I arrived to Buenos Aires and met up with my friend Bridget.  She lives in Buenos Aires and seeing her was a perfect way to kick off the start of my travels in South America.  B and I figured that in the past four months we have seen each other on four different continents.  North America in July, Europe/Africa in September, and South America in October. That doesn’t happen every day!  I arrived early in the morning and was welcomed to a delicious little breakfast in her sunny apartment.  How lucky am I?  We spent the day walking around the city, getting my laundry done, eating helado and drinking red wine (in that order.)

I had to be up early the next morning to meet my friends from California.  After traveling with my parents for a week my brain was still not back into travel planning mode.  B asked “Where are you going tomorrow?”  The airport, I answered.  “No, I know that. I mean after the airport.  Where are you flying to?”  Hmm.  I’m not quite sure.  I think maybe the W Trek. “Okay, well that’s in Chile.  Are you flying there?”  Honestly I have no idea.  It’s true! I had very little clue.  Is that so bad?  Patagonia is a tricky area.  It covers a huge amount of land and it can be tough to figure out the details, trust me we tried!  After a few weeks of attempting to research all of the flights, buses, transports, treks, cities and mountains, my friends and I figured that our best bet would be to go through a specialized tour company to help us. I didn’t realize what a great choice this was until I met people along the way in Patagonia who were struggling with the details of their trip.  Oh don’t get me wrong.  It absolutely can be done!  But this isn’t Europe where there are 7 trains running between any two cities daily.  One guy we met said “Yeah I didn’t know there was only one bus per day between these two places so I need to re-plan a couple of things.”

When B asked me,  I knew I was meeting my friend at the airport and we were going from there.  I didn’t know all the details and I was totally fine with that.  It was really nice to sit back, relax and enjoy the ride.  To not have to think about hotel or transport details is so incredibly relaxing.  Additionally, there is something to be said for having no expectations.  Yes, a good rule of thumb when traveling is to have a general idea of where you are and where you are going.  However I have seen too much planning have the opposite effect.  For me having no frame of reference or a limited idea of what will happen next keeps me in the moment and more present.  There is no way to think about what I am going to see or do because I have LITERALLY no idea what I am going to see or do.  In that sense, the only thing to really focus on is what’s happening right in front of me.  Most likely a healthy balance between planning and no expectations is key.  I will let you know when I reach that perfect combination.

I left B’s house and went to the airport looking for my friend Jackie and her husband Jamie.  Let’s take a moment here to talk about Jackie.  This gal is just amazing.  She is a teacher I worked with in San Diego and have become friends with over the past few years.  Jackie was one of the first people at my school that I mentioned this whole crazy “take a year off of work to travel” idea.  She was totally onboard and  encouraging from the get go.  She would say things like “If you have a calling in your heart to do something like this it won’t quiet down until you’ve followed through.”  WOW!  I mean she would just drop these ‘thought bombs’ on me while we were walking around the playground at students’ recess.  These were ‘stop you in you’re tracks’ words of wisdom that really made me think about my decision and why I was doing what I was planning to do.

One day while on a walk around school Jackie mentioned that she would like to go to Igauzu Falls in Argentina.  A friend of mine had just gotten back from Patagonia and my wheels were spinning about visiting this beautiful and desolate part of South America.  I had been to Ecuador and Peru the previous summer but this time I was ready to go further south!  Jackie just retired this year and she was game for an adventure.  Very quickly (with more planning on her part than mine.  Don’t act surprised,) a trip was created and we were traveling to Patagonia!  And not just the store!  The actual territory of land that is shared between southern Chile and Argentina! Yessss!!!

That morning I walked into the airport and said a little prayer that I would find Jackie easily.  What do you know?  She was right there at the front of the check-in line, putting her last piece of luggage on the scale and waving towards me.  I didn’t have to wait in the 45 minute line. I mean really.  It doesn’t get any better than that.

Jackie, Jamie and I took a flight to a little town called El Calafate in Argentina.  This place was your quintessential ski town tucked between the border of Lake Argentino.  The town is named after a plant that grows in the area.  The plant has yellow flowers and little blue berries.  Many things are made out of the berries such as drinks, ice cream, cookies.  Legend has it if you eat the calafate berries you will come back to Patagonia.

Jackie, Jamie and I spent the night in El Calafate and woke up early the next morning to catch a bus heading for Chile.  It was four hour bus ride to the Chilean border.  Once there we all disembarked the bus and went through an hour customs line to leave Argentina.  We got back on the bus, drove a mile and did the whole process again to enter Chile.  It took us nearly 3 hours to cross over. Let me tell you, Chile is very strict with what you bring into their country.  We weren’t allowed to bring in any type of fresh fruit, vegetables, nuts , grains etc.  While waiting in line we heard an urban legend of a traveler who forgot to declare an apple and was charged $500.  When she said she didn’t have cash the agent said “It’s okay, we will drive to the ATM.”

We got through the Chilean border with no problems and no rouge $500 apple charges. We were picked up at the bus station by our guides for the week Chris and Claudio who proceeded to drive us  two hours to our accommodation for the week. After nearly 10 hours in transit we made it!  EcoCamp!!

 

It was time to fly between continents.  My route was Milan-Madrid-Buenos Aires. I flew the Spanish airline Iberia and it was actually quite nice. Well,  let’s rewind that.  The flight between Madrid and Buenos Aires was perfectly fine.  Pleasant, I could even say.  The flight between Milan and Madrid. . . not so much.  This was probably the teeniest, tiniest seat arranged flight I have ever seen;  and remember I flew RyanAir!!  To beat RyanAir in the “cramped” category is an astonishing feat.  These seats were PACKED together. Think circus clowns in a car eating sardines.

I should have known something was awry when the airline emailed me a few days prior: “We have changed the type of aircraft for this flight and, as the seat distribution is different, we have booked you another seat with similar characteristics.”  Right there and then a red flagged should have waved in my brain.  But instead of a red flag I turn my attention to a second email from Iberia offering me lounge services for my inconvenience.  Oh hello lounge access!  You know the relationship between me and lounges.  It’s my unrequited love around air travel.  During my entire flight from Milan-Madrid, I sat in the middle seat squished and stuffy, but reminding myself I get to go in the lounge for my 3 hour layover.  Wohoo!    When I arrived in Madrid I casually swaggered up to the Iberia lounge and showed them my confirmation email.

The exchange between myself and the lounge agent went something like this:

Hello!  I have this email confirmation regarding lounge access for my layover.
Great.  Can I see it please?
Here you go! *a bit too cheerily*
Oh no.  No I’m sorry.  This lounge access isn’t for Madrid.  It is for Bilbao.
Where is Bilbao?
Spain.
*Totally confused* Am I going to Bilbao?  Do I have a layover there?
No, your layover is here in Madrid.
 Oookay. Then why would I want lounge access in Bilbao?
I guess the airline would like to offer you the lounge if you are ever in Bilbao.
That makes absolutely zero sense to me.
I’m sorry Miss Weatherford.
*Did she just intentionally mispronounce my name to add insult to injury?!*
Goodbye.
*Argh!  Airport lounges why do you taunt me?!*

Just like the last time, I made my way back out to the common area with the general population.  And you know what?  It was quite fine.  More than fine actually.  I ate common food, listened to a common podcast, and made common conversation with nice people.  Maybe airline lounges aren’t all they are cracked up to be.  Maybe the allure of the lounge is the most appealing part about the whole situation. . .Oh who am I kidding?  They are fabulous and wonderfully stocked with free coffee, food and wifi.  I cursed the lounge that night.  I made a promise that this war wasn’t over.  I will seek my revenge and when I do it will be oh so sweet.

In related news, let me know if you’re planning to go to Bilbao, Spain in the near future.  I have airport lounge access I’m looking to unload at a fair price.

While planning this whirlwind adventure, the first thing I booked was a trip to Argentina with friends in the middle October.  As I was trying to decide what to do in the weeks leading up to that, I asked my friends and family if they thought it would be crazy to start in Europe and fly between continents.  “It’s not crazy if it’s what you want to do.”   Well it’s what I wanted to do so I did it, and it was some of the best weeks of my life.  I was beyond blessed to meet wonderful people and see beautiful sights.  In addition,  I traveled for a bit with my parents and two friends from home.  I can only hope that the rest of this year is as amazing as these past six weeks have been.

Sometimes having so many different currencies in my wallet makes it all seem a bit like Monopoly money. I have to be careful not to spend it as such.

 

If you’re reading this blog, there is a good chance you know me and have therefore met my parents.  If you’ve never had the opportunity to make their acquaintance, let me tell you now you are missing out.  My parents are the best and I realize it more and more every day.  When I was beginning to think about this trip, they were nothing but encouraging and supportive.  They, of course, had hesitations (like any caring parents would ) but most were related to my safety. Questions like “Will you spend the whole time alone?” not questions like  “Are you legitimately out of your mind to quit your job?”

As I planned this adventure, there were numerous times I was overcome with pre-trip anxieties.   I would call my parents and essentially try to convince them to talk me out of the whole thing.   One night after an hour on the phone  discussing details with my dad  I said, “I don’t know Dad.  I think this is maybe too crazy.  Quit my job, sell the car, sublease the apartment?  This is insane right.  Totally financially irresponsible.  It just seems like too much right?” My dad didn’t take the bait.  “Theresa if you want to do it, then do it.  Travel when you are young.  People spend more money in one day buying a car out of their price range than you are in a year.  You’re not going to regret it.” The best.   Often times I would get questions from people about what my parents thought about this whole thing.  I’m not sure what they expected my answer to be but usually it was “My parents are more excited about this trip than I am.”  After leaving San Diego, I was on the East Coast with my parents for two weeks before heading off to Spain.  During that time it was all hands on deck.  My mom, dad and sister were running around for me picking up last minute supplies, booking hotels, and researching details.  It takes a village to send Theresa on a trip apparently.

After Sicily, I flew to see my parents in Rome.  These two crazy kids are now retired so they average at least two trips a year.  It’s a fairly common occurrence for me to call home on a random Tuesday and chat with mom about what’s new.  The typical response is: “Oh not much honey. We are just packing because your father and I are leaving for Paris/Vienna/London/Frankfurt tomorrow on a walking tour/train trip/river cruise.”  Needless to say, it was not a big deal that they were in Europe the same time as me but it was quite special that I would be able to join them on their travels for a few days.

For this trip, my parents were with a tour group with whom they often travel.   It’s an ideal situation because the trip details are essentially planned for them.  They go with a group from their hometown and a leader  who serves as a travel agent and tour guide combined.  It’s a great set up because they can do as much or as little with the group as they want.  My parents being the rogue European travelers that they are, do many things on their own.  For this reason it was quite easy for me to slip into the group.  The group consisted of about 20 people all over let’s just say 50. Everyone was so sweet and to say I fit right in would be an understatement.  “Who’s up for a little gelato and music in the square?!”  Honestly, it was such a treat for me.  After many weeks of planning and figuring out details, it was so nice to just follow a group.

The first few days were spent in Rome visiting all the sights.  The Vatican, Coliseum, Roman ruins, Pantheon and about 100 cathedrals.

Next we took the train to Siena which is an amazing city with, quite possibly, the most beautiful piazza in Italy.  We spent time in Tuscany, wine tasting and touring different small towns.

We ended the trip in the small town of Lucca near Cinque Terre.  I loved this place.  Super tiny and adorably cute town.  We spent one day biking around the city and the following one in Cinque Terre.  Is Cinque Terre the most awe inspiring place on earth or what?  It was so much fun walking between the towns and taking in the ridiculous views.  I kept pondering if these houses on the cliffs actually went up for sale or if they were just passed down through families generation after generation.

After a fabulous time with my parents I was ready to say goodbye, adios, ciao, au revoir to Europe.  I had spent an amazing 6 weeks there and I ended on a high note by seeing my family.  I was ready for the next phase of my adventure!

You have such a warm heart, Theresa, that will open itself to many people who will offer you hospitality in so many forms along the way. All the details will work themselves out, and you’ll be taken care of, by people and places you haven’t even thought of yet.

This is part of an email I recieved from my friend Vicki on July 12th, 2014 after telling her about my trip and, of course, my growing anxieties surrounding the details.  It felt so reassurring and heartwarming to read it at the time but it was difficult to trust these words of wisdom.  However, day by day I am realizing the truth in these words.

On the second day of the Camino I met two women from Italy.  We became the day’s walking group and quick friends.  When they asked me if I had ever been to Italy, I told them yes but never Sicily.  ‘Oh, Sicily is like no where else: the sea, the people, the food.  It is a hidden gem.’  As I walked with them we shared stories about ourselves and our lives.  Every minute on the Camino counts and there was much to be said.  They left the trail a few days before me.  As we were saying our goodbyes, they said to me “Theresa, please come visit us in Sicily if you have the chance. You will love it.” I agreed with them saying that I should visit but I took this invitation with a grain of salt.  I really connected to these new friends, but I also know how easy it is to throw around invitations.  I’ve invited many people to come to visit me in California.  Although I have loved every person who has come to see me, I know the logistics and planning of having vistors can be tricky.

Over the next few days I thought about visiting Sicily but thought about it in a “superficial” and not “serious” kind of way.    A day after I ended my walk I received an email from my new friends (we had exchanged earlier in the week to share pictures) telling me of their adventure home and how they were stuck in the Madrid airport for 6 hours.  The end of the email said “How are you? Where are you now? It was so nice walking together, all of us, exchanging opinions, talking, singing or just listening to each other.  It was lovely.  Another gift of the Camino.  Let us know your plans.  We would be glad to be included in them. All the best from your Italian Pilgrim friends.”

How could I refuse this?  A gift was being offered to me.  I had to reach out and grab it.  I emailed them back just for one last confirmation.  I like to give people numerous “outs” before finally taking them up on an offer.   My email was something along the lines of  What days are best if I were to potentially come visit and it is perfectly fine if things no longer work for you!  Their response was: It doesn’t matter to us!  We are here, so whenever is good for us.  Perfect.  How does Tuesday work?  I booked a flight that day.  The next week I was  looking for people who I had met 3 weeks early and knew for about 2 days.  This pretty sumed up my trip to this point.  TRUST.  I arrived at the airport and my new friends were waiting for me.

My friends were neighbors and best friends.  I spent the week going between their houses, spending time with their families and attempting to understand what it meant to be Sicilian.  I would always tell my friends they lived in paradise.  Their houses were right next to the sea.  I would lounge on the rocks sunbathing and then jump into the water and swim around to the little islands in the water.  They acknowleged that the island was serene and beautiful but they were quick to point out that Italy has many problems.  We talked for hours about how the government is corrupt and does not have enough money to upkeep all the public buildings, cathedrals and monuments.  While walking in the city my friend pointed out trash that was piling up on the street.  She noted that she pays so much money for trash collection.  I agreed with her and said that trash services are expensive in the states as well.  “Yes,” she said “but your trash actually gets picked up.”  This was a common theme throughout the week.  Italy is very disorganized and the econmy is bad.  The further south one goes, the more so it gets.    At one point my friend’s son stated, “In Sicily we say a lot and do little.  We are lost in words.”

Most nights we would sit outside under the canopy roof, eating, laughing and sharing stories.  Everyone was just as interested in Califonia and life in the United States as I was with learning more about their lives.  We talked about politics of both countries, traveling across europe, driving across the US, New York City, accents, learning a second language, and so much more. I tried to practice speaking Italian but it was a bit of a struggle.  At one point my friend said, “Do you know you speak Italian with a Spainish accent?”  Well yes, that’s because when I think of a second language my brain automatically goes into Spainish-mode!  I was caught between languages. Saying “muchas gracias” when I meant “grazie” and “de nada” when I meant “prego.” I was also able to observe the constant learning that takes place while acquring a second language.  My friends would always ask me for clarification on words and sayings.  We were walking around one night and one said “Keep attention to your purse.  Does that make sense? Would you say ‘keep attention.'” I told her I would most likely say ‘pay attention.’  “Pay attention?  ‘Pay’ like you pay for a ticket?  Why do you say that?”  My response was “I have no idea! It doesn’t make sense!”

Much of our conversations were very to the point.  I don’t speak Italian and sometimes my friends weren’t always able to think of the right way to say something in English.  This led to very charming and straight forward commentary.  One night after a long dinner with my friends and their families, a friend of the family who had just graduated from college said something to the table in Italian.  They all nodded and answered “si, si.”  The girl turned to me and said “I really enjoy talking to you.  You are fun and make us laugh.  Tomorrow my family is having lunch for my graduation and I would like you to come.  Will you come and join us?”  I told her I would love to be there to help celebrate her.  The next day we went to her family’s house on the 15th floor of a downtown apartment. At the dinner table were her parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, and a few family friends.  I sat down at the table with the family and was treated to the most delicious five course Sicilian meal you could ever imagine.

In total I was in Sicily for a week.   It was magical.  When I first booked my trip I thought one week may be too long to stay with people I really didn’t know.  It was the only times the flights worked but I was having second thoughts.  And yet when I arrived my friends never asked me how long I was staying.  It was a topic of conversation that was never brought up.  The Sunday before I left, I made an offhanded comment about meeting my parents in Rome on Wednesday.  They responded with shock: “This Wednesday?! 3 days from today?!”  Well yes, I thought.  That will have been a week that I’ve been here.  “No!  You must stay longer next time.  Two or three weeks at least.”

Thoughout the entire week they made me feel completely at home.  After five weeks of traveling it was just what I needed.  We did little days trips around the town but mostly my time was spent exploring the area and being with others.  Traveling alone can be lonely.  It is awesome, exciting, exhilerating, and SO much fun.  But it can also be lonely and isolating.  In Sicily,  I was treated like family.  It made me so happy to be there and share simple expereinces with wonderful people.  I will go back and visit my friends again.  Before starting my worldwide adventure, I assumed many of my expereriences would be about crossing items off my bucket list.  Instead I am realizing these experiences are creating a domino affect of overflowing my bucket with more places to visit and people to see.  I am learning that my friend was right in her email all those months ago.  The details will work themselves out.  People and places I haven’t even thought of yet will present themselves.  All I have to do is say YES.

After Morocco, Bridget and I flew back to Madird where she left from the next day.  Later that morning, I skyped with my parents.  I told them about the food poisoning and how I was too weak to do anything.  My parents said “Theresa!  The best cure for not feeling well is to hit the pavement and start walking around.  Drink lots of water and go explore the city.”  That sounded like the last thing I wanted to do, but I was in Madrid, Spain.  I felt as if I owed it to myself to seize the day, gosh darnit.  Hmm. . What can I do that requires little to no energy on my part?  Then inspiration hit.  I went out and booked a seat on a mega double decker bus that tour the city.  I walked to the bus stop and climbed abroad. There was a section of the bus in the very back that was most likely reserved for elderly patrons.  The seats were a bit more comfortable and the last few rows were shaded under a canopy overhang.  The bus was fairly empty, so with my classic “I have no shame because no one knows me in this city” mentality, I trudged to the back of the double decker bus towards the senior center with my gallon size water bottle and dark shades.  I must have looked like a poor soul.  Slumped in my shaded seat, gingerly sipping water and nibbling on generic Ritz crackers I had picked up along the way.   And you know what?  I did feel a bit better.  I was able to see much of the city with not much exertion.

The next day I left and traveled by bus to Granada Spain.  A friend was going to be in Granada after attending a wedding in southern Spain.  We figured we could meet up for a night or two.  On a whim, I decided to book an apartment through the website Airbnb.  I had never used it before but found a cute little apartment with excellent reviews.  I contacted the owner, we negotiated a price, I paid it through the website, and we determine a place to meet when I arrived.  She told me to meet her at 4:30 at square in the Andalucia neighborhood of Granada.   I arrived to the square at 4:25.  I hauled my bags to a tiny, little square and started looking for my host.  I had her name as well as a small picture from her Airbnb profile.  I waited and waited.

4:45-No sign of her
5:00-Still nothing
5:10-Okay I was starting to get a bit worried
5:15-I told myself  I’m not going to really start panicking until 5:30.  That’s when I will really start to worry.
5:20-Oh my gosh. I have been totally taken advantage of. I don’t even know this person. This profile and picture could be fake.  I already paid and it is a total scam. I can’t believe I did this.  Where am I a going to stay tonight? Okay, I will get a cab and ask the driver to go the center of town. I will be able to find a hotel even if I need to pay more than I want to.  My dad’s word rang in my ears “Never let money make you stay in an uncomfortable situation.”
5:30-I  walked to the nearest café with wifi (my phone is essentially useless unless I am connected to a network and wifi can be hard to find.)  I signed onto Airbnb and fired off a very direct email to my “host,” who by that time I was convinced was a scammer in some far away land, “Esther: I’ve been waiting for you in the square for over an hour.  Are you planning on showing up?  Please let me know ASAP.  Theresa.”

After five minutes and no answer, I walked back to the square trying to console myself like I would a student I work with at school.  Take a deep breath. This isn’t a huge problem. We’ll  contact Airbnb and maybe they’ll give me a refund.  The most important thing is to be safe.   As I walk back into the square I hear someone shout “TERESA!” I look up and wouldn’t you know it, there is Esther looking just like her profile picture.  “I have been looking for you,” she tells me “Where have you been?” Um, here in the square with my huge backpack and suitcase looking like a tourist. . where have YOU been,  I thought to myself.  “Ah dios mio! We were just having lunch at that café and I have been looking for you” she explains.  In all honestly, I don’t know how we missed each other. Maybe she was too concerned with her tapas/wine, maybe I was lost in my own thoughts and not looking as hard as I  should have been.  Either way it was a huge relief when we finally connected.  We walked to the apartment and all my worries immediately disappeared.  It was a beautiful little place in a great location. It was located on top of a hill surrounded by restaurants and cafes with all the streets winding around the center of town.

The rest of the weekend was exactly what I needed.  I wasn’t feeling up to doing much other than walk around the city, Skype with friends, catch up on emails and nurse myself back to good health.   This was a perfect place to bunker down and feel at home.

The main attraction in Granada is the Alhambra.  The Alhambra is a huge palace and fortress built in the 11th century.  As with many things in southern Spain it has influences of Christianity and Muslim.  This place is really quite amazing and I am so glad I was able to see it.  A word to the wise: If you are going to Granada Spain and you want to see the Alhambra book your tickets well in advance. The city only let’s a certain amount of visitors in each day.  There are advance sales and also “day of” tickets.   Did I know this?  Nope.  Did I buy a ticket in advance? Of course not.  I didn’t even really know I was going to Granada until a couple of days before I got there.  Why would I think to book tickets to the Alhambra two weeks in advance.  Not having tickets gave me two options.  Option 1: Wake up at 6am, get into line at the Alhambra by 7, wait for the ticket office to open at 8, hope to get a ticket by 9, and return for entrance on the time printed on the ticket (anywhere from 9am-5pm.)  The idea of waking up at 6 when I already felt a bit sick sounded less than ideal.  Option 2: Buy the Granada City Pass, which was more expensive than a solo Alhambra ticket and have access to a guaranteed afternoon pass to visit the palace as well as other museums and cathedrals in the city. Yes, sounds perfect.  Sign me up.  The Alhambra is a feast to the senses, encompassing gardens, a fortified city and palace.  I’m told it is the most visited monument in Spain.

The last night in Granada I met up with my friend Kelsey. I would have loved to have seen her longer,  but unfortunately I was leaving for Sicily the next day.  We had a wonderful time eating, drinking and sharing stories about our travels in Spain.  I was also starting to feel a bit better so it was a nice night to eat some of Granada’s world famous tapas.  If you are ever in Spain, make Granada a stop along your way.  I really loved this town’s energy and eclectic vibe.

The next morning we boarded a train heading down the coast to Marrakech.  I immediately woke up not feeling well.  Bridget asked me if I was okay and I stated “I’m fine.  Just not feeling great.  I’m sure it’s nothing.”  Why is that phrase such a sneaky fox?  “I’m sure it’s nothing.”  It’s obviously something and yet denial can be such a powerful tool.  While continue to  think “I’m sure it’s nothing,” I popped a couple of Advils and got on the train.  Well,  let’s just say it WAS something.  4 hours later we arrived in Marakech and it hit us both like the freight train we were just riding on.

We went to the hotel (a beautiful Raid in the center of the medina) and were treated to mint tea served with an adorable pet bird. After checking in we tried to rouse ourselves to go out.  “We’re fine! Let’s go!” we kept saying to ourselves and one another.  We were on a mission to walk to the center of town where there is a vibrant center square with street performers, vendors and restaurants.  There we were:  two sick, tired, weary girls trying to decipher a confusing street map.  Needless to say the city is not laid out in grid form.  We made it about three blocks, looked at each other and came to the conclusion it wasn’t going to happen.

The next morning we woke up and tried the city tour again.  We went to the Bahia Palace and then for lunch at rooftop café.  For some reason during lunch I became very overwhelmed (Oh wait I know the reason!  Maybe it was due to being sick, and not having digested food in the previous 24 hours.)  B and I were sitting outside waiting for our lunch and I went to the bathroom.  On the way there I just started to cry.  (Note: I am always envious of people who say “I was about to cry and I just told myself  “‘No don’t do it. So I didn’t.”  This is absolutely not me.  If I feel like I am about to cry, it’s already too late.  And on another note: I was talking to a friend about this once and she stated “Good.  You should cry.  Why would you want that negative energy inside your body.” I love the California mentality!)

Anyway, I come back from the bathroom and was still upset.  B looked at me with a concerned face and said “Oh my gosh!  What did you see on the way to bathroom?!” Honestly I didn’t see anything out of the usual.  Everything just hit me all at once while I was in this somewhat vulnerable state.  Our time in Morocco up to that point was filled with gorgeous sights, smells and sounds but there were also extremely sad parts.  During our tour with Hassan we saw many elderly people sitting on the streets with their heads down and their hands out (to receive money.) I asked Hassan if these people were homeless.  “No madam,” he stated “but they are old and their families think they are useless so they put them out here all day to beg for money.” Wow.  That was just about the worst thing to hear. We also saw mothers holding young babies doing the same thing.  In addition to people begging on the streets, there were so many stray animals running around.  The amount of baby kittens on the streets was unbelievable.   Hassan assured us that these animals are fed by the community but it was still heartbreaking to witness.

I’ve been to many countries where I’ve  seen similar sights.  B has traveled a ton and so she’s seen it too.  We have both seen “worse” but that doesn’t mean what we were exposed to  right then wasn’t sad.  Comparing is probably the worst thing we can do in life.  When we put on the filter of “I’ve seen it worst,” or “This was better when I was there,” it takes us out of the moment of NOW.  Bridget was so sweet while I was upset.  She just said things like “Yeah it is overwhelming to see this,” or “I know that’s sad.”  We talked a lot about how traveling isn’t always for just for “pleasure.”  If it was I would probably be spending this whole year on a island somewhere in the Caribbean.  Traveling is more than just having fun.  (Don’t get me wrong I am having TONS of fun!!) But for me, traveling is also about trying to understand a different place and time. It’s about seeing things that may take me out of my comfort zone, then processing that information and learning from the experience.   It’s about attempting to love our neighbor like we love ourselves even when our neighbor doesn’t look, sound, or think like we do.

That night I would love to say we went out to the square and lived it up.  But we didn’t.  We stayed in our lovely Riad and ordered a pizza (I know I know! But desperate times call for desperate measures.)  We could barely eat the food.  To our credit, we kept saying things like “If  we are going to be sick anywhere this is a good place to be.  People stay in their riads all day just to soak up the ambiance!”)

The next day we packed up our things.  As we were driving to the airport we realized, without a doubt, that everyone in Morocco is a tour guide.  They are a proud nation and the people want to talk about and explain their customs.  The taxi driver kept calling us Jamila and Rashida (after Moroccan goddesses.  Hey, I’ll take it!)  He told us about the informal capitals of the country. Rabat: Political, Fes: Cultural, Casablanca: Economic, Algadir: Agricultural, Marrakech: Tourism.

We said “au revoir” to Morocco and a boarded a plane to Madrid.  We thanked the country for everything it had given us, except the food poisoning.  That gift would continue to stay with us long after we left north Africa.

On Saturday, the day after our great tour with Hassan, we decided to roll the dice with hiring anther tour guide.  This time we wanted to go outside the city to Volublis (Roman ruins between Fes and Rabat,) Moulay Idriss (a holy town at the base of Mount Zerhoun,) and Meknes (a town in Northern Morocco.)

We took a car ride about 45 minutes to the ruins.  This place was pretty impressive.  The Romans know how to do it.  It is comprised of a multitude of “houses” with the location and the size of rooms depending on the person social class.  Lower class at the bottom of the hill with small rooms, upper class up the hill with expansive rooms.  Water was supplied by an aqueduct that ran through the city providing water to the houses and bath houses.  These guys were a gluttonous group.  There were places for massages, eating, drinking, and even troughs to vomit so they could continue their partying without interruption.  I guess this is where a comparison between the Romans and college fraternities could happen, but I wouldn’t want to offend any of my Greek life friends out there!

Next up we drove to Moulary Idriss.  This is a beautiful city a great view from the top of the hill.

Last we went to Meknes.  We stumbled upon this expansive structure that Bridget and I assumed was a castle of some sort.  We started the tour and the guide mentioned something about horses.  We asked for clarification and he stated “Yes, 25,000 horses were kept here.”  Wow, even the horses lived in style.  Next we walked through the markets and visited a mosque.  The mosque was constructed for the visitor to move through different levels to improve meditation.  We were able to go to some levels but only a Muslim person may go to them all.

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