Lentils and Rice and Everything Nice Part 1

Here starts my blogging on my trip to Morocco. The first question most people ask themselves is, "Mica, why the hell would you go to Morocco and camp in the desert, you hate this stuff?" This was a question I also asked myself during the trip, and you will soon see why.  The first part of the trip me Maryann, and our friend Taylor all had to get to Seville in southern Spain. We woke up at 4:30 to catch our cheap 7 am flight, and I already wasn't feeling well. We got to Seville, and I slept the whole day because my throat was killing me and I had a fever. A great way to start an African adventure. I felt well enough to go for Tapas with a big group in Seville, which was awesome. Some of the best Spanish food and really cheap. The next morning my right tonsil was swollen and white, so Maryann and I had to go to the emergency clinic since it was a Saturday. Of course no one spoke English. Luckily, the throat spoke for itself. I picked up on most of what the doctor said especially when she said INJECION. I asked para que and the doctor responded para dolor ( for pain). At this point I didn't ask many questions. From there we saw the giant Gothic cathedral and met up with people from our group to watch the final four. We didn't book a hostel that night because our bus left at 4 am. This is why I may have napped on the table at the tex mex bar. This was only the beginning of sleeping in unacceptable places. From here we all wandered to the bus to start the endless journey to Morocco. After 2 hours on the bus we arrived at the ferry aka hell. We all slept in the gross lobby by the ferry then stood in line for 2 hours outside the ferry crammed with tons of families and smelly men. Then on the ferry we waited in yet another line for an hour. The Moroccos don't know how to have efficient passport checks. I literally felt like I was immigrating from another country.  We were all in foul moods. Then we hopped on the bus for another 6 hours. Needless to say this was why I asked myself, what the hell did you sign up for? We made it to Fes for dinner, and luckily there was a delicious buffet where i started my week of cous cous and lentils. The next morning we went into the Medina which is similar to the Israeli shuck. Tiny streets filled with donkeys and Arab men selling you things for " very good price". Our program brought us to a pharmacy where everyone bought crap that probs won't work, and a beautiful scarfs store. We also went to a tannery where leather is made. The smell was so bad they gave us mint that we all shoved up our noses. Watching the men outside making the leather was crazy, and I have now put that down on my list of jobs I could never do. The city of Fes was very poor, but the people really didn't harass us like we expected. No one put snakes on people then asked for money or made comments to the girls. Also I wasn't lookin so hot that day so maybe that's why I didn't get harassed, but i like to think they were respectful. That night i went to a belly dancing show, which given their rules on modesty was definitely interesting. The next day would start the SCHLEP and i mean on the schlep scale a 21 to the Sahara. Stay tuned. BESOS
Moroccan Mica

Mr. Brownie in Portugal

While I may not have known anything about Portugal or it's capital, which is Lisbon by the way, I left this beautiful country feeling wiser and relaxed. Right when I landed with 4 other girls we had arranged a food and wine tour. We decided to stay in a guest house out in a beach town called Cascais, so we literally backpacked our way through this tour. Our smart ass tour guide kept complaining about how slowly we moved. I should have asked if he wanted to take my bag. He introduced us to the delicacies of Portugal. We started with a lemon pastry and a pastry actually made from beans. He really should have waited till after we ate to say the beans part, because it was really delicious. Then we had our first shot of Espresso. He ranted about how Americans get addicted to caffeine and how the Portuguese drink 5 shots of espresso a day because it's their culture. I told him they were all addicted. Then he complained about how Americans take coffee to go in gross cups and don't sit and enjoy. I did't say anything, but I almost said there is a reason we are more well known than Portugal and that's because we don't sip espresso all day, but i refrained. After a beautiful tour learning about all the different types of people living in Portugal and seeing the city we ventured to Cascais, where we were hoping for beautiful weather, but of course it rained almost the whole time . Cascais seemed like the Destin of Portugal. Bright colored buildings, restaurants on the water, and small fun shops everywhere. We stayed at an adorable guest house run by a single mom. It was out of a an ikea/ pottery barn magazine. It was the first time i showered during a weekend trip. The funniest part is that this women had a cat named Mr. Brownie who got into everything. It wasn't even senor brownies. Hearing this Portuguese women yell "Mr. Brownie off da counter" was always funny. We ate "piri piri " aka grilled chicken with a weird spicy sauce. The food was nothing to rave about.  The best part was going to Sintra. Maryann and i now judge everything by the schlep factor. Sintra rated at about a 7 because it required 3 different types of transportation.  It was worth it to see the city and the awesome Penna castle.  Then we hurried back to soak up as much sun as possible the last day. It was a relaxing trip to a place I never thought I would go!

Besos

Mica