Sippin' Coffee in Fes

i got into Fes at 5am it was dark cold and raining, it was absolutely miserable out and i had no clue where i was in relation to the city. I pulled my bag out from under the bus and scurried under an over hang where i noticed the rest of the disembarking passengers were. i took a deep breath and sighed, i looked at the rain and thought, what to do? i watched the rain fall for a few minutes took notice to how wet my jacket was for only being out side for such a short moment, i looked at my pack and that was wet too, i continued to think, what to do as now i began to shiver.
i noticed across the way there was a large building with a light on. the name was in french and i hand no idea of what it meant. i soon I noticed people with bags running towards another far away building in the rain, others were being dropped off near by in taxis. was it the bus station, i wasn't sure but i picked up my bag and made a run for it. upon entering i noticed all the seats to wait were full and it was not a bus station but a train station. i saw a few people sitting on the floor and i took my spot, now even more wet, and still cold, i sat on the tile floor. Although i knew it would not be approved of, i took out my sleeping bag anyway, unzipped it and covered my self, my camera bag and my pack and drifted off to a much needed 2 hour sleep.

I was woken by a guard who was peaking french, i replayed "no pali vu france" and in English he quickly told me "you can't sleep here, where are you going" he asked. i knew there was a 6:50am train to Marrakesh and glancing at the clock i saw it was 7am, "marrakesh" i said, "you just missed it" the guard replied "but there is 1 in a hour" he told me, as i pretended to look confused, "well i guess i'll head back to my hotel," i said as i packed up my sleeping bag and slowly made my way out the door. I was intending to stay in Fes the whole time but was happy to dodge the unpleasant conversation with a disgruntled guard for sleeping on the floor.

I hopped a cab to Ba bou Jaulad, it was my first meter taxi i have had on this whole trip and god i was it bliss to not have to bargain for a ride. i arrived around 730am and it was still dark and cold but the rain has reduced to a drizzle and i was thankful for that. I wondered down the narrow streets of Fes which very much reminded me of the ones of varranasi, minus the cows, shit, and poverty of course. There were new smells, dark allies, wet cobbled roads, not wide enough for a car, but big enough for a donkey to push through with a small cart. My old worn out shoes were soaked and i slowly wondered through the semi empty streets.

Where sight of narrow streets and covered pathways reminders me of india, the chill, the smell of wood fires burning, those brought me staring back to New Zealand, being blessed with many cold autum/winter days in NZ my mind began to wonder as i started to think of the snowy peaks and warm fires. I snapped back into reality and continued on squishing through the old city of Fes in my soggy shoes. Nearly an hour later i could feel the weight of my pack on my shoulders and hips, slightly frustrated that i speak neither french nor arabic i realised i was helplessly lost and no set of directions in a foreign language was going to help me. i made my way to an exit of the old city and payed yet another meter taxi to drop me back off at where i had started.

The rain began to pick up slowly as i reentered at Ba Bau Jelad for a second time. it's time likes these that you miss the people and places you love and are familiar with. stores and hotel doors are now beginning to open and i dropped my bag in one of the first that i looked at, being cheaper than Marrakesh, i was happy to settle and attempt to dry out for a bit.

i was still cold but at this point i was hungry as well and had to find some food. i began to wonder down the same narrow street i was on an hour ago and sat down at cafe which caught my nose, dark roasted coffee drew me in, and the struggles of the early morning began to fade. After a 12hr bus ride that chilled me to the bone and my morning hotel hunt that coffee was a perfect way to start. Now smiling again, I followed the coffee with a lamb and egg tajine, dripping with fat i soaked it all up with a loaf of fresh bread, feeling overly guilty about the year i just took off my life (due to the saturated fat i just drank) my eyes began to wander and watch the cafes across the way as they were absolutely filled. not offering food, many customers were purchasing bread, friend dough rings, and a roti-like snack from other vendors and just sitting down for a single glass of mint tea or a cup of coffee. they sat for hours just watching people pass by, some in groups occasionally talking and some alone just content to be there.

i ate my breakfast and went for a walk, an hour later returning to the same street wondering past the same cafe patrons, as they may have watched me eat breakfast across the way, they may also have watched me wonder past, just watching life drift past, i thought how odd.

Fes really didn't take to me, and maybe it was because i arrived 2 days after the largest Holiday of the year, a holiday which actually lasts a week, where every family slaughters a sheep or a goat, in memory of Abraham who set to the mountain top to kill his son (a sheep was slaughtered instead) so once a year this biblical tale is reenacted. When i think about it my most interesting time in Fes was wondering down the empty streets alone at 730am the morning i arrived. wondering through shoulder width streets, walking past stacks and stacks of folded sheep skins left on the side of the road from the day before, i walked past a Fes city garbage truck which was a donkey with an enormous basket tied to it's back. simply walking the empty streets. i was helplessly lost, slightly bothered but couldn't help but be fascinated with this new city i was forced to explore so early in the morning.

As the city began to wake and the shops open up i struggled to find the charm, the narrow streets became cluttered with people, the old wooden doors decorated in brass studs were covered in cheap clothing, and touristy nick knacks, the serenity was lost. i found my self intentionally getting lost in hopes to find a more unique Fes and never did. of course more streets than not are only traveled by locals, tourists stick to the main paths, but for some reason i was just not into it.
Two full days of Fes and i was done, if i had a guide, a mentor, a local to show me the ins and outs maybe i would have stayed longer but as for this trip i felt like it was time to move on. the next morning, 2 hours before i had to leave i strolled down that same narrow street one more time to grab a bite to eat. i observed the locals the past 2 days and was interested in what they have been snacking on, looking to save a buck or two i followed suit and lined up at a popular morning food stand. i ordered some porous bread backed in a large cast iron skillet almost like a pancake along with a flaky roti style bread, all drizzled with honey.
my breakfast was wrapped in deli paper and i carried it to the closest coffee shop. sipping a black coffee followed by a big glass of hot mint tea, morning traffic passed me by, the milk man delivering 5 gallon seal drums wheeled by me on a bicycle as a donkey loaded with 10+ propane tanks all strapped to it's back trotted past as well. it was cool morning and before the sun came up i could see my breath. i gripped my coffee tight in my bare hand to warm it up as i nestled my back against my seat and rested my head on the wall. more people began to pass and an hour later with an empty glass i realised why people come to these cafes for a simple morning coffee and stay for an afternoon tea. It is simply joying a timeless day, with nothing better to do, why not enjoy it in the sun. as many people back home camp out on the couch and watch the "tube," i realized is much the same. the morning passed quickly as i realised i had 20min. to catch my bus to Chefcheaoun, i better get going.

Morocco update

photo link: http://picasaweb.google.com/vaccaro.marc2424/MarcvaccaroMorocco#

Morocco:
My flight from Cairo was direct into Casablanca, I had heard from other travelers that Casablanca was not all that interesting, the industrial and financial capital of Morocco and was easily forgettable. I took their advice and when arriving at 1am i took a seat in the lobby and waiting out the night until the 6am train would take me away to Marrakesh. A bit tired from the flight, definitely feeling the affects of sleeping on a metal airport/train station chair, i boarded my 5hr train with hopes a comfortable soft seat, a bit of solitude, and a window to look out. I got the soft seat, although it was in a cabin with two others and the window to look out was blazing hot as the sun was baking my side of the train car. I regret not taking out my camera as I cruised ancient homes placed which seemed to me in the middle of know where, the soil was red and full of rocks but it was being farmed none the less. The paddocks for grazing animals were formed not by fences or rock walls but by rows of dense green cactus all linked together. the hills and land rolled on, the sky was blue, and the sun was hot. I dosed off to sleep and woke hungry, i was in Marrakesh.

Marrakesh: The large square located in the old city is no doubt the main attraction of the city. As all major Moroccan cities, there is a modern section filled with your fast food, banks, gas stations, modern hotels, and shopping malls, but the Cities that draw the tourist crowds also have a touch of the past still living in them. For Marrakesh it's the old Souk and the Giant Square which comes to life every day around 10am and goes to sleep around midnight. Snake charmers, fortune tellers, story tellers, gypsies, beggars, scatter them selves across this large public space, but people don't come for that, although it does add ambiance and excitement. they come come for the shopping and the food. With small narrow passage ways branching off from the square i got lost here for hours wandering in and out, looking at spices, fabrics, weird looking shoes, amongs tons of other touristy items. No matter how far i strayed from the center, i was always pulled back because around 5pm the Assembly of an enormous out side restaurant was the high light for me.

Teradaount: a small town located about 4 hours south west of Marrakesh was a interesting stop, I had an inflated bus ticket price due to the national holiday, the bus i was on stopped in another city 1 hour from the my location and i was forced to get a shared taxi from there for the remainder of my trip, amazingly confusing but full of culture and surprises, one surprise being a sheep jumping out of the trunk of the shared taxi when the door was opened to put bags in... didn´t expect that. The city was small but i stayed with a family in their home and it was very peaceful and a wonderful way to experience real culture and see the city through a locals eyes.

Marrakesh to Merzouga: I was forced to pay for a tour to get to Merzouga due to the inflated bus prices and the lack of buses to the area i wanted to go. instead i purchased an over priced tour but got the reap the benefits of spending a bit more money and traveled in comfort in a van with other travelers, got my own bedroom in a nice hotel with a fantastic shower and big bed. We stopped a couple of sights that i would have never seen on a bus, overall i was happy i took the tour. On the day of the big slaughter where all Moroccans (Muslims) kill a sheep my bus passed by home after home where you could see this happening in plain view of the public. It is a holy act and is not something they are embarrassed of and i got to see it all. i´m not a blood thirsty killer but i think it was important to see and experience where your food comes from. if your willing to eat meat you should be accepting of how it gets on your plate. It was another experience i would have never had, had i booked a simple bus ticket.
the tour continued on to Merzouga where we exited our van and were rushed onto Camels, i named mine Carl and the small group headed out into the Sahara desert. I had purchased a beer a day back so i cracked it open and sipped my beer while sitting camel back in the Sahara, i passed it to my fellow travelers and all took in the views while slowly pushing through the desert. the experience was NOT comfortable, camels and the male anatomy don´t mix so well, but overall it was fantastic and wouldn´t take it back for anything. camping below a 15oft dune was amazing and watching the stars drift past me at night was unforgettable. highly recommended.

Fes: The streets, the chaos, the coffee shops were all fun, but over all i was not too impressed with the old city, it might be that i compared it to Marrakesh or the insanity of Varanasi India which it reminds me of, but i enjoyed two days here and called it quits.
Chefchaouen: the blue city, set in the hills of the Rif mountains are unbelievably gorgeous, the homes are all painted in blue, the streets narrow, but built on the hill the view of the city changes as you climb higher or lower. Heading out on the neighboring hills you can look back and see the city from a far and it almost looks like scattered pieces of a mosaic with blues and reds smashed together creating a collage which makes up the city. A mountain town with plenty of water a major crop harvested is weed, and hash is pushed on you relentlessly, in fact i would say it is absolutely impossible NOT to be offered hash 10 to 15 times a day if you walked in and out of the city. ¨how is your day? where are you from? so you need anything?¨ ¨NO, i don´t NEED ANYTHING¨ ¨are you sure, like you don´t need hash¨ ¨NOPE I DON´T NEED HASH¨ ¨are you sure you don´t need any, are you sure¨ and that is how your day is spent if you decide to stay in the city walls. I climbed out side, sat in the country side and took a nap in a field, one day, peaceful and quite. Minus the minor nuisance of the hash pushers, this city is pure gold and was one of my favorites.

Tangier: On arrival i thought that the place held little to no charm, but the deeper i wondered the more i found and was happily content with killing a couple of days here. Coffee shops, the old city, narrow streets, fried fish dishes, a smashed butter bean soup with a healthy scoop of real cold press olive oil, roasted chicken tossed in a special Moroccan seasoning, and some Internet is what i got involved with here. Not my favorite and in fact if i wasn´t killing time before entering Spain (to reduce the amount of euro i was about to spend) i could have only spent a day here, but not upset i spent .
Morocco was a good place to come, one i can see my self coming back to, the cuisine is simple but Delicious, tajines (braised meat dishes normally) is soul warming food, simple but good. I caught the ferry across the straight of Gibraltar and headed to Malaga Spain.

Morocco Email

Yet another Muslim country passes me bye and i havn´t realized how far from home i really am until i crossed the straight of Gibraltar on my two hour ferry, picked up my back pack and wondered into the Spanish Ferry Port. I looked for some food right away and noticed a deli of sorts, it hit me right away, i´m in Spain and there is chorizo, serrano and iberico ham to be eaten, being starved of pork in the Muslim countries i was quite excited. I quickly headed into to buy my self a sandwich and remembered how poor my Spanish skills really are, ¨una sandwich pequeno, con jamon y queso por favor¨ (one small sandwich with ham and cheese please), and then the questions came back in spanish which made little to no sense at all to me, since i didn´t even order the ¨sandwich¨in Spanish and just said ¨sandwich,¨ but i got my food and was happily on my way to the bus station to catch the next one out to the city of Malaga. Another interesting conversations in extremely poor Spanish and I had purchased my ticket and sat waiting for my bus. I looked up and noticed the decorations, i took the earphones out and listened to the music, it´s Christmas time!!! A holiday which doens´t exist in the countries i most recently traveled, Christmas was in my face and i laughed thinking about how different the two worlds are simply separated by a narrow strip of sea.

18 days in Morocco was enough for me, it is a country i can see my self returning to simply because of its close location to Europe and the flavors and food which i have enjoyed. My journey started in Marrakesh and was forced to take a rather unusual rout due to a major festival which grabs a hold of this country and nearly brings it to a crippling halt. In honor of a biblical story where Abraham slaughters a sheep in sacrifice to God (instead of his son), every Moroccan (Muslim family) kills a sheep or goat once a year. I was blessed with traveling the country when all buses, taxis, donkey carts, trains, and camels are booked solid but also had the privilege to witnessing this festival unfold in front to me as i slowly drove past a couple of small downs the day of the slaughter. A bit gruesome to see them killed, bleed, skinned, hung, and butchered all in public. I didn´t mind seeing it, as I am, and always have been a person who eats meat. I think the neat and clean packages stacked in our supermarkets filled with boneless, skinless, animal products are completely unrepresentative of what your are actually consuming, it makes us, at least me, forget that an animal had died and possibly lived a shitty life so i can stuff my fat face. I´m not going vegetarian on ya-all here (sorry to disappoint some) but i was happy to be reminded of how it all goes down.The hills of Morocco were beautifully peaceful as the Sahara desert was much of the same. I avoided riding an elephant while in Thailand due to cost and my disbelief that the animals were even marginally content with the life's they are forced to life. All though i feel partially the same with Camels i found it nearly irresistible to avoid sitting camel back and riding in the the endless sand dunes of the Sahara desert. A two hour, ball breaking ride (literally... quite painful) and my small group arrived at camp where we spent the night watching start pop over the massive 150ft dune we were camping under. From the busy markets of Marrakesh to the tight twisted alleys in Fes, to the colorful but quite streets Chefchaouen and the desolate Sahara desert i felt like i covered a fair bit of ground in a short while.

Morocco is a colorful place filled with culture and the last stop on the long twisted silk road which i have been traveling on and off for the past 15 months of my life. As a chef wondering into the spice markets in Marrakesh i smiled thinking about the distance i have traveled and the familiar sights i saw bottled up in front of me, star anis, galanga, lemon grass, cumin, coriander, different chili varieties, cinnamon, white pepper, black pepper, juniper, all spice, mace, green cardamom, black cardamom, along with the many others i couldn´t even identify. The flavors of the old world collected along the way passing in caravan style from Pacific Ocean and Beijing through Central Asia, into the middle east, across North Africa, dispersing across the Mediterranean into Europe or eventually making its way to the Atlantic here in Morocco. A world of flavor sat in front of me, and just like all those flavors, i´ll soon be heading across the ocean as well. Sitting now in Madrid Spain after arriving two days ago, eating tapas with some new friends, cooking dinner for some others, watching a Soccer match in a 50,000 person stadium last night, and waking up to snow on the cars this morning, i am currently waiting for my flight to Buenos Aries Argentina. I´ve been thinking about all the ground i have covered up until this point and it amazes me how far i have come. One last long air plane ride across the Atlantic Ocean puts me back in the Americas, just one step closer to home, with a few thousand miles of solid traveling ahead of me i´m ready to tackle one last continent.

Leaving Siwa

Some times it takes leaving an place to realize how beautiful, unique, or special it really is, Siwa Oasis was that kind of place for me.
My last morning is when I realized how great Siwa is, it's not necessarily the most beautiful, not the cleanest, and the accommodation didn't blow me away, the simplicity of life, the relaxed atmosphere and of course the people is what I missed in Siwa before I even left.

I woke early to get together some breakfast before Preston and I set out on our three day jeep caravan across the desert, I had already dialed in where to go for some good food. It was around 6:30am and there were more people than normal stirring about. I wandered down the dusty, sand filled street past a few donkey carts, a couple more passed me as I smiled at the man in the coffee shop, which is where I would be sitting at if I had just one more day.

I walked by a shop keeper who smiled at me as I passed, happy to see I was out and about with the locals. The street turnerd to mud and I tiptoed down the ally shoulder to shoulder with a young kid whom insisted speaking arabic to me, I smiled and nodded both of us knowing dame well I didn't have a clue what he was saying but we both laughed at the lack of communication.


Iron bars hung in the window of a crumbling old building, painted in faded pastels of yellow and blue. In front of the bars were 4 men dressed in robes and head scarves waiting for the same thing me and my young friend came to get, fresh pita. The bread came piping hot out of the oven and one by one the men in front of me scurried away smiling with stacks and stacks of hot bread. I picked up 5 pieces for a whopping 4cents and strolled back down the alley chomping away at my morning snack. The shop keeper who acknowledged me earlier winked and nodded his head in approval as I slowly made my way to my next stop.

The falafel stand selling a roasted eggplant salad with tomato and chillis and of course felafel. The gentleman behind the counter recognized me as this was my third time to his shop and greeted me with Asalaam Alekium (may peace be upon you) and my response Alekium A Salaam (upon you may there be peace). Picked out my falafel and grabbed some eggplant salad and walked back to meet preston with breakfast.

Picking up our case of water we purchased for our desert excursion the man at the coffee shop offered us a free ride to our jeep and we happily declined as it was only 100 yards away. The sleepy town was slowly coming to life as we were passed by more of the popular local transport, 2 wheeled carts pulled by donkeys, the character and charm of this slow moving town was trotting past us as we made our way to the 4x4 that would soon be home for the next few days.

Exiting siwa we cruised through small dirt roads just wide enough for a donkey cart and our 4x4 to fit through, small date trees which can be mistaken for palms lined the road creating a bit of shade in the early morning heat. The jeep picked up speed as we rolled to the edge of town and began to cruised at a steady 45mph. We passed over a large dirt causeway Which split one large salt lake into two. We drove for a few minutes watching the water go from a deeper blue to a shallow tourquise and eventually evaporating into the salt lined desert floor which I would soon be driving through for days. I looked ahead to see what was in front of us and the jeep rolled to a Stop, the road forked, the lakes, dates, and Siwa were all behind me. I glanced down the road to the left to see a narrow stretch of pavment reaching as far as the eye can see. My jeep turned right and as my eyes shifted to the windscreen infront of me, where the view pretty much remained the same and the 7 of us in the jeep sped off into "the great sea of sand."

...we stopped for the night amongst sand and odd shaped rock formations, I look up at the sky and the stars made me remember how small I really am. Stepping away from the camp fire and the glow of the camping light which illuminates the large mat my self and the 5 others will be sleeping on, I stop for a moment and allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness. My shoes are off and I can feel the soft sand between my toes. Preston has already laid out a mat and is on his back taking in the view. On a moonless night by the light of the stars I peer out into the desert to see a a rugged landscape and even more stars creeping up over the horizon. I took my place on the cool sand laying on my back a few feet from Preston enjoying the silence and peace of the desert night. One can get lost in thought out here, lost in imagination, and easily lost marveling over the simple beauty of the desert. The silence was broken by the soft song being sung by our guide in Arabic, I sat up and caught a whiff of the nights dinner being cooked over a wood fire. I took in one last eye full of stars and began to grin because here I was miles from home watching the stars pop over the horizon in the Egyptian desert, life is good. I followed my nose back to the camping mats and looked forward to warm dinner on this cool desert night.

Egypt update

Not many roads comprise this country, it is a huge area with lots of empty land, sand dunes do not roll on as far as the eye can see as i once though, but the desert is large and can be perceived as endless when sitting out in the middle of it on a starry night. The Oasis towns are particularly interesting, some not so pleasant, but remarkable to see where people settled simply because of water and an underground spring. An ancient country with beautiful ruins, museums and history that can keep you busy for years, i enjoyed Egypt and was impressed with how friendly the people remain considering the millions of tourists whom plow through there country each year.



As it has been for thousands of year the Nile river valley provides almost all the land to sustain life and it's this narrow stretch of land that gets tramped by tourists day in and day out. Some visitors complain about being ripped off, scammed, or hassled by aggressive Egyptians, i say deal with it or don't come! Egypt for me was a good time!




Cairo: a bustling city of millions trapped with both old and new world ideas, farm land still being used along the nile river, prime real estate that strong willed locals refuse to give up. There is the urban sprawl of Giza which pushes up just a few feet from the entrance to the great pyramids and the sphinx. Donkey's and Camels still exist just a few miles from the city center along side tall buildings and consumer driven locals. The current direction of Cairo is apparent while the history and past has been put on display in the Cairo Museum.
I enjoyed the pyramids which can be reached in a simple day trip, i was amazed at how close to the city they actually are and surprised in how many people roam the desert attempting to sell you crap. i was a bit taken back when a police man asked me for a tip when he pointed me in the same direction i was heading and also surprised when i told him to piss-off and he just smiled.

Siwa: just about 50 miles from the Lybia boarder this sleepy little Oasis was a awesome place to chill for a few days. there is a fair bit to see and do, from sand boarding, to bike rides, to 4x4ing on the dunes, swimming in the hot springs, or wandering through the date plantations. the town is filled with 2 wheeled carts that are pulled by donkeys, it's how kids get to school, local restaurant delivery are made or just a way to get from point A to point B, donkey carts were everywhere.
being so isolated the town was quaint, quiet, and relaxing, it was also a dry (no booze), so my plan to drink tequila and ride around on a cart with a long stick and a thin rope with a carrot tied to the end (my cartoon vision of some obsucre life someone mayh have had) with my buddy Preston was foiled by the lack of "juice." probably a good thing but i'm sure it would have made for a good story. Siwa was a good place, about a 12hr bus from Cairo and the starting point to my desert tour.

Baharia, Black Desert, White Desert: Leaving Siwa in a 4x4 we were heading to Baharia another small Oasis town in the middle of nowhere. 450klm later we arrived in town after rolling for hours through the sand and bumpy roads. Baharia was not a place to go and hang out, not much going on but a ok place to stop for a cold beer after a long drive, unfortunately my guide wasn't havin' any of that and out to the desert we went to camp for the night.
Black Desert was nice to drive through but really not as interactive as the White. the white was filled with odd shaped mineral deposits which were left behind by evaporating water, as 1000's of years ago it was once the ocean floor. Shells line the desert as well reflecting the light of the sun to give you this truly odd glare. we camped in the white desert which was fantastic and would recommend doing for at least one full day and night, it was a cool place to drive through.

Aswan and Abu Simbal: Aswan was the middle point for a day trip to Abu simbal and a boat ride up the nile in a faluca all in one day. Up at 3am we got in a bus to about 100 miles from the Sudan boarder to see one of Egypts national treasures. a Monument which they cut up into large stone section and moved to a new location due to rising water from the Aswan dame. Impressive that people could build such structures 4000 years ago and equally impressive to see that it can be moved and a whole fake mountain created to house it. Personally i found it to be a bit far and if given the choice again may have passed on trekking all the way down here to get to it.
we hopped back on the bus drove 3.5 hours back through the desert to Aswan where we boarded a Faluca (boat) which powered by the wind took me and a 5 other travelers up river where we camped for the night. This i would have done for 2 nights but foolishly only paid for 1.

Luxor: Karnak Temple was and impressive religious sight and daunting to walk though. i found comprehending its age and its elaborate design to be near impossible. Valley of the Kings left me feeling the same way. The Knowledge of the Ancient Egyptians and their ability to build such things is very very impressive. while here i was also fortunate to celebrate the victory of an Egyption soccer match against algeria which pushed for a play off (which they lost days later) to get into the world cup. Preston and I were having a cold beer on the roof top of the hostel when we heard the explosion in the streets, cars were honking their horns, screaming and shouting. we ran down to the street knowing exactly what had happened and joined in on the celebration. An hour later i had found my self, riding 3 deep on a mortorcycle, standing on the roof of a few cars, mini vans, and taxis along with countless other Egyptions screeming EEEEEEEEEEEGYPT on top of my lungs. Hi-fivin' locals, shakin' hands and kissin' babies.... it was a lot of fun to see how well we were recieved for cheering for the home team, an experience to say the least.


Back in Cairo, Preston and I chilled out for a few days, ate some good local food and preparied to part ways. me on to Morocco and him down to Tanzania. I enjoyed my stay in egypt.

Egypt Email

Time is moving faster than ever!

December 3rd will mark 15 months on the road, god i can't believe it and never would have if you told me this before i had left. Do i miss home a lot of people have recently asked? Well sure, how can you not, but i don't think it's my physical home that i miss more than life being simple, knowing where i will be that day, knowing how i'll get there, and where i'll be laying down for the night. I miss the simple things like opening up the refrigerator and making my self a meal, washing my own cloths in a washing machine that actually works, having a day off. i know that sounds crazy, i have had 15 months off (more or less), but a day in my home, any home where i can type on my computer, see friends, talk on the phone, watch some mindless television, or even just get in the car and go for a drive, those are things i miss.

My Camera lens broke a few counties back and fixing it has proven to be tough than expected. my camera bag/day bag has broken zippers, i have sewed all my shorts because tears are happening more frequently now, i hopped a barbwire fence in New Zealand to take a photo and sure enough i tore those pants as well. My shoes, well, they are melting off my feet as we speak and i'm amazed that they still stay on, i'm on my 9th pair of flip flops, and my hat collect more filth by the day. the cloths i have are sun faded and a bit raggedy but they'll make the journey home just like i will. My body can feel the affects of time as well, over night buses which were once a great way to skip out on a nights rent in a hostel are now getting painful and although i do eat well the constant change of diet isn't always pleasant on the stomach. Regardless, change, challenges, and variety are the spice of life and it's still a happy life i live.

regardless of the condition of the cloths, the gear i carry, random cravings for a everyday life, and the occasional back pain from long distance travel, Egypt the country i just visited has flown by faster than i have ever expected, in fact time is moving faster now than it ever has before. twenty three days of museums, pyramids, temples, boats, trains, and deserts has made thinking about home near impossible. As I have missed my friends and family since the day i left, i have also met some amazing people in the process including a fantastic American whom i had the pleasure of traveling Egypt with (Preston). Although all of you are on my mind, a trip like this does not come everyday and the excitement of new countries and tasty food is still pushing me forward. Amazingly the thrill of travel has yet to grow old and as i glanced at a calendar today to check the date, look at flights, and plan for the future my heart nearly sank when i realized that 2009 is coming to a rapid end, it has been a brilliant eye opening year, and i'm STILL HUNGRY FOR MORE!!!

The Heat of the desert is visible as you peer off across the sand, the sun is high and the hair on top of your head feels like it is going to burst into flames. There are few dunes but you are surrounded with sand and you look off in the distance and you can see a faint patch of green, it's a Oasis. As you approach with a parched mouth, sun burnt hands and a scarf wrapped around your face to shield you from the elements you notice that it was all a just a marriage...

Well, thankfully i never experience this feeling but the thought of an Egyptian desert Oasis was something i needed to scratch an itch for. Thinking back when i was a child and seeing movies and cartoons that depict these romantic locations i was curious to see how they truly are. In reality most of them are far from pleasant but Siwa a mere 50 miles from the Lybia Boarder was quite a nice surprise, date trees lined the side of the road, carts pulled by donkeys were equally as popular as cars or motor bikes, life moves slow and i was happy to soak that up while i had a chance. I moved quickly through Egypt but it was at Siwa where me and Preston got to settle down briefly and experience desert life as it slowly rolled past us in the form of a donkey cart. As the rest of Egypt was as expected filled with must visit tourist sights, Siwa and the desert was that slice of something different that i really enjoyed.

Moving faster than i normally would have, Egypt pasted me by in the blink of an eye. Driving through the desert for 3 days, hitching rides in a flat bed truck, swimming in an Oasis fresh water spring, sleeping on a faluca (Egyptian sail boat) on the Nile, visiting the pyramids, luxor, valley of the kings along with other national monuments was great they were a must, something i had wanted to see since i was a kid and i was happy to finally experience what they are truly like.

PHOTO LINK:

http://picasaweb.google.com/vaccaro.marc2424/MarcvaccaroEgypt?feat=directlink

Entering Syria

I wake up in my dingy bedroom roughly 8feet by 10feet and am wondering what i was doing here. to get to this point in Turkey i was coming from Malatya where i purchased the wrong bus ticket, after a game of charades at the bus station trying to explain in English to the non-english speaking Turkish bus attendant that i wanted to go to Antakya not Goziantep, i gave up and sat quietly on the bus until it rolled to a stop 3 hours later. More charades ensued and i got my point across, i was out to the boarder town and arrived at 8:40pm.

I hate these towns, filled with scammer, con artists, and people just trying to make a buck, i typically dismiss them and head across the boarder as quickly as i can but this was different, this was Syria and i know that as an American i had some waiting around to do at the boarder (to obtain a visa) and didn't want to show up late at night and turn it into a overnight stay. Forced to enjoy my last night in Turkey i wandered around eating some more Kebabs before dragging my sorry ass back to my terrible little room. I woke at 7:00am and walked out to the taxi/bus stop and was assaulted by taxis offering me outrageous prices for a ride to Aleppo, Syria. Ignoring them i took a stroll to a huge fruit and veg market getting lost in the screaming and shouting and chaos of the market. I picked up some baked goods knowing my next few hours may be long and painful and headed back to the buses, where i purchased my ticket and was off.

It is rummered that Americans can wait up to 9hours for a visa, just getting to the boarder after 9am, could take up to 4 hours of bumper to bumper traffic, so getting on my bus early was a must. As I pulled out of town i looked out my window at the shops to see spinning chicken and lamb kebabs, rotating whole chickens over coal fires, a man selling Simits (bread) on a large wood platter carrying it on his head, i soaked up the last minutes of Turkey and began to prepare for what lay ahead.



40 minutes on the bus and i watch the scenery change driving from city, to small towns, through olive grooves and finally out to the rural country side, i look up at the rocky hills and immediately notice a Guard Towers perched overlooking the valley. my eyes followed the landscape down which opened up to fields that eventually lead to the side of the road where weathered concrete pillars held countless strands of old rusty barbwire. A few miles down the road the rusted barbwire was accompanied by fresh barbwire and more guard towers, i took a wild guess, i must be getting closer to Syria. The bus drove on and i can see the frame of an old broken down stone building, seconds later we rolled under a big red sight that said "Good Bye," i was leaving Turkey and heading into the middle east.



The bus stops and the 14 passengers are ushered off in an unknown directions. No one speaks english but true to all countries you need a exit stamp so i cued up as the others foolishly walked past the long lines. minutes later i was through the line waiting for my fellow passengers who just then had realized they needed an exit stamp. Now back on the bus crossing over "no mans land" (neutral zone) and on to a large building where yet another much anticipated game of charades would be followed by the painfully long visa process. I got lucky, I was assisted by a Syrian man who was attempting to get his Turkish friend through the same process, neither of us had visas, but for me it was a bit of a gamble, where for him it was simply time. At first i thought i would be in and out in no time at all, my Syrian friend was being overly helpful, but then all of a sudden everything came crashing to a halt, the power turned off. As if this is a common occurrence everyone quietly walks away from the crowded visa window, i was next up and was hesitant to sit down but following the others i too shuffled away as there was nothing i could do but wait. I wait patiently by my self, thinking where the hell am I? Thinking how on earth can the power go out at a military base, a boarder crossing? More people begin to come in, more tour buses arrive and i begin to get overly anxious, i begin to fidget waiting for the sign of power to bring life back into this building. 30min. later i saw the flicker of a light, the fan started to tic and pick up speed, the quite stale air burst into a sweaty frenzy as we all dash forward pushing towards the window. i lost out in my spot by one position but quickly payed by 16usd, got my much needed paper stamped and ran over to yet another officer for more question and answer on why i'm coming to Syria. NOW that the waiting game began.

I sat for 1 hour, 2 hours, my bus had left me as all the other passengers had their visas in 30 minutes, i watched crowds of people come and go, a full building of commuters, boarder crossers filling the room and then draining back out. More buses showed up and Arabs all pushing each other back and forth holding there green USD in their hands and screaming in an unfamiliar language, to pay there stamp fee and get thier visas. It was a scene out of the every day life of a wall street stockbroker but instead of buying stock all they wanted was to get in front of the next guy in line and make their way across the boarder, i sat and watched in amazement truly observing a culture I had never seen before.



More buses come and go and i sit longer, i sit on my back pack, i sit on the ground amongst the stale cigarette butts, spilled chai (tea), i sit amongst the flies which relentlessly land on any piece of exposed skin. As if waiting wasn't torture enough, the flies certainly increased my insanity levels. 3, 4, 5 hours tick by and finally a man comes and gets me, hands me the passport and pushes me towards another line.
An Arab man with a thick black mustache and a tan uniform sat behind the desk blankly looking at me, cigarette hanging between his lips with a long cone of ash still clinging on as it continues to burn longer. he grabs my passport and begins clicking away at the computer. a cup of chai on his left and a large fat immigration guard on his right methodically flipping through passports stamping them, then throwing them into a pile. sweat dripping off his round face onto the desk or what ever he was working on. I looked back to the man with my passport continuously clicking away, i looked up at the lights on the ceiling and all i can think is please let the power hold out for another minute or two. Again, back to my cigarette smoking immigration officer to see the long ash had hit the desk next to my passport, but this didn't matter because in his hand was an inked up stamp, he smacks it down on an already cluttered passport page. No smile, tight lips, dark eyes, and a thick black mustache, he looks at me and nods his head as he passes it over through the window..... I'm IN.