History
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Back North To Fes, Then West To Casablanca
Our farewells with Mohammed and the other guys at Merzouga are heartfelt; we feel like we’re leaving friends behind while Mohammed says they will miss us and implores us to return some day. We say we may do, but of course inside we know it’s not going to happen, there’s still a whole world out there. The need to take the Duster back to Fes means retracing our steps through the Ziz valley, past and over the Middle Atlas mountains, but with an overnight call in a different town – not Errachidia this time, but the unassuming town of Midelt. This is basically a dormitory stop for food and sleep,…
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Meknes & Volubilis: Ancient Sights And Building Sites
According to the screen at the end of the carriage, we’ve just hit 313 kilometres per hour, a whacking 194mph, as we speed southwards through the changing terrain. Morocco’s new high speed railway, the first of its kind on the African continent, is comfortable, efficient and very impressive, and we arrive at our change point at Kenitra in the blink of an eye. From Kenitra to Meknes it’s much older rolling stock, the compartment-and-corridor combo reminding me of British Rail circa 1970. We have high hopes for Meknes, high hopes which are all but dashed before we’ve even settled in. Virtually everything we were intending to visit is closed for…
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Back Across The North: Chefchaouen-Tetouan-Tangier
When your driver introduces himself by saying “you can relax, I am good driver”, it’s a fair chance you’re going to be in for a buttock-clenching white-knuckle ride for the next chunk of your life, which is just how it is for our journey from Chefchaouen to Tetouan. With no rental car and no public transport between the two towns we have no option but to negotiate a fee with a “grand taxi” driver. Michaela can’t even bear to look forwards at times, this guy has what you might call an interesting overtaking technique, one which involves passing within half an inch of the vehicle he’s rounding, at great speed.…
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A Few Days In Magical Seville
It feels like a significant point on this journey as we head into Seville, drop the rental car off at the airport and get a ride into town. Apart from a night at the ferry port, Seville will be our last stay in Europe before we swap continents and head for Africa, this is the last of our Spanish cities as well as the point where we hand back the last of our rental cars until Morocco. All in all, it feels like a bit of a watershed moment. Our long journey through Spain is nearly done, a journey which started in Catalunya, took us through Zaragoza and into the…
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Day Trip To Gibraltar & Other Stories
Sausage, bacon and egg in a bun, a little dash of brown sauce, a sweetened cappuccino: hangover cure par excellence. It’s needed, last night was a long night and today is going to be a long day. But we can’t be this close to Gibraltar without making a visit – the first visit to an overseas British territory for either of us. Our base now is the coastal town of San Luis de Sabinillas on the Costa del Sol, for our last taste of the Spanish Mediterranean on this long journey south. We’ve chosen this location not just for one last dip in the blue but for two other reasons…
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Unravelling Granada’s Complex Cultures
I don’t think we realised before we came here just what a melting pot of cultures exists in this fascinating, absorbing city, but we very quickly find ourselves being completely enthralled by the heady mix of history and evolution which has created the Granada of today. It really starts when we walk out of the cathedral, through a plaza or two and turn left into something which is the most stark of contrasts. For starters, the huge cathedral, Spain’s second largest after Seville, is a bastion of Catholicism absolutely filled with religious icons, glorious paintings and reliefs depicting many stories from the life of Jesus. Yet take just a few…
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Granada & The Alhambra
It’s on the Wednesday morning in Granada that it happens, proper confirmation that I am old. Here I am, fresh from walking the Caminito del Rey, sporting a T-shirt from my travels, boarding a shuttle bus from city centre to the Alhambra and feeling full of the joie de vivre which travelling the world brings, when some guy stands up to offer me his seat. This is the first time anywhere in the world that this has happened to me. I must look so old now that it’s obligatory for someone to offer me their seat. I am suddenly and undeniably an old git. Inside I’m cursing him and wanting…
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Nerja, Frigiliana & The Caminita del Rey
On January 12th 1959, five male students failed to report for lessons at a local school in Nerja, not in itself an earth shattering event – indeed the tutor, one Carlos Saura Garre, assumed they had either met some girls or had decided that a movie would be more entertaining than a lecture. Neither of these was the case: the boys had in fact plucked up courage to go through a small entrance to a sinkhole and head underground to see what they might discover. What they did discover must have blown their young minds. Beneath the waste land just behind the village of Maro, they walked into a gigantic…
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Crowded Beaches And An Antipope: Heading Further South
The morning temperature as we leave Tarragona seems to have ramped up, all is still and the Med is a flat calm mirror of the sky, sunlight sequins glinting across its surface. Tranquility now reigns where yesterday the fiesta brought verve, the only ones buzzing with activity now are the army of street cleaners removing the final evidence of revelry. It’s even hotter as we step off the train further south, and the trudge with backpacks up the steep hills and steps to our next accommodation is a bit of a tester – we are both pouring with sweat by the time we finally open the door to our new…
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Tarragona: Heart And Soul Of Catalunya
It is with an absolute, unbridled delight that I discover that nothing much has changed. Plaça de la Font is absolutely alive, almost every table at every restaurant taken, a stage set up in front of the grand Town Hall in readiness for tonight’s show of traditional dancing, the atmospheric square packed with families where small children, teenagers and grandparents mix as if socialising with all ages is the most natural thing on Earth. It’s gone 11pm and the children still have boundless energy as they ride stabilised bikes, burst balloons and indulge in games of chase. This is Tarragona, a place I have visited many, many times before and…
