Lots of food

Last night Marianne (the Croissant as I like to call her but with all affection) invited us to her new flat for cava and snacks. We were going to come back to our flat afterwards so Gian could cook stroganoff for dinner but he ended up bringing all the ingredients over and we had it at her place. It's a very nice flat with better heating than ours and very cosy looking, but smaller. (Photo: Alexis and Mel, the posers)

The Croissant also opened a bottle of wine her family made, which had Christmas spices in it, like cinnamon and cloves. It tasted like a Christmas pudding- very delectable. Gian also made caipirinha and we were all made to drink too much. Poor Mel felt so seedy today. But we had a great time. The stroganoff was great. I somehow managed to eat two plates of it and was so full Mel had to roll me home. (Photo: Mel, me, Marianne and Gian on couch)

Today Javi's mum invited us over for lunch and she cooked absolutely delicious dishes- one of them, her own invention, was chicken, ham, cheese and something else sauteed on a toothpick. She's the loveliest woman imaginable, so adorable and friendly and cheery. After lunch (I probably look glazed in the photos because I ate so much I could barely move) we all sat around the fire and played a spanish board game called Parchi and I won, ha ha. Javi's mum played with us as well. She's so cool. She teaches little kids in a church nearby, for communion or something and gave us a tour of the church. It's very small and ancient, from 1521 but in good condition and neat and lovely. (Photo: lunch- Em, Mel, Javier's mum and me)

Before lunch, she suggested that since it was so cold in the room, we should go upstairs and put on dressing gowns to keep warm. It was a bit incongruous because we had such great food, and elegant table settings and we looked like geriatrics, shuffling around in our bathrobes. Javi especially looked like Hugh Hefner, with a quilted dressing gown and a sleazy look in his eye. (Photos: me and Mel; Em and Javi)

Back in Spain

On the ferry to Tarifa, it was a bit choppy so a few people were feeling seasick and they put on music like 'We All Live in a Yellow Submarine' and other sea ditties over the sound system to make them feel worse. How appropriate. When we returned to Spain from Morocco, we had a day to spare so we decided to head over to the Rock and see what it was like. It was SOOOOO incredibly, unbelievably comforting to be in a country where the official language is English and no one says 'Ni hau' or 'Konichiwa' to you. Actually, the people have a bit of a bizarre accent. They sound british but a bit europeanised. I think most of them speak Spanish as well and their Spanish had a foreign accent to it. (Photo: me on ferry back to Spain. I look incredibly classy. Because all my clothes got wet from the bus to Rissani, I had to wear Lisa's stuff but the pants were too big so I put a belt on to hold them up and her pyjama bottoms on underneath to keep me warm. But then they were too long so I tucked them into my orange socks to stop them from trailing on the ground.)

Gibraltar has so much history and intrigue for a piece of limestone that doesn't produce anything and has a population of 300 000. We did the official 'Rock Tour' which was fascinating. Mario, our guide, took us up to the national park, we saw the caves, the tunnels, the monkeys, the views... slightly disconcerting to be standing on british territory and be able to see a part of Spain in one direction and across the water, the continent of Africa. (Photo: gibraltan rock ape looking at gibraltan rock ape stuffed toys)

We headed to Cordoba that night, but didn't get there till 2:15 am. Absolutely exhausted, especially after our 14 hour bus ride from Rissani. There were two babies on the bus from Rissani who wouldn't stop bawling. Lisa was ready to murder them but I thought they sounded hilarious. Sort of like they were being tortured and branded with firey pokers. There was absolute silence on the bus, except for the crying, and then I started giggling and couldn't stop and ended up nearly crying myself, with glee. The sound of their anguish sustains me. (Photo: Lisa with ape on her shoulder)

Our hotel was right opposite the mezquita and in the old town- perfectly situated. The mezquita is utterly indescribable so I won't even try. It's a mosque from the moorish times of Spain but when the catholics took over, they sort of built a cathedral in it, so you go in and see the muslim design, and when you enter further into the bowels of the mosque, you see a cathedral with christian motifs. (Photo: mezquita from the inside)

Morocco: Part II

The Sahara is a completely alien, otherworldy place at night. Our guide Hassan was amazing. He led us to the camp practically in complete darkness and to me it felt like we were just going around in circles but we made it to the camp eventually. You can see the stars so well when there are no lights around and the only sound is the wind whistling over the dunes. It' such a bizarre feeling to know that you're alone for miles around except for two camels and your companions. (Photo: my camel Herbush)

After a dinner of tajin, which took almost 2 hours to cook (we'd eaten a banana for breakfast and nothing else that day- I was so hungry I was considering cannibalism) Hassan took us for a walk up the dunes. In the darkness they just look like tiny hills but they're seriously impossible to climb up. It's not so bad at first but towards the top, when the sand is softer, you keep sinking and you have to practically run to stop from sliding back down. And they're unbelievably steep. Lisa gave up after half an hour, but I kept going and when we reached the top, we could see the border between Morocco and Algeria. The moon was rising behind a dune and that was the only light we had. (Photo: Lisa struggling up the dunes hee hee hahahahahaha)

The next morning, we watched the sunrise, then trekked back to the hotel in Merzouga where we'd started from. Abdellah, the guy who picked us up from Rissani drove us back, gave us a tour of the town and made us Moroccan pizza for lunch. He was the coolest guy imaginable. He wore this brown cloak with a pointed hood (a bit like the KKK) and looked like Chewbacca from Star Wars. Well, until you saw his face because he's human, obviously. But that was mostly hidden by the hood. We caught a 6 pm bus from Rissani to Tangier that took 14 hours to arrive. But this time the bus was normal, with heating, unlike the other one that was so old and rickety it was held together with string in some parts and had a guy to wipe the windows down every now and then because the windscreen wipers were broken and the windscreen kept getting covered in snow and dust. Also, on that bus the windows didn't shut properly, so when we drove through the mountains, I'd fall asleep and wake up with a coating of snow on me. (Photo: Lisa with her camel. She was scared of it so wouldn't stand next to it when I took the photo. She sort of edged towards it, then leant in a little. Hassan said he was an agressive camel)

Morocco

Morocco was amazing. Amazingly cold too. I was unprepared for how cold it was and spent the majority of the time huddling into my thin jacket with the broken zip. We ferried across to Tangier and caught a train the next morning to Fes. No one told us there was a one hour time difference between Spain and Morocco, so we got to the train station for the 10 am train and realised it was only 9 am and we'd just missed the 9 am train by 5 minutes. In Fes, we stayed in the youth hostel with the best staff imaginable. There were mandarin trees in the courtyard and every day Abdullah, the guy who worked there, would pick us a bag of mandarins. (Photo: plaza in Granada)

We went to the medina and saw the tanneries, the spice shops, mosques, donkeys, food, carpet factories, textile factories, real estate agent (a stall with a grey wall and a faded photo of some Moroccan person)... it was fantastic and unlike anything I've ever seen. My favourite was the spice shop. My mum would have bought the whole shop if she were there. (Photo: sunset in Fes)

We also went to some towns near Fes- Ifrane, known as the Moroccan Switzerland because it's near the ski slopes and only the rich people and foreigners live there, Sefrou, with a pleasant medina, a berber village with cave houses and we drove through a national park and visited a waterfall and a lake. The general idea of Morocco is that it's busy, filled with stalls and camels and spices but there's another side of it too that's completely different. It has beautiful landscapes and it snows in the mountains; there aren't too many problems with two girls travelling solo; there's so much more to it than travel agents sell. (Photos: tanneries, a street in the medina)

After Fes we travelled down to Rissani by bus. We were supposed to catch an overnight bus but the bus couldn't get through the mountains because the roads were flooded so we had to catch the 6:30 bus the next morning. About 20 km away from Rissani, the road was still flooded but the bus drove through the slush anyway. Our bags were in the hold and got completely soaked. You'd think they'd be kind enough to remove them before driving through. Apparently not unless they get paid to do it. When we got to Rissani, we went straight to Merzouga and did a camel trek to a berber camp and stayed overnight in the dunes. (Photo: sheeps' heads)

The lesson of appreciation

Lisa and I got back to Logrono last night at midnight. The first thing we did was raid the pantry for food. Mel had cooked a green chicken curry (green curry chicken? Green thai chicken curry? It wasn't the chicken that was green) so I devoured the leftovers, then I fossicked through the fridge and considered going through the rubbish for some scraps of food. I felt like a half-starved Ethiopian refugee. During our time in Morocco, Lisa was so paranoid about the food being unclean that she made me paranoid as well and as a consequence, I didn't eat as much as I normally do. I was deprived of food for a week. When I got home, I realised how good it is to live in a country where you don't have to worry about food poisoning (well, except for the five times I got it this year). (Photo: Gian, Mel and me doing Keira Knightley impersonations)

Before we left for Morocco, everything was completely crazy and hectic. On Friday night we cooked a farewell dinner for the Croissant because she was moving out of the piso on Saturday, then on Saturday we went horse riding and in the afternoon had people over for dinner and videos. We ordered Chinese takeaway and Javier thought it would be hilarious to make me call up since I'm the token Chinese/Japanese/Korean/Asian. Afterwards we went to Concept, the only nightclub in Logrono that you have to pay to enter. Luisfran nearly burst a blood vessel because he paid 4 euros for a 330 ml bottle of water. (Photo: farewell dinner with our flat and Em)

On Sunday I cleaned the flat and at 2 am Monday morning, had to go pick Lisa up from the train station. She was instantly recognisable because she was so wrapped up in a boufy red Arctic weather-proof jacket she looked twice the width of a normal person. (Photos: Luisfran with a heart attack, group photo with some random guy in a red shirt who decided to jump in)

I thought it would be an excellent idea to invite Em and her flatmates, the Croissant and Javier over for dinner on Monday to meet my sister, but by 7 pm we hadn't even started cooking, the landlady was over to collect the rent and I was cursing my stupidity. It turned out well though. No one got food poisoning and Lisa managed to stay awake for twenty minutes of it. (Photo: Gian- popular with the girls)

We left for Granada early Wednesday morning and by this stage I was so exhausted I slept all the way to Madrid. Lisa nearly got left behind in Soria. Soria is a town whose only distinction is being the midway point between Logrono and Madrid. Anyway, so Lisa woke me up to tell me she was going to the bathroom during the 15 minute rest break at Soria and I was so tired I nodded and fell back asleep. Five minutes later she wasn't back yet. Ten minutes later she still wasn't back yet and everyone else had returned. Fifteen minutes later the bus started leaving and I stumbled down the aisle shrieking 'Wait! Wait! My sister isn't on!' The bus driver had to drive back in, open the door and let me out to look for her. Lisa came running up to me, looking a bit stunned. Apparently she'd got on two wrong buses and couldn't get out of the second one because everyone was entering and shoving her back. She thought she was stuck in Soria with no money, no phone, no knowledge of Spanish and with me asleep on the bus. It would have been quite funny actually, in a horrible sort of way.