Germany- Romantic Strasse

"yeah! roundabout! go around- you have to go Left, right" I have now learned this means turn left. Doing the hire car thing around Germany has been pretty good for us so far. We are cruising the "Romantic Road" which is pretty much a bunch of random highways, dodgy roads and streets linked by little brown signs pointing like minded tourists lacking any real driving skills in the same direction. You can imagine the confusion when theres 2 cars heading opposing directions passing each other on a 1.5 lane wide road half way up a cliff. Lynda kinda got used to it and stopped gripping the roof handle after the first 5 hours.. Well that or her hand gave up strength.

The worst possible bum steer we got the entire trip with the car was probably the rental car shop manager himself with his lecture about how everything of interest in Germany is signposted and we don't need a GPS, so he didn't need to order one in from another store. After I realised my padlock keys were left in the hotel in my hungover packing efforts, we proceeded to spend an hour or two trying to follow train and bus lines back to our accommodation. Actually pretty much for the rest of the day we were cursing the bloke and still are. GPS = valuable. Our closest thing to a GPS so far has been war driving for access points, cranking up google maps on the side of a narrow city street and saving directions.

The first day we pretty much wasted just trying to get out of Munich. We made it as far as the Austrian border by dark, then remembered we had no accommodation at about 9:30pm so headed into an Info kiosk in Reutte to track down someplace to stay. It was funny comparing Germany to Austria- Austria has 100% better country cliff-side roads and 10-15% cheaper petrol. You could tell as soon as you crossed the invisible borders because the road turned from a patchwork quilt to a smooth sealed highway. To get to Reutte was a pretty speccy weaving ride up the Alps, passing by huge inland lakes that had skiing villages built up on the sides of them. It looked pretty cool at sunset too seeing the fog roll in, but then the rain started hammering and visible distance crapped out. I still got tailgated and overtaken by what I guess was locals all along the weaving roads, even going at 20 km/h above posted speed limits. We called a lady at a guesthouse, told her we were coming round and set off. On the way we found a YHA sign, and given it was almost 10pm we just checked in and crashed. This place was awesome- walls about 1m thick, everything made of timber and stone and huge comfy beds. Real coffee the next morning just topped it off.



The next morning we cruised off to Schloss Lindenhof. This is a castle for King Ludwig II of Bavaria (Germany) The bloke was pretty much a nutter obsessed with caves, swans and pineapples. He was king for a little while, before living in solitary confinement for 8 years at Lindenhoff. I thought Lyn was on her diagnosis high horse again when she said he clearly had a mental illness after hearing some of his behaviours. I did have a laugh when the tour guide mentioned he died with his Psychologist in Germany not long after his stint at lindenhoff. No surprise- The bloke refused to see other people (to the point where he had a table that was hoisted up to his dining room so he didn't even have to see servants), changed his daily habits so he slept in the daylight, woke at 3pm, and read books all night, and had caves installed wherever he went. Im leaning towards Paranoid Schizophrenic. Im wondering if a King can have delusions of grandeur though, or would they just be waking moments...

After the country hideout we reckon his family held him hostage at, we checked out his fairy tale castle he had built- Neuschwanstein. Its on the top of a large hill and sports more swans, pineapples and an indoor cave. It took 20 years to build, is still not completed and everyone just chucked in the job when the bloke was found dead. As much as people seemed to not like it back in the day, it put the then ghost town of Fussen back on the map as tourism cranked right up and the population went through the roof. Highlight of the day: Seeing a Mortar and Pestle bigger than Luci's. Yep- its the biggest one I've seen in my life, and now I want one. No stuffing around with a few almonds to make a pesto, this thing could almost eat an almond tree and there'd be room for a chili bush too. The pestle was a good 2m long, and suspended from a rock wall and The mortar looked like a laundry trough.



That night we got into Augsburg to crash. Unfortunately it is close to Munich, so people use it as a base for Oktoberfest, and we had not booked any beds. We got laughed out of town and instead tried for the hostel 40km away in Donauworth. An hour later when we rocked up, no one answered the bell, and we had the same luck after a feed in town of pizza (which crazy Germans eat with a kinfe and fork!). We cruised out of town to crash in the car, and pulled off the road a few minutes out. After I talked Lyn out of sleeping on the shoulder of the road, I cruised up a mud and gravel track for a bit, noticing a few blair witch style things about... The random creaking, thumping and rustling just added to the ambiance.

On Saturday we checked out another Castle, got lost in a completely Walled Village, confused people all the way through a country weekend market, Caused traffic disruptions over the country, pissed off farmers, animals and almost died a few times crossing roads by foot and car. Nothing too special. We did manage to get accommodation at a hostel in Frankfurt though, and after a feed at an Italian restaurant and a few cocktails and cocktail lessons from the barmaid we were both amped to see mattresses and pillows... so much more inviting than a semi-reclined seat in a small hatchback.

Oh yeah- Autobahns. haha.I thought I would wind up the golf that we have hired. I cracked 180 and it was still pulling (like a crippled Moroccan donkey) but in the distance I saw brake lights so slowed down. Further up we got stuck in a killer traffic jam for roadworks, and at one stage I came centimetres from getting wedged between a trucks tray and a concrete barricade. I was counting centimetres between my wing mirror and the barricade, and watching a truck in the right lane I'm trying to overtake inch towards me. about the point his tailgate snaked over the top of my bonnet I hit the brakes- damn I thought it was just Aussie truckies that tried getting sleep in whilst driving. After the slow point I hit the go pedal again and tried for the land speed record. Again at 180km/h I was overtaken as though I was stationary by countless BMWs and Mercedes- I have no idea how fast they were cruising, but Im pretty sure I saw the psycho ginger grin of a wilkinson in one of them flashing past...

Erfurt/Frankfurt

Oktoberfest round two! We hit Erfurt and did a bit of a tour around the town- another large German village built on a river that has the standard deck of cards: a few churches, a river, a castle and some cobblestoned streets and piazzas. Well, that was until we came across the old Domplatz and saw the Erfurter Oktoberfest banner and all the people. We went for a bit of a hike around the ground to check it out- The highlight of the sideshow alley was a huge log ride rollercoaster that ended in an enormous downhill run that slams into a huge pool of water and splashes everyone in the boat. I think this bloke was going to be eating cardboard for dinner again because at the crisp 6 degrees it was most of the day, theres no amount of cold beer that would tempt anyone near that thing.

Back at the hostel we had dinner in the common room and booked some well overdue tickets- Train to prague, accommodation in berlin and prague and a bunch of other things. There were a couple of american chicks there we started talking to that were pretty much doing the same rtour as us, but on a tighter budget. As one of the chicks kept going back to a cupboard stealing someones corn flakes for her dinner she told us how they live on 10 EUR accommodation and 5 EUR food a day. I forgot what it was like to be a student! I spared a thought for them as we looked through the cocktail list in a nicely renovated 600 year old bakery built over the local river.

Erfurt has been a pretty cool stay- as soon as we rocked into town I smelt a familiar smell- burning rubber! Quick as a flash the window was down and I could hear the sweet sound of a roaring V8 in the distance. I drove over to where it was coming from and inside a local supermarket car park saw a crane holding a car in the air with flags hanging off it, so went to see what it was about- Enter the "Super Mega XXL Trucks". We didnt have tickets so just watched the festivities over the fence for a bit, and it was pretty cool. Monster trucks, BMW stunt drivers that spent more time on 2 wheels than on the ground, MX bikes doing stunts... It was like an upgrade of the Crusties. The monster trucks were funny to see- the conversions looked like pretty quick and nasty jobs- one was missing a drivers side floor pan to get the steering wheel linkages to the right angles, and they had no sway bars- just standard suspension travel with enormous leaf packs to control the unsprung weight of the tractor tyres- It would have been as comfortable as driving an airborne brick... or a 1984 Landcruiser troop carrier.

After Erfurt we changed seats in the car and I tried my hand at navigating and Lyn tried the driving- Its was pretty big challenge. Im still not sure how you navigate through a city of one way roads and cobblestones with a map that only shows your town as a pin-dot, but we managed. Outside of Erfurt we hit a town bumsberg for lunch- after finding the cobblestoned main piazza and having a feed in the first patch of sun for a few days we set off for Dresden.

The day before was a trip to Frankfurt which turned out pretty well. We sayed in the equivalent of the West Perth CBD- everything vacated at about 7pm and it became a ghost town. After trekking around town given yet another bum steer, this time by the lonely planet telling us a pedestrian bridge over the river dividing town in half was trafficable by a car, then roadworks shutting down half the city into one-way streets, we started looking for our still unbooked hostel. We gave up on the non-existent lonely planet place and found our own- apparently we were pretty lucky coz the whole town seemed to be booked out with the 2 conventions going on then. We headed out onto the town to see the night life and test the local happy hours and crashed out a little after. The next day we checked out the Jewish museum and got a bit of history on the holocaust and the history of Jewish settlement in the town- Pretty rough stuff. The jews were pretty much society's scapegoat for everything from the plague, high taxes and social problems to foreign debt and trade embargos. It seemed they were either burned, chased or thrown out of town every 200 years, but they kept coming back with new determination. During the holocaust, 10,000 jews of Frankfurt were Killed or commited suicide in desperation, but again they came back after to rebuild and try again.

On the way out of Frankfurt I saw a bunch of market stalls setup and headed in for a closer look. Bad move- it turned out to be the "Run for a cure" fun run and the entire city became a race track of pink- we got trapped pretty bad on a bridge and took ages to get back to the car but it was all pretty cool.

Munchen!

Someone put an angry dwarf with a big hammer inside my head... Maybe it was that crazy German bier wench after lynda beat her in an arm wrestle. After the prohibition we were subjected to in Morocco, we have taken Munich for all it has to offer, and damn its been good. So far Munich is right up there next to Barcelona as one of the favourite stops- though I'm sure a big part of that is due to the contrasts drawn from Morocco's third world stylings.

Coming from Marrakech I had some concern over the customs, but as we had a connecting flight in Madrid, we appeared to come from another EU nation and there is no customs between EU borders here, so it was just pick up the back packs and we were off- relief haha! I couldn't believe the differences from Morocco to the EU that we noticed straight off the bat. The EU appears as though they have actually thought out the layout of things, signage, conveniences and info desks. In Madrid our connection got moved from Terminal 1S, gate 58 to terminal 4, gate 69- That place tripped me out. Everything was new, the signs for directions and flight times were everywhere and everything seemed bright and happy- except for the train operators that were now out of a job with the completely automated underground system they had between terminals. Each terminal was about 5 storeys tall, eco friendly and had all sorts of wierd stuff like floors made of glass so they are skylights for levels below. We arrived in Madrid from Casa and came across a large group that we are still trying to guess what they were- All the guys had the exact same blue carry-on baggage. It gave us a laugh seeing a flock of 100 odd little blue suitcases being wheeled through the zig-zag security queues prior to the screening points. I thought it may have been an olympic team or maybe half the choir from the polyphonic spree or something- Lynda is determined they are a religious cult.

Munich has been great so far- though that may change this arvo after I pick up the hire car for our cruise of the "romantic road" which is not actually one road, but 300+km of black top... We stayed in an etap hotel in Putzbrunn. Its kind of the outer suburbs of Munich. By outer I mean its like the bunbury of perth. The local council did rubbish pickup with a tractor, we are surrounded by corn fields and pumpkin patches and the taxi ride from the nearest main station to our hotel is 17 EUR. We tried the buses to the hotel instead of the taxi- that ended in us hiking a few kilometers down some black forest cum pumpkin patch road after our driver pulled up at a stop, everyone got off and he shut off thee engine and lights. You can imagine our surprise when we saw him drive past us towards our hotel full of people about 10 mins later. I'd have thrown a pumpkin at him, but these things are enormous.

The first day in Munich we headed into the city for one of the New Europe free city tours. These are the best things ever! The one we did in London had a chick that knew her history inside out and was pretty funny to boot. This one through the Munich city centre was no different, and the chick that took us about was pretty switched on- she just graduated uni studying Physics and German Studies- gut feeling says that involves a few pretzels and amber ales. The tours themselves are a great idea- It runs on a tips only basis, so theres no staff/payroll/whatever for the company, and if you are a dud tour guide then you wont get tips from the punters and you'll be hunting for another job pretty soon.

We met up in Marienplatz main square and kicked off the tour. During World War II, 80% of Munich was flattened by bombing, so virtually everything in town is new. There is an existing church that is older than the war, and it has 2x huge towers with domes on top- They were left intact by the western alliance to be a landmark for bombing runs haha. We ran into a couple of blokes from Israel that were on our tour and had a beer with them after at a pub with 6 EUR all you can eat stew and a beer. Yep- there was a 4-way stew off. The only loser that day was the publican- He left the 50 litre stock pot on the bar after a while. The blokes gave us a heads up on what to expect for oktoberfest too- They were telling us about all the injuries they saw. Mostly grazes and blooy faces from drunken stacks, but also gashes from people getting a bit too keen on bashing the 1kg beer steins in cheers.

After the tour we headed for the St Peters tower that looks over Marienplatz. Lyn counted 308 stairs- I lost interest at 11. Whilst up the tower looking over Munich, we saw army and coppers shutting down the Marienplatz square, putting up bollards, fencing, and noticed virtually every single vehicle around was a copper van. Still no idea what that was about. Its elections here so maybe just a public speech or something. Personally, I'd be backing Thalhammer. With a name like that you know he'd be roaming the countryside ruling with an iron fist and dishing out hard justice to his opposition. Just the man.

That night we headed to oktoberfest at about 8pm to see what all the fuss is about. We knew we were getting close by the amount of lederhosen on show, and the blokes that were crab walking around the place. As soon as we got off the train at the oktoberfest station I saw a bloke walking along towards a pillar, and insead of dodging it, all he managed was to turn sideways and slam into it. Good effort. The party starts when the first keg gets tapped by a bloke with a wierd wooden mallet, and from there its 1 litre steins flowing until the keg runs out and another is wheeled off the wagon to replace it. The bar doesnt exist- instead its just hundreds of tables inside tents the size of hangars (some that hold 15,000 people), and beer wenches that serve the punters at those tables. If you are not at a table, you arent getting served. Simple. If you want the beer wench to come back to you, you tip. The beers are 8.30 EUR- easy maths says they are 10EUR including a tip. Thats $17 for 2x pints. Ouch.

The workings of the tents are something else. In the kitchens, there are walls of full height rack ovens roasting sausages, chickens and every other kind of meat you can think of. Kitchens are the size of half a basketball court and theres a steady stream of waitresses with laden platters heading out of there. The stein filling points- I counted 4 of them in one tent, look like a work of art that only germans could pull off so efficiency. Theres things that look like commercial pizza ovens, with a conveyor belt feeding through a big stainless box- The dishwasher. As glasses come out they are grabbed, held under a steady stream of beer flowing from a wooden keg, then slammed onto a big table where waiting beer wenches pile them up and run off with them. Im still not sure how, but each stein is a kilo, it holds a kilo of beer, and the wenches are running around all day, dodging drunk clowns while carrying up to 10 of these. Impressive! We pissed off one of the wenches when we sat down at a reserved table to try and get served. "Helga" was not one to be messed with- we ran away quietly and she didn't crush us with her monstrous man hands.

After the first scout of oktoberfest, we set aside the entire next day to worship the amber ales and headed into the party at lunch. It took us a while to find someplace to sit to get served, and I was struggling to find any english speaking people but not long after that we were sitting amongst a group of aussie blokes and girls and everything was cool. Ollie, a bloke from Sydney went a bit hard for breakfast, and after 5 beers did his impression of Wilko's worm and then ejected his stomach lining as we all bolted. It was a pretty funny start to the day. Security rolled around a few minutes later, and with practised finnesse the wenches had a few steins of sawdust on the floor and the group that had that table reserved 10 minutes later were none the wiser. We were on the lookout for sawdust from there on.

After stein number 4 and the jagirs the birds from Tassie insisted on it all gets a bit hazy, as do the photos and bank balance. We met some great crew from all over the globe- UK, US, Aus, Denmark, Switzerland, Italy, Russia... Got a fair few travel tips and had a fat night. This gig is definitely something I'll be back for. I somehow lost Lyn at closing time, arsed up bus numbers and forked out $70 AUD for a taxi home at 2am. Going by my now unhealthy looking wallet, I got through 9 Litres, and it felt like it the next morning too. The lies I was told that "german beer doesn't have preservatives so you dont get a hangover" are laughable- or would be if I could crack a grin at the moment. That buffet breakkie went down a treat and even lynda skipped the jams and was resorting to the 6x different flavours of meat spread that the hotel offered for breakkie. Lyn's been trying to talk me into driving to denmark to watch the Copenhagen FC after meeting a couple of the players last night. Maybe after we hit some cafes in amsterdam...

Get me the hell out of Morocco

"Saturn, the law of cause and effect challenges you to be orderly and coherent. If you ignore obstacles or failings, the cosmos will demand repayment". I reckon they deliberately put that star sign in the Iberia air magazine for us. Pissed off and now poorer is a bit of an understatement.

I booked our flight with Iberia from Casablanca to Munich a few weeks back, paid it on credit card and it was all sorted. We got rolled on prices because we left it late, and couldn't change Oktoberfest accommodation bookings to cut down the airfares. I also thought our tour of Morocco ended where it started- in Casa, so booked the flight from there. By the time we were told by our travel agent we wind up in Marrakech it was too late to change- no big deal though. We stayed in Casa for a night in the youth hostel and although there wasn't alot to do in Casa, we met some pretty cool Aussies- A couple of chicks from Syd- one a zoologist doing some bird banding and the other out on holidays and a mum from Melbourne who is half way through a 5 month round the world trip. Given the lack of nightlife in Casa we just sat around and chatted till bed time.

The next morning we missed the 8:07 train to the airport by a few minutes so jumped on the 9:07 one- cutting it fine for a 10:55 departure. We got into the airport at 9:45, closing time for check in was in 10 minutes... close call. What didn't help our time situation was the signs to terminal 3. We have now learnt that although in most countries a down direction arrow means down stairs or behind you and an up arrow means straight ahead or up stairs, its arse-about here in Marocco. After going from downstairs to upstairs, terminal 1 to terminal 2 and repeat, we learned the sign system. The down arrow above the escalators means keep walking. Nice.

We get to check in as the flight is closing, and we are then told we don't have tickets. I whip out the reservation number and the laptop with the flight confirmation and I'm told "This reservation is cancelled" I'm mystified- It says confirmation on it about 6 times, shows my credit card details and says paid but apparently its not a ticket and we cant get on the plane. We end up running with the bags over to the Iberia ticketing desk and getting charged more than we ever thought- I think there were a few hundred dirhams tip for them coz the amount we were charged doesn't appear on the receipt, then we run back to the check in where we are told the flight is closed and we cant get on. You can pretty much see steam coming off our heads now, and we are trying not to snap- The next flight out to Munich is days away- There goes a grand in Oktoberfest bookings.

After some radio calls by the staff we get checked in with our gold-plated tickets and we start the security shenanigans. Somehow I get a passport checker that has to have a conversation to his mate after each letter he writes on my customs declaration. After he has discussed the practical impossibilities of perpetual motion devices with his buddy I get my stamp and proceed to the frisking of a lifetime station. Once I have taken off my shoes for him and they have passed his x-ray scanner I have his nod of approval (I guess he's and etnies man, not DC's) and we can proceed to the plane. We are the last ones on, and furious as we are, damn its good to be out of there. Saturn can get bent for all I care.. Shit I shouldn't tempt fate- I hope our bags made it onto the plane.

Marrakech Express

I thought the shady parts of western society were banned in muslim dominated countries, but apparently I am wrong. Its more a case of those who can afford the vices get them. Eg: Night club entry in Marrakech is 150-300 Dirhams ($30-60 AUD) and after that although its expensive, booze is right behind the counter. Same situation with casinos and as we found last night- the common Skimpy (Although here they are mixed with a splash of culture and called "Belly dancers").

As it was the last night of our tour group around Morocco, we did the petit taxi run from the hotel and headed into a swanky restaurant towards the back of the medina. On the way Lyns cab was hit by a rock from a street rat and it cracked the windscreen- I keep thinking how the movie Aladdin romanticised street rats and made them out to be like tarnished gems. Nope- they are on par with your humble suburban bogan and about as welcome as a cat with a dead bird in its mouth. Anyways- more about getting offered stolen phones later. I went in the last cab with Amanda the group leader and after 10 mins of trying to flag a cab by standing in the middle of a 6-way uncontrolled intersection in the CBD we were on our way to meet the rest of the group.

The restaurant had a menu like most of the other Moroccan places- Targines (an earthen camp-oven), couscous (student equivalent of horse chaff/yellow coloured Deb), pastillas (a pastry bun with almond cake and poultry filling), Pates (Pasta), Poisson (Seafood) and the random assortment of morrocan/French salads. The only difference was the price. Where we paid 6 Dirhams for a Harira for lunch, it was now 95. Where I paid 25Dh for a pastilla, it was now 115Dh. Corona was 65Dh ($12AUD) ouch. Lyn was scraping the coinage together so asked for a mains salad. Our corner of the table lost it laughing when she was served up 3x upside down tomatos on small discs of mozzarella and paid 100Dh for it. Bon apetit indeed. It also came out at entree time, so we figured the waitress couldnt speak english- that was shot down when lyn asked to change to a salad with salad and not just whole tomato and she got a straight out no. After the third bottle of rose between us though no one really cared.

When the belly dancers came out it was pretty cool. There were 2x fit chicks doing the belly dancing, and another was doing similar, but she had a whole damn tea cozy on her head! Everything from the kettle to a dozen candles, all on a huge silver platter balanced handsfree on her noggin while she grooved it up! We were left wondering if she got to know all the crew of the local fire brigade when learning that talent. The 2x belly dancers progressively came through and grabbed the hand of a couple blokes on our table- Dan the UK based Kiwi drafty and Brian the retired Pom. The guys both gave it their best in a dance off against the belly dancers but didnt quite have the shakira moves needed to nail it. They did find their match though with Alex, the 43 year old Swiss director/fitness trainer/retired professional dancer. Before the bikini clad chick knew it, she was being twirled, waltzed and strutted all over the place- In a blur of sequins and swiss finesse it was over and everyone was clapping. Next it was my turn to shine, and I warmed my jazz hands I guess she saw she was out of her depth and went for the lap dance instead... wtf? Actually I think thats what every other person on the table was thinking too.

After the festivities we headed outside to taxi it home, but it was a pretty nice night so 6 of us decided to hoof it back. We somehow picked up a few street rats on the walk and couldnt shake them. After they realised we were all pretty much walking down the street with a hand over our back pockets, they tried selling us some of their stolen merchandise (or maybe Im just stereotyping and this 12 year old and his friend both sold nokia mobiles without chargers for a living). Earlier that week some of our group had their backpack opened and cameras and wallets nabbed all while walking down a street, as well as a little kid walking past lyn that tried to nab her bracelet when he passed... After another 10 minutes of us ignoring them they found some other tourists to latch onto and we were free.

I wasnt sure how the tour would go here, especially after the piss poor effort that topdeck put on for us at organising tomatina, but this was awesome. Great people, a good mix of activities and travel, good accommodation, great guides and the whole thing was well organised and planned- Id definately go in for another one with Imaginative. It was pretty sad seeing the whole thing wind up this morning but we had other stuff to worry about- like where we were going to sleep in a few hours. We packed our backpacks, with new additions of a Jalaba, fez hat, mini targine and spice shop souveniers and headed to the medina. The first place we hit was 150Dh for both of us for the night so we were laughing. It has character- theres a section on our third floor that is about 3mx3m of bent and buckled mesh on the ground that you can see down to the ground floor on. Im still building up the confidence (Stupidity?) to walk across it.

My mission for the day was to complete my insurance claim today for my camera. shop 1- print the claim form, shop 2- copy the police report, then the copier breaks. Shop 3 (Poste Maroc)- Buy stamps, they dont sell envelopes or have a copier, Shop 4 (Newsagent)- buy an envelope, Shop 5 (Print shop)- photocopy the claim. Im left on the last 2 steps- print my certificate of currency and find a mailbox. Easy! oh... they dont have mailboxes here? wtf.

Had a pretty decent day of shopping yesterday- We left the medina with happy chants of "Bloody tourist!" Its how they show appreciation. I have been told about 20 times that I am a berber (The tight arsed brothers from the atlas mountains), Im just happy to be fitting in. In appreciation I have picked up a Jalaba (Blokes muslim dress) made of cotton for what started at 800Dh and I got to 120Dh. Im guessing by the screaming between the old man who sold it to me and his son that ran the store when he saw how much I paid for it that I got a good price. While we were hot on the bartering trail, our group also went in to battle over pipes, lamps, hats, clothes, jewellery and souveniers. If I get one more store person telling me they have to feed a family at home and that I need to give my "best price" im going to pass on to them my bird flu.

Cheers to my old man for showing us how to break out of wrist locks when I was younger- I used it 3 times in a row on this bloke trying to flog me a fabric hat that trapped me in his shop. I found the whole thing funny so just let it go on- yeah simple things, simple minds. Then he tried the "I have a family to feed" as I walked off. Im reminded of Geoff from Karratha haggling over a price then just paying the higher price in the end coz the haggling is the fun part. They didnt see the humor in it though.

We also caught the snake charmers here in Jemaa Al Fna square in Marrakech, but we pretty much ignored them the whole time. To sum it up, they buy a cobra, drug it to make it docile, stitch its mouth closed and then take it out onto the street to make cash from photos. The thing dies in a few weeks and they get another. They have pretty much eradicated most of the snakes from Morocco and have to resort to importing from India and Egypt. I dont know much about the blokes dragging little monkeys on chains through the square, but they seem to be incessantly scratching fleas so we dodged those too- I get my share of bugs each night. On a good note though, I found musk and amber from the spice shops can stop the burning of the bites, so now I smell like a bloody scented candle.

Dinner the other night was in the square- As it started bucketing down we went in for a sheltered seat. According a spruiker out front of a scaffolding tent made of garbage bags and twine it is "Five star, air conditioned, very fast" how could we resist? Later we found Five star referred to the brand of forks (the knives and spoons were all different brands), air conditioned was the lack of walls, and im guessing very fast is how they run when the health inspector pops up. I went for aubergines entree and pigeon pastilla, but somehow after ordering the pastilla twice in an hour it still didnt rock up. Pigeons are hard to find in a rain storm! The blokes there were a good laugh though- the plastic roof sprung a leak above our group and quick as a flash our resident bob the builder spruiker had a strip of plastic bag wrapped around the scaffold and saved the day... 3 times. Keen as I was on the Lamb's head, the rancid fat in the lamb lyn got put me off... not to mention made a few of the crew crook the next day. I guess my absent pigeon pie was a blessing in disguise- As if I need any more bird flu anyway! These coughing fits I get at all hours are driving me nuts.

Well we just heard the call over the mosque PA's to signal the end of daylight and the beginning of breakfast for Ramadan, so its high time for some tucker. As much as the lightning storm looks awesome as a backdrop, the hammering rain isnt looking to promising. Maybe this can pass as my shower instead of having to use the no-doored ensuite we have in the hostel we are in- win win! By the way, toilets flush clockwise here- someone go check what they do in the southern hemisphere for me!

Fez!

My only clear memory so far is a bloke in the middle of a crazy Medina (a market the size of a city) that could spin the tassel on his fez hat while clapping 4 castanets at the same time. He looked like a giraffe with a rubber neck and sounded like a cymbal bashing wind up monkey. I'm so tempted to buy a fez hat- actually theres a mission for tonight.

We started our stint in Fez with a taxi ride from the traino to the hotel. I don't need to tell you about the traffic here- lets just say the Mexican chick in the front seat was laughing hysterically when we almost smashed for the third time, the driver had to lock it up and the car that was going to pass after we moved locked it up to stop from hitting us. Apparently drinking water in front of fasting Muslims on the train is frowned on and Allah was letting us know. I was having a laugh coz I know how solid the 1910 Mercedes we were in is- This tank would have made the titanic look like balsa wood.

After we got in to the hotel we got sorted, I stole some clowns wifi and we headed out for a stroll on the town. We headed back about 19:30 for a dinner with the whole group at a local cuisine place. I got a set menu- Harate soup, Couscous Royale and Gateaux Moroccain (sounds fancy- looks like 4x Biscuits). We are lucky enough to have a bar in this hotel that has beers for only $20 DHS ($4 AUD so you can guess where the groups meeting point is each night and for each outing.

On Tuesday morning we headed out with our guide Hafeed to a mosque built in the 12th century, had a quick trip up some of the lower atlas mountains for a view of the town and then off to the old medina. The old medina was built in 808AD and celebrated its 1200 year anniversary in May. There is 350,000 people that live in there and that is aside from the schools, unis, commercial areas and all the other facilities that exist in there. Like all the other medinas, it is surrounded by a fortified wall and the entry is narrow gates. This one is unique in that it does not have anything wide enough for a car- it is all donkeys and carts. After the warnings from the guide- When we hear "Allack allack!" you need to press up against a wall or become a floor rug for an express donkey. I thought he was joking, till one fat arse donkey slammed me against a wall.

Within the medina there is the usual maze of streets with virtually no right angles, but this one has defined districts of things like: Silver/Bronze/Gold/Metal smiths, Woodwork, Tannery, Tailors, Weavers, Spices, Fruit and Veg, Meat and Poultry... Each has its own style, smell and setup. Without a guide we would have walked past the Harem setup areas without knowing we missed anything. The harem design is basically everything opening inwards- on the outside just plain walls. Inside, a central courtyard that is a flurry of activity. The entry to the weaving district was a doorway in a wall that was about chest height. The Tannery was a doorway that went straight to a staircase that weaved around to overlook the colouring pots-all Very well hidden from the outside.

The tannery was the biggest surprise- after a few stair cases we were handed a sprig of mint. I had no idea why until I was choking on the fumes coming off the place. We were 3 storeys above the pots and it was still overwhelming. They use Lime to bleach the hydes and it smelt potent even from 100m away. To see blokes running and hopping over pots from one corner of the yard to the opposite whilst carrying a full donkey load of leather blew me away. At the end me and lyn got abducted sold leather jackets. We both arsed up the conversion rate big time and when we corrected ourselves and our offers there was a heated argument with our guide, he slammed the jackets down on the sales desk and we high tailed it.

After the Medina we checked out a Ceramics factory that produced from scratch mosaics- The clay, Tiles, Mosaics and the furniture they are set in. It was pretty cool seeing how they actually do them. To get them flat they build them face down on a concrete floor, then put a mould around the outside and pour concrete onto them and let it set- A bit different from the way we have gone with cutting tiles and sticking them onto a surface. We saw a potter in action making bowls- The bloke took about 1 minute to crank each one out. We also saw a bloke cutting tiles by hand and saw the mountain behind him he had already done. I'd have been looking for a new job before my first million.

Wednesday we jumped a bus for a tour of the Roman ruins of Volubilis and the city of Makinez. Volubilis was pretty cool- it was leveled in the Lisbon quake of 1755 and looted from there so theres not alot, but theres still some huge mosaics intact and you can still see some of the engineering and architecture that went into the place. Plumbing and running water in what looks like a desert- damn.

Makinez is a bustling city that housed a king (Mullah Iblis) that looted all the other palaces and mausoleums when he came to power to make his own place flash. This guy did everything in big amounts- he had an enormous granary and reservoir to feed the entire city for a year, he had 1200 horses in his stables, 500 wives, 1000 kids, went to war for 23 years... Apparently he died tired- No surprise there.

Back in fez it was high time for another Flag Especial, and then dinner. I'm off to the medina to score a hat, then tomorrow its a 7 hour train ride to Marrakech.

Feznannigans

I got some pretty big daggers from the hotel staff when I blatantly stole a bunch of pastries from the breaffast buffet for the train ride. I dont care- Its a trade off for the one hundred bed bug bites they gave me for free. Mofos. I guess they knew then couldnt stop me as they dont really speak english, and I wasnt going to listen to them anyway so they got back at me the next best way- they packed Lynda's and my bags onto some random tour coach and didnt tell us. Yeah credit where credit is due- they had the last laugh. We had to leave for the traino to go from Fez to Marrakech at 8am, and at 7:57am we wound up brekkie and discovered the old missing bag trick, then we all had a laugh and an ice cream and everyone was happy. Yeah right.. ramadan put a stop to that.

After too long of "Where did you move my bags? they were right here!" and getting back a "oui Messieur, un taxi pour garde de tren" I wanted to bat this bloke with a baguette. We got Amanda our tour leader to speak to them and I couldnt help but laugh when she asked them in french where the porters moved our bags to, and they replied again that yes, they had ordered our taxis to the train station. I wasnt that fussed- Im already recycling socks and am on my last set of clean clothes and had a charged ipod in my pocket for the 7 hour train ride coming up. After a little while though we got in touch with the other tour leader that had our bags on her bus and she turned their coach around and we got the bags back and bolted to the garde de tren, Fez to jump the Marrakech Express.

The night before wasnt too flash either- Lyn came down with a fever yesterday and was in a pretty bad state, not helped by marching through the Volubilis ruins for a couple hours in 35 odd degree full sun. When we got back to the hotel she crashed out well before dinner. I grabbed some tucker and water for her and let her rest for a bit. For dinner our small group headed out to Les Deux Lions - That means "we are the only restaurant open in fez in ramadan" in swahili. I got the plat du jour- the description was a 5 minute french conversation, the aussie translation is a "sheperds pie with sardines instead of meat". Highlight of the dinner was getting into a bottle of moroccan cabernet, during ramadan. I do love a thriving black market trade sometimes.
Back to the hotel and into my bed I had a party with the bedbugs again. Unfortunately I had passed out before their festivities started but from all accounts they had a blast.

I tried to make tea this morning in the room using tap-hot water, a glass and the dried tea leaves I bought to escape the clutches of a spice-mad vendor that trapped me and insisted on rubbing musk and amber on me in their medina store. Needless to say, I failed. The cup looked like a compost heap and the taste was similar to crunchy autumn leaves. As creative as I thought is was and was tempted to use, I held off using an old sock as a teabag. Note to self: teapots have value,

Rabat, Morocco

Our train rolled into Rabat station about 2pm and the tour group scattered to find lunch and a drink. I had high hopes for finding a bottle shop for a 6-pack. Aah Ramadan- We possibly chose the worst month ever to go see a muslim dominated country (99% Muslim, the remainder Jewish and a few catholics). Because the most part of the country cant eat during daylight most cafes, restaurants and sandwich bars have closed completely. The bars though- Well, if there were actually any bars in Rabat, they would be closed too.

I think I have got the hang of crossing these streets now- stare the drivers down as they charge at you, don't make any sign of stopping and hopefully they will swerve at the last minute. It hasn't let me down yet- Ill get the hospital to tell you when it does. After another sandwich effort with the last of the fluorescent mortadella we headed into the old Medina for a stroll.

The old Medina in Rabat is a patch of land that Spanish pirates claimed after being turfed out of Andalusia, Spain and they lived here and continued to plunder passing ships before getting into the slave trade and rounding up their 40,000 slaves. They have effectively turned this part of Morocco into another Andalusian coast- Whitewashed stacked up buildings, piazzas, thin cobblestone streets... We dropped anchor for a bit and knocked back a Moroccan whiskey while overlooking the coast and estuary.

Next stop was the Hussan II temple- All that remains now is a bunch of posts that look like the pinnacles. Theres a tower in one corner that was destined to be 80m tall- until the bloke died and the workers chucked in the towel. It now stands at 50m... or it does now with that extra metal rod poking out the top that they stuck on to make up the 50. On the way back to the hotel we checked out the Medina markets again- stalls lining street after street of genuine "Ray Dans", Okley and G&D. Clothes, fruit and veg, spices, furniture, Bongs and fez hats- The works. Come sunset, the place went nuts and everything closed in the blink of an eye. We walked up a street and by the time we got to the end we turned around and every shop in the Medina was closed- roller doors pulled, blankets over benches, and we seemed the only people left where there were hundreds just minutes ago.

After the Muslims had broken their fast and had their meal we hit a nearby restaurant for a local feed. Harate- a Vego mix of lentil, peas, coriander and egg in soup, Moroccan Salad - Pretty much the topping of a bruschetta on a bed of lettuce, and a Targine Hacceh - Meatballs and an egg in a cumin seed curry. Awesome feed, and at $8 who can complain? We walked the streets for a while after this and found a hotel lobby that sold beer. Score!

Next day we hit the Challah- its the roman ruins of the town and a palace built way back that has since been abandoned. Theres not much there, aside from a battalion of 44 rabid cats (a possible contender against my army of pigeons) and a few local guards. The gardens here are pretty nice- It was about 33 degrees in the sun and seemed 10 degrees cooler in the rain-forest style gardens they have. We could have almost made a fruit salad with the bananas, oranges, mangoes, grapefruit and almonds they had there if they were ripe.

I managed to squeeze in a haircut at a local Medina barber. "Parle vous englais?" "NON!" oh what fun... I think I asked for a trim in french after- The 6 old blokes that hung out at that barber store kept telling my barber in french to chop it all off and pretend its an accident. Clowns. Apparently the barber had already pulled that one on them going by the shine on their chrome domes. Waiting for the train to Fez, the announcement came out in french that it was 30 minutes delayed- Cool- We can make sandwiches. What we should not have done was eat said sandwiches at the traino. The burning eyes of 100 fasting Muslims in that station torched my soul as I slammed down some kind of fish in bread as fast as I could. Eternal damnation for a tuna sandwich- Damn Lyn got a better deal when she got rolled by the old lady she got a bandanna from.

Morocco: Casablanca to Rabat

As we leave our 4 star hotel in Casablanca,, we say goodbye to the fanciest place we will stay this trip. Lucky we got to Casa so early that we managed to spend lots of time in the hotel. With the Spanish or French national basketball team. Who were sooooo tall!! I was so excited, but couldn't speak their language so chickened out of asking them for a game.... or just some pointers for our champions of Division 12 Perry Lakes basketball team. I finally uploaded some photos to Facebook, Benjo downloaded a really crappy TV series, Entourage and in the process crashed out the whole hotel's internet. We noticed that my photos were not uploading, so we walked down to the reception and saw lots of people on laptops becoming frustrated and opening up their wireless connections screen. Benjo felt bad (more over, we wanted to upload those photos!!) so he hacked into the hotel and fixed their internet problems. How nice.

We had a pretty cruisey day on our last day and night in Casa. We met the other people in our tour and headed out for a beer. The tour group went to a restaurant with very expensive meals, and as Benjo and I had other things we wanted to spend our money on (booze) we decided to keep walking. So they all bonded over dinner, and we walked the coast of Casa. It was really cool. Think of pretty coast line with hundreds of people (mainly young people) who have been fasting all day - now hanging out for cigarettes, food and fun. Well you can find all in bucket loads. The only thing we struggled with was finding the right price restaraunt that sells food and coffee. So many places had great menus, however because it was Ramadan, they have closed their kitchen.

We found a little place that was totally empty, and feasted on a 5 course meal for about $15. Sucks to be the tour group, who probably paid that for an entree. Haha. We win that game. We also got our fix of wanting to have cous cous and a targine. The natural progression after dinner - clubs. Hey, it was a happening Saturday night in Casa, do as the locals do... well we tried. We walked to a few night clubs very hesitantly. In Spain, a night club is a whore house, so we were very cautious, especially as the women seemed to just walk around, whereas the guys were the ones going in and out of the clubs. all of a sudden, we realised what country we were in, and realised that we were so unlikely to find strip clubs and the like in Casablanca at anytime, let alone during Ramadan....so we let our hair down - literally.

We walked into 1 club on the beach, where we were stopped and asked to pay 70Dirhams for entry to an empty club. When we walked off, he came back and begged us to pay 50Dirhams to enter. Even with this very generous discount, the answer was Still, NO WAY. We checked out a few. As the night went on, they got busier and busier and the price got higher and higher. At its peak, we went to 1 place where we were allowed to have a free look (!!). They had white leather lounge chairs facing a stage and a bar at the back of the room. It looked like a set up for a show - but with no show - just pumping music at about 150 decibels.Oh, and we had to pay 120 Dirhams for entry. Screw that. We went to a bar instead. Free entry, reasonable drink prices and comfortable noise level (oh how I am getting old... I can't believe I said that).

Meanwhile whilst we were looking for places to experience the nightlife, about 200 families were trying to drive their cars into the "McDrive" at Maccas. It was crazy. As if MacDonald's in Morocco wasn't already one of the busiest places to go in Morocco (sooooo sad), they also had peak hour at about 11pm at night. They seriously had police guiding cars into their drive through! Oh my Goodness. considering people here are either super poor or super rich, and MacDonald's meals cost about 60 Dirrams, which is about AUS$10... How much was our 5 course meal?? Oh yeah, it was AUS$15. Needless to say the Clinique Obesitie directly acrosss the road from MacDonalds is probably also owned by MacDonalds too. Morocco - so full of surprises.

Before we leave Casa, I just have 1 great story of bartering in another language. Benjo wanted to buy something from a stall in the markets. He offered 40Dirrams, and the guy selling the goods said, "no, no. 35 Dirhams, only". hahaha! I love it. So we didn't feel the need to barter much more with this guy. Oh and on a side note, I drew with Ben in a swimming race!! Although he did beat me in 3 other races.... but I drew him on 1 race!!

Casablanca, Morocco

"You only need to spend one night in Casablanca- There is nothing for tourists here!" laughs the ex tour operator when we tell him our plans for the next 2 weeks. He tells us all the places to go see in Morocco- of which none are in Casablanca, teaches us some arabic, shows us how to cross 8-lane highways and points us both in the direction of hair dressers- Whats with that? Hussan is a bloke in his 40s that was in a motorbike crash and had glass go through his right retina and now he is classed as useless. Theres no social security here, and you still need to pay for treatment at public hospitals so he is in a rough spot. We give him some cash and grab him some food and he gives us a tour for a couple hours of the highlights in Casablanca, like Where he was an extra in the Brad Pitt movie Spy Game, the best place to buy half cow carcases from, and the best hairdresser locations.

Hussan gave us a heads up on some of the more common scams the locals try and pull off around the place, from humble kidnappings to covering you in snakes and charging to get them off you. It does seem that the locals in Morocco are very courteous though, and even the theives will pour you a cup of moroccan whiskey (Tea with mint) as they fleece you. Im kinda hanging out for it- apparently a common one is for a bloke to take you around town, feed you, give you drinks then drive off with your backpack in his car. $5 backpacks and a free feed here I come.

As it is Ramadan here at the moment (a muslim faith event in the ninth month of the islamic calendar) the people here fast and sacrifice during daylight hours (sun up to sun set). Come 7:10pm, the sun sank below the horizon and there was a stampede to the mosques and then the life on the street starts up- People can eat, drink and smoke again and it seems to get turned into an all night affair. After Hussan explained what Ramadan is and what he has to go through, lyn offered to buy him lunch haha. Instead of that he took us to a deli and we got some food $74 DHS ($12AUD) for 2 rolls- that was as much as we paid for dinner for 4 last night. No surprise.. the deli owner hacked up 3 whole new wheels of Edam before we managed to tell him we only wanted a little bit for a sandwich. Furious would be an understatement. Picked up a stick of what could have been anything from polony, pate, salami or ham. Turns out its fluoro red mortadella that has half the red sea worth of salt in a little stick. I need to learn to read arabic or french. I now know "Saucisson cuit de boeuf aux olives" means "Put me the hell back in that fridge"

Last night we headed out with a spanish bloke Jordi and his Czech wife Ika- The aim was to have a beer. An hour later we found ourselves closed away from the public behind curtains in a restaurant sneaking in a local brew. It was brewed here in Casa so I dont know what the fuss was about but we had to stay hidden with the beers. Dinner at the next stop on our wander of town- roast chicken, salad, chips and olives for 4, came to less than what the beers cost. Im not sure about this place.

We have noticed the people here seem alot more content with what they have. Where I see a shoddy built building with no whole bricks, walls on the piss and no straight tiles, theres someone happily mopping the bitumen out front of their home. No backyard? Thats cool- the cow can live chained to the front door. We saw and old bloke slugging it the wrong way up a main street, with a wheelbarrow with both wheels busted but he was beaming. You cant pass kids in the street without getting Bonjour yelled at you 15 times. The flags up at the mosque today showed the King Mohammed VI was in residence, and as Hassan told us he almost had a tear in his (one working) eye. The people here love their king- It was funny to compare to Aus where everyone seems to hate or at least whinge about their prime minister who cant do anything right, and to see such a contrast here. This bloke who footed the bill for his own hospial costs, still pays for his medicines, is told he cannot work and will get no financial support from his king is the happiest man around just because his king is close by.

I headed back to the hostel and decided to take my one eyed friends advice and get a haircut. I walked into the place around the corner from our hotel- Its got a picture of a shaggy haired bloke on one side of the sign, then a neatly trimmed head of hair on the other. Hairdresser I figure. I walk in the door, and theres a zig-zag of concrete walls tiled from ceiling to floor... wierd, and the air is damp and humid.. Strange for a hairdresser... I get around a final zig-zag and see a couple of chicks in towels sitting on wall benches and an old lady struts infront of me in underwear. Crap- Must be a wash house or something! As I bolt Im reminded of Hussan telling me that morning that if you slip up during ramadan you will most likely get beaten up by all those around you, and then go to prison for around a month. Just speaking to a woman at the wrong time is more than enough reason for a biffo- I wonder what seeing her in underwear would get. I might just head back to that hairdresser across town he pointed out.

Barcelona to Casablanca

What else to do on September 11 but spend the day on a plane! We had the earliest start yet since we arrived into Barcelona- wilkos alarm went off at 6:30 am and after he hit snooze 8 times it was all go. I feel kinda sorry for the chick that shared the room with us- We only wound up at the pubs and headed home last night at 3am then woke her up again as we packed our stuff this morning, did the shower runs and left. I almost shed a tear when I binned the half bottle of vodka on the way out- or I would have if It wasn't $3.75 at the local supermercado. After slamming downn our chunk of bread hostel breakfast we had to bolt to the airport shuttle and after the driver almost crashing (yeah- more than a close call- all the passengers hit the brace position) we jumped on our clickair flight to Casablanca.

Yesterday started off well- We all met up in an Internet cafe pretty early and by the time we finished arsing about- Me and Lyn booking Casablanca to Munich, Wilko booking Barcelona to Glasgow and Marco and Matt booking Barcelona to Nice it was after noon. Marco and Matt hadn't seen Gaudi's Guell Park so we headed there and gave them an intro to the steps and hills that surround Barcelona. I swear we climbed Jacob's ladder 10 times over that day, and that's not including the 15 odd outdoor escalators. After about 3 solid hours of steps we had to hit a pub for a drop of the local and back into it to check out Park Tibidabo- Barcelona's adventure park on top of the tallest mount there.

At its peak is a huge chapel that Walt Disney based his Disney castle on. Getting there was a bit of a mission- train to tram to a winch pulled car up the last stretch with walking all in between. The view at the top was well worth it though. Highlight of the park- A motorised display of a french execution- Theres a priest that does the happy dance for a minute, then a guillotine chops a blokes head off and it falls into a basket... wtf. Maybe the next attraction at adventure world.

We jumped the last tram back down the mountain and it was packed- as I was pushing through tourists to get on I accidentally discovered the floor button for the tram bell. We then continued to accidentally discover it the rest of the ride down- Im kinda surprised the conductor didnt stop the tram and boot us off. Maybe he was too busy dodging the ambulances screaming up the 3 lane road that had 4 lanes of traffic as well as the tram lines and scooters.

After our failed effort at the Magic fountain the night before (Closed at 11:00- we rocked in at 11:20) we were determined not to miss it again so the bunch of us wolfed down a dinner of plato del dias- I grabbed a veal cannelloni with a Roast Rabbit chaser- awesome stuff. The Plato del dias is your selection of a first plate, second plate, desert (postre) and drink (bebida) from a menu for a set price. We were told it came with a small beer so when asked if we wanted a big beer we all went in for it- No one was expecting the 1 litre steins that came out though- A good warm up to Oktoberfest.

We got to the fountain with 2 minutes to spare. when nothing happened for 5 mins we checked the times- doh. The last show on Wednesdays is 21:00, not 23:00. We wandered off up another fine display of Spanish steps towards the Palacio de Espanya where there was a big collection of people out front. We ended up finding why they were out front. "Man Ray" and "Picabia" had exhibitions on. I had my doubts when I saw it was sponsored by Tate modern. I don't want to ruin it for you for when it comes to a town near you, but: (brace yourself) A cuttlefish in a bird cage with sugar cubes, A miniature urinal, A full sized urinal, a straw broom, a bicycle wheel stuck to a wooden stool... Incredible.

After that joke we figured we'd reduce ourselves to the artist's levels and hit another few of our locals at the other end of La Ramblas. Last count was 6 fine establishments and come 3am, we figured 4 hours of sleep was all we needed and headed for home. Just to be different, The second last place we hit was another Aussie themed pub- playing the English soccer league on the big screen, with nothing but English punters at the bar. I tried to fit in by ordering a round of fosters but got slapped upside the head and told to change to Stellas as soon as Wilko and Matt heard me.

We just got off the Marrakesh express to Casablanca, Morocco. Leaving the Barcelona airport we had to get shuttled to our plane from the terminal- It felt like a 2km walk from security to the gate, then after we got through the boarding gate the bus drove us past aisles of parked up planes awaiting departure. There were over 100 check in desks and we were gate 58 of god knows how many- Busy place! Me n Lyn are looking through the lonely planet book at local phrases of French-Arabic... I think We are in trouble. I dont understand you: "mafhemtsh" Do you speak english? "wash kat'ref negleezeeya" haha... Hashish is still the same word though- That doesn't surprise me. I'm trying to beat my record of 2 days in a town before I get offered.

After we landed we checked through customs, got our passports stamped to void them (he stamped the last page, and you cant go backwards pages for subsequent stamps, so they are technically useless now) and hopped on a train to Casa city. Theres no station signs so we chanced it at the second station and had a win. 5 seconds after getting off the train we were in a 1990's Fiat/barina cut and shut special with no door rubbers, seat belts or reverse. I considered jumping out of the taxi to help the bloke push it out of his car park, but after seeing us almost get rammed I decided to just go for the seat belt... crap- nothing there- not even an empty bolt hole.

We managed to get to the hotel alive- Damn I thought Spain traffic was bad! We were saluted the entire way with a chorus of horns, other cabbies I thought we were going to ram with our demo derby mongrel car just waved or gave our driver directions. I like their game here- If you see someone on a zebra crossing, you cut it as close as you can to them at speed. For double points, you try and run over their ankle. If you have to stop to avoid killing them, you lose. For turning at road intersections, just picture a game of frogger, but instead of logs and alligators there is pedestrians, mopeds, some kind of wheelbarrow on steroids, trucks, cars and demo derby taxis all weaving between each other and trying to turn out of the 1-lane island refuge at the same time.

I figure our taxi's horn and indicators were as broken as his gearbox because the driver never even tried to use them. It didn't really surprise me the brand new mercedes 4WDs on the road gave us right of way when our driver swerved into their side to hit them. I almost did a ghostie though when he started driving on the wrong side of the road, and pulled out in front of a small truck on a blind corner to pull into our hotel.

Barcelona

Its no surprise this is Lyn's favourite place- Theres Miro and Gaudi works everywhere from the public facilities buildings to random posts in piazzas and parks. The theme of mosaics seems to have rubbed off a bit on everyone and theres mosaics on everything from roof tops of sky scrapers to pot plants on the street. We have found miro's stuff all over the place in things like the Caixa bank logos atop most of the skyscrapers in town, work set into the pavement on the Ramblas and in huge sculptures around town.

The hostel we are staying at is a few metres from Las Ramblas- Its called the street that never sleeps.. Yep I can attest to that now. From 8am its a family market and little cubes that we thought were for utilities unfold like transformers to become pet shops- Everything from Tortoises, Porcupines, Iguanas to the usual Fish, Snakes, cats etc... From about noon the tables and chairs are out and theres waiters running infront of the city traffic ferrying drinks and food from their restaurants to the diners in the mall. Come night time the "allied tradespeople" are out in force- (they seem to be drawn to wilksy and no one else for some reason) and the bums on the street are now entrepreneurs flogging cold cans of beer to anyone. Their choice of esky - random public bins, makes you hesitate for a second though. All in between this, there are street performers, artists, actors, elaborate costumes and all other sorts of vendors.

Trying to get lyn through the pet shop area of the Ramblas was like taking starving kid to a candy store. I gave up trying to move on after she discovered the moving mountain of iguanas all trying to get ontop of each other at the same time. That stuff was about as entertaining as the human pyramid going for the greased pole at tomatina. On the way out I picked up a bag of budgie feed and we headed to the bus stop to do some bog laps of town centrelink style. To get to the station we had to pass through Plaza Catalunya, with its 6 billion rats of the air scattered about. Me and wilko still had a pumping hangover and looked pretty sad and sorry- That is until the bird seed came out. Black clouds of bird flu wherever that seed went- It was a pretty good laugh.

Onto the bus for some laps of town and we jumped off for a tour of the Segrada Familia which is a huge cathedral still under construction about 100 years after first being started. Gaudi designed it and after his death they started construction- Its pretty impressive already and its still being built. For lunch we hit a Syrian restaurant and got another Platos del dias- Thats seriously the way to go here for meals hey. You choose a first and second course from a list of options then you get a drink and desert as well for 8 to 10 EUR. Bargain!

We found an aussie pub a few blocks from us last night and headed in for a quick beero. After being in there for about 10 seconds, the novelty wore off and we realised it was another soccer rioters hangout. In hindsight I guess we should have pegged that by the amount of spew out front. We knocked back the fosters and were back on our way after a few minutes. Lyn had a chat to a Melbourne couple that were out front- They were complaining about the breakfast provided at their hostel- poor buggers were fed crossiants, bruschetta, cereal, coffee, toast... I feel like a king now dining with our half roll and rationed orange juice each morning.