Am I there yet?

First day back in Athens was also my last with Deb, Marie and Al. I was unexpectedly invited along to an early evening soirée at their hotel roof terrace, which provided fabulous views down to the columns of the Temple of Zeus and up to the Acropolis. A fitting farewell after a fabulous week.

I was now on my third stop in Athens this trip so it was time to see a few of the originals from the ruins I’d visited a couple of weeks ago.

First stop the Athens Archeological Museum. It was a real treat. You could spend a day there but I got a good sense of some of the key pieces in a couple of hours. They even had a nice little Egyptian section.

I then decided to make my way to the funicular to get up to Lyttivos Hill. A couple of corners on and I encountered three buses full of riot police. They were piling out hanging onto their shields so imagining something was going down I got out of there rather quickly. As I continued on I noticed that all the shops looked long abandoned – they were half full and locked up with bars and chain wire. I’d thought I was walking through the uni area but realised it was a bit of a ghetto. Bought back memories of a similar experience in Bogotá, Colombia. Time for even more speed!

I was soon in a reasonable looking suburb but despite all the uphill there was no sign of a funicular ticket office. After asking a couple of taxi drivers who provided conflicting advice I was finally winding my way up to the lookout. The view of Athens made the hike up the hill worth it and it helped walk off the orange syrup and honey soaked cake I’d purchased in the way up!

Looking down on the Acropolis provided a different perspective, particularly with the sea in the background. It was starting to rain so thankfully the funicular was nearby from that end!  It seemed appropriate to finish the day with a fries laden veggie gyros in a Monastiraki Taverna!

I hadn’t yet visited the Acropolis museum so that was my main target for the day. Wow!  The pottery found around the city during excavations were amazing but the Korai, Caryatids, that were from the Erechtheion on the Acropolis were quite mesmerising. Only a couple are original with the others replicas (Greeks still trying to get originals back from the British).

There there were the freizes from the Parthenon. The museum had cleverly fused original pieces in with reconstructions to give you a true sense of the actual scale. More wows!

I’d spotted a cool looking spot in the airline mag en-route to Athens so decided to give it a go for dinner. It didn’t disappoint.  All traditional food sourced locally. The only disappointment was that the rooftop terrace was too cool (I mean in a temperature kind of a way) to stay for a drink.

I farewelled the guys in Filema, the restaurant below my room, with a lovely traditional Greek lunch. I’d eaten there before and one of the waiters had told me the night before as I was heading out that he liked my eyes – great marketing strategy.

After coming and going from the 1840s home shared with a few locals I’d become to feel like a local myself. Although waking to see the uncovered frescoes on my bedroom wall was a constant reminder I was in Athens, one of the world’s oldest cities.

I’d also had a little touch of my heritage while I was here. My grandmother, who was half Greek, had always given dad a layered biscuit chocolate cake for his birthday. Needless to say we all looked forward to dad’s birthday each year but I don’t think any of us has realised it is actually a Greek desert; likely handed down from Grandma’s family!

Now I find myself en-route to the Athens airport (having passed yet more ruins – this time in the metro) with a bag a little heavier than when I left.  What a wonderful holiday it has been – full of wonderment, mindfulness, love and laughter. There was nothing more could I ask for…

The ruins at Hadrian’s Library

Sardines – yum!

Just strolling past Hadrian’s Arch en-route to rooftop meze and drinks

Acropolis mesmerising by day or night

Ruins of the Temple of Zeus

A fusion of frescoes and graffiti in the bedroom of my 1840s accommodation

The Mycenaean treasures

Bronze statue of Zeus – 450 BC – uncovered in the sea

Naxian marble statue of Kouros – 600 BC

The Varvakeion Athena – truest and best preserved copy of the one that stood in the Parthenon – although it was twelve times bigger and naked parts were in ivory and the rest in leaves of gold

Vapheio gold cups

The mask of Argememnon – found in Mycenae – ~1500 BC

The Vapheio cups that inspired Picasso 

Frescoes from Thira (Santorini)

Ancient glass – 3rd/2nd century BC

Bronze statue of horse and young jockey also found from a shipwreck 

Hadrian’s gentlemen

Original relief sculptures from Epidaurus

En-route to Lyttivos Hill

Views from Lyttivos Hill

The Caryatids of the Erectheion on the Acropolis 

The omni-present Acropolis

Reliefs from the Acropolis Propylaia (entrance gate)

The city excavations below the Acropolis Museum

Life began here sometime between 3500 and 300 BC …a little while ago!

Tower of the Winds (used as sundial and wind vane)

A great feed of seafood st Ergon House

Filema spoiling me with their Greek rusk salad and zucchini balls as a final farewell to Athens

I farewelled my fellow mat buddies at the port of Naxos Island. I had a three hour wait till my ferry to Santorini was due to depart so I wasted no time in getting my luggage stored in the town, visiting the unfinished ancient temple and heading up through the old town.

I found myself blocking the way of an older guy who was trying to navigate  the narrow pedestrian laneways on a scooter. He signalled to me to jump on the back. I thought why not, it was all uphill so a ride seemed a sensible thing to do!  I laughed my head off when he reached for his helmet on the back of his bike because as he did this I thought how considerate of him to offer it to me since he wasn’t using it but he then proceeded to put it on. Must of thought I could become a hazard to him – thankfully we both got to the destination unscathed. I bade him farewell and headed toward the castle fort wall, which unfortunately was closed so I settled for a casual walk back down to the port town. It was quite a labyrinth.

Before long I stumbled into a shop owned by a Melbourne couple who’d settled on the island three years ago. I felt it was my civil duty to buy a pair of shoes from them.  Treacy and Bron who’d also gotten off at Naxos reported back that they had been made aware by the Naxion Australian of a shoe purchase by their fellow mat buddy! 

After buying the biggest green olives I’ve ever seen I was back on a ferry and heading for Santorini.

The port arrival in Santorini (the island is also known as Thira) was just as disorderly as the Naxos departure. After a bit of mucking around I finally found the spot for the bus stop to Fira, which would be my bus changeover spot for Oia.

Bus stops on Santorini are something else. The driver and ticket conductors are very abrupt and you almost fear you’ll be kicked off for breathing!  Needless to say it was a delight when Deb greeted me at the Oia bus stop with her beaming smile. Equally as lovely to see Marie and Al on arrival at the hotel. A terrible virus was making its way through  their tour group and Jeff had recently succumbed so I didn’t see him for a couple of days.

After a brief sighting of the Caldera of Santorini Marie, Deb and I enjoyed a lovely evening out and I had a late night wander through the town. I couldn’t believe the throngs of people I’d seen earlier in the evening. It was the end of the season but the number of cruise ship passengers on Santorini was incredible – shoulder to shoulder was not at all what I had imagined of Santorini.

The next day we were out on an old timber sloop Pegasus, for a boat trip (sadly only motoring). First stop was an island with more than 10 volcanoes. The visible sulphur gases were a reminder of the near and present danger. There were measuring instruments visible all over the island; apparently the inhabitants of Santorini would have a six month warning for the next eruption. The last one pretty much devastated the place in the mid 1900s.

Next stop was a swim in the supposed ‘warm’ waters that were benefiting from the sulphur springs – we didn’t really think there was much temperature difference until we had to swim back through the cooler waters to reach the boat.  Final stop was the island of Thirasia for a lovely seafood lunch perched on the water’s edge.

Some of Deb’s friends from the UK had arrived so we took full advantage of our private roof terrace to catch the sunset over drinks and meze. Some of us wandered out for some more drinks and were pleasantly surprised how peaceful it was once the cruise ships had their passengers back on board.

I’d decided to tackle the hike between Oia and Fira. I’d wanted to catch a bus to Fira and walk back to Oia (reportedly about 100m less elevation – believe me it counts!) but I’d left it too late for this option so headed off in the heat of the day. Unfortunately the Greeks don’t do walking trail signs very well so I had a little trouble finding the start of the track and then again in Imerovigli and Fira but with a bit of local help I made it in a cool 2hrs and 20mins. I was certainly motoring and the tears I’d witnessed of a couple of women and pained faces of others suggested they’d underestimated the walk. There was plenty of up and the sun was brutal when the breeze was blocked by the mountain.

That evening was very special but that’s a secret to be revealed later this month.  All I can say is that I found love in Santorini and that that the UK contingency were up for the after-party in my courtyard.

It was time to go shopping….it’s what you do in Santorini when not chilling by your pool or taking in the views with a drink in hand. Needless to say my suitcase was getting a little more dense!  The day was finished off with dinner and drinks by our pool with the tour group and of course a few more drinks out with my new UK friends Joy and John and Cheryl and Jonathon. Jonathan had been a little forward in offering sex on the beach, which I responsibly declined in favour of Amaretto on ice.  Laughs, laughs and more laughs…

Deb and Jeff were now feeling really well so the next morning we ventured down to Ammoudi Bay in the hope of a swim. The breeze had whipped up choppy water so only Jeff was brave enough to venture in. The Bay still rewarded us with a great seafood lunch which included their famed grilled octopus…delicious!

The tour group had been invited by the Papadopolous Family to a Greek wedding in Fira that evening. With the promise of dancing, merriment and a taste of Greek wine and appetizers who could resist?  It was a fun night that lived up to its promises – we were welcomed as part of the family and of course all named Helena or Costas. Couldn’t leave the Greek islands without a bit of plate smashing.

There is no doubt that Santorini is Instagram heaven for those wanting to strike the pose. On our way to Fira for the wedding I spotted a woman on a quadbike without a helmet zooming along while taking a selfie of herself. I kid you not!

I arrived back into Athens with the reality that my holiday was nearing its end.  It had been a wonderful week of love and laughs with wonderful friends from my first ever job and the gaining of new friends from the UK. Memories that will last a lifetime.

A sunrise departure 

The farewell party at Naxos Island

Unfinished Temple of Apollo

The lovely labyrinth of Kastro

Onwards to Thira (Santorini)

Rooftop drinks

Deb and Jeff on the road to recovery

Al, Marie, Jonathon, Cheryl, John, Joy, Jeff and Deb

Sunset time

 All aboard Pegasus 

Leaving Oia in our wake

Sulphur gases from one of the volcanoes 

Buses navigating the windy and steep road up from the port

Leaving Oia – destination Fira

Fira within sight

A journey down to Ammoudi Bay

….a sustenance stop

Lunch!

A farewell sunset in Fira

Eat, pray, love….well actually, more eating than praying!

Arriving at the right ferry terminal was an absolute fluke for Karen and I. With the late change in date for the retreat caused by the proposed ferry strike, Karen and I had missed the latest email about the change in terminal!  Despite this we managed to be scratching our heads at the very right moment when our wonderful yogi, Craig Smith, appeared from a ticket office doorway. A sign for a smooth seven days ahead!

It was wonderful to re-connect with a few people I’d met and shared a villa with at Craig’s Bali Pemuteran retreat five years ago.  We were all waiting anxiously on the ferry for the final retreaters, Dave and Julia, to arrive. They’d left from Milan that day so it was one of those ‘will they make it’ experiences, which thankfully they did.

While it was a long trip of six hours, we were blessed with a smooth crossing to our destination the beautiful Amorgos Island in the Cycladic group in the Aegean Sea. We’d had to stay in a little place along the beach of Aegali because of our early arrival to Amorgos resulting from the strike.  We’d settled into our rooms at 2am so we were all just elated when we woke to find our breakfast area just metres from the sea!

We sat looking at the sea and our lovely accommodation perched on the hill above it. We knew from below we were in for a treat!

Seven days of absolute bliss at Aegialis Hotel and Spa.

While the accommodation was absolutely beautiful we also had to remember we were there for yoga!  The daily program included early morning yoga and meditation, mid morning meditation and application of yogic philosophy and finished with afternoon yoga, pranayama breathing and chanting.  I’d chosen to attend all sessions enjoying every bit of them and growing my knowledge of self and future possibilities.

We had a four and a half hour break through the day from lunch, which we put to good use.  We did a five hour hike from the Monastery of Panagia Hozoviotissa (oldest in Greece) to the port town of  Aegali on mine and Ken’s birthday (made very special by our mat buddies and yogi) and Karen, Tracy, Bron and I had hired a car for a day giving us an opportunity to go further afield and to get a taste of the little villages in the nearby hills – sleepy and whisper quiet; delightful.  Of course there was time didn’t in the steam room and saltwater float pool!

Amorgos is known for its natural beauty. Hence you find people exploring the trails of the hills, which are covered in herbs such as thyme and sage. The island prides itself on distilling its herbs for sale – waste not want not!  With that in mind we visited the herb distillery in the nearby Lagkada village – of course couldn’t leave without a few purchases.

A final dip in the sea before our last supper complete with Greek music and joining in for the Greek dancing.  Of course Zorba turned up!

Not only had I got to be blissed out for seven days, I’d found a new friend and Nia. My room mate for the week, Bron, was a kiwi now living in Scotland who instructs Nia (healing dance movement). We had gotten on like a house on fire and I knew I now had a reason to visit Scotland!

It was hard to let go of this wonderful place but I knew I’d see these beautiful people again on their mats and I had five nights in Santorini with Deb, Jeff, Marie and Al to look forward to!  With the possibility of a reunion with fellow mat buddies Tracey and Bron…bonus!

The first view of our hotel!

Feeling very special

Our yoga and meditation shala sitting high and overlooking the beautiful beach. 

Karen and Bron 

Panagia Hozoviotissa Monastery – oldest in Greece

I’ve got this!

Shepherd’s shelter 

I don’t know…you?

Hike birthday cake for me and Ken

Feeling relieved the destination is finally in sight!

Ken and I getting our birthday wishes 

Serenaded by a wonderful violinist 

Path decorations throughout Lagkada village

Float pool in wet spa 

Off on our sightseeing day – site used to film La Grande Bleu

…and another one 

Little marina we stumbled upon 

Thankfully Tracy had her eyes peeled for the wreck – a little hike to get in 

Byzantine Church

The inconspicuous herb distillery 

Bron on a fact finding mission 

Raj – thought he’d look like one of the girls if he wore Bron’s hat

Our last sunset on Amorgos 

Our last Amorgos sunrise!

Our farewell cheerleaders

A smooth arrival into Athens!  Time to sit on a bus for four days and be told where to be and when. I was looking forward to the rest from the logistics of travel!

Our Greek guide, Joy, was very knowledgeable and entertaining. We learnt early that six of the 11 million people in Greece live in Athens (explained the traffic) and that it’s the 3rd most mountainous country after Norway and Albania. As a consequence it is very picturesque.

Our first stop was at the Corinth Canal.  Was once a widely used commercial passage but not wide enough these days for the large ships so mainly used for touristic purposes. I was surprised to hear that Greece has the largest commercial fleet in the world.  The Canal had essentially created one more of the more than 3 000 islands of Greece the Peloponnese. This one being part of the 10% that are inhabited!

The next stop was to the Acropolis of Mycenae (13 to 15 century BC). The king lived in his palace at the top while the people of the community lived around it. Unlike most arrangements the necropolis (burial place) was built inside the walls of the Acropolis – most likely because it contained a fair amount of gold (14kgs recovered in masks, etc). We entered through the well preserved Lion’s Gate which was mentioned in Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey (his writings had helped archaeologists identity the site).

On the other side of the field we found the Treasury of Atreus; a Mycenaean tomb believed to belong to the last royal dynasty (Agamemnon) it was the last tomb built. The inside was shaped like a cone, achieved by building the blocks around a hill before excavating the internal dirt. The capstone was obviously the most critical component holding it all together. I was getting lovely memories of helping Paula build the earthbag house back in Colombia!

Back on the road until we reached Epidaurus – birthplace of Apollo’s son Asclepius – the healer – featuring the ancient theatre that accommodates up to 14 000 people and the former healing centre of classical Greece. The limestone construction was just one of the methods that were used to help project the voices of the performers.

Our last stop for the day was Nafplio, a lovely seaside town surrounded by three fortresses – one at sea and two on the hills. A mark of the occupation of the Venetians.

Day two started early for a trip to Olympia, birthplace of the Olympic Games. It was quite surreal getting an overview of the Olympic village, gymnasiums and hotels. The Olympics started as a festival to Zeus in 770 BC and ended in 392 AD when devout Christians banned the non-Christian festival. They were held every four years, lasted for five days and included the sacrifice of 100 oxen, which were served to the spectators. As a consequence of the athletes conducting their sport nude there were only male participants and spectators!

The modern Olympic Games were started again in Athens in 1896 on the suggestion of a French baron after Olympia was re-discovered. It wasn’t until 1924 that women joined the Games!

The stadium was more like the old Gabba Hill!  Seating capacity of 45 000 on the grass hill (no stone seating, which would have been too hard and heated up too much).

The site was an impressive 13 000 square metres.

There were strict rules of the Games including fasting for a week before your event (no eggs, meat, etc). The alternative for drug testing of the day was faeces testing to confirm athletes hadn’t broken their fasting rules!  Another rule was that there were to be no wars for 3 months before the Games. A heavy price was paid if not complied with – city would be banned from the Games forever.

Leaving the Peloponnese we headed for the earth’s bellybutton – Delphi. Considered such by the ancient Greeks based on what they knew geographically to exist at the time. To get there we drive through Greece’s largest olive grove – 1.2 million trees in the grove.

Before reaching the Apollo sanctuary we visited the shrine of Athena Pronea. A place for Goddess Athena to protect her half brother Apollo. Said to have been achieved when a well timed earthquake prevented the Persians from reaching the area.

The large site further up the hill containing the Sanctuary of Apollo dates back to 1600 – 1100 BC but the buildings standing today are mainly from around 6th century BC. It was at this site that the Oracle was sought out to predict or read the future. The prophecies were communicated through the priestesses who would be in a trance-like state as a consequence of the natural gas (presence of Mother Earth – Gaia) leaking from within the temple. The prophecies were said to be read though the clouds, water, wind, flames or other such mediums.

The site included the place occupied by nine goddesses (called muses) who received the art presented to the god Apollo…museum!

The Treasury of Athens was reconstructed to celebrate the victory of the Battle of  Marathon against the Persians in 490 BC (the one where the barefoot and naked soldier ran non-stop to announce the victory to the king and then dropped dead!).

The site contained a wall that was more than 2 600 years old – surviving numerous earthquakes as a result of its ingenious design of interlocking rocks.

We left this important historical site with the message of Apollo that the most important thing in life was ‘To know thyself’. Nothing much has changed there!

Last day of the tour directed us away from the ancient Greeks towards the monastic communities of Meteora.

Monastic communities had been established in the north of Greece more than 2 000 years ago. The communities we were visiting had existed in some form or another for about 700 years. There were only six of the 24 of Meteora monasteries  left operating and two operated as convents.

They were nothing short of spectacular perched on top of the 400m high rock pinnacles. It was hard to believe they were accessed by removable ladders or windlass (pulley system) until the 1920s when stairs were cut into the stones. Just a few challenging safety issues presented during construction and use!  Might explain why they only had about ten monks/nuns in each monastery/convent!

The churches were brightly decorated internally with religious frescoes depicting the rather gruesome tales of the saints  

It had been quite a packed four days and I’d thoroughly enjoyed it. The tour group was larger than I generally preferred to travel with but it had been a good mix of nationalities. South Australian farmers Lisa and Neil and Dan and Claudette from Canada had been particularly lovely travel companions.  The other added bonus was that I’d had my grandfather travelling with me as I recalled all the Greek mythology he’d shared with us as kids. 

The ultimate dedication to Athena, the Acropolis! There was a strike scheduled for the day of our departure to Amorgos Island so our wonderful yogi, Craig, had arranged for us to leave a day early to avoid it. So I decided to visit the 4 000 year old site before heading to the port for our island break.

Having been first inhabited 4 000 – 3 000 BC in Mycenaean times, it’s fair to say a very important ancient site in the western ancient world. I got goose bumps walking through the site and listening to the stories from my guide.

At the time of its construction it took 13 years to build the Parthenon and 37 years the complete set of temples.  A respectable result from a city of only 160 000 inhabitants.

Now onto Amorgos Island…

The Corinth Canal – completed 1893 but not too useful today at only 21m wide

The acropolis of Mycenae – 1350 BC

The lion gate – mentioned in Homer’s Iliad

Necropolis of ‘Golden Mycenae’ (14kgs of gold found in masks and other items)

Tomb of last royal dynasty of Mycenaens – Agamemnon’s family

The ceiling capstone that holds it all together

Theatre of Epidaurus – holds 14 000 people – still used today for performances

One of the three Nafplio Venetian forts

…another

…and the other

Olympia – home of the first games

Some students capturing the Olympic spirit

Smooth part of column used by wrestlers to rub off the sand stuck to their oiled up bodies

Stadium entry

Challenging Jackson on the sprint start line

The spot where the torch is lit for the games every 4 years

Temple of Zeus – the Olympic God

Just do it!

Olive oil tasting…and maybe a little red!

The vast olive grove out to the sea

Pretty Village if Delphi

The Shrine of Athena Pronea

Delphi – home of the Oracle

The Treasury of Athens

The stadium at the very top of the site – had obviously escaped the wrath of former invaders

Ingenious construction resulting in this wall standing 2 500 years despite numerous earthquakes

Approaching Meteora

One of the six monastic communities still operating in the Meteora

The 700 year old Holy Monastery of the Great Meteoro – The Transfiguration of Our Saviour

Landing spot for the windlass (basket pulled up the side of the mountain to give  monks access

The monks clearly liked their vino!

The kitchen

Holy Monastery of St Stephen (Convent – 400 years old)

The Acropolis

Theatre of Dionysus

Temple of Nike

Missed Florence and the Machine at the Herodion last night!

The gate to the Acropolis

The Parthenon

Temple of Athena

Admiring the beautiful yachts in Piraeus Marina

Farewell Athens – it’s Island time!

The flight out of Saint Petersburg was delayed so I was a little concerned I’d miss my Riga (Latvia) connection to Malta. The flight attendant assured me the very small airport would allow a successful 15 minute transit given I already had a boarding pass. Possibly would have if we hadn’t been locked in the flight gangway for 5 minutes before a security guard finally woke up to it and let us out. Of course this also had to be the only airport in the world where security searches all cabin baggage to ensure prohibited liquids are not being carried. Needless to say the gate was well and truly closed when I arrived to it panting from my running through the supposedly ‘small’ airport.

A four hour sleep at a local hotel and I was back at the airport for my 6am flight. There were no direct flights available so I was going through Frankfurt. I was relieved when our flight left on time. I’d lost half a day so when I arrived at my accommodation mid afternoon I simply dropped my bags and headed off to visit the fortress capital city Valletta.

My grandfather had talked of the brave Knights of St John piquing my interest in Malta at a young age, which intensified after my friends Karen and Michael visited his family back when we were in our 20s. It was the Micallefs who’d introduced me to the Pastizzi and I thought of them fondly when I bit into my first one on Malta!

Valletta had been established by the Knights; a religious group of noblemen from all over Europe. The bastions surrounding the city were very impressive and looked pretty impenetrable.

St John’s Co-Cathedral (sharing Cathedral status with that of St Paul’s in Mdina (Malta’s earlier capital)) was a beautiful baroque style and houses a couple of Caravaggio paintings, the largest and most famous being The Beheading of Saint John the Baptist. The floor is laid with a patchwork of marble tomb slabs (I believe those of some of the knights).

The Grand Master of the Knights of St John had his own residence, which is preserved to illustrate the opulence of the former state rooms (still used on occasion by the president for meetings with heads of state) and the former stables are used to present the armoury collection. The Knights are famous for about 350 of them fending off a sustained attack by an incredibly large Turkish contingency in mid 1500s. The course of history would have been so very different had the Europeans lost control of this important location to the Ottoman Empire. Hence promised but delayed reinforcements were finally sent in the nick of time.

I’d just made the opening times of these key sights so the pressure was off for the rest of the evening. The city was one of the first master planned cities of Europe so it was quite lovely to wander around the shaded streets, visiting the lower Barrakka gardens and then the upper to catch the cliff top lift 58m down to sea level for a ferry across to the three cities – il-Birgu (now called Vittoriosa – former home of the Knights), Bormla (now Cospicua) and l-Isla (now Senglea).

I couldn’t get enough of the lovely balconies of Malta. I even had a couple in conversation across the road from each other oblige me for a photograph.

Night was starting to fall so I was getting to enjoy the subtly lit sandstone buildings as I made my way back to my accommodation in Msida. I needed rest for my adventure to Blue Lagoon the next day!

The bus trip to the boat was great – following the coast line for views of all the coastal towns abuzz with tourists (there certainly seemed to be more tourists and expats in Malta than Maltese). The ‘beach areas’ were about as big as a postage stamp compared to ours!

Blue Lagoon (at Comino Island) was just stunning. It was famed for being part of the film location for the likes of The Count of Monte Christo.

I took the option of the speedboat caves tour, which was a bit of fun and then went off to Gozo for a tour for a couple of hours where the highlight was the Il-Kastell (Cittadella) – a well preserved fortress with lovely views across the island. All of the inhabitants of the island had sheltered there during the siege by the Turks in the mid 1500s. I took the opportunity to enjoy my last dinner in Malta overlooking the lovely Valletta.

With a mid afternoon flight I had just a few hours left on my last day to see a bit more of Malta so I jumped on a bus to Mdina, fortified about 1000BC. The current name hails from the occupation of the Arabs (evident everywhere across the main island).  It was lovely and quiet before all of the tourists arrived.

Mdina sat beside Rabat in which the St Paul’s Catacombs were located.  Who doesn’t love to check out underground burial sites?  They were impressive – said to cover more than 2000 square metres. They were created in the third century AD and used for about 500 years. Some were clearly for individuals, some for groups (babies and small children were believed to be buried together) and some were for the pots containing the ashes of cremated persons (those who couldn’t afford body burial). Apparently there was evidence that it was the burial site of multi religious denominations (with the denominations generally buried together) suggesting a very multicultural and peaceful society of the times. The catacombs had also been used as shelters for inhabitants during the world wars.

The Second World War has been particularly hard for Malta. It had received more sustained bombings than any other country of the commonwealth. For its valour Malta was awarded the George Cross; never before and never again has this honour been bestowed upon a whole county.

Well, I’d found my knights as I’d hoped, sadly just a little too late to bring one home with me!  Perhaps I’d find myself a Greek god on the next leg…

Approaching Valletta

St John’s Co-cathedral

Marble tomb slabs – the knights?!?!

Caravaggio’s The Beheading of John the Baptist

State rooms of the Grand Master’s Palace

The Armoury

The lovely Maltese balconies

Lower Barrakka Gardens

A joke surely??

Views from the bastion walls at the Upper Barrakka Gardens

Vittoriosa

Corpsicua

Vittoriosa

Senglea

Off to the Blue Lagoon

Ducking in the caves

Blue Lagoon

Gozo Island, Cittadella

Stunning view to enjoy over dinner

Entry gate of Mdina

St Paul’s Catacombs

A bit of a tight squeeze

View back to Mdina

Farewell lovely Msida

Catching the sleeper train to Saint Petersburg seemed like a no brainer. Maximise daylight sightseeing hours while at the time absorbing accommodation cost in the train ticket!  What I had forgotten about sleeper trains is that they are noisy with the grinding from stopping and starting and people chatting loudly in front of your cabin door, jerky, vibrate to your bones, serve terrible food and have hard beds. Would I do it again…probably – being the stingy traveller that I am.

I’d been warned by my airbnb host that a taxi would cost about five times more than a Yandex (Uber competitor) from the train station but could I get the app to work!?!?  It seemed stuck on Moscow. Eventually a ticket officer accompanied me to the pick up area, ordered one and sent me on my way.

I arrived at the accommodation at 8am  and was due to meet my tour guide out front of the Hermitage at 10am.

After chatting with my host’s aunt (in a weird twist the artist owner was in Australia for a wedding) I got myself sorted and ventured off with the goal to find a clear pick up spot from which to order my Yandex. Yandex problems again!  I was cutting it fine for time as we had boat seats booked so I started to get a little worried. This time I attempted to get assistance from a delivery driver waiting for an order at a shop window. He had no English and while he tried his best to understand he gave up and signalled for me to wait five minutes. Next thing I was in his (Vadim’s) delivery truck on route to the square. He sweetly tried to point out some key sights on route which of course I just smiled and nodded in appreciation. He refused to take any cash, putting it back in my pocket as I exited. Russians initially show little expression on their faces but I had worked out that behind that they were very friendly.

Saint Petersburg was eight degrees colder than it was when I checked the week of my departure!  I certainly had not packed for eight degrees; the rain wasn’t helping.

I met my guide Maria at Alexander Column, reportedly the largest single piece of stone in the world (standing just short of 50m), which is held upright by gravity alone, and we quickly headed down to the Neva River to catch our hydrofoil to Peterhof Palace.

Scooting across the Gulf of Finland was the quickest route to the Palace. The palace had been pretty much re-built after the damage caused by the Germans in WWII. The interior of the Tsars’ Palace was beautiful but it was the some 140 gravity fed fountains that were truly lovely. The most splendorous reflecting Peter the Great’s victory over the Swedes in early 1700s with him pulling apart the jaws of a lion (the Swedes). The Russian art was full of allegories – each with a clearly intended story.

Back in St Petersburg we wandered under the triumphal arch and down Nevsky Prospect passing the high fashion houses and their branded Porsches out the front. While I wasn’t tempted to poke my head into them for a look (I couldn’t quite pull off the whole pretty woman manoeuvre) I couldn’t resist a russian donut!  Yum!

I learnt along the way to the Kazan Cathedral (modelled partly on Rome’s St Peters) that while stone was the prominent building product of St Petersburg buildings it was being ravaged by humidity (was hard to believe when it was so cold). I also learnt that St Petersburg was made up of some 40 odd islands, which has led to more than 340 bridges! City of stone, City of islands, City of bridges???

St Petersburg has its colourful Russian orthodox onion domes in the form of the Savior on Spilled Blood. The church had been built on the spot that Tsar Alexander II had been fatally wounded by protestors in the late 1800s. It was full of beautiful mosaic pieces and of course a place marking the spot where Alexander’s blood had spilt.

A moment to rest our feet as we travelled by metro to the Peter and Paul Fortress. These were without a doubt the deepest metros I had been in – the escalators travelling for more than two minutes.  Might not sound a lot but think about that next time you’re on one and you’ll realise what I’m talking about.

The fortress was not ever used as a fortress but certainly looked the part. The cathedral within the fortress walls now holds the remains of the last Tsar and his family of Romanovs (although two of the family members are yet to be laid to rest here).

It was here that I farewelled Maria to go on to visit the Hermitage. Thankfully it was open until 9pm on Fridays so I had a couple of hours to take in the amazing collection. The Hermitage is in the beautiful Winter Palace and has essentially only ever served as an art gallery (except during wars of course when the art was shipped off to be preserved). It would be impossible to see even the fraction of the three million pieces held but I certainly got to appreciate some beauties in my two hours. The Rembrandts always a favourite and I enjoyed the Russian renaissance paintings as well  

I was so tired on exiting that I absentmindedly found myself in a restaurant ordering mulled wine with my dinner. It was delightful – served infused in dried fruit. Perfect to send me on my way home.

Having seen nearly all of the key sights on day one I decided I had the luxury of time to visit Tsarskoe Selo (the Tsar’s Village) to see the Catherine Palace. Thankfully Maria had managed to fix my Yandex location so I was on the go again.

My Yandex driver seemed a little more lost than I was, which was a worry, and then he attempted to drive into a one way street to be confronted by a police officer on the corner. We pulled over at the officer’s request and the driver first put his seat belt on and then produced numerous dockets followed by a few notes from his wallet and then we were on our way again.

Peter the Great had presented the Palace to his wife Catherine I before their marriage but it wasn’t until the mid 1750s that it became the elaborate Palace as seen today when their daughter Empress Elizabeth Petrova engaged Italian architect Bartolomeo Francesco Rastrelli to rebuild it as her summer residence.

As expected the interior of the Palace was beautiful but it was the Amber Room that was the particular drawcard for this palace. It was like nothing I’d seen before. All of the walls of the room were faced with Amber stone with decorations in the form of reliefs and illustrations – quite surreal. Another post war reconstruction but given the throngs of tourists I imagined it had paid off quickly. Amber is considered lucky by the Chinese so you can imagine their ogling eyes when in the room, with a few trying to sneak photos only to be sternly cautioned by palace staff about potential ejection from the Palace.

It was so cold I decided to head home after the palace visit but once back in Saint Petersburg I got distracted by the steady stream of people coming from a nearby street blocked off for road work. I decided to explore the source and to my delight found what’s called the New Holland precinct. Within a park was a circular building with a round central open courtyard surrounded by bars/cafes on the lowest level and shops of Russian designers on the two above.

I found a bar that was clad with dark brick walls and dim lighting and settled in at a bar table for a beer or two. Not long after sitting a woman seated beside me offered me some of her salted cucumber. Having seen that I enjoyed it she then offered me a fork with some of the dried fish from her plate. It was tasty too.

Through google translate I discovered her name was Nina and she was a Russian nurse holidaying in Saint Petersburg for a few days. She google translated that Russians don’t like to drink alone (explaining her offer of the food). The menu was in Russian so I asked her to point out the dishes she had ordered and the red drink (turned out to be a vodka tincture of beetroot and horseradish). Delish!  The vodka drinking began…  I had been contemplating a visit to the ballet that night but this turned out to be a great way to spend my last night in Russia.

I woke late on my final day …with a bit of a fuzzy head…with the goal of visiting St Isaacs Cathedral and getting a souvenir of Russia. I succeeded in both but it was a real challenge given the weather. It was now six degrees and the misted rain was blowing sideways strongly in all directions. Despite this I took the option to venture up to the colonnade for the lovely view out over Saint Petersburg. It was worth the effort and getting wet – a final look at this lovely city.

The inside of the Cathedral was quite incredible. It had taken 40 years to build the Cathedral, which the previously unknown French architect Montferrand got to see completed a month before his death. The cathedral (which served more as a museum than church) had lovely little kiosks inside where I picked up a lovely amber necklace as a momento of my visit.

I decided to enjoy some more local food for my final meal in Russia, this time I focused on Armenian. It was so lovely and cosy I was reluctant to leave but alas I had a flight to catch.

I farewelled my hat of over 28 years. It had been a saviour in this cold weather. It was nice to think it had started life at the Sydney Paddington markets and would finish life on the other side of the world.

Saint Petersburg had been a lovely city to visit with its opulent architecture and rich imperial history. Certainly a great contrast to Moscow.  It was surprising I’d only met one other Australia – he was from the Hunter Valley and had been living in Russia for five years and now worked in a Saint Petersburg souvenir shop.

I felt a great warmth for the Russians given all of my experiences during the trip…memories that would last a long time. I was now on to find myself a knight…

Vladim, the delivery driver who got me to my guide!

Peterhof Palace 

A little bed for the Tsar

Alexander Column – world’s largest column of stone. Freestanding on its own weight. 

The beautiful Winter Palace – home of The Hermitage art collection

A former merchant’s home

Testing out the ponchinki- russian donuts!

Kazan Cathedral

The art nouveau Zinger building

Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood

Captivating mosaics

The site when Tsar Alexander II was fatally wounded. 

Peter and Paul Fortress 

Homage to Peter the Great. A mould of his face but a grotesque body intended to emphasise his greatness. 

Cathedral of Tsars

Romanov family tombs – family of the last Tsar of Moscow

Catherine Palace

Pushkin church

Entering the New Holland district 

Perfecting vodka drinking

My partner in crime ..Nina the nurse

A little beetroot and horseradish tincture of vodka!

No chance on my own!

Cherry brandy – delicious!

St Isaacs Cathedral

From the Colonnade

A model of the scaffolding system used to lift the columns 

Last feast at Dolma, Armenian restaurant 

Just in case you forget!

Couldn’t leave without trying the caviar!  Sophisticated airport food!

I always feel a great sense of reward when I manage to navigate public transport in foreign countries. …or perhaps I’m confusing reward with relief!  Travelling solo is extremely liberating but I know my anxiety is much reduced when I have a fellow traveller (or any random English speaking person) with whom to confirm conclusions. Despite all of this I’ve always managed to arrive at the intended destination at the planned time.

This time it was Vladimir – which after being corrected a couple of hundred times I now know to pronounce as Vlad-i-meerr!

I’d arrived here to experience the Russian orthodox towns on the famed Golden Ring. After finding my accommodation I was back on public transport – this time the bus on my way to Suzdal about an hour from Vladimir. After a bit of prompting with hand gestures from my fellow bus buddies I managed to avoid the 2km walk into town by staying on the bus a little longer. It seemed the further you got from the major cities the less English was spoken, even by the young, but the people were as friendly as others.

Suzdal had been bypassed by the Trans-Siberian rail line in 1894 and in doing so time had stood still. It was full of cute little wooden houses, some colourful and some with interesting carvings. It was also full of wonderful old historical buildings.

My first stop was the Savior Monastery of St Euthymius. It had been established in the 14th century as more of a protectorate of the town’s north from invaders. It included an interesting prison that had held religious dissidents. The monastery had also been used by the bolsheviks as a concentration camp after the tzars had been unseated in the 1917 revolution and it had then been used to keep German and Italian officers during WWII. The exhibition halls were full of ornaments – religious and agricultural – unfortunately no English translations.

The trading arcades are still being used for that purpose although the fruits and veggies have been replaced with souvenir stalls!

The Suzdal Kremlin is the grandfather of Moscow’s Kremlin having been built in the 12th century by the then ruling prince who later established Moscow as an outpost!  The Kremlin housed the lovely Nativity of the Virgin Cathedral, which was adorned with lovely blue domes with gold stars and an interior rich in frescoes.

Across the picturesque river was the Museum of Wooden Architecture and Peasant Life. The buildings are from the 1700s and gave you the feeling you were in an Amish community. It was very quaint and I was feeling quite privileged to own a bed with a latex mattress!

On arriving back to Vladimir I found lots of people out enjoying the very comfortable weather so I got amongst it by trying the Russian drink kvass, which is made from rye bread. It was like a sweet porter beer (and from what I understood I had tried the non-sweet variety) – not for me I’m afraid.

My last day in Vladimir was spent visiting the very grand Assumption Cathedral, which sits on a bluff giving great views, the water tower, the Vladimir Golden Gate (part fort part triumphal arch) and the Cathedral of St Dmitry. What St Dmitry lacked in size it made up with its ornate stone carvings on the exterior walls. It had been built in late 1100 and believed to never have been matched by other Russian stone carvers.

The little side trip had been very worthwhile…although my feet and legs were screaming at me with all the walking. They’d now get a rest as I prepared to board a sleeper train for Saint Petersburg…

Inside the Savior Monastery of St Euthymius

The monastery prison 

The somewhat deserted Monastery of the Deposition of the Holy Robe

The trading arcades overlooking the river and meadows

Nativity of the Virgin Cathedral in the Kremlin

Inside the walls of the Suzdal Kremlin

The Museum of  Wooden Architecture and Peasant Life

More swinging…

The Assumption Cathedral, Vladimir

The Vladimir Water Tank

Vladimir Golden Gate

Cathedral of St Dmitry

I managed to get the airport train, and metro with two changes to arrive at my accommodation only to discover I didn’t have my wallet; just a minor issue!  All I could think was that when I was flustered trying to communicate with the ‘english speaking’ metro ticket officer I must have left it on the bench. So, back I went retracing my steps only to have the ‘English speaking’ ticket officer not understand me again and try and sell me another ticket …  I’d kept my calm to that point but with a lack of sleep I felt myself start to waiver.

Thankfully, a young Pakistani international student came to my rescue, took me to the police and explained my situation. They looked at me blankly and then a metro worker came over and when the student explained he mumbled something, threw his hands in the air and walked off. That was it, I was convinced I’d just lost $500 cash and was in for a world of hurt cancelling and getting new travel and credit cards.

Then the student turns to me and says “I think they have your wallet, we are to wait”. The worker returns and the student translates a description of the wallet. The worker then hands it to me and proudly indicates to check it. I do and every bit is there!  I give my first kisses in Russia and make their day with a generous reward. Couldn’t believe I’d been so careless and so lucky within a couple of hours of each other. I knew from that point I was going to love the Russians!

A new day…must say I felt a little out of place without rollers in my hair while using the hostel kitchen!  I’d noticed while strolling last night how smartly the Moscovites dressed. I’d arrived on City Day – Moscow’s weekend of celebrating its birthday and thought it was just the formality of the events but obviously not!

I ventured out mid morning to find the streets reasonably empty. I was surprised given the weekend celebrations. Then I realised the bridge was closed and then a motorcade with a black limo zoomed into the Kremlin. Mr Putin is in the house.

I wandered along part of the Kremlin fortress wall through the lovely Alexander Garden passing the shrine of the unknown soldier and into the Red Square where there were thousands of tourists!

The buildings in Moscow are very grand and none more so than here. The GUM department store was beautiful, housing all the high fashion labels. Thankfully, no tolerance for carrying a new handbag yet!

I had my eye on the wonderfully colourful Cathedral of St Vasily the Blessed (St Basil’s Cathedral). It was lovely inside and out. The mixed colourful onion domes dominating the exterior and the interior full of Icon paintings surrounded by lovely folk art adorned walls. Just lovely.

I made my way toward the river where I came across the very modern Zaryadye Park, which showcases the four climates of Russia.  Being a bit of a cold frog I passed on the ice cave!

The boats were luring me next so I jumped on for a couple of hours round trip. We travelled along Gorky Park, which is like Southbank on steroids and turned just after the gondolas that take people from the stadium to the other side.

The Moscow metro carries 7 million people a day and is the size of New York and Paris metros combined…in other words it is huge!  It is also known for its beautiful stations so, not scared off by my earlier metro experience, I ventured off with my list of the best stations to visit. From bronze statues lining each column to stained glass window columns and ornate mosaic pieces on the ceiling.  A fantastic way to spend a couple of hours for five dollars!

Jet lag was still affecting me but it works well to be up exercising before fellow guests are occupying the spaces. Fed and watered it was off to the Kremlin.

The four main features of the Kremlin that can be visited are the Armoury, the Cathedral Architectural Square, the Ivan the Great Belltower and the Diamond Fund. I was up for all.

The Armoury was amazing with its incredible display of gold and silverware, armour (even the horses’ stirrups were bejeweled), carriages, thrones and the amazing gowns of former priests and royalty. It was spectacular.

The Cathedral Square didn’t disappoint either – the interiors of the Cathedrals (rearing place for numerous czars and other dignitaries) were like nothing I’d seen in the world yet. They were stunning. The climb up the Ivan the Great Bell tower was worth it for the fantastic view of the square.

Finally I got to ogle at the diamonds in the Diamond Fund. You were essentially ushered into a safe – it was just amazing.

With the Kremlin done I decided to wander up to the Bolshoi Theatre and the Metropole Hotel. En-route I was approached by a couple of dapper looking older gentlemen who introduced themselves and asked if I’d like to join them for a drink or a coffee.  While I was impressed by the qualifying their linen suits I politely declined.

My feet and legs were killing me from all the walking. My room mate, Angela from The Netherlands, was feeling the same so we ventured off to a nearby local cuisine restaurant that’s part of a chain. It was a bit of a laugh being adorned with the oversized costume headwear and quite a surprise to see what we would be served. Thankfully my herring salad prices a winner!

Last day to just wander. The Cathedral of Christ the Savior was around the corner from my accommodation so I started there. As the main Cathedral of Moscow it was even more impressive than those in the Kremlin. I took the roof terraces option for a birds eye view of Moscow. It had a lift up to the offices located st the very top of the Cathedral but of course they opted to make visitors walk.

Next I got to the queue in Red Square for a viewing of Lenin in the Mausoleum only to be told the person in front of me was the last who’d be allowed in for the day. I’d tried to get there twice before to find it closed so obviously wasn’t meant to visit!

By now I was feeling a little hungry so jumped on the metro to visit a recommended restaurant in the well heeled district of the Patriarch Ponds (noting there’s actually only one pond!). My first borscht experience and it didn’t disappoint.

I spent the early evening sitting by the river in a lovely park watching the locals walking and thinking about how different Moscow had been to my imagination. There are few remnants of communist Russia here instead there’s a real air of wealth and affluence from what seems, at least on the surface, a prospering capitalist society.

My hood for a few days

Red Square (red meaning beauty)

The grand GUM department store

I couldn’t work out the significance of the watermelon and bread loaves!

St Basil’s Cathedral

A Kremlin gate

Interior of St Basil’s

Zaryadye Park

River cruising

Back in Red Square

The beautiful metro stations

Kremlin Ivan the Great Bell Tower complex

The biggest bell in the world but never rung

Assumption Cathedral

Annunciation Cathedral

Dressing the part at a traditional restaurant…channeling Frida!

Cathedral of Christ the Savior

Peter the Great statue

Tomb of the unknown soldier

The Bolshoi Theatre – closed for performances at the moment – lucky I caught the ballet in Brisbane!

The lovely old Metropole Hotel

Borscht at Mari Vanna

Patriach Ponds

Swingers in the city!

Arriving into Marrakech, the red city (so named for the Medina’s pink walls) was quite an experience. Our driver was having a little trouble finding the right spot but came through, dropping us in a car park and pointing. Thankfully we had the maps app to assist us to navigate our way to our hotel without the need for one of the hundred locals offering their services to show us the way. 

Arriving at BE Rhiad was like arriving into an oasis. The place was stunning with its two pools, beautifully tiled interior, lovely furnishings and rooftop terrace. As nice as it was it didn’t take us long to get settled, quizz Mehdi for the key sights and embark on the souqs. 

Before going too far we decided we needed food to sustain us for our shopping so settled into Cafe Arabe – one of the stylish bar/cafe/restaurants of the old city. We then shopped and shopped wondering if we’d ever find our way home from the maze we’d entered. We all gasped as Leigh proceeded to help with an “eeniminiminiemo” rendition but thankfully all ended well!

We’d planned a tour the next day but I’d been sick all night so the girls graciously agreed to delay it a day. We stuck reasonably close to home and shopped.

We had lunch/dinner at the hip Nomad, just off the main square, Jemaa el-Fnaa. Nomad had a really lovely vibe but unfortunately it’s pretension came with pretty poor service and average food but was still good to experience being on the rooftop near the square. Leigh finally gave up on the shopping – not surprisingly; she’d been an awesome passive shopper!

Tan and I continued on….like I could ever get bored of shopping?!?!  Turned out Tan had my shopping stamina!

The initial focus was on shoes for Tan. One of the guys must have noticed I was a bit of a passenger on this one and said “no problem I have big ones”. I replied “what, to match my mouth?” But he didn’t quite get it. 

Next stop carpets. It wasn’t intentional; I’d gone in to look at their leather ottomans only for us to find ourselves surrounded by beautiful rugs. After a bit of hard bargaining we each walked out with a small hall runner. Tick!

The next morning we had our tour with Yussef. He showed us a pit area that doubles as the fire to heat the adjoining hammam and an oven to cook up the offel so loved by the Moroccans. There was certainly little wastage in this culture. 

Next stop was the secret garden – a riad with two beautiful gardens (an exotic and an Islamic) fed by an ancient underground hydraulic system. The water is a real focus  because of the significance that water plays in the Islamic faith, evidenced by the ablution rituals. 

The garden had fallen into ruin in the 1930s after a relative of the chamberlain of the sultan started to divide it up. Thankfully some Moroccan entrepreneurs had recognised its value and so had gone through the process of buying back the parcels of land to restore it back to its former glory and magnificent it was today. 

We then ventured into the square which was bustling with sellers, monkey tamers and snake charmers. We glimpsed a guy having a snake put around his neck because he wasn’t prepared to pay for the photo he’d just taken of it. Those who know me will appreciate that I was staying well away from that action!

Once yussef realised the serious phobias in the group he made sure we skirted that area of the square ensuring no unexpected encounters. 

El Baldi Palais (the Baldi Palace) was next on the agenda with its ruins giving some impression of the former structure with its sunken gardens and pools. It was said to once be embellished with precious metals and stones, which were later looted by invading forces. 

The Palais Bahia was quite a contrast; beautiful (which it’s name reflects) with elaborate parquetry panelling, wood carving, tiles and painting. The gardens were also lovely. We only saw the front of the eight hectare property and what we saw was really impressive. 

Yussef offered to take us to the ‘only place he would recommend for genuine Argan oil’ and assured us he would give us back the discount that he would otherwise get in commission. As it turned out, we got the oil …he got the commission!

After a bit more shopping we were done and ready to hit the town. Tan, Leigh and I took up the option of going into the new city to check out the nightlife. Karen was keen to just hang and enjoy the Riad. Destination Arkech rooftop bar!  What a hoot we had. We started on the rooftop bar with our own table fire, some tapas and local beers and wines. Leigh was so distraught by our neighbouring table not eating their meal that as they left she couldn’t help herself from muttering  (rather loudly) “could we have your burger?”. Hilarious. 

The waiter from the bar below kept coming and asking if we’d like to go downstairs to enjoy the live music. All obviously trying to get enough patronage to secure their employment. Feeling the pressure we ventured downstairs. I got up for a little Colombian salsa while Tan entertained Anass (the Moroccan model who’d come home from Paris to look after his sister after his mother’s death 2 years ago…he certainly had the looks for it but we were a little dubious of the tale). We drank cocktails and we went off to Best of You by the Foo Fighters thanks to a bit of requesting by Leigh. They’d obviously never seen anything quite like it as even the chef came out when he could hear all the clapping. We were just lucky the bar was empty or it could have been a tad embarrassing!  

With Tan’s suggestion of a third cocktail we knew it was time to go!

The next day we were having another treat in a Moroccan spa. This time Tan, Leigh and I had opted for a 2 hr package and Karen for a massage. The Hammam was a completely different experience to what we’d had in Chefchaouen. For one, our scrubber was fully clothed even if we weren’t and secondly the Hammam was set up so that we were washed with the running water from the trough. It was pretty hot and a little disconcerting when we tried to open the door only to find we’d been locked in. Luckily after only a few knocks our scrubber appeared with some cold waters for us.  The whole package was divine. Tan and I shared a room for the massage and it was pretty funny to hear my tummy gurgling at the same time as Tan’s snoring!

We headed back to the riad with plans for Tan and I to visit the Marjorelle gardens and the Yves-Saint-Laurent museum. On the way out we encountered a guy with animal heads on the front of his bicycle. He obviously picked up my confused face and so turned around and muttered an “oink oink”. We didn’t think pigs were on the menu for Muslims but maybe we were wrong. 

Both the gardens and the museum were a lovely visit despite the intermittent downpours of rain. YSL had spent a lot of time designing and living in Marrakech and it was evident in the designs. Might have inspired my later leather purchases in the neighboring streets!

We got a recommendation to visit Dar Marjana, just a little down from us and the food proved to be delicious; although giving me two cones of ice cream when I asked for two scoops of ice cream left me feeling a little glutinous!

There were still a few things on my shopping hit list so Tan generously agreed to accompany me for a late whirlwind tour of the closing shops. The main square was absolutely buzzing; it had such a good vibe. We were intrigued when we saw a few cooked goats heads and then got invited to sit for a feed of tongue, breasts and brain..ahh, no thanks!

Our morning of departure was a bit of a shamozzle. We’d woken early enough for our bootcamp but hadn’t anticipated that the government had decided in the preceding days to keep daylight saving through winter. Was a little rushed for everyone to get their stuff packed when our driver came a knocking!  Nonetheless we pulled it together and were on our way to Casablanca only 15 minutes behind schedule. 

Our lovely Casablanca Airbnb host, Myriam, checked us in and gave us some tips for dinner and then we were off again. We went via the mosque but unfortunately the tours were finished for the day. Next stop Ric’s Cafe (Casablanca was filmed entirely in the US but this cafe was reputed to replicate the famous bar in the film) it we were too early for it. Turns out we wouldn’t have got in anyway with the advertised dress code prohibiting sports shoes! 

While we stood on the steps of Rick’s we were showered with a hail storm – we’d seen it all this holiday!

We missed the Medina and instead headed for Myriam’s recommended restaurant with water views. It was a little further than anticipated and while we got a little wet and windswept along the way we managed to miss the cyclonic weather that hit a couple of minutes after we walked through the doors of La Cabestan. 

The view were lovely – think Icebergs!  Unfortunately the service didn’t match Icebergs. Turned out it was the haunt of the wealthy gulf Arabs – they obviously have lower expectations despite their Cayenne car choices. Nonetheless we enjoyed a meal and our Casablancas in Casablanca before negotiating for a 3 seater taxi to take the four of us back home!

Up early for our last bootcamp…I really will not miss the pushups!   

I was keen to see the inside of the world’s third largest mosque (Hassan II – built to commentate the former King’s 60th birthday) and so took a taxi to the mosque for the first tour of the day. It was one impressive building. The mezzanine with its ornate carved balustrade was for the women and there were glass tiles embedded into the floor to allow glimpses of the ablutions below.  The interior of the mosque can accommodate 20 000 people and is embellished with Moroccan marble and wood while the chandeliers are from Murano, Venice. 

I was keen to get back to the apartment as quickly as possible given our airport transfer was arriving at 11am. I started to get a little worried when at the end of a one way street we encountered a rubbish truck bin that had spilled its contents onto our road but in traditional Moroccan style a number of people just lifted the bin to allow my taxi driver to drive over the rubbish they were trying to collect. Classic!

All went well with the transfer to Casablanca airport and so we were on our way home. 

What a trip!  We had laughed together, shopped together, screamed together, danced together but best of all together we had gained an appreciation of a culture so different to ours. I had certainly had a hoot and had a feeling I might be traveling with these girls again sometime into the future. 

My final note, as they say in the souqs, “You’re welcome, thankyou”.

Home – BE Marrakech

Nomad…minutes before the rain hit

Home – on the roof terrace

Doubling the uses of the Hammam

The secret garden

El Baldi Palais

The prison cells

Palais Bahia

Terrific personal protective wear

Rollerblader doing some impressive manoeuvres throughout the traffic 

Bliss in the day spa

Mroccan bruschetta???

Tough decision – they were all so beautiful!

Marjorelle garden

Two scoops in a cone…

Jamaa El-fnaa

Hassan II mosque – visible from most of the city

La Cabestan

We were unable to resist a Casablanca in Casablanca!

Main prayer hall of the mosque

The women’s mezzanine level

Glass floor inserts allowing sight to ablutions below

The ablutions hall

Farewelling our brief stay in Casablanca

We did it!

This was it – the day we were to face Tizi Tichka!  When planning this section of our trip we had contemplated the options of either hiring a car and driving ourselves or hiring a car and driver. We had ended up with the latter because we’d been scared off by what we’d read about Tizi Tichka – the pass through the High Atlas Mountains that had claimed many a lives. So to prepare ourselves we asked Abdul to let us know when we were starting on the pass. We also sat strategically to minimise distress to those of us with a fear of heights. 

The road was certainly full of plenty of hairpins and reached about 2 200m but it was well paved with good edge protection so not nearly as perilous as some travellers had made out. We had a few stops along the way as dozers perched about 100m about us scraped the side of the mountain and the graders on our level cleared the road of the fallen rocks for us to pass. 

We passed through some lovely little towns aside running rivers before we reached our destination of Imlil. This lovely little village is a base for serious mountain climbing. We figured we’d been doing boot camp religiously every morning  so wouldn’t be necessary to do anything as crazy as mountain climbing!

We wandered around and then just sat back and enjoyed the views of the snowcapped mountains before taking in yet another tagine (we were pretty much over them by now). I also made the mistake of sharing with the girls that while they were getting money out that day Abdul had asked if I was married and then made the very generous offer for me to stay with him in Morocco.  The girls were shocked that I’d declined and of course went on to totally overuse the humour of the scenario for the duration of the trip. 

From Imlil we started our trek across to Essaouira, skirting Marrakech in the process. 

Along the way we stopped to get a photo of some goats in an Argan tree. They hang out in the trees in the Argan forests chewing the nuts. Given the forests aren’t accessible to the public the entrepreneurial locals had found a way to capitalise on the quirky habit of these goats. Payment of a small tip and we were on our way again.  

We called into an Argan cooperative (they’re run only by women) with the hope of buying some Argan oil. The process of obtaining the oil is all done by hand – cracking and grinding Argan nuts to produce the oil (no surprise it wasn’t an attractive occupation for men). Alas, no purchases again. The labelling of the bottles all looked rather unprofessional and they didn’t display any of the info we’d read should be displayed to confirm it was legitimate Argan oil – none of us felt like paying AUD60 for a bottle of vegetable oil. 

We were dropped off to our lovely apartment in Essaouira where we farewelled Abdul. He thanked us for visiting his country – despite knowing he’d been picking up the usual commissions a guide gets for referrals to shops and restaurants he’d been a great driver – safe and always happy to answer our often bizarre questions. We were ready for our next phase of the adventure. 

Our apartment was right near the port so we headed out in search of chargrilled sardines. When we got to the gate of the old town we noticed there were film lights on elevating work platforms and when we got to the marina we were stopped from entering because filming was occurring. Turned out John Wick 3 was being shot – our hearts skipped a beat at the prospect of meeting Keanu!

Karen wasn’t digging the look of the fish market and isn’t a seafood eater so headed into town for a bite to eat while Tan, Leigh and I selected some sardines, fish, prawns and calamari and the staff dutifully cooked it up for us on the charcoal bbqs. It was all delicious and we marvelled at how far Tan had come since we arrived to now – sitting eating from a place where they were hosing the floor under us as we ate seafood that was sitting out on the street’s walkway by the cats, birds and flies. 

We managed to still be in the Medina when a storm blew in – it was a very wet run home!

The next morning Tan and Leigh ventured off for a flash breakie and Karen went off for a spot of shopping in the Medina. I volunteered to take a taxi to the local supermarket to pick up some supplies for dinner and drinks on our terrace. The taxi ride was hilarious. I managed to hail one down and fix the price. There were two very old Berber women already in the taxi so I assumed they’d be getting out along the way. They kept smiling at me during the ride and as they got out one (with fingers half yellow from Henna) kept blowing me kisses – so sweet. 

I managed to make the supermarket purchases with a few bits thrown in to sample some unknown items; sticking to local wine given the price of imported!  

The day was spent wandering around the very hassle free Medina chatting to lots of  lovely locals, including Karim, a Rastafarian looking dude who recognised our accents and so shared his stories of living in Mackay and Airlie Beach. Turns out he was a yoga instructor – would have been lovely to have a sunset or sunrise practice on the terrace but didn’t think the bikini top would be enough to hold me in for down dog!

The night was spent enjoying the sunset from the terrace, sipping wine and eating tapas all the while impressed that the two ocean boulevard soccer fields remained full until well after midnight. 

Next stop Marrakech…

En-route to the dreaded Tizi Tichka

Karen surveyed the High Atlas for our pass through

Admiring the snowcapped mountains of the High Atlas from our terrace in the lovely village of Imlil

Chose your tea!

A few little obstacles on the way to Essaouira

Goats chilling in an Argan tree

It’s the local stuff for us when Veuve is AUD120 a pop in the supermarket!

The seagulls giving away the location of the trawlers

I was tempted to show them how it’s done but held myself back

These guys love their soccer – they played till after midnight

Enjoying sunset from the terrace