Maldives

This trip’s timing was totally unexpected; it was supposed to have happened a month ago but when July passed without a peep, I gave it up.

But surprise! A week after Morocco, this landed on my lap.

Many people don’t know where the Maldives is exactly. It’s actually in Asia, near Sri Lanka and India. It’s composed of almost 2000 islands, 200 of which are inhabited.

The float plane is a wonderful piece of transport for island hopping. Instead of taking us 4 hours to reach our destination by boat, the trip is magically reduced to just 30 minutes. And the aerial view is really amazing. I discovered the many nuances of the color blue.

We stayed at the Medhufushi Island Resort. The colors of the sky, sea and sand were so crisp and dramatic—so postcard-pretty. A few feet from the shore, we spotted a reef shark and a sea turtle. But most of the time, I was thinking how our own country had just as beautiful beaches. I just wish we took care of them more. The Maldives has a “one resort per island” policy, and implements strict environmental laws.

Everything in the Maldives—from toothpaste to clothes, veggies to souvenirs, are imported mostly from Malaysia. They don’t have manufacturing plants owing to their small territory. Male, the capital, is one of the smallest in the world, and can be toured on foot for just two hours. Aside from tourism, their other industry is fishing. You’ll never run out of fresh sashimi with just a day’s catch.

An Ouarzazate Story

accomodations fashioned after the nomads' tents

Jay and Maey came from their Ouarzazate shoot, raving about gorgeous gorges, camping under the brilliant stars, and eating chicken cooked in tanjin, the traditional Moroccan pot—counterpart of our palayok.

Since Mawj and I arrived two days late and only met them in Marrakech, we were absolutely dying with envy with their Ouarzazate stories. We decided to go there—but we also wanted Jay and Maey to come with us. We knew the experience wouldn’t be complete without them.

But the two were a bit hesitant. After all, why should they spend extra to go somewhere they’ve already been to? They could explore other places or just chill out at Casablanca. But I was adamant. Ang kulit ko, pare. Up until the night before we left, I kept badgering them to join the trip. I used every emotional blackmail tool I could think of—Paano na ang friendship?! Papautangin naming kayo! Minsan lang tayo mag-Morocco, maghihiwa-hiwalay pa tayo?! Looking back at it--- mennn, I didn’t know I had that kakulitan inside me.


Needless to say, they caved in. And in the end, they thanked me for it! Because unlike the scorching heat they had experienced in their first trip, Ouarzazate was cool because of the unexpected rain. We rock-climbed, shouted our frustrations over the gorges, heard our echoes, wrote in each other’s journals, munched on camel barbeque and cooked our own goat tanjin. We marveled at the expanse of the place; it was the land where nomads roamed, pitching their homes from one spot to another. And at that moment we knew how that felt like as we moved from one destination to another, sleeping in transit and in strangers' homes.




There are lots more stories to tell about this place and our whole Morrocan journey and I’ll post them as soon as I get the other photos. :-)

Let’s FEZ it!

The old medina at Fez was my first favorite place in Morocco. The square, stunted structures reminded me of the Greece I saw in magazines and movies.

Inside was a bundle of shops bursting with color. The vendors are friendlier here; they don’t grab or bite. One followed Mawj for about 5 minutes but when she smiled, saying, “No money,” the vendor just nodded understandingly, “It’s okay.” And he just walked away.




We wished we had spent more time here but we only had one day to tour the place. The best part was when our Pinoy guide led us to the top of a building and we beheld this:

The famous tanneries! Like a watercolor palette spread before our eyes, the tanneries are where animal skins are dipped and dyed. When people found out we went here, their first reaction would always be a sympathetic, “It smelled bad, no?” Like hell, it did. But honestly, I almost didn’t notice the stench. The sight was much more overpowering.


For lunch, we had kebabs.



*Photos 1, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8 by Jayhoho. The rest by not a creature was stirring, not even a Mawj.

Marrakech

Jay O's photo

This was actually the first place Mawj and I toured in Morocco. After a brief slumber in Casablanca straight from the airport, we took a train ride early in the morning. We wanted to ride first class so we can have reserved seats but we ended up in wa-class because all the good seats were taken. Correction: ALL seats were taken.

Mawj's photo
Sure, we looked like happy campers here but that was just for show. It was no picnic standing on the aisle for three hours with no air-conditioning. We had to squeeze against the wall whenever the trolley or new passengers came in.



Jay O's photo

We spent the day touring the Djemaa el Fna square. Hawkers are so aggressive that one even grabbed my wrist to force me into his store. They also have the habit of talking just inches from your face. Worse, Mawj and I got lost in the maze of stalls. A teenaged boy kept tailing us and told us to follow him. We ignored him at first but soon, we realized we had no choice. He led us past winding alleys while going around in circles. After several minutes, we finally saw the main square. The teenager demanded 300 dirhams for his service--roughly P1,500! We stood our ground and instead, gave him 3 dirhams. Kurips hehe.


Mawj's photo

At night, the square is alive with snake charmers, food stalls, and all the souvernirs you can imagine--from the exotic to the downright cheezy. Morrocans kept calling out Konbanwa! and Ni hau ma! to us. No one guessed we were Pinoys. :-)


Jay O's photo

We had to constantly watch out for gropers, snatchers, taxis, horses and bikes. They all made their way here, unmindful of pedestrians. But I gotta admit, despite its yucky elements, Djemaa el Fna was a must-see. Everything and everyone was so alive! I could feel the whole square ablaze with energy. I was drawn to it with a kind of fearful fascination.

Morocco

Jay O's photo

My two friends who worked in a travel show invited me and our other friend to tag along in their shoot. We'd pay for our own tickets, food and in-between rides but we could bunk with them in homes of Pinoys whom they'd meet along the way.

Originally, they were going to Greece, which got me all excited. Then it became Madagascar, from which I backed out. Then finally, it was Morocco. I wasn't all gung-ho about it like my friend, but I decided to go anyway because I was aching for an out-of-the-country trip. And though Morocco wasn't in my list of must-sees, it sounded exotic enough.


Jay O's photo

We stayed there for almost two weeks, riding buses and trains, cabs and planes. And as usual, the trips were long--from 5 to as much as 16 hours. During my whole trip, I only slept on a real bed for 2 nights. The rest were spent on the floor, couches or in vehicles. But it's all part of the experience :-)

1st stop: C A S A B L A N C A
I wasn't the type to do research on a country I'd be visiting so I was surprised to find out that Casablanca was actually in Morocco! It was a cute, clean city peppered with cafes that cater to all social classes. A Pinoy told us that just for 8 dirhams (roughly around P40), an out-of-job Moroccan (marami dito ang jobless) could buy a cafe au lait and spend the whole day sipping and people-watching.

We visited the grand mosque. Although Morocco is a Muslim country, it's westernized compared to its middle east counterparts. The men are allowed to have multiple marriages, but they usually stick to one wife for economic reasons.

This is the pigeon park, which they say, is reminiscent of Italy.

We found the above fruit seller near the entrance of the medina. He sold cactus fruit which tasted like kiwi. Enterprising Moroccans are so used to tourists that they demand for money every chance they get. After we took pictures of this dude, he demanded payment.

Then there's the Candolin beach which looked like Miami, Florida with rows of palm trees along the pavement. It was summer there so the beach wass teeming with sunbathers, swimmers...

Jay O's photo

...and wannabe soccer stars. If Pinoys are crazy about basketball, Moroccans are mad about football.

Jay O's photo

Casablanca was our homebase. After a gruelling overnight or balikan trip, we went home to Casablanca. It was where we met and bonded with Pinoys. Mostly we stayed in Edgar's apartment, tucked away in some corner unknown to cab drivers. Because the Moroccans speak French (not English), they couldn't understand us and we couldn't understand them. We had to call our host everytime so he could give instructions to the cabbie. But by the end of the 2-week trip, we learned to utter the words le socrat, rue atabari and post maroc effortlessly and we arrived home on our own.

Every breakfast, we feasted on french bread, croissants, butter, cheese and steaming mugs of Nesquik c/o the ever gracious Edgar.




Mawj's photo

I'll be posting about Marrakech next :-)