Solo again

Norwiegans in Morocco

The fellowship of travelers established in Essaouira has been broken, and I am back in the swelter of Marrakesh. After nights on the coast cold enough to make one of our number buy a huge woolen sweater, it’s something of a shock to be back here, hiding from the sun.

In retrospect, our caravan looks like an endorsement of liberal ideas about institutions. To begin with, it was strictly functional – information exchange being the main purpose. Then, it allowed coordinated action in terms of resisting touts and then locating and securing accommodation. Then, it grew to involve shared meals and activities. I daresay that, by the end, it had a role in influencing preference formation.

The security role had some value during our last night. The festival was coming to an end, so we all wanted to see a number of acts. In the crowd around one, a choreographed ‘brawl’ broke out after a huddle amongst the participants. I already had everything I owned in zippered pockets with my hands on top of them. Someone nonetheless tried to push my hand aside, unzip my pocket, and grab my camera. Two of the Norwegian girls were forced about ten metres away from the rest of us and one had her leather purse slashed open. All in all, there were no serious losses: just some annoyance for the men and relatively minor molestation for the women.

On a more positive note, we did hear lots of interesting music. I also discovered a little open door in the sea wall that led to a narrow winding stair and eventually a parapet. From there, one had an excellent view of the coastline and fortifications. I also conversed for a while with a group of local musicians who had discovered the spot previously and were using it to smoke.

I now have two full days left in Morocco. I suspect that I will remain in Marrakesh, but an expedition to Cascades d’Ouzoud is possible, provided I can find one at a decent price and at fairly short notice.

Up the beach by night

Electro-Fusion stage

After my contemporaries here headed home for the night, I left them everything but my camera and a few Dirham and walked solidly out of tourist land. I left the city walls and walked about two kilometres up the windswept beach. The whole area was illuminated by massive floodlights. Out there, I found a stage where a versatile group of performers were playing a wide variety of fusion rock – hard to describe, but undeniably excellent. I purchased a CD of highlights from last year’s festival which I will be able to lend to the curious.

Also impressive was the general atmosphere. Well after midnight, there were still unsupervised children and grandparents about. Everyone was there for the festival, and thus took no notice of me. Part of the dynamic is probably the result of the total absence of alcohol. I doubt streets so dominated by groups of young men would be so benign otherwise. The legions of police and army personnel everywhere are probably also a factor, though I have yet to see them do so much as give anyone a warning.

In other news, the food here has been good. It’s a bit on the bland side (salty olives aside), but there are lots of nice places to eat for good prices. I suspect that non-vegetarians get more diverse and flavourful cuisine. There are certainly an abundance of fish for sale all around the harbour.

Given that everyone else went to bed hours ago, I should probably wander back to our rented flat now. I am proud to say that I now fully have my bearings in the walled portions of the town, with a growing collection of knowledge about zones outlying.

PS. The stage I found seems to have been the following:

The Electro-Fusion stage offers to the public an Electro sound, more and more present nowadays. The festival creates on this stage a real spirit of fusion between traditional musicians and DJ of a very high level.

Perhaps I will try to lead the others back there tomorrow night, though with more than a t-shirt to resist the wind this time.

Gnawa Festival day two

Essaouira walls, Morocco

Life in Essaouira continues to go well. I think I will stay tonight and tomorrow night, then return to Marrakesh. From there, I may try to get on a tour to Cascades d’Ouzoud. I would love to go trekking in the High Atlas but have neither the equipment nor the time to make it happen. I return to Oxford on Wednesday and leave for Vancouver the following Monday. I still haven’t packed, sold, or mailed anything.

In any case, the plan for tonight is more general enjoyment of the town. Tomorrow, perhaps, I will try one of the suggested out trips from here, bringing any interested members of the caravan in tow.

PS. I finished the copy of The Interpretation of Murder that Richard Albert gave me. It was an interesting read, though perhaps more explicit than expected.

Essaouira

Essaouira, Morocco

My first day in Marrakesh was not so great, mostly because I did not like the feel of the city. Shifting to Essaouira today was thus an excellent move. The place is packed on account of the Gnawa and World Music Festival. Thankfully, I have joined a kind of caravan of backpackers. Seven us us defied the touts and the crowds and found a decent apartment for rent at the centre of town. Since then, we have been exploring and enjoying the music.

Aside from me, our caravan includes an English couple, three women from Norway – one of whom looks startlingly similar to Edwina – and a Frenchman. The combination generates odd language dynamics, based on differing overlaps. Essaouira itself is very attractive. In particular, the canons and fortification give a sense of the power this place once projected. The festival atmosphere here now also has me feeling much more at ease. I may well stick around for the weekend.

I expect that things will still be hopping with activity here very late into the night. I just hope I can find our obscure nameless alley and numberless apartment.

Safely in Morocco

Djemma El Fna, Marrakesh

The keyboards here are the strangest I have ever seen. Expect few updates.

One suggestion to travelers to Marakesh: never ask for or accept directions from young men, no matter how lost you are. In my experience, they just lead you to their big friend who thinks one night’s hotel costs are an appropriqte ‘gift’ for their help. They then leave you at least as lost as when you started out. If you refuse such offers very adamently, the young men will just follow you up blind alleys for half an hour or so, laughing when you reach a dead end, and eventually leaving out of boredom.

Not bringing my GPS receiver was a big mistake. That said, I am doing well and have much exploring to do.

Nascent itinerary

Oxford exam celebration

During my week in Morocco, I am aiming to visit Fez and Essaouira. I have been strongly advised to avoid Casablanca and Tangier. Visiting the Atlas mountains or the desert would be good, but I am limited insofar as I cannot drive. Also, it is likely to be exceptionally hot in the desert. In Marrakesh itself, temperatures look set to remain between 20˚C and 30˚C all day long.

I depart in eight hours.

Green glass

Apparently, the United Kingdom is the world’s largest importer of green glass. This is for the simple reason that the UK is the world’s largest importer of wine, bringing in over one billion litres a year and producing almost none. As such, the green glass piles up. There is so much of it that it can only be recycled in inefficient ways, such as grinding it up to use in road surfaces. Doing this uses more energy and resources than making the roads out of other materials and putting the green glass into landfills.

The easiest answer is to make wine bottles out of clear glass that can be recycled into a wider variety of things. Since that doesn’t seem to suit people’s tastes, wineries have come up with an alternative system. They import the wine in 24,000 litre containers (which saves on shipping costs as well) and then use it to fill up the bottles responsible Britons have been leaving at their curbsides for years. If you are curious what a tank of that size resembles, have a look at this page.

Something to consider, next time you are enjoying a bottle of your favourite vintage.

Life improves with feta

Worcester College arches

Tonight, thanks to the cookbook Hilary sent me ages ago, I learned that a very nice pasta sauce can be conjured from onion, garlic, olive oil, basil, green beans, and nice tomatoes. Of course, what makes the whole dish work is the addition of little chunks of feta cheese on top at the end.

In Ottawa, I am planning to undertake several forms of self improvement. Better cooking is certainly on the list, as is rehabilitating my French. I am pondering whether taking some environmental science courses at Carleton or the University of Toronto would also be both possible and desirable. I would love to know more about climatic science, as well as the sciences more generally. Those who feel similarly may find this explanation of the difficulties involved in galactic colonization to be an interesting read.