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