Friday, December 31, 2010

Wild Travel Encounters, Part Three: Going Solo




Leaving Emma to go and chase snowballs in Vancouver, I struck out alone...

Morocco:
The hostile hustle of Marrakesh, solitude in the vastness of the Sahara, chilling in the fishing port of Essouira, and wandering the ancient medina of Fez all helped to paint the picture of an incredibly diverse country.

Travel Icon: 4/5. Sleeping under the stars in the complete silence of the Sahara, walking into the desert past the sign, “52 days to Timbuktou”, listening to the prayer calls reach out over the medina in Fez, or just buying a train ticket to Casablanca -it all sounds pretty cool on paper.

Fun Factor: 3/5. After a horrible start in Marrakesh, Morocco realised it‘s mistake and turned on the charm. Couchsurfing in the desert city of Zagora with Mohamed and Safouane was some excellent chill out time, and an insight as to how little opportunity people have there(and how they deal with this). 3 days in the Sahara with just the company of a non-English speaking Bedouin guide and a camel makes you appreciate the beauty of emptiness, while also becoming an expert at communicating via sand drawings. Finding like-minded travellers in the port-town of Essouira and enjoying each others company so much that a 2 day stopover becomes a 10 day epic memory. Discovering that one of these travellers is a 31 year old guitarist from Portland, Oregon, who went out with a girl that you dated when you were 16 reinforces just how like minded you all are, no matter your background! Having fun wandering around the ancient city of Fez with Pippa O and her Mum and cousin from NZ brings it all home and makes you appreciate your own background and culture in contrast to the one in which you‘re immersed.

Grit Factor: 4/5.My first week in Morocco was thoroughly unenjoyable. It was the first time in 6 months that I had been completely alone with no hope of seeing a familiar face in the near future. This can be a good thing, and puts you out of your comfort zone a bit, but when tired and hungry, the loneliness can become a feeling of isolation, which is when you become vulnerable. And then Marrakesh got nasty. Wandering the streets on my own, I couldn’t go into shops because if I left without buying something the shopkeeper would often get angry and shout. I couldn’t stand in the streets or wander slowly, because it would give beggars and touts a chance to ask me for money, and the last time I had said “no”, I was spat at and told to “F*** off”. Usually this would be water off a duck’s back, but not in my state at the time. So I would sit in the hostel, plan my walk and destination, identify safe places such as banks and reputable retail shops along the way that I could stop if I wanted to, step outside, put my head down and one foot in front of the other. I would have regretted not going at all, but I also had no regrets leaving the place.


Photos: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=558562&id=808690304&l=378c54c6b3

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