Quick Update

After a few lazy days in Budapest, I took a couple overnight trains - one to Bucharest and then the next day/night to Istanbul, where I am now! My train rides were generally uneventful, except that I read the wrong time for the Bucharest to Istanbul train and showed up at the station about five minutes before it was scheduled to leave. This wasn't a problem, except that it resulted in me leaping on an 18 hour train ride without any food, and I hadn't yet that day. (It was around noon). Finally, at nearly 7:00, I was beginning to have those cartoon character hallucinations about random people/objects turning into plates of food, and luckily was able to procure food from one of the stewards. It was the best instant soup and instant mashed potatoes I have ever eaten, and carried me through the rest of the train ride, including disembarking at 2:00 AM at the Turkish border to go through border control. Once I arrived in Istanbul, I gobbled down some McDonald's and headed for my hostel, where I am now. I plan to do some sightseeing and eat lots of Turkish Delight tomorrow!! (Mmmm, Satan's candy...)

Elegant Granada and a Day in Madrid

After a beautiful day in Essaouira, Scotty and I had a long haul back to Spain. From Essaouira, we took a bus to Marrakesh and then hopped on an overnight train to Tanger. From Tanger, we had the most terrifying taxi ride of my life to the port, where we caught a ferry to Algeciras. Once in Algeciras, we caught a train to Granada, and rounded out this two-day sprint with a taxi ride to the hostel.

The next day, we went to see the Alhambra, an UNESCO World Heritage site and one of the main attractions in Granada. The Alhambra is a sprawling complex which was built in the 1300s by the Moorish rulers of Spain and has a fortress and palace in addition to many other buildings. I had heard that the complex was very beautiful but was not prepared for the sprawl of gracious gardens, peaceful courtyards, and elegant buildings. Also, I really liked the floor tiles:

The site shows an interesting combination of the tastes of both the Muslim rulers who originally built the place, and the Catholic rulers who later occupied the grounds during their reign. A lot of the walls and ceilings are covered in incredibly intricate carving and plasterwork:

Many of the buildings had beautiful courtyards, and the entire complex had a system of channels and pipes which provided running water throughout many of the buildings and provided a water source for the fountains and pools which were everywhere:

I wasn't kidding about the intricate carving:

One of the aspects of the Alhambra that I really like is that there was no master plan for the entire complex. Although each building was precisely planned, the space between buildings was filled with curving walkways, lots of stairs, and a variety of gardens. The whole place might have felt too structured if there had been a design to the overall layout, but instead it had a rambling charm.

This cat does not seem appreciative of the view:

My favorite part of the complex was the Generalife Palace and Gardens. There was an extensive amount of hedges and I tried to pretend it was a hedge maze but it would have been the easiest hedge maze ever:

The Generalife area captured several elements that, to me, defined the Alhambra: large courtyards, an abundance of green plants, a central fountain, all surrounded by a gracious peristyle.

I really enjoyed our time at the Alhambra. We left at just the right time - we hurried through a rain shower to go find a place for a late lunch.

OMG, cultural difference! They spell "nom" differently here!!

In the evening, we went out and enjoyed the Spanish tradition of tapas - when you get a round of drinks, they bring you a small plate of food, as well. The glasses of beer that they serve are quite a bit smaller than in the States, so it's possible to get a good meal without having way too much to drink. Some of the tapas we enjoyed were a small plate of paella, a spanish omelette, some sheep milk cheese, and potato croquettes. We upheld the Spanish tradition of eating late, and may or may not have wound up wandering from tapas place to tapas place until the small hours of the morning.

Outside of the Alhambra, Granada is a beautiful city on its own charms. It has a lot of narrow streets punctuated by open squares. This church was near our hostel:

A really fun town to explore, and very walkable:

Some ruins quite near our hostel:

Leaving Granda, it was sadly time for Scotty to return to the States. :( We journeyed back to Madrid, and Scotty left early Sunday morning to catch his flight.

Finding myself with a free day in Madrid, I decided that I should look and see if it would be possible for me to go to the Prado. Of course it would be possible! Also, there was a Renoir exhibition!! I made my way down to the Prado and spent a good portion of the day touring the museum.

Some of the most fascinating works of art in the museum are the gallery guides, created by the Friends of the Museum ("Amigos del Museo"), and available for 1 Euro. I purchased a "Masterpieces" guide to help me through the museum. This guide showed an unbridled enthusiasm for the art of the Prado, and typically described the pieces with breathless, verbose descriptions - a far cry from the dry, objective commentary which most art museums seem to tend to favor. Some excerpts:

On Rembrandt's "Artemisia": Here we find Rembrandt with all his exceptional talents in their fullness: naturalism, psychological insight, perfect dramatic atmosphere, and dazzling virtuosity in the treatment of details.

Making it clear whose side of the Paolo Veronese/Tintoretto rivalry they are on: Unlike Tintoretto, Veronese transmits these emotions in a subtle and serene manner, without spasmodic agitation or atmospheric turbulence.

Rhapsodizing about Jose de Ribera's "Jacob's Dream": ...Jacob is presented in a marvelous landscape which has a delicately luminous atmosphere and a subtle sobriety which demonstrates that the nineteenth century was in error in considering Ribera only from the perspective of an impassioned and blood-filled naturalism, because this work is proof of his superb and refined work as a colourist... it is a scene that radiates serenity and lyrical peace... the composition exudes equilibrium in every sense. Neither the intensity and concentration of this painting nor its sober realism manages to destroy its lyricism, emotion, refinement or even a certain serene idealization.


The enthusiastic guidebook made my visit fun - it was quite easy for me to personify the book into a guide: a short, round, bespectacled man in a tweed jacket who would often lean forward and bounce on the balls of his feet while holding forth about a painting, and then pause to wipe lenses of his fogged glasses or mop his brow with his handkerchief.

My trip to the Prado was quite enjoyable, and in the early evening, I went out to the airport to catch my flight. My original plan, upon leaving Madrid, was to be a series of trains which took me East so that I could go to Turkey. However, I discovered that even WITH my Eurail pass, an overnight train from Madrid to Paris would cost well over $100. (Without the Eurail pass, it would cost at least $300.) Further searching revealed that I could get a flight all the way to Budapest for $67. So, surprise! I am back in Budapest for just a couple days - I will soon resume my journey eastward, stopping at a few cities (Bucharest and Sofia) that I have already been to, on my way to Istanbul.

My Day in Essaouria: An Essay by Scott Eisenhardt

As promised, today's entry is a guest entry from Scotty. We split up for a good portion of the day while in Essaouria, and you all should be grateful that you're getting Scotty's version of the day, since my sightseeing has now fully degenerated into petting stray cats and gazing at the ocean. Also, I bought stamps at the post office.


Anne and I spent about four days trying to figure out how to pronounce the name of this town, and by Wednesday, we were ready. Essaouira is a town of about 60,000 on the coast. It was a portuguese fortress and trading post through most of the 18th and 19th century, but dates back to the Phoenicians in 7th century BC who sourced purple dye from a mollusk, the murex. By the early 20th century it was reclaimed by the french and since then has been mostly a fishing village. The vestigial walls still give the town its unique charm. Tourism has started to take hold in the last few years, but for the most part it remains a laid back port with friendly locals -- juxtapose to the chaos of Marrakech. There are a lot of day tours here out of Marrakech, but for the most part these people stay to the square, main shopping streets, and a section of the ramparts, a broad wall that surrounds the city. Outside these areas, there are a maze of narrow streets and a fishing port, that is mostly locals and a few curious tourists.

View from our hotel at breakfast

Street in the medina

The day started by exploring the street paralleling the ocean wall. Smells of the ocean would waft in while perusing the paintings, rugs, bags, pottery. I bought another scarf, and for some reason I decided to buy another knitted hat -- even though I have five already. At 2 dollars, there really isn't a down side.


Most towns have a "picture". For Marrakech, it was the Djeema el-Fna square. In Chefchaouen, it's this one blue building. In Essaouira it's a picture of the fortress wall.

I brought my pipe, and smoked while watching a man fish, and three moroccans play with their ocean-soaked puppy. As anyone who has spent a significant time around lakes knows, there's something special about water. And it was nice to be by it again after our days land-locked.


The fisherman's wharf is at the end of a peninsula. Essaouira has always been been a big fishing port as well as a trading port, and the seagulls would agree that fishing is still a big industry here. 

Top of picture - boats. Bottom - seagull, one of 5000.

I got an impromptu tour in french of their boat building yards. The boat farthest left is for catching squid, the one in the middle is for sardines. One boat takes five people one year to build, and most of the materials used are domestic. 

My tour guide explained a lot of other assumably interesting things about the boat building process. As I don't speak any French, I don't know what they were, but an understanding sounding "oh" kept things going.


The main square connects the wharf and the medina (walled-in). It was hard to resist this overpriced restaurant with a view of the square. Order anything you want, but it must have seafood in it, or you're a fool. 

Fresh fish tangine, Flag!

And surprisingly for a muslim country, Morocco actually has a brewery. Flag, in Casablanca.


Essaouira, having been under the control of foreigners for such a long time, is a beautiful identity crisis. I like this picture because it shows the western and arab presence. Blue and white is a typical european/andalusian color scheme, whereas green is typical of the muslim world. 

Nothing is more beautiful than shody upkeep in an old city. Also, everything rusts in this ocean town. If you can't keep the frame of your bike from rusting, how is one to manage the chain?

Another thing I really like about moroccan building methods is that it seems very seat-of-the-pants. Walls are wherever the builder felt convenient, and I don't think that a chalk line, square, or level was ever used. And walkways may or may not be to code at only 5 feet tall. 

Touring the ramparts brought back the memories of an old time when cities had to protect themselves. These cannon's have been inactive for centuries, but who knows when things will change again? I'd really like it if my town would take the threat of attack more seriously, but the city councilmen in Milwaukee don't take proposals for cannons near the art museum seriously.

Next we're headed to Grenada. It will be especially interesting to see that side of the archetecture, since there has always been a push and pull between the arab world and european on both sides of Gibraltor. A lot of mixing goes on, and this can be seen in the design of buildings. The Alhambra is an example of arab-style archecture when the Moors occupied Spain.


Cheers, 
Scotty

Sahara Expedition - Days Two and Three

When I got down to breakfast on the second day of our trip, Scotty greeted me with a serious face and said, "We have a problem." A thousand possibilities flashed through my mind. "The Italians took our seats," he continued. UGH - it was worse than anything I could have imagined!! We definitely had the best seats on the van - the first row behind the driver meant that we had a good view and more legroom than anyone else. The Italians getting these seats meant that they now had a total monopoly on good seats, since they also had the very front seats, next to the driver.

I scurried out to the van to scope out the situation. Those dastardly Italians had even left one of their men standing guard by the van, smoking and giving me smug looks. They had reserved the good seats with a variety of jackets and snacks. Darn them!! Determined not to be relegated to the very back of the bus, we sat down in the next row back, in the seats formerly held by the Chinese. We discussed the possibility that the Chinese would get upset, and hoped that they would so that it would give us better standing to reclaim our seats from the Italians.

No luck - the Chinese boarded the van and took new seats without any comment. RATS. We were left in our new seats, our knees pressed against the seats in front of us, our view less majestic than the previous day.

We set out and drove for a few hours, finally pulling over near some farmland. This man (in the picture) opened the door of the bus, popped his head in, and enthusiastically told us to get some water as we would be walking through the fields and our driver would meet us with the van in the town.

We were mostly befuddled at first, since we were used to being dropped off in locations with no explanation and only a time (given in Italian) of when to be back. This tour guide took us through some farmland, pointing out various family plots and talking about some interesting topics like their irrigation systems and how they harvest dates and olives. It was an interesting tour and very nice to have an English-speaking guide. Still annoyed about the seat-stealing, I also was glad that the guide seemed generally annoyed by the Italians, mostly because they refused to walk as fast as everyone else and were constantly lagging behind.

After our farmland tour, we walked into a small nearby village and went to the house of a nomadic family. (I'm aware that nomadic families shouldn't have houses - I think only some of the family lives there, or only part of the year.) We learned about traditional methods of producing Berber rugs. We all got to try carding wool and learned a bit about the different colors and styles of rug. These rugs are produced from sheep/lamb's wool, camel wool, and cactus fiber. I would have liked to know a little more about the cactus fiber production but sadly we didn't talk about it much.

Here is a beautiful handwoven rug, marred slightly by those smug Italians smirking in the background.

After the lesson on rug weaving, our host of course tried to sell us some of the rugs and it was VERY TEMPTING - I'm glad I can tell myself BOTH that I can't afford it AND that I don't have anywhere to put them, because if only one of those things were true, I probably would have left there with enough carpets to cover a football field.

Once we left the Berber house, we went and wandered around a gorge for a bit. Then, our friendly tour guide saw us off, informing us that we would stop in about an hour for lunch and then had a three hour drive to the desert, where we would ride camels to our camp. Since this was more information than we'd been given about any aspect of our itinerary up to this point, we were very grateful to him.

In the afternoon, we stopped for a few more photo stops. Here is proof that I am in Morocco:

We drove and drove and drove as the landscape got increasingly flatter and more barren. Finally, we pulled off the main road and drove along a dirt road for a while before finally arriving at a compound. A Berber man greeted us and seemed in a huge hurry. He told us we could only bring one small bag or backpack, so there was general scrambling as everyone tried to stuff things they thought they'd need into their day packs. Then we were herded towards the camels:

They gestured that we should go choose a camel, so I picked the one I thought was the cutest. They were all laying down, so we climbed on easily, and then once we were on, they would clamber to their feet. Each camel was tied to the camel in front of them so we didn't have any way of controlling them. I named my camel Pedro. All Pedro wanted was attention from Scotty, who was on the camel in front of us. (We named Scotty's camel Horace.) Here is what Scotty saw every time he glanced back:

Pedro <3 Scotty:

Once we were on, it became clear that there weren't enough camels for everyone. One of the British girls and all the Chinese were left camel-less, and one of the Italian girls got scared of her camel and they put that camel away. They told us they would get camels for them and they would be right behind us, so the ten of us with camels started off into the desert.

We were treated to a beautiful sunset at the beginning of our trek:

As the sun went down, we suddenly heard cheering and the roar of an SUV, and looked back to see our companions sitting on the roof of an SUV, waving and shouting at us as they went passed. Apparently they had not found camels for them, but they seemed pretty excited by their dune hopping.

The sun went down within the first half hour of our trek, and when the sun goes down in the Sahara, it gets DARK. It got darker and darker until we couldn't see much around us. The guide pulled out a flashlight - the girls in front said that he was constantly looking for rocks and shrubs which marked the route. We rode the camels on and on as the stars came out - an unforgettable experience to be lurching along on a camel, gazing at the bright blanket of stars above you. It was a new moon, so there was really nothing around us but stars and darkness.

After more than an hour, I began to get paranoid that we were lost and would never arrive at camp. There were no lights on the horizon and we just kept climbing one dune after another. Finally, after about two hours, we reached the camp and the guides settled the camels in for the night. We were escorted to a large tent where we hung out and chit-chatted for a while. The British girl who hadn't gotten to ride a camel told us that the camel guides told her that we were TWO HOURS late arriving at camp, and they had started putting camels away - which explains both the lack of camels and the wandering the desert in the dark. Another victory for our excellent driver.

Here's part of our group hanging out in the large tent, waiting for dinner:

We were fed dinner in this tent - I couldn't tell you what we ate for dinner except that it was served in large tangines and we got no plates. Everyone ate out of the communal serving dish and we generally created a mess, which was happily cleaned up by a cat who apparently lived at camp to serve this sole purpose. The food was some sort of meat/rice/vegetable dish and it was pretty good, especially since the camel ride had gotten quite chilly at the end.

During dinner, they asked for volunteers to take the SUV back in the morning, since we didn't have enough camels in camp for everyone. As much as I enjoyed my camel ride, it was not very exciting when compared to horse riding, and I wanted to make sure that those who hadn't gotten to ride one yet got a chance, so I agreed to take the SUV back in the morning. This also meant getting to sleep in for an extra hour or so.

We were escorted to our tents after dinner - small, multi-person tents filled with carpets with small mattresses around the edges. There were stacks of blankets and I immediately secured three big wool blankets for myself, as well as an extra pillow.

The guides started a small fire and brought out some drums, and we had a good time dancing around the fire. More and more stars appeared overhead as the night went on, until the sky was filled with thousands and thousands. Eventually, I retired to bed, falling asleep to the drumbeats from people still around the fire.

I woke up a couple hours later absolutely freezing. I readjusted my blankets and tried to warm up, but my feet were SO COLD. To give you an idea of how cold it was: I had taken my three wool blankets and folded them in half, so I basically had six heavy blankets between myself and the air... and it might as well have been a thin sheet. I kept convincing myself that I only needed to arrange the blankets correctly and I would warm up, so I tried to shift them around but it didn't make that much of a difference. I wound up curling into a small ball and getting some more sleep, though I woke frequently and spent the coldest hour of the night just laying in bed shivering.

Scotty had to get up early and leave with the camel group, so I didn't see him first thing in the morning, but when we got back on the bus, I asked him if he was warm enough, and he related his ineffective method of dealing with the cold: "I woke up in the middle of the night and was so cold, I put my spare pair of underwear on... my head." Ah yes, the warmth of a boxer hat.

In the morning, the tents stayed incredibly dark, but we were eventually roused from bed by one of the Berber guides, who came in and ordered that we get up and go watch the sunrise. The camel group had already left, so it was just me and... THE ITALIANS. Interestingly, it was all six Italians - the four that were our arch-enemies, as well as the two nice guys. Apparently, camel riding is just not an Italian thing to do.

I hiked with the two nice Italians to watch the sunrise:

Giant sand dunes - that palm tree at the base was not small:

The morning light created gorgeous shadows on the sand:

Surveying the desert landscape:

When the sun was fully risen, we returned to camp. Here is one of the tents in the daylight - a blue table with the "bed" next to it.

There were probably about ten small sleeping tents in the camp, in addition to the larger eating tent:

Here's more desert:

We sat around being bored for a while. Secretly I was thrilled by this. Scotty and I had strategized the previous night about how to get our seat back, and as the minutes ticked by and all the Italians were trapped in camp, I became more and more certain that Scotty and the camel group would arrive first, meaning the seats would be ours!!

I helped one of the guides fold all the blankets in the tents. One of the nice Italian guys discovered a snow board and decided to snowboard down a dune. This went about as well as you might expect:

Finally, the SUV arrived to convey us back. Everyone put their backpacks inside and climbed up onto the roof. There was a basic roof rack on top and we sat with our legs dangling over the side, holding the bar of the rack. Here is our shadow:

We zoomed along, going right up and over the dunes. It was so fun!! The ride was mostly incredibly smooth since we were driving through soft sand. Sometimes we would go over the top of a dune and be tossed in the air and scramble to grab the rack again. Other dunes were so steep that we would all slide either forward or back on the roof.

You can see some of our tracks here:

The Sahara - it really just keeps going:

When we arrived back: VICTORY!! Scotty had secured our seats, and the British girls also got good seats, so life was good. We set off on the road again, sustained mostly by Pringles.

For some reason, this Pringles can made me think of Trevor:

The rest of the day was a long, long drive back to Marrakesh. This picture pretty much sums up the entire day:

When we arrived back in Marrakesh, first order of business was to shower and try to get rid of the sand. We were back at the same hostel we had stayed at previously. Showers felt great and we then went and got dinner and reminisced about the trip. We agreed that the past three days had been totally unforgettable, for both bad reasons (THE COLD, the confusion, our awful driver/guide, being ridiculously cramped all the time) and really good reasons (incredible sights, trekking in the desert, seeing the amazing stars, dune hopping, camel riding). 

We have currently continued our journeys and are now in Essaouira! Blog entry about here is going to be guest-written by Scotty so get excited!! 

Sahara Expedition - Day One

When we arrived in Marrakesh, one of our missions was to find an excursion into the desert. Scotty had some specific places that he knew he wanted to visit, and I mostly wanted to see the Sahara without it costing too much money. Scott set out on our first day and soon returned to the hostel, really excited about a tour he found - a three day, two night trip for around $100 each.

We went to go talk to the shopkeeper who was selling the tour - these tours get sold all over Marrakesh and then somehow combined behind the scenes; we talked to people on our tour who had booked the trip in restaurants, through their hostels, etc. We asked the shopkeeper a bunch of questions: do the guides speak English? Is there anything we need to bring extra money for? Is there anything special we should pack? We found out later that his answers were ALL LIES. At the time, we booked the tour, knowing that we couldn't expect much for the price we were paying.

He told us to meet at his store at 7:00 AM the next day, where a driver would pick us up. We had a fairly quiet New Years Eve and woke up early to walk to the store. When we got there, there was no one there. We waited. A few other people from our hostel passed by with their excursions. We waited. After a while, the shopkeeper came hurrying around the corner and explained that our original driver had a headache but there was another one coming. We stood around for a while, until finally another man came around the corner. The shopkeeper told us to go with him, so we walked out onto a larger street with him (our hostel and this store were basically in an alley). The "driver" got on a moped and started slowly cruising down the street, with us and the shopkeeper walking along behind him.

After about 100 feet, he stopped the moped and told me to put my small backpack at his feet. I complied, and then he indicated that we should get on the back of the moped. Scott, unable to resist any sort of two-wheeled vehicle, leapt on behind him, and they both looked at me expectantly. I momentarily thought of refusing, but then I had a mental image of me running along behind while they zipped across town. (When I told Scotty about this later, he described it as, "Like the kid who missed the bus: hanging on to your backpack, mittens flapping.") So, I gamely hopped on the very back and attempted to hold on to Scotty. This was made more difficult by the fact that in one hand, I was clinging to a 1.5 liter bottle of water, which was 90% empty. It was a pretty genuine third world experience: three people, one small backpack, one medium backpack, one large backpack, one stupid mostly empty bottle of water and a large shopping bag filled with Berber carpets, all riding along on a tiny moped. If only I had been holding a goat.

Luckily the ride was neither very long nor very fast - we rode several hundred meters to one side of the square where several tour vans were congregated. We disengaged ourselves from the moped and stood around while they got the groups organized. Eventually, they called for the three-day tour, and we shuffled over to our tour van. A bunch of the backpacks got strapped to the roof, and we grabbed the first row of seats behind the driver. The van slowly filled until all 14 seats were taken, and we set off.

The beginning of our trip took us up into the Atlas mountains, and the road was winding and slightly terrifying. Also, we were hungry and the van was freezing. Everyone huddled silently, trying to stay warm. Eventually, we stopped at a store where we could get food and drinks, and we purchased the first of many, many cans of Pringles. This also gave us a good opportunity to suss out the group. Our 14 person excursion consisted of:

• Anne and Scotty
• Three young British women
• Three Chinese - two young men and a young woman - currently studying in London
• Two Italian guys
• Four more Italians - two couples - who pretty much tried their hardest to be negative stereotypes of Italians. The girls were dark-haired and pretty, and mostly didn't talk to anyone and sat around looking annoyed. One of the guys had a ridiculous mustache and always wore a scarf. These clowns would soon become our sworn enemies but we didn't realize this on the first day.

Since we had six Italians, the driver decided to speak Italian for most of the trip, which was sad for the EIGHT of us who did not speak Italian. (It later came to light that he did NOT, in fact, speak English.) However, he wasn't a particularly good guide, even in Italian. Mostly we would stop every so often and he would gesture for us to get out, saying, "Photo! Photo!" After we all milled around for a bit, he would shout, "Andiamo!" and we would all troop back into the van and continue on. As the sun got higher in the sky, the van thankfully warmed up. We stopped for lunch, which was OK but not great, and then the driver yelled at us to go see the nearby kasbah. I was a little cranky at this point and mostly just glared at the kasbah, but Scott had a good time exploring it. I played by a creek until nearby construction workers shouted at me to stop.

The rest of the day was more of the same. We would stop at some sort of unspecified location, get out, and then get back in the van. It was at this point that I taught Scotty about "What's different about this one?", and we eventually stopped getting out of the van altogether. Here is a great photo representation of one of these stops. This is one of the Asian guys, just sort of milling around until we could get back in the van. We called him "Harry Potter."

Here is the van. Yes, we fit 14 people + driver + luggage in that van.

Late in the day, it got dark (and cold) and we began winding along another mountain road. I discovered that the van did have seatbelts and vowed to wear mine the rest of the trip. We kept passing brightly lit, cheerful looking guesthouses, and I kept hoping we would stop. (We knew we'd be spending the first night of the trip in a hotel/guesthouse) Finally, we pulled up in front of one and unloaded the van, unstrapping the bags from the roof and waiting in the lobby for further instructions. They had a mini-fireplace filled with hot coals, and we all gathered around it, trying to warm our hands. We waited and waited. And waited.

Eventually, it was determined that we were at the wrong hotel. We loaded back into the van, except this time, we had to cram in all the bags which had previously been on the roof. It was cosy AKA really crowded!! We pulled back out onto the road, and our driver asked some random men on the street where our hotel was. GREAT. After a few minutes, we arrived at the new hotel. We were each given rooms and told that dinner would be at 7:30. We all headed off to our rooms to get unpacked. The rooms were basic and unheated, but the beds were comfortable and came equipped with massive piles of blankets. Before dinner, Scotty and I sat around, our mental state rapidly diminishly, laughing hysterically about how awful the tour was. When I say we were "laughing hysterically", I am telling the truth: there was a real element of hysteria to our maniacal laughter. We managed to pull ourselves together in time to get dinner, which actually turned out to be delicious! First course was a very good barley soup, followed by chicken with couscous and vegetables. We also sat after dinner and talked with the British girls and the two (not awful) Italian guys. At the end of the evening, we had higher hopes for the next day - we were now well-fed, had some new friends, and were excited to reach the desert and stay in tents!!

COMING UP: Passive aggressive war with the Italians, we get an actual tour guide, we reach the desert, have an unforgettable camel ride, spend the night, and eventually come home. Also, LOTS more pictures - really good ones! STAY TUNED!!