We arrived in Aqaba, intending to partake in some snorkelling (diving being out of the question with my eardrum almost but not fully recovered) or just some beach time by the Red Sea.
Well, that went out the window pretty fast. At the hotel, a big gust of wind blew the door shut…on my fingers. Profuse bleeding on the floor commenced. My right ring fingertip was badly bruised, but my middle fingertip was a completely mangled mess.
The hotel receptionist helped me out, cleaning my wound with alcohol (OWWW) before taking me to a pharmacy nearby, as he had no bandaging. A curious old man, the owner of a souvenir shop beside the pharmacy, came in with us. The pharmacist was a woman in niqab (wearing the full face veil save for the eye slit) – obviously for a Muslim woman that devout, she couldn’t touch or treat me. Handing over more alcohol, gauze, and tape, the receptionist and the kind old man followed her direction and wrapped me up. Continue reading
Dubrovnik is the one city that’s been on my bucket list for awhile, ever since I saw it featured on the Amazing Race about five years ago. It’s clearly the big kahuna of Dalmatia, possibly all of Croatia – its old town is a giant fortress set on azure waters. It’s the most touristy of the lot and full of giant-cruise-ship passengers, but still incredible to walk around.
Also, incredibly hot at this time of year.
And there was some cafe just through a hole in the city wall where people were jumping off a 10-12 metre cliff into that beautiful water… Continue reading
“Japon! Japon! Korea? China? Indonesia?”
Yeah…walking around the souks in Marrakech wasn’t my idea of fun, especially after Fes. Sadly enough, I did not buy anything but a postcard (which I didn’t have to bargain for), let alone wander into more than 3 or 4 shops, in my entire stay in Morocco. And those shop-wanderings were mostly in Chefchaouen! I cannot stand being hassled, and I ended up not even trying to buy anything. So much as a sideways glance at an item would have someone chasing me down the street calling me Japan or even yelling at me in Japanese. Continue reading
It’s probably better to travel by rental car in Morocco. Taking public transport is a bit annoying – buses don’t run often and the only other option is grands taxis to get between cities: cars with room for four, but they usually carry six. Since we were travelling as a group of four, we just chose to buy up the two remaining seats each time.
We took a grand taxi from Merzouga to Rissani, and ate lunch where we were dropped off. Aaaand that’s where things started to go downhill for me. I had a tagine that had sand in it…and I barely ate. I felt rather bloated. Continue reading