Cuentito #5 - Outsmarting a Pickpocketer

Quick thing to add on for the day: I survived a pickpocketing attempt with no financial harm.

Here are some techniques that most pickpocketers on the subway utilize:

1. Take advantage of a distraction, or create one yourself.
2. Make the move right before reaching a stop so you have a quick escape.
3. Pick a metro car filled with people during rush hour.
4. Wear some comfortable running shoes.

That's right where I found myself. Megan and I were nearing our stop to go home and the metro was packed. The train stopped more abruptly than normal, and all of us clumped together kind of fell forward to keep our balance. As we fell, everyone grabbed hold of anything to keep them upright. Behind me, I could feel someone with one hand pushing on my back and the other down my back pocket. I had to catch my balance before I could turn around, and people had already started exiting the metro. I didn't see who it could have been, but there was an old man and another woman that saw it happen. They came up to me and asked if he got anything.

Verdict: I listened to CIEE and started keeping my wallet in my front pocket. Take that, dirty thief! Next time I'll just keep a piece of paper in my back pocket that says "Gotcha." 

Morocco on a Bungee Cord

No, no, no, I didn't go bungee jumping in Morocco (I wasn't presented with the opportunity). What I'm referring to is the way I felt visiting Marrakesh this weekend for 3 days. Morocco - although it's only a 2 hour flight from Barcelona and separated by 15 kilometers of water from Spain - is a completely different world. It's a developing country but boasts the most democratic government and fastest growing economy in North Africa, but it's a spectacular clash between third world and something akin to Las Vegas. I learned this weekend that even though the minimum wage is 200 euros a month, you have to prove liquid assets of 15,000 euros to travel to Europe. It costs 50 euros a month for gas and electric. You have to pay to send your kids to any high school. Oh, and it costs 35,000 euros to buy an apartment in the city of Marrakesh. So what I mean by being on a "bungee cord in Morocco" is that I had the opportunity not just to gaze at the fishbowl but take a swim, dry off, and leave. For the 31 million inhabitants and 300,000 Marrakeshians in this oddly shaped Arabic country in North Africa, there is no chance to go back to Barcelona. Or the U.S. I guess the most interesting part of the tourist spectacle in the center of Marrakesh is that it starts over every day, and this is the way they live their lives.

We arrived in Marrakesh after an early morning flight Friday and headed straight for the Choia Choia Riad (small Moroccan hotel). Although we knew the Riad was supposed to be nice, we didn't expect to have to walk through a labyrinth of back alley streets to reach the inconspicuous front door. Almost all Riads and many houses in Morocco have a central, open air patio in the middle of the house. The top floor (usually the third) is a rooftop terrace good for hanging out during the warm nights. We had our first customary cups of tea on the terrace of Choia Choia and made plans for the day.

We spent Friday walking around the city and taking it all in. We visited a palace built in 1500 by the Sultan of Morocco and wandered through it's underground passages and the Saadian tombs that date back to 1600, but the most interesting part by far was passing through the souks (open-air markets) and the main plaza Djemaa el Fna. Djemaa el Fna is something you have to see to believe - it's a huge plaza filled with tents that sell orange juice, snake charmers playing to their cobras, dancers, and impromptu restaurants at night. Picture a State Fair, make it Arabic, add snakes and monkeys, and then remember it happens every night of the year. The thing about walking through the plaza is that you can't just look, you have to participate. Walking through means getting yelled at by orange vendors to go to theirs and not the others, being approached by snake-wielding thieves (they put a snake on you behind your back and make you pay to get it off), and dancers that confront you asking for money if you take a picture. Tourism is their main industry and they fight hard for cash.

Even though you have to pay often, it's normally in small amounts. Morocco is cheap when it comes to souvenirs and food. Our first day, we ate a feast of lamb, chicken, and cous-cous for 8 euros each, and we only paid less for the rest of the trip. The food was great and we were adventurous. Most notably, everyone at the table tried chicken liver and had a hard time getting it down. Once we trusted the restaurant, we pretty much ate everything in front of us without asking questions.

The best day by far was Saturday. We each paid 45 euros to take a full day trip into the Ourika Valley and Atlas Mountains that border the city. A group of 10 of us headed for the snow-capped peaks by way of massive van. We were accompanied by a Brazilian and a friendly EU commissioner from Holland on vacation. Our guide, Mustafa, led us into a Berber village up the road and brought us into their house. The Berbers are the mountain people of Morocco that rarely come down into the city. We were welcomed in and treated to bread, tea, and an insider's look at how they lived. They didn't seem to have electricity and had just gotten running water. They kept a cow downstairs to make milk for the day, and they ate lots of cous-cous (a cheap staple).

From there, we headed for the camels. Each of us got (pretty randomly) selected for one of the 6 camels available. It turns out that Megan got a camel that had recently given birth and we later found out had a broken leg. To say the least, her camel walked like it had a wedgie and she was bouncing around the whole time. For the rest of us, there were tall and reputable camels to take us on a 20 minute trail back into the hills. It was fun, and now I can say I've ridden a camel! Megan also had the chance to interact with a wild monkey when she went to the bathroom in a restaurant nearby. I was jealous!

We then headed to a traditional Moroccan pharmacy where they taught us about herbal remedies and various concoctions. I'll skip that part not because it was suspicious but since it wasn't that exciting.

We capped off the day by hiking back 45 minutes towards a waterfall surrounded by high cliffs. This area was beautiful, and we ended up eating close to there in the Ourika Valley. I'll never forget the view from the restaurant. Even though Morocco and Marrakesh feels like a desert, there in the valley we had a view of red rock mountains, bright green trees, blue skies and white snowcapped peaks in the background. Not to mention the food was great and included in the trip's cost. That night, we were pretty tired and headed to the market to eat then went back to swim in Megan's Riad's indoor, heated pool.

Sunday was our last day there. Like many of you parents heard, there were riots in Morocco that day, but I would call them protests instead. We didn't know these were going to take place in our city until the day before we left. All in all, they were peaceful especially towards tourists because Marrakesh is a small city and we are its GDP. It was interesting because there were plenty tourists having coffee outside on the street next to the protests and being completely ignored. The movement was about protesting the high cost of living, the overly-centralized government, and the misuse of public funds. More so, it was about imitating and harnessing the spirit of rebellion that's permeating throughout North Africa.

Although that day we walked around the city as some of the shops were still open, we didn't do too much. I bought a Moroccan belt and wooden carved box for 10 euro and we walked around a bit. At night, all of the shops closed early because there was another protest planned on the other side of town. During the night protest, a McDonalds, a bank, and a clothing store were all looted. I know it wasn't the best weekend to be in Morocco, but it's notable that all of this took place far away from the tourist section of the city. These problems are the country's own, so the two sides involved are solely the government and the people of Morocco. In the Riad that night, an older man named Rasheed working at the hotel talked to me, Megan and Dave for about an hour. He told us that even though we might not suspect it, Moroccans are looking out for us tourists. He said that they consider the safety of the tourists above their own, especially during the protesting. That night, he also made us tea and gave us bread for free since we couldn't go get food ourselves (everything was closed).

The one thing Moroccans will do, though, is haggle tourists to the bone. Dave bought traditional Moroccan slippers for 15 Euro (pretty good price) after initially being asked 35 euro. Rasheed told us that he would never be asked more than 6 euro for the same shoes. They know how to get you!

As we left early Monday morning, I was wishing for a couple days more. Marrakesh wakes you up and intrigues you. I'd recommend it to anyone, especially since it's such a different experience and it felt safer than you would expect. The mountains, the camels, the unlimited cous-couse, private Riad and hot sun - what more could you want?

Me on my small but muscular and sturdy camel.

An idea of the market during the day. After our friend Inge took this picture, she was confronted and had to pay 3 euro!

Eating at the market at night! There are 40 of those food tents set up and taken down each night.

Megan fearing for her life on a broken camel.

The view behind us at the restaurant....

The six guys in our private Riad.

Wild monkey curious of digital photography. 

View from the Berber house we visited.

Treated to tea, bread, homemade honey and butter at the Berber house.

Me and Megan atop the ruins of the Sultan's palace.

Two camels for the price of one!

Megan mistaking the monkey for me. 

An idea of a Souk - a hole in the wall hotbed for intense negotiating.

Me, Megan and Ben at the rooftop restaurant on the first day.

This woman made tea in front of us and performed the "tea ceremony." From what I could gather, the tea ceremony involves pouring liquid from impressive heights.

Lamps,  anyone?

The huge courtyard of the 16th century Palace.

The central mosque at sunset.

A view of the mountains bordering one side of the city.

Our food the first day - lamb, chicken, and cous-cous. It tasted better than it looks. 

Me, Dave and Ben at the ruins.

The woman that cooked our dinner at the outdoor market. Fortunately, she did not proceed to eat from the big sppon.

Me and Megan at the waterfall.

The Arabic Coke label. Add that one to your collection, Durwood!

Lastly, the impressive view from our restaurant.

This weekend - staying in Barcelona. It's been a while since I wrote about being here! More to come.

Sevilla...The other side of Spain

Last weekend, we had a chance to see a side of Spain that couldn't be mistaken for Barcelona. Sevilla is in the south of Spain, a region called Andalucia, and it's known for being the birthplace of Flamenco, the home of legal bullfights, and host to the world's third-largest cathedral. The most interesting aspect for me was the mix of Muslim and Christian cultures and history - you could see it in the buildings, hear it in the music, and taste it in the food. It definitely prepared me a bit for heading to Morocco this weekend!

We arrived in Sevilla along with 50 other people from our program. The itinerary for Day 1 was to visit the Cathedral (seems to be a common pattern in these cities), tour the juderia (the historic Jewish neighborhood), and attend a Flamenco concert at night. The Cathedral was massive - it was overwhelmingly tall, and the columns were like redwood trees going up to the vaulted ceilings. The highlights for me were the colorful stained glass windows (I know I sound like I'm much older than I am, but they were cool), the sarcophagus of Christopher Columbus (a handful of his actual remains are in there), and the top of the Giralda - the belltower attached to it. The Giralda was interesting because although it was hundreds of feet high, there were no stairs. There were 34 ramps that led to the top. Why? Because when the city was occupied by the Muslims, a man would ride a horse to the top 5 times a day to call the city to prayers. 

We also toured the Juderia - the recently restored neighborhood that hosted the Jews before they were expelled from the city. Our tour guide told us that Jews used to hang pigs from their doors to show they had converted to Christianity and could remain in the city. It was fascinating seeing both the clash and somehow harmonious mix between Jewish, Muslim and Christian culture. That night, we went to a Flamenco show and to say the least, it was intense. I'd describe Flamenco as Arabic sounding music, spanish Van Halen guitar playing, and a high-horsepower tap dancer. It was awesome.

After a full night's rest in a nice hotel, we headed for Cordoba - a smaller city 150 km outside Sevilla that is known for it's Mosque - wait...Cathedral? No one knows.

Here's the problem: It's a huge Mosque that can fit 30,000 muslims in prayer, but when the Christians took it back over, they decided it was a Cathedral now. Accordingly, they did a little extreme home makeover and removed the entire central section and made it a Sanctuary - a beautiful one at that. So basically, this building is a Jelly filled donut with Mesquita red brick arches on the outside, and a Cherub decorated, mahogany lined Sanctuary as the jelly filling. In Cordoba, I ate a great meal of Oxtail, fried eggplant, and fried sweetened milk - it was amazing and I won't forget it for a while to come.

Our last day in Sevilla, we spent visiting the Palace of Sevilla. It's not like all other palaces in Europe - it's got a TON of Muslim influence. The colorful tiles line the entire exterior and interior. You can't appreciate how intricate it is until you walk up close. What's more, the history of the Palace was mind-blowing - our Audio Guide told us which room had been occupied by centuries of kings, which room was the place where the government decided to allow the first voyage to America, and which room generals made decisions to go to war dating back to 1300. It felt strange to be standing in the exact same spot in the palace - only separated by time. 

I would recommend Sevilla to anyone that wants to experience authentic Spain. The tapas, the colorful buildings, the orange trees lining every street and the traveling guitarists that walk from restaurant to restaurant to sing outside - It's a complete experience. 

In one hour - Morocco. Now for something completely different!

A view of La Mezquita through the small, charming streets of Cordoba. 

Inside the Real Alcazar (Palace) of Sevilla.

The patio inside the Real Alcazar.

This street is called the kissing street because the balconies are so close together from opposite neighbors. But don't worry, we did not kiss.

All these horses laying in wait - we barely saw anyone use one!

Look how high these ceilings are at the Cathedral in Sevilla! It was crazy.

The intensity of Bruce Willis in Die Hard, combined with Rambo - in the form of tap dancing. 

The Roman (what?) bridge leading into the Muslim, Catholic, and Jewish city of Cordoba - ancient Euros didn't learn how to share.

The Arches inside la Mezquita of Cordoba. 

And more, and more, and more arches (800 columns inside). 

Our tour group from Cordoba. Note our tour guide, Antonio, on the right. He was nice, but very touchy feely - he wasn't afraid to put his arm around anyone. Would it fly in the US?

Me and Megan in a Tea house in Cordoba. Very relaxing.

Until next time!

Dixo's, Fracesinhas and Canadians - Welcome to Portugal

Dearest friends and family. If you ever have a chance to venture out to Europe and you want to save a dime (even if you don't), boy do I have the place for you.

I admit that before I came to Barcelona and saw that Ryan Air has 40 Euro round trips to Porto, Portugal, I had never really heard of the city. You may have, though - situated on the bank of the Douro river, Porto is the home of the famous Port wine. But that's not all it has to offer. Porto may not yet be a tourist hotspot in Europe, but it is a city with great views, a unique charm, cheap food, and one of the best hostels in all of Europe.

We arrived in Porto late at night on Thursday without knowing too much about what was in store. Walking out of the metro at 11:30 PM, we noticed that all the streets were cobblestone (big plus) but they were empty and run down (big minus). After some difficulty, we found the hostel - Dixo's Porto Hostel. It's run by a brother and a sister that are in their late 20s and have an affinity for serving people and making friends. Pedro and Joanna couldn't have been nicer and more welcoming to two clueless Americans walking into their beautiful, 5-story renovated hostel. Pedro immediately invited us upstairs to meet guests that were finishing dinner and drinking Port wine. He showed us our room, introduced us to the hodge-podge group of Europeans and Brazilians speaking broken Spanish, and showed us the balcony. From there, we could see the calm Douro river, the famous Dom Luis Bridge (designed by someone with the last name Eiffel?), and a handful of wineries lit up on the hill opposite the river. I could tell we were going to have a good time.

The first day, we woke up to a free all-you-can eat breakfast (very rare in hostels) and a perfectly sunny day. We walked out onto the balcony to see the city for the first time that we were about to explore. Here are some pictures to give you an idea of how it looked:

The first day, we headed out to explore the city streets. It's important to keep in mind that Portugal is going through some very difficult times economically. In Porto itself, almost every street presented dilapidated, abandoned buildings that would be right next to fully restored apartments with perfect exteriors. Porto is safe, and these fallen buildings don't necessarily mean you're in a bad neighborhood. So, we walked along the cobblestone streets and saw the Sao Bento trains station, known for its huge murals on the wall depicting scenes from Portugal's history with azulejo tiles. The station let in light well and made the walls look pretty impressive.

From there, we walked along the main plaza with the most well kept, historical buildings until we hit the market street. We walked down that for a while, past the Bolhao open-air market to the well-known Cafe Majestic. We had heard a lot about this place - the oldest cafe in Porto - and we got what we expected. Although the menu was pricey, we ordered coffees and enjoyed the dated, ornate interior. One of the best things about this day was me being able to use Portuguese after not speaking it for a long time. Waiters, clerks and people at the hostel were all excited to speak with us Americans, and they always were surprised that I could hold a conversation with them. It was fun.

We ended day one walking along the Dom Luis Bridge. It was really high up. I mean, really. The guard rail went up to about my pelvis, so I was very focused on keeping my balance. The sun was setting, though, and we had a great view of the city and the hills around the river. After that, we headed back to the hostel for a fun night with our fleeting, world-traveling Indian, Canadian, Brazilian, Korean and Spanish friends. Day 1 was marked by exploring the city, conquering the Francisinha (Porto's own ham, sausage, steak, egg, cheese, gravy and french fry sandwich), and seeing the sun set over the Douro. 

Day 2 was a blast. It can basically be summed up in this quick moral - when you're in a city by the beach in Europe, and you see that a Vespa rental is 11 Euro/day per person, rent the Vespa. We kept flipping back in forth until we decided to do it, and it was a blast. We saw the Portuguese coastline being bombarded 10-12 foot waves, shared the road with Europeans, and ate a feast at a hole in the wall restaurant (he was very surprised to see American tourists). Around sunset, we watched waves crash into the pier and create 40 foot high fountains of spewing water. It was unreal - even more so since a man got washed into the water and had to be rescued by a very slow, albeit successful Portuguese coast guard. It had everyone worried. At night, we went to a Fado restaurant with people from the hostel to listen to traditional Portuguese music. It was open mic, and it was all 50 year old men from the neighborhood, so I once again imagined my Dad and his friends getting up and singing slow, powerful and emotional ballads...probably won't happen any time soon. We followed that with dinner with a bunch of Koreans from the hostel. What a random but fun table to be sitting at. I learned a lot about Portuguese and Korean culture - two birds with one stone. 

On day three, we were sad to be checking out of the hostel, but we had a lot we wanted to hit before be caught our flight at 7PM. On the schedule - climb the highest tower in Portugal (Torre dos Clerigos), try some authentic Portuguese pastries, and travel across the river to go wine tasting.

If there's one image in my head I've had of wine tasting, it's a bunch of well dressed people paying a stiff fee to walk from table to table, take a swig of wine and swish it around in their mouths, and spit it back out into a silk napkin. Maybe in other parts of the world this is true. For us, however, our Porto experience was much different. We heard there were two places on the hill that offered free tours and tastes. When you walk into the winery - we did Croft's and Taylor's - it looks nice, refined and relaxed on the inside. She brings you a glass of wine (is this really free?) and says that a free tour of the winery will start in 5 minutes. She also says that afterwards, they give you another free glass (one white and one red). I still don't know how much of a wine fan I am, but I'm a fan of things that are genuinely free, so this was great. We got to learn about the Port-making process (twice) and gawk at the size of the barrels lined up end on end of dormant, slowly aging ruby and tawny Port wine. It was a lot of fun and the whole day cost us about 7 euro on a whole - not bad for two college kids on vacation!

Megan outside Croft - classy winery picture #1

Endless hallway of barrels of wine. Any college fratboy's dream.

Classy winery picture #2

Classy winery picture #3

Portugal was a blast because the Portuguese were nice, the food was plentiful and good, and we stepped outside of our comfort zone to meet the other travelers in our hostel. Porto was a perfect place for a jam-packed yet cheap escape from boring, hum drum, same-old Barcelona...

This weekend - Sevilla!