You know that movie, Snakes on a Plane? I’d like to do a re-make called Babies on a Plane except that my movie will actually be frightfully scary and realistic. The synopsis would go something like this…
When a young man (Nathan Phillips) witnesses a brutal mob murder, it falls to FBI agent Neville Flynn (Samuel L. Jackson) to escort his charge safely from Hawaii to Los Angeles to testify. But in an act of self-preservation, the crime boss facing prison strategically places bad parents with bratty kids onto the commercial aircraft, specially timed so that halfway over the Pacific, all of the babies and toddlers are uncontrollably screaming in unison. Flynn, along with a frightened flight crew and passengers, must then band together, in spite of nosebleeds and pierced ear drums, in a desperate attempt to survive. The question remains. Will they?
And that pretty much sums up the return portion of my travels from Europe. Honestly, though…they should give parents and kids a test before they let them on the plane. If they can’t play nice and shut their kid up in a reasonably quick amount of time then, I’m sorry, they are not allowed to fly and piss-off scores of passengers simply trying to catch a wink. I love kids, but not mis-behaved assholes with parents to match. Can babies be assholes?
With most all flights overbooked these days, it is inevitable that there will be a baby or a young child on board. What I don’t understand is how the only little people who fly, it seems, are actually beasts, capable only of brutish grunts, monsterous roars and screams in pitches only dogs can appreciate. I haven’t encountered one nice young child who is pleasant and cute and adorably silent. And my luck has been not only to have these little shits on my flights, but then to be seated way-to-close to these freaks of nature. I want to toss them out the window. Or place them in the dog-carrier cages and put them in cargo. Or allow the parents to give them a shot of brandy to knock the kid out for the flight. Perhaps there is a dog muzzle which can be adapted for kids?
Who’s with me? ;p
I’m at home today packing for another trip. It’s a bit of business and a bit of pleasure. I first go to Berlin for the annual ITB, a travel trade show. I have a lot of appointments with our overseas travel partners, some of which I already know and some who I have not yet met. It will be a busy week.
On the 13th, I have a big day. I’ll turn 40. And to celebrate, I’m headed to Spain! I’ll spend 2 nights in Madrid and 3 in Barcelona. I am most excited. Spain has been at the top of my list for awhile now and while I just had a two week vacation, I am trying to use up a few more days of annual leave before they “expire” in March. Nevermind I couldn’t take them in 2009…but that’s another blog entry.
I have sort of just planned everything at the last minute, actually need to still book my hotel in Barcelona. But for me, this is just a taste of this fascinating place and I really want to do what I normally do when I first land somewhere – take a long walk and just let the city speak to me. Sure, I’ve printed off some materials, some walking tour suggestions, points of interest. But I’m the type of traveler who likes to look a map, get my bearings and then just go. Considering the birthday I am celebrating, I think this will be a fantastic way to enter into the next decade…totally enthusiastically and with terrific hope that there are a lot of great discoveries ahead.
I’ll keep you posted.
I’m not sure I really knew what traditional Moroccan food tasted like. I think I thought there were lots of spices involved, as it is a country which is known for its spices. So call me surprised when I didn’t find the food to be all that flavorful. In all my time there, I had just 3 good meals. The first was at my riad in Essaouira. After eating really bad food at the cafes, (I even tried a pizza one day to have something “normal” and was sorely disappointed. How do you screw up a pizza?) I asked the staff at my riad to prepare dinner for me. That was a good meal. A fresh salad, a delicious tagine, good wine and fresh pomegranate seeds for dessert. Yummy.
The second meal came while on my camel ride in Essaouria. On the banks of the sea, a little man in a tent cooked up the meal you see pictured here. The salad was simply tomatoes and onions. The tagine here is chicken with tomato, onion, olives and a variety of parsley. Super simple and yet tasty. The bread in Morocco is also quite delicious. It’s a round loaf which is a cross between a pita and french bread. Really good.
My last meal in Morroco was at my second riad, my last evening in Marrakech. I also asked the staff to prepare something (I let them choose). I was offered a delcius soup which was similar to a minestrone. Then some couscous with veggies and a baked chicken with onions and such. Also very delicious. I think the common thread to the level of yumminess is that all three of my best meals were home cooked. Not from a restaurant. Even at the glamorous events of the trade show, the food was just so-so.
I’m sure if I did a bit of research and more hunting, I could find some awesome restaurants in Marrakech. I know they exist. I know there are some terrific dishes I haven’t had a chance to try. Again – next year!
Tagine – receives its name from the clay pot it is cooked in. Over the base is a triangular top, all of which is cooked over an open fire. It’s like an old fashion crock-pot! Put all the ingredients in and cook!
With all of the work piling up in my inbox and back at the office, I felt more than guilty to be staring at a few days of “me” time. I nearly changed my flights and returned early. But I remembered with distinct clarity that in the year I’ve worked with Apple Tree, I’ve taken just 2.5 days of annual leave. That fact alone helped me not feel so guilty. I planned for the free time when I booked my flights, just not all the internet connectivity problems in London, of all places. That glitch really threw me out of whack. It did nothing but put me WAY behind in work. I already have enough to do. I didn’t need the pressure of being so behind nor to feel culpable for taking much needed (and deserved) vacation. I stuck with my original plan and took a few days to myself.
As soon as the car peaked the hill and the ocean was in sight, my cares seemed to be swallowed up by the strong breeze from the sea, and I knew I had come to the right place for rest and rejuvenation.
(Borrowing from Wikipedia for a moment)
The present city of Essaouira was only built during the 18th century. Mohammed III, wishing to reorient his kingdom towards the Atlantic for increased exchanges with European powers, chose Mogador as his key location. He directed a French engineer, Théodore Cornut, who had been captured and enslaved, and several other European architects and technicians, to build the fortress and city along modern lines. Originally called “Souira”, “The small fortress”, the name then became “Es-Saouira”, “The beautifully designed”.
The Medina of Essaouira (formerly “Mogador”) is a UNESCO World Heritage Listed city, as an example of a late 18th century fortified town, as transferred to North Africa.
The fishing harbour, suffering from the competition of Agadir and Safi remains rather small, although the catches (sardines, conger eels) are surprisingly abundant due to the coastal upwelling generated by the powerful trade winds and the Canaries Current.
There are only a handful of modern purpose-built hotels within the walls of the old city. The medina is home to many small arts and crafts businesses, notably cabinet making and ‘thuya’ wood-carving (using roots of the Tetraclinis tree), both of which have been practised in Essaouira for centuries.
I found Essaouira to be quaint and charming. It was low season, so there weren’t many tourists, some of the shops were closed, the cooking class wasn’t on due to the major holiday, but I enjoyed fewer people. The weather was splendid, if a bit windy on two of the days there. I particularly enjoyed my long walk on the beach. Nothing like sand between your toes and the sounds of the waves to lift your spirits. Its the San Diegan in me. I will always love the beach. I will always enjoy traveling to new coastlines, dipping my toes in waters all over the world.
Essaouira was just the medicine I needed. I have been so overly freaked out about work, stressed to the max and just not myself lately. That walk on the beach in particular was a chance for me to reconnect with the Shanna I enjoy being. A me that I need to reclaim. Desperately.
If you’re an avid reader of my blog, you’ll know that I love markets. You can tell a lot about a culture simply by taking a good look at life in the markets. You can gather what food people eat, what items they may have in their home, how the locals treat each other, how they negotiate, what people wear, how much English and other languages are spoken and also how touristy the area is or revel in its authenticity.
The souks in Marrakech were fascinating to me because the paths are totally chaotic, it’s noisy, a bit smelly and crowded, except when it’s time for prayer. There’s no real organization save a section where all of the metal works are done. Mosques are found nearly anywhere, but I would be hard pressed to recognize a doorway without a guide. When I walked alone, I was often the focus of attention for my blue eyes.
Moroccan men are not shy, that’s for sure. When they would call after me in French, I ignored them. When they figured out I speak English, a few had it in them to run after me and say, “Madamme, madamme. One question. One question, please.” When I would agree they would ask, “What is your name?” Sometimes I answered truthfully and sometimes not. On one occasion, I went with Maria. After I answered, they would follow with, “Where are you from?” But then I would smile and wag my finger and say, “Nope. That’s two questions. Have a great day.” And I would walk away. This drove them nuts!
Usually when I am in a new place, I love buying treasures which I hope to keep forever. I still have mementos from the Caribbean, Russia, Italy and other trips from long ago. But oddly enough, I didn’t do that much shopping on this trip. Of course I bought some Moroccan shoes – that was fun. A gorgeous red pair, which would normally be worn at a wedding is a pair of shoes I will keep on display somewhere. I bought twenty smaller pair on keychains to give out as gifts to friends and some staff at the office. Other than that – not much else was possible.
I would have loved to have bought a lamp, some pillows, even a carpet. But that’s not really practical with a suitcase packed for a 20 day business trip! If we go to this show again next year, I am definitely planning and packing and shopping way differently! I really like the Moroccan style, particularly what I saw at the 2 riads I stayed in. So next year, Marrakech – look out!
PHOTO: In Marrakech – A cafe in the heart of the medina, at the edge of the Djemaa el Fna.
If there is one small detail I have noticed in all of my travels, there are a handful of foods and beverages you can find anywhere in the world…and I do mean anywhere. These global food items include Coca Cola, M&Ms, Pringles, pizza and an up-and-comer, Mentos.
While it’s sometimes very comforting to find these things in the middle-of-nowhere, I find this really disturbing.