking on a Muslim train. We weighed our options and decided Moroccan jail was scarier than the wine was good so we put it away and went to sleep.
After sweating for 2 months straight, I was finally cold...really effing cold on this night train that was airconditioned so heavily that I was huddled with the British mother next to me named Tracie, attempting to stay warm. Finally, 10 hours later we arrived and just 35 minutes on a ferry north, the clocks rolled forward one hour, I bought a bottle of wine for 72 cents and drank it publically while sunbathing topless on the beaches...Hello Spain :)
Side note: I can't get the smell of Marrakesh out of my clothing and I'm now walking around smelling like a strange combination of cumin and spicy armpits.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Friday, July 23, 2010
Barrel O' Grease
So instead of heading to Greece like was planned, my oh so smart self decided to book a flight to Africa in the middle of the summer and see just how much more heat my body could endure before I died.
My flight through Rome connected in Casablanca and I was quite excited to be on my way until I learned that my second flight had been cancelled and I was to wait around in a Moroccan airport for the next 5 hours. Luckily the people I was with threw a fit until the airport personnel gave us all meal vouchers; Baloney is what we were given...literally baloney. Never in my life did I imagine I'd be sitting in an airport in Casablanca eating a processed meat sandwich. At some very early hour we made it to Marrakesh and found the hostel.
When I awoke the next day I sat down to breakfast with some girls discussing something called a Hamam that they described as a massage which sounded really good so I decided to give it a go because I was feeling refreshed and energized after my first legit shower in weeks.
Turns out, a Hamam is a bath house where an old woman in a thong with boobs hanging over her panty line literally ripped my clothing from my body and plopped me down on a rubber mat in a steam room with crumbling tile walls...surprise! Not sure if this endeavor was going to make me cleaner or dirtier I sat there and waited for her to return with a vat of black grease that I was promptly rubbed down with. Then she "exfoliated" my skin to the point of chaffing with what can only be described as steel wool all the while pointing out how dirty I was and how much crap she was scrubbing off of me. I tried to explain that I only wanted to be washed from the neck down and I thought she understood until she threw a bucket of water on my head that was poured from a rusty spigot on the wall.
After that I decided I had been through the most Moroccan of Moroccan things and it was now safe to eat street food, walk around without being covered from head to toe and drink the water...ok well not the water but everything else. So far its all been lovely minus the bug infested dates I bought from a man with a rickety cart covered in flies.
My flight through Rome connected in Casablanca and I was quite excited to be on my way until I learned that my second flight had been cancelled and I was to wait around in a Moroccan airport for the next 5 hours. Luckily the people I was with threw a fit until the airport personnel gave us all meal vouchers; Baloney is what we were given...literally baloney. Never in my life did I imagine I'd be sitting in an airport in Casablanca eating a processed meat sandwich. At some very early hour we made it to Marrakesh and found the hostel.
When I awoke the next day I sat down to breakfast with some girls discussing something called a Hamam that they described as a massage which sounded really good so I decided to give it a go because I was feeling refreshed and energized after my first legit shower in weeks.
Turns out, a Hamam is a bath house where an old woman in a thong with boobs hanging over her panty line literally ripped my clothing from my body and plopped me down on a rubber mat in a steam room with crumbling tile walls...surprise! Not sure if this endeavor was going to make me cleaner or dirtier I sat there and waited for her to return with a vat of black grease that I was promptly rubbed down with. Then she "exfoliated" my skin to the point of chaffing with what can only be described as steel wool all the while pointing out how dirty I was and how much crap she was scrubbing off of me. I tried to explain that I only wanted to be washed from the neck down and I thought she understood until she threw a bucket of water on my head that was poured from a rusty spigot on the wall.
After that I decided I had been through the most Moroccan of Moroccan things and it was now safe to eat street food, walk around without being covered from head to toe and drink the water...ok well not the water but everything else. So far its all been lovely minus the bug infested dates I bought from a man with a rickety cart covered in flies.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
That's why God Invented Salt
Today I woke up early and tooted on over to Naples for the day. When I got there I decided I might as well head to Pompei too so upon arrival I boared yet another train there. Lucky for me I picked the best train ever! I was sitting in an unairconditioned car across from a woman with so many bottom teeth I opted to put on my sunglasses so I could stare shamelessly. She had so much going on on the south side of her jaw that I decided she must have evolved from a rare species of shark because no one with that many incizers decended from an ape. When I got tired of that I looked at the bumper sticker plastered to the window that read "I heart bombing" and then we arrived!
For those of you who don't already know, Pompei was a city at the base of Mount Vesuvius that got preserved in time when the volcano blew up and surprised everyone with a blanket of volcanic ash that hardened and killed them all. Sounds nice eh? It was actually pretty cool minus the fact that its about 100 degrees every day and I literally drip sweat when I stand still in the shade. I learned today that this is the hottest summer ever on record for Italy and that the heat is killing people throughout Europe!
When I had finished mulling around the ghost town, I returned to Naples which I was pretty friggin excited about it because a little birdy told me that not only is Naples the birthplace of pizza, but the food gets better as you head south on account of the sun. Here in Rome all of the recipes seem to have been borrowed from the most famous chef I know...Boyardee. Everything tastes like goddamn spaghetti-o's so anything Naples had to offer was going to be an improvement. I arrived to what looked like a huge heap of garbage on a hill and set out looking for the first ever pizza place. On the way I stopped and got some lemon granita to cool me down which was deliciously amazing (a good start). Well I found my pizza place and that too was fantastic and dirt cheap. I made the executive decision to test out a brioche...best brioche of my life, then ricotta pear gelati...so delectable. At this point I tore myself away from the place before I turned into a meatball with legs but not before buying a small pizza to take back for dinner and thanking the people of Naples because unlike the Tuscan region, they use salt in their cuisine.
Side note: I just googled the weather in Marrakesh next week and its going to be 110 degrees...may your thoughts and prayers be with me.
For those of you who don't already know, Pompei was a city at the base of Mount Vesuvius that got preserved in time when the volcano blew up and surprised everyone with a blanket of volcanic ash that hardened and killed them all. Sounds nice eh? It was actually pretty cool minus the fact that its about 100 degrees every day and I literally drip sweat when I stand still in the shade. I learned today that this is the hottest summer ever on record for Italy and that the heat is killing people throughout Europe!
When I had finished mulling around the ghost town, I returned to Naples which I was pretty friggin excited about it because a little birdy told me that not only is Naples the birthplace of pizza, but the food gets better as you head south on account of the sun. Here in Rome all of the recipes seem to have been borrowed from the most famous chef I know...Boyardee. Everything tastes like goddamn spaghetti-o's so anything Naples had to offer was going to be an improvement. I arrived to what looked like a huge heap of garbage on a hill and set out looking for the first ever pizza place. On the way I stopped and got some lemon granita to cool me down which was deliciously amazing (a good start). Well I found my pizza place and that too was fantastic and dirt cheap. I made the executive decision to test out a brioche...best brioche of my life, then ricotta pear gelati...so delectable. At this point I tore myself away from the place before I turned into a meatball with legs but not before buying a small pizza to take back for dinner and thanking the people of Naples because unlike the Tuscan region, they use salt in their cuisine.
Side note: I just googled the weather in Marrakesh next week and its going to be 110 degrees...may your thoughts and prayers be with me.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Noodle Me
The travelling Gods must have felt bad that they treated me so badly because the hostel I'm staying at in Florence is pure heaven and when I arrived it was like a shining beacon of hope at the end of the bed bug road. I walked in and was handed clean sheets and towels, a map and brochures, as well as a little welcome pack that had mini toiletries in it. They also come fully equipped with a pool, sauna, restaurant, AC, and blowdryers in the girls rooms.
I found a cooking class that was offered in one of the brochures and went downstairs to book it immediately but couldn't get in until Wednesday (today) so I opted for a Tuscan wine tour in the Chianti region on monday and mulling around the city on Tuesday. The wine tour was excellent, I couldn't understand a word the tour guide was saying but she gave me free wine and I speak that language fluently. We went from place to place tasting and smelling until ending with a multi-course garden lunch at a lord's house up in the Italian countryside where we were given enough red wine to stain our teeth and then headed back to the bus where everyone fell asleep and snored...God bless the siesta.
Today I got up early to meet my cooking group in the heart of the city where we first toured the fresh market and purchased items for lunch, then headed back to the chef's apartment to make it. He gave us all little recipe books to write down what we were doing as we sat around a large marble island in the middle of his kitchen and prepared bruschetta (the true Italian way), homemade bolognese sauce, fresh pasta that we rolled by hand, and tiramisu all from things he had bought in the market. It was all fun and delicious games until the instructor decided to confess his affinity towards me and propose: a party, boat ride, dinner of chicken and risotto...etc. This was all done in an alarming public way and I chuckled a bit and sweated profusely while whispering to the girls next to me to make sure I didn't get left behind. At the end we all got certificates of completion and after I made sure I had made it out unfollowed by my new Italian lover, I promptly spilt hazelnut gelati on my diploma.
Side note: after ruminating on my plans to head to Greece, I decided it was too far out of the way and booked a ticket to Morocco instead, surprise! Africa, here I come.
I found a cooking class that was offered in one of the brochures and went downstairs to book it immediately but couldn't get in until Wednesday (today) so I opted for a Tuscan wine tour in the Chianti region on monday and mulling around the city on Tuesday. The wine tour was excellent, I couldn't understand a word the tour guide was saying but she gave me free wine and I speak that language fluently. We went from place to place tasting and smelling until ending with a multi-course garden lunch at a lord's house up in the Italian countryside where we were given enough red wine to stain our teeth and then headed back to the bus where everyone fell asleep and snored...God bless the siesta.
Today I got up early to meet my cooking group in the heart of the city where we first toured the fresh market and purchased items for lunch, then headed back to the chef's apartment to make it. He gave us all little recipe books to write down what we were doing as we sat around a large marble island in the middle of his kitchen and prepared bruschetta (the true Italian way), homemade bolognese sauce, fresh pasta that we rolled by hand, and tiramisu all from things he had bought in the market. It was all fun and delicious games until the instructor decided to confess his affinity towards me and propose: a party, boat ride, dinner of chicken and risotto...etc. This was all done in an alarming public way and I chuckled a bit and sweated profusely while whispering to the girls next to me to make sure I didn't get left behind. At the end we all got certificates of completion and after I made sure I had made it out unfollowed by my new Italian lover, I promptly spilt hazelnut gelati on my diploma.
Side note: after ruminating on my plans to head to Greece, I decided it was too far out of the way and booked a ticket to Morocco instead, surprise! Africa, here I come.
A Venetian Nightmare
I haven't blogged in forever and here is the reason why: Venice. I left Nice, FR July 7th with the hopes of making it all the way to Venice that day. I was then bombarded by a flurry of unairconditioned trains (4 in all) and as I sat there in a pool of my own sweat trying as hard as I could not move I made the executive decision to stay in Milan for the night seeing as how it was already 7pm and Venice was another 3 hours away. Not to mention the idea of showing up in the dark to a city where even the travel books say maps wont help was mildly terrifying.
The next morning I awoke and hopped on the first train to Venice, showered and ready. When I arrived at my hostel, it was less than desirable but some hostels are and that's all just part of the student travel experience I suppose. However, this place got worse and worse. There was a girl from Canada literally covered head to toe in bed bug bites and no one considered the fact that she might still be carrying them so we were all just going along our merry way in this godforsaken hostel until another guy showed up who was literally crawling with bugs head to toe. They took him outside and hosed him down with alcohol...then let him stay there but only after spraying all the rooms and everyone's belongings in them with something that had a smell resembling sour toe jam and fermenting fruit. The fact that there were only two showers for about 50 people ended up working to my advantage because I ended up skulking around so filthily the bed bugs didn't want anything to do with my stank ass and I woke up each morning surrounded but untouched by them.
The hostel's one claim to fame was the free dinner that they boasted about. Well, the very first night the "free dinner" if you can even call it that was overcooked pasta mixed with tuna and tomato sauce. I assumed it was just a newby in the kitchen until I was informed that they serve the same thing EVERY night and that would be my free slop for the next 4 nights. At that point I tried to get out of my reservation and they wouldn't let me so I sweated out the next 4 days (literally because Italians don't believe in AC) and then crossed over a million little bridges back to the train station and headed to Florence.
The next morning I awoke and hopped on the first train to Venice, showered and ready. When I arrived at my hostel, it was less than desirable but some hostels are and that's all just part of the student travel experience I suppose. However, this place got worse and worse. There was a girl from Canada literally covered head to toe in bed bug bites and no one considered the fact that she might still be carrying them so we were all just going along our merry way in this godforsaken hostel until another guy showed up who was literally crawling with bugs head to toe. They took him outside and hosed him down with alcohol...then let him stay there but only after spraying all the rooms and everyone's belongings in them with something that had a smell resembling sour toe jam and fermenting fruit. The fact that there were only two showers for about 50 people ended up working to my advantage because I ended up skulking around so filthily the bed bugs didn't want anything to do with my stank ass and I woke up each morning surrounded but untouched by them.
The hostel's one claim to fame was the free dinner that they boasted about. Well, the very first night the "free dinner" if you can even call it that was overcooked pasta mixed with tuna and tomato sauce. I assumed it was just a newby in the kitchen until I was informed that they serve the same thing EVERY night and that would be my free slop for the next 4 nights. At that point I tried to get out of my reservation and they wouldn't let me so I sweated out the next 4 days (literally because Italians don't believe in AC) and then crossed over a million little bridges back to the train station and headed to Florence.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Nice Nice
I escaped the cold grip of Paris finally after a month long stay and have moved on to Nice. Its pretty legit here, looks just like all the pictures of the French Riviera that they put on the post cards...go figure. When I arrived I took it upon myself to first find the hostel, then get drunk at it which is easy to do when the common room is an old chapel with stained glass windows and a bar that comes fully equipped with cheap drinks and cute Aussies. Perhaps it was the amount of sun that I got but the next day I was borderline incoherent and my plans to travel to the market in Ventimiglia were hindered by the overwhelming urge to vomit and I opted for a smaller market here instead.
The next night I learned my lesson and sipped on chocolate milk instead which allowed me to make it to Monaco the following morning. I went with two guys I met here. One was a really nice Aussie and the other was a fucktard from Canada who first told me he thought I was going to be socially awkward when he first met me and then asked me if I rowed because I had a big back. I'm pretty sure the poor bastard has Asperger's because he later informed me that it takes him two hours to get ready to go out at night because he has to blow dry/flat iron his 1/2 inch of hair and sometimes, on really special occasions, he wears makeup. He's aspiring to be a model and I didn't have the heart to tell him that agencies usually don't seek out assholes that look like Kermit the frog with dinosaur teeth. It was legitimately sad to be in the presence of such a loser.
I recovered from that day by heading to San Remo today which is just across the border into Italy and went to a big market there that had so many different shapes of pasta I got overwhelmed and went home. All in all its been great here but I leave Tuesday for Venice or Milan...haven't decided yet.
The next night I learned my lesson and sipped on chocolate milk instead which allowed me to make it to Monaco the following morning. I went with two guys I met here. One was a really nice Aussie and the other was a fucktard from Canada who first told me he thought I was going to be socially awkward when he first met me and then asked me if I rowed because I had a big back. I'm pretty sure the poor bastard has Asperger's because he later informed me that it takes him two hours to get ready to go out at night because he has to blow dry/flat iron his 1/2 inch of hair and sometimes, on really special occasions, he wears makeup. He's aspiring to be a model and I didn't have the heart to tell him that agencies usually don't seek out assholes that look like Kermit the frog with dinosaur teeth. It was legitimately sad to be in the presence of such a loser.
I recovered from that day by heading to San Remo today which is just across the border into Italy and went to a big market there that had so many different shapes of pasta I got overwhelmed and went home. All in all its been great here but I leave Tuesday for Venice or Milan...haven't decided yet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
