Growing Abroad
(I’d scroll down and read Part 1 if you haven’t already…its only logical, my dear Watson)
Sleep is now a thing of the past. Sorry Mom, but the “work hard, play hard” mentality does not leave room for “sleep hard” too. You sleep in between work and play when you can. In a bar (well I haven’t done that…yet), on an airplane, in a taxi, when you’re actually spending a night in a bed…you get the picture. After catching up on some sleep on the plane, we landed in Fes. I was in Morocco. I was in Africa. Woahhhhhh. Pretty. Legit.
Now, I know Morocco is not your typical springbreak destination. Or even Africa in general. Unless you’re on a mission trip or something for Habitat for Humanity. Especially in Europe where you’ve got Greece, Croatia, Portugal, all of Spain, other tiny islands in the Mediterranean…the list of more attractive locales goes on and on. But Africa presented a very different experience that I didn’t feel I would be able to get anywhere in Europe. So, Morocco it was. Plus…I was going to ride a camel! That’s right, travelling around the Sahara like you’re supposed to (unless you’ve got a magic carpet): on top of a hump.
First impressions of Morocco: looks a lot like Mexico. Obviously either I’m not very cultured (don’t hate) or Mexico just looks like a lot of the rest of the world. But seriously, lots of mountains, sand, sparse vegetation (fancy word for plants)…Mexico right? I’m sure when I finally check out the western U.S. I’ll say “Wow, looks just like Morocco!” Check out the view of Fes I would later capture:
Morocco was a very interesting place. I believe in the city that we were staying in for the first few days, Fes, there were over 900 streets. We maybe walked on 50 of them? But the main streets are lined with vendors. Food, shoes, leather bags, sunglasses, clothes, toys…you name it. You could buy whatever you wanted on the main streets or squares of Morocco. Granted, there was a good chance it was fake or not the best quality, or stolen somehow, but you could definitely find it. The only thing with the street vendors was that they were extremely annoying. Obviously since I don’t look Moroccan, and neither did Alyssa or Milly or Jonny (who met up with us later on the first afternoon), we were targets for the vendors whenever we glanced at something. If I made eye-contact with a vendor or anything in his store, he’d start with, “Bonjour! Buongiorno! Hola! Hello sir!”…or whatever it took for him to realize what language I understood, and even if I said “Oh, no thanks I was just looking,” there was a good chance he’d get up and start following me. And if I didn’t want something he was selling, “Are you looking for a good place to eat? No? My cousin owns a jewelry store…” Didn’t this guy ever take sex-ed? “No” means “NO” buddy. And yes, this would happen every five minutes.
(…these two gentlemen were not of the annoying breed I referred to, but I hope this gives you a feel of what you’ll see while you walk through the streets…)
I did like the food vendors though (surprise!). Not only was it super cheap (you could eat a full lunch and be stuffed off of street food for probably 4 dollars), but it was very…eclectic. Three things that stood out: great breakfasts (I had almost forgotten what honey was until I was able to smother Moroccan crepes with it), awesome mint tea (they call it “Moroccan Whiskey” but mind you, it does not have any alcohol…take my word for it), and if you saw “Kefta” on the menu and asked the waiter what it was, the answer was “uhh..meat.” No specified animal, just “meat.” I did manage to have a camel burger while I was in Fes too, which was very tasty. Honestly, I can’t really describe the rest of the food to you, so I’ll just show you some pics:
Now, one thing I knew I wanted to buy for myself during my time abroad was a pair of Moroccan leather slippers that I saw one of the kids on the soccer team wearing when I first showed up for try-outs. He said I could get them pretty much anywhere in Morocco. Walking around the streets, I saw them everywhere. But obviously there were different prices for different quality. Some vendors were selling pairs of them for 20 Dirham (Moroccan dollars), which equates to about $0.20. One of the big draws in Fes were the tanneries, which is where leather is made, dyed, and sewn into bags, jackets, and shoes. This is where everything is guaranteed to be hand made (who knows though, as you constantly feel like you’re being taken advantage of in Morocco) out of goat, cow, or camel leather. Needless to say, I definitely wanted to buy my slippers here. So I picked out a pair that I liked and after trying them on gave them to the guy that ran the place to see how much it was going to cost me. “550 Dirham.” What. 550? Nuh-uh noo way. Thank goodness I’m such a good haggler. Bargained that guy down to just 300 dirham. What a steal! Or so I think. I’m sure he still made money off of me but who cares? Not me. I got my slippers so I’m a happy camper.
The tannery was part of a tour that we were on with a tour-guide throughout the main part of Fes (he was a real funny guy actually, made a lot of women jokes…guess that helps the public view of the Muslim community?…). We also visited a few mosques (we were not allowed in though for obvious reasons), some of the world’s oldest universities, some shops that sold pure scents (to be used in perfumes, etc.) and soaps (pretty much the original Body Shop), and I got wrapped in my first turban! Might be the best tour I’ve ever been on. Plus (but wait, there’s more!) all the street vendors leave you alone when they see that you are being guided around by another member of the community.
After two full days in Fes, we were all pretty stoked to get away from the heckling. At 4am on Wednesday morning, we were scheduled to meet a driver that was going to take us to our next destination: Merzouga, a city close to the Sahara where we could meet up with some camels. Unfortunately, this was eight hours away. That meant eight hours in a car, driven by a man named Abdel (most likely spelt that wrong), and listening to Arabic music (not that I don’t enjoy some culture here and there, but eight hours of Slum Dog Millionaire is a lot). Now, if we had planned a little better (I did not plan this Moroccan trip, but I’m not one to blame someone else when I don’t step up to the plate…maybe I am but I’m not putting anyone on blast here), we could have stopped at a place on the way to Merzouga where wild monkeys lived and played, and we could have played with them! Jane Goodall still has me on that one unfortunately. So monkeys are still on my list of animals to hang out with. How did I get through eight hours in the car without a pit stop to see some monkeys you ask??? I copped the whole back row bench (the van sat seven don’t you worry, I’m not that much of a hog) and was able to lie down and sleep some hours away. The scenery we travelled through was absolutely breathtaking. Check these landscapes out:
We got to Merzouga, and some of us were sick of Abdel already. He was not the most polite fellow especially to the ladies, but we had another 10 hour drive ahead of us on Thursday so we just smiled and laughed and made merry. Another short drive into the Sahara, and we were all ready to hop on a camel and explore what the desert had to offer us. Meet my new buddy, Dwayne:
Quite the photogenic and dapper lad. Dwayne (named after Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, who starred in The Scorpion King and rode a camel in that movie) was a very trusty steed. He could lift the weight of two grown men!…Literally, because I’m one grown man and my backpack was probably the weight of another. Off into the desert we rode, free as the wind (almost…well actually not at all since a rope ran through Dwayne’s mouth and was attached to the back of Alyssa’s camel, “Schmekel,” that rode ahead of us). The Sahara was awesome. Breathtaking. Captivating. Delicious to behold (if you asked my eyes). If you didn’t catch it, I was trying to run through the alphabet with adjectives to describe my experience…gotta brush up on my synonyms, that’s for sure. We rode on towards our campsite for an hour and a half, and the last 30 minutes or so could easily be the most uncomfortable 30 minutes of my life. Camels are not the Audis of beasts-of-burden, so let’s just say I can only be hopeful that I will still be able to have kids some day.
We made it to our campsite, and I started getting excited. You may not know this about me, but I am a sucker for the midnight sky. Stars really get me going. And in the middle of the Sahara…ohhhh boy, I was going to be able to see a LOT of stars. But first, dinner. More ethnic Moroccan dishes. My taste buds and stomach were enjoying day six of their ten day honeymoon. We later sat around a campfire and played some bongo drums while stretching to learn some Moroccan folk songs (no, I cannot recall any of these) and gaze at the stars. One thing I made sure I did was fill an Arabic Coke bottle that I had secured from a restaurant earlier in our travels with sand from the Saharan desert. Most Interesting Man in the World, here I come.
We knew that we’d have to wake up early in order to catch our scheduled flights out of Marrakech on Thursday, so we thought it might as well be a good idea to try and catch the sunrise on camelback that morning. So we woke up at 5am, and I hopped aboard Dwayne once again to conquer the sands. Was it cold? Yes. Was I awake? Nope. But, would seeing the sunrise in the Sahara make up for it? Ohhh yeah. Me and Simba now have one more thing in common…
Dwayne and Co. took us back to meet our driver so we could make our way to Marrakesh. Ten more hours in the car would be interrupted now and again by a stop for a great view, but Abdel was also clearly in a rush and turned ten hours into just eight. I guess that deserves a tip? No point in me keeping my leftover dirham anyway I guess. Marrakesh was more of the same for me at this point: more annoying street vendors, more tasty food, and more sun. Alyssa and I would spend just a few hours there before we headed to the airport to get to our last stop: Barcelona…or as the locals there call it, “Barthelona.” Goodbye Morocco, you were like the annoying little sister I never had, but I still loved ya when shopping was not involved.
There have been many great trilogies throughout history, and another one was in the making during my 10 day springbreak. Yes, I still get a springbreak even though I’m already on what some of you would call a “vacation.” I’m not going to make a big deal about it…but it was pretty awesome. A few weeks back I booked my last two flights (well, a friend booked them for me because I have really nice friends that don’t mind spotting me money when I’m not in front of my computer) to complete my trip and make sure I made it back to Rome…at 7am on Monday to wrap up a presentation for my 10am class (recurring theme?). The line-up for Nick’s Springbreak2012, and possibly the last springbreak he’ll ever have, was as follows: Belgium – Morocco – Barcelona. Basically: beer, waffles and chocolate – camels, desert, and street food – tapas, beach bumming and beach clubbing.
Before I even made it to the plane, dilemma numero uno met me headstrong: How the heck do I pack for a 10 day trip in three different climates?! Belgium was going to be cold, Morocco was going to be hot, but I needed to pack clothes for travelling through the desert to protect me from the sun and the sand, and Barcelona was supposed to be very nice. Needless to say, I definitely over-packed. My first time using my Deuter backpacking pack and to say the least, I did not look like a pro. I’m sure it was too heavy to count as my 10kg carry-on, but my airline didn’t check. So on Thursday night, Shane and I headed off to Belgium, where we planned to sleep in the airport and then meet up with some friends on Friday morning.
Only in Belgium would it make sense to sell waffles in vending machines. This was the first thing I saw when we landed, and not gonna lie, it just got me more excited for the variety of food I’d be consuming over the next 10 days. I didn’t buy one because I was more focused on finding a solid spot to sleep for a few hours. I had never slept on the floor of a public place, but now I can no longer say that. Sleeping in the airport was barely that though. Shane and I each caught maybe three or so hours until 4am, and then a guard woke me up and said I couldn’t keep my cozy spot on the cold floor, so naturally I woke Shane up to relocate. If I had to struggle to snooze in a chair then so would he. We had five hours to kill, as the first bus from the airport to center city Brussels was not until 9am. I’m not usually one to nap, especially in public or anywhere but my bed or couch, but this springbreak would change all of that, and five more hours in the airport was just the beginning.
Getting off of the bus in Brussels was…friggin’ cold. And of course, in my hectic last minute packing, I left my sweatshirt behind, and chose to only bring a windbreaker to wear on top of my t-shirt. But let’s be honest people, I’ve been through worse. That is something I’m so glad I can tell myself: “Ah yeah…in Venice I walked around for six hours in 35 degree weather until 6am with nowhere to sleep, and I made it through.” Whenever I’m feeling a little chilly, I just remind myself that, and I can easily move on. So for a few hours, Shane and I just trekked around Brussels (Venice round deux?) seeing some important landmarks and getting a bit of a hold on the layout of the city. And of course, a Belgian waffle. What a scrumptious sight:
(photo cred: Shane)
When Alyssa and Milly arrived, they touched base with us so we could all meet up at our hotel. Yes, we were staying at a hotel. Getting classy over here! No airport, stairwell, boat in the canal, or hostel this time…upgrade! It was actually a good deal too: 90 something dollars for the four of us…shampoo included! I didn’t realize how nice and homey a hotel room could feel until that moment, but it was a welcome feeling. With our group all together, we were ready to get immersed in Belgium culture. By that I obviously mean we were ready for a beer, some food, and chocolate. That is how you correctly start off your time in Belgium. Take my word for it.
That would be my diet for the few days I was in Belgium. Was I totally okay with it? Absolutely. The highlight of my time in Brussels, besides my daily diet, was one very special alley for nightlife. Delirium Alley may be the most popular single street in Brussels after 4pm. This one alley that is maybe 500 feet long is home to the Delirium string of bars: a tequila bar, a rum bar, and of course a typical bar that serves just beer. Delirium was the place to be for Belgians and tourists alike, so on Friday night we got there around 10pm, grabbed a table, and started our night. With approximately two-hundred beers on tap, and a two liter glass available to order, I had a feeling I could come here every night for a week and be completely content with myself. And yes, of course I purchased a two liter glass of “Buffalo Bitter” beer. Why wouldn’t I? Go big or go home. You only live once. Live free or Die Hard…wait, that’s a Die Hard movie. It cost me 60 euros (40 of which was a deposit incase I broke or more likely stole the glass…needless to say, I got my 40 euros back) and it was one of my more memorable achievements. Words of wisdom (oh yes…they’re back!) : if an establishment offers up a behemoth dish…a five pound burger, a liter milkshake (I just came up with that genius idea!), a 48oz sirloin steak, a two liter glass of beer…get it. If not by yourself, then with a few friends. You don’t want to regret that one time you didn’t try to down that three pound banana split. And if you don’t get your picture on the wall for finishing it, just take one yourself. I didn’t make it over the the Delirium tequila bar over the course of the weekend, but there’s always next time, right?…
(photo cred: Milly)
A bunch of people I know from JCU, Northeastern, and friends from home that are also studying abroad were all headed to Brussels this particular weekend. I was particularly excited that my best friends from Northeastern that are studying in Berlin were going to meet up with us as these are my best guy friends and it had been a while since we were able Besides the culture here for obvious reasons. Once we were finally able to meet up (they are not the most organized group of guys at all), my weekend was made. The reason so many people were headed to Brussels for this weekend was because of a concert/rave that was being held the next night in a city about an hour and a half outside of Brussels. Sensation White was quite the experience. Rules are simple: be dressed head to toe in white, be ready to dance, and don’t over do it on any substances you choose to take. I didn’t have to worry about that last part, but I have honestly never seen so many people being wheeled around on stretchers in my life. Not that there were that many, but I felt like more than a handful of stretchers trying to wheel dehydrated party-ers to the pseudo-hospital wing was more than enough. Maybe I’m a little sheltered, but I’d like to hope not. Besides that, it was really quite the show. I can’t really describe it, but if you care to google it and look it up go right on ahead. Ten hours later (yes, that’s how long it went), my buddies were headed back to Berlin, and Shane and I headed back to the train station to make it back to Brussels, find Alyssa’s hotel room, mooch off of her Best Western included continental breakfast (well…honestly only I did that…soo hungry!), and catch some much needed z’s.
With one more day left in Belgium, we decided to head to Bruges. A two and a half hour train ride later, and we landed in a city that seemed to spill right out of a fairy tale. Bruges is absolutely beautiful (take a looksee above). If you go to Belgium you need to do two things in my opinion: spend a night in Delirium Alley and spend a day or two in Bruges. Not only is it a beautiful city, but there is even more beer and chocolate! We spent the day visiting the very last functioning brewery in Bruges (all others have moved outside the city), a church that has a vile of Jesus Christ’s blood in its possession (crystallized or something like that), and…eating more chocolate. Shane and I even got double brewed chocolate milk which was like if Nesquik and Hershey’s had a baby and then fed it only steroids and more chocolate for its whole life. Super delicious. The beer at the brewery was also super amazing. Just a word of advice: when you make it Belgium (when, not if), after a while you just realize that you might not want to ever have chocolate or beer anywhere else in the world because it just won’t match up.
After we splurged on our first real meal out in our travels (well worth it), Alyssa, Milly and I were headed back to the train station while Shane was going to stick around Bruges for a few days. The three of us were headed to Fes, Morocco and Alyssa and I were going to meet Shane in Barcelona in four days time. We parted ways, and once back in Brussels, we had a good four hours to kill before we headed to catch our plane out of Belgium. Obviously, we headed back to Delirium, but this time just to hang out and stay awake. Milly didn’t make it past a few minutes, but with my last Belgian beer in me, we roused her when it was time and made it to the airport.
If I actually have anyone reading this besides my parents (sorry Mom and Dad, you don’t really count for this), you’ll notice I’ve pretty much been MIA for about a month or so. I just posted about Amsterdam, which I think was a March 2nd-ish sort of deal. Today is April 5th, so you do the math. Just to keep you enticed, I’m going to throw up some photos below of some more times I’ve been having abroad. But be on the lookout! I’ll soon be showing some pics of when my fam was here (party!) and telling you about Springbreak2012 (probably the last spring break I’ll ever have) that consisted of Belgium, Morocco, and Barcelona. The most interesting man in the world has nothing on me (Dos Equis reference if you didn’t get that…the mexican beer?..XX…oh well….). First of a few updates will keep you salivating (pun intended!) until I make it back to my computer…check out my culinary skillzzzz below:
p.s. I’ve only got four more weeks in Rome!…weird.
