The Atlas Mountains……….

……home of the Berbers extends through Morocco, Algeria and Tunisia separating these countries from the Sahara Desert.
We were lucky enough to have a driver who was a Berber and the day we visited he took us to a weekly Berber Market. This market has been held every Monday ‘forever’ and the men come from villages up to 30km away on donkey, carrying their goods for sale in panniers. The donkeys are all parked in a ‘donkey parking area’. Everything you can imagine is for sale……….chickens (killed and plucked while you wait!)…….veg…….grains…….you can have a weekly shave and hair cut ……and of course the inevitable Chinese plastic goods, which do appear quite incongruous alongside sheep, cows heads and other Berber cultural delicacies.
The villages dotted throughout the mountains are spectacular, dramatically perched above valleys and mountain streams. We visited a typical Berber house where they continue to mill grain in the traditional way. The family were eating lunch cooked in the kitchen shown. Berber women will not be photographed. The kitchen has running water diverted from the mill, trickling through the room and out again into the main river….. most practical.
With a guide we trekked up to a waterfall in the mountains and all the way up were little groups of artisans. We saw young men digging for fossils and rocks containing crystals – we bought a black rock, which comes apart revealing amethyst crystals, it’s extraordinary. We also bought another fossil which took our fancy. Negotiating for a good price when you have absolutely no idea of something’s value is hilarious and we found the traders in Morocco good humoured and really fun to deal with. Goodness knows what we’ve bought!!!!
We would have liked to have stayed for days in the mountains……….wish you were there………..xxxxx

Marrakesh……………

………………the taxi dropped us in the Medina at the edge of the ‘souks’, ……..our cases were put onto the footpath, a young boy grabbed them and we proceeded to follow him, at a pace, through winding dark alley ways! Fortunately we had been forewarned so weren’t as bewildered as we might have been! We eventually arrived at a door in the wall and entered another world. A riad is a haven of peace and tranquillity amidst the hustle and bustle of the souks.
The souks are chaotic, colourful and charming, like an Aladdin’s cave, loaded with every imaginable treasure from the mundane e.g. hand carved spoons to live scorpions! Which we are assured make “charming pets”!!!! The Moroccans are humorous, funny, engaging and bargaining for everything is expected
and fun. Rod has found his niche and has been made an honorary “Berber”.
Venturing out at night is an edgier experience, the ancient shadows conceal touts who tell us the alley we are heading down has been closed and they offer to guide us “safely” to where we want to go. We have developed a strategy of taking bets on how many of these encounters we will have on the way to our destination – usually the night market – our raucous laughter when we are accosted, has a discombobulating effect on the would-be extortionists and so they are starting to avoid us!!!!!!
Because any photography can become a commercial transaction, we have had to develop strategies to enable us to photograph peoples and/or their property while appearing to being focusing on something else.
We frequently eat at the night market which is an exercise in diplomatically choosing where to eat out of over 100 stalls, all desperately working to engage us. Some even talk NZ’ild to us. That is another remarkable thing about Morocco……..people know where NZ is and what it is like, that it is far away and they want to go there………..which is surprising considering many Brit’s think we are part of Australia!!!!!!

Christmas cards don’t lie……………..

…………we have just experienced the most glorious white Christmas, causing chaos and major travel disruptions, but selfishly for us it was incredible. Living in the heart of the Cotswolds, we didn’t have to deal with dirty slush and icy roads. For us it was picture book perfect, all the way.
We were lucky enough to have some of the family to stay. Our location AND a clear blue, sunny Christmas day set the scene.
The local pub opens for a couple of hours on Christmas morning and everyone goes and has a drink while the dinner is cooking. Half the village turns out (with their dogs) and sitting around the fire, having a pint with all the dogs interacting, wishing each other a ‘Merry Christmas’ was probably the most civilised pub experience ever…………really, really wished you were there xxxxx

Vitoria and Bilbao………

………On a recent visit we wandered through a park, adjacent to the Cathedral. The park is very pretty and laid out like a medieval village with mannequins going about their daily lives. We wandered along the paths, piped Christmas music played and it was crisp and cold. Now… I’m somewhat of a Christmas cynic but as we went into a natural cave, there was the nativity. I must admit I had a little ‘moment’.
Vitoria is the capital of the Basque Country in Spain and an affluent, beautiful city/town. Northern Spain doesn’t have a flamenco tradition but makes up for it visually. The thing about Spain though – mealtimes!! As visitors you have a slow start and breakfast, then you think – “ah… a late lunch would be nice” and then notice that all the shops and restaurants have closed and apart from drinks and tapas in a bar you can’t get a meal until 9 pm!! By that time you are ready to eat the table, the waiter and anything else that takes your fancy. I don’t know how we get into this trap time and time again…..slow learners I guess!!!!
Bilbao was different to Vitoria but equally visual. The Guggenheim is there and is the most astonishing building. One of the outdoor exhibits is an enormous dog, planted with annuals several times a year. We asked the concierge at our hotel “why”?
“Oh – that’s Pooopie” he said. We decided that “Pooopie” must have been someone’s famous dog rather like “Greyfriars Bobby”. So off we went feeling quite knowledgeable. We were rather miffed to discover that “Pooopie” actually meant “puppy” and then we noticed that for some inexplicable reason every second dog owner in Bilbao owned a West Highland Terrier…….hence “Pooopie”
Fortunately on our last day we came across a market that was happy to feed us at a time that suited us…….delicious ethnic food – (not the barbeque - although it smelled and looked great!)
We arrived back in the UK in the middle of the night to minus 5, but the thrill of being met by Rory and Katie warmed the cockles of our hearts and now we are looking forward to a “White Christmas” in the company of family. Now that makes sense…………..xxx

Hunting Ban………..

………what “Ban”????? We were invited to watch the local Hunt gathering for the first hunt of the season. Autumn is glorious time in the UK. The colours are unbelievably lovely and living in the country is a privilege. We wandered through the village to watch the ‘hunt’ prepare and depart. Part of the preparation included eating sausage rolls, roast potatoes and drinking large wine glasses filled with port or very generous tumblers of whiskey. I suppose ‘drink driving’ doesn’t apply to hurtling through the countryside, leaping over dry stone walls on the back of a huge hunting horse!!!!
The hounds were amazing………terribly excited……baying, sniffing, rolling and totally unfazed by the horses, onlookers and their dogs on leads and the general mayhem! Of course those that ‘hunt’ are the ‘gentry’ and when they speak it’s in terribly loud jolly tones contributing to the overall cacophony.
At a certain point the Master of the Hunt (him in the red coat), blew his horn, the dogs pulled themselves together, all pointing the same way, stood to attention and off they all went. Those of us remaining (the non-gentry….aka ‘villeins’) marvelled at the whole spectacle and went back to work humming “Do you ken John Peel” ………………wish you were here…………..xxxxx

Aswan…………

………we sailed from Luxor to Aswan passing through the Esna Lock. As the boat was waiting to go into the lock swarms of boatmen came alongside urging passengers to buy their wares. The traders throw their goods up onto the deck of the boat with demands to buy, shirts, scarves, galabeya etc and these were landing in the swimming pool, on tables, back in the water – it was chaos, the air was filled with hurtling merchandise. I retreated down to our cabin. As I unwittingly turned on the light, goods were hurled into the cabin through the open window! I hurriedly stuffed them back out of the window into the boats below and slammed the window shut. Shopping is not a pleasant experience in Egypt, there is no chance to “look”. You are hassled and pestered if you even so much as glance at something (and even if you don’).
The temples and ancient sites are a completely different experience. You do have to run a short gauntlet of sellers, but once inside the only thing you have to be aware of is Egyptian men lurking behind pillars waiting to step into your photograph and then demanding appearance money! However the magnificent and sense of ancient presence is over whelming (or maybe it’s the 45degree heat!).
The Aswan High Dam was built in the 1960’s, flooding ancient Nubian villages, but the resulting increases in agriculture production and hydroelectricity have saved Egypt from famine. Lake Nasser is approximately 200 meters deep, which is as high as the Auckland Sky Tower. We visited a Nubian village and were nearly run down by boys on camels racing down the road to check out the local football match, which they watched over the fence from their camels stand.
There is a timelessness about Egypt which is captivating, however the contrasts and contradictions of wealth and poverty, the clashing of ancient and modern, the invisibility of local women dressed head to toe in Purdah against the scantily clad tourists make it a very complex experience.

Luxor........

…………was the beginning of the Nile Cruise for us and it is a perfect way to see Egypt. You are cocooned in the relative comfort of a floating hotel and can view the Nile as it’s been for thousands of years. Some hardy souls ‘do’ the Nile in ancient feluccas which look very romantic, but in temperatures of 45degrees, no loo’s and dodgy food, we decided prudence was the better part of valour. Our boat was very comfortable. The cabin staff did our room twice a day and each day folded our towels and extra blankets into hilarious ‘art works’.
Nobody was constantly asking us for money….. (tips were paid in a lump sum to be distributed at the end of the cruise……civilised!). We had trips each day to major sites along the way, accompanied by an Egyptologist, these were fantastic, but it was always good to come back to the air conditioned boat and a cold drink
Luxor depends on tourist trade and is rapidly resurrecting ancient sites – it is currently uncovering an 3 kilometre “Avenue of Sphinx” linking the temples of Luxor and Karnak. The avenue had been previously covered and subsequently built over. The down side of this is that the people living in the buildings along the site area were given no consultation and 2 days to clear out before the bulldozers demolished their homes with little or no compensation. The missing Sphinx in the Avenue have been commissioned to be rebuilt in China! ????????? What can you say………………