I was going to start this blog with my usual apology for the long gap between posts but honestly I don’t think anyone cares at this I point. Or expects any different.
Last time I wrote I was being a miserable shit, quel surprise. I’m going to be more positive this time, I promise, because we’ve had, for the most part, an upturn in our meteorological fortunes. Being British, the sun (small ‘s’) makes us happy and the rain makes us mardy.
So after Merida we had a whistle stop tour of Andalusia. Seville, Cordoba, Granada, and Ronda in about a week. It seems so long ago that I don’t really know what to write so I’ll try and sum each of them up in a sentence and a photo to spare you my prattle.
Seville is big, full of oranges, beautiful in the sunshine, boring in the rain and has great tapas.
Cordoba is old, full of oranges, full of flowers, has a big old church-mosque hybrid and is pleasant without ever being amazing, and also has lovely tapas.
Granada has the incredible Alhambra, oranges and amazing tapas.
Ronda has a really cool bridge and tapas.
You will note a few themes; oranges, which are literally everywhere in Andalusia, and tapas, which we ate incessantly to the detriment of our waistlines. Worth it. Give me a 2€ jamon asado sandwich and I’m anybody’s. Maybe I shouldn’t admit that in public.
While we enjoyed Spain immensely, we did have a fraught couple of days in Seville, when the rain was against us once more. On one of these days we drove to one of the famous pueblos blancos, the white towns, called Arcos de la Frontera. Mercifully it was dry there, but we had something of an epiphany on the road back to Seville. It went something like this: “what the fuck are we doing here?”
We mentioned in our last post that we had given too much time to a few places on this trip. This thought was echoed in Seville, driving through drizzle to look at yet another village in the grey. What’s the bloody point? We’re spending our limited time and money being bored, trudging through towns just for the hell of it before heading back to our Airbnb to watch tv on the laptop.
We looked at the forecast for Morocco and saw that our next two weeks were set for downpours (in Morocco!!) and I lost the plot a bit.
The long and short of it was that night we decided to shorten our trip slightly. Just by a week to cut down on the pointless days going through the motions. It also gives us a bit more precious time at home to work and see friends and family. It meant that we shaved a few days of Andalusia, and 4 or 5 off Morocco. It meant that Morocco was going to be snappy, no wasted days which pleased us both greatly.
Dammit I was a whiney bitch again wasn’t I?
Right, so we’re now in Morocco which has been brilliant thus far. It is kind of everything you imagine and more, like everything is turned up to 11. The medinas are more complex, the smells are more intense, the cities are more chaotic and the scenery is more beautiful than the most fervent imagination can cook up. We went to a blue town in the mountains called Chefchaouen where it chucked it down for 3 days straight and we didn’t care (fine a little bit) because it was so beautiful it didn’t matter. We rode camels at sunset in the Sahara which was magical and simultaneously destroyed our bottoms. We spent no less than FOUR HOURS bartering over 3 leather pouffes in Fez, and still failed to get the price our numerous Moroccan hosts had insisted we aim for. Admittedly this only amounted to a few pounds difference, but sometimes these things are just a matter of pride. Incidentally our pouffes are lovely, and smell strongly of pigeon faeces thanks to the ancient tanning methods of the Fez merchants. Practical and smelly. What more could you want?! Well I can answer that actually: decent wifi. It’s a pig to upload pictures here so Morocco will get its own post next week.
I don’t actually know how to end this. We’re a week away from coming home now and I have hugely mixed emotions. I’m looking forward to being home for Christmas and all that goes with it, but I feel guilty for wishing away our travels, especially somewhere as special as Morocco, even if it is exhausting at times. I’m going to write a post on the flight home to sum it up for 2018, and I promise, I’m not going to be miserable once.