Monday, June 23, 2008
Hospital, souks and seagulls
After spending a couple of days camped in the hillside forest of Chefchouen i felt it was time for a change of scenary, and made my mind up to set off for the imperial city of Fez with its famous leather Tanneries and walled winding Medina. So i packed up the bike, which Im used
to now and headed off through the windy Cedar trees of the Rif mountains and down through the valleys to the plains. I arrived late in the afternoon, unpacked and decided to head into the city in the morning. However the next morning I awoke feeling terribly ill, and this progressed further and futher into full blown food poisoning in the 40 degree Fez heat and a campsite with little shade. I had this for three days solid, I couldnt eat or drink or move much which started to become a serious problem in the heat and I knew enough to realise I was becoming seriously unwell in the sun. So on the 4th day I got a lift to a taxi on the back of a moped and took myself to the public hospital not wanting to pay the private hospital charges. Well, that was a shock to my already unstable system, imagine an episode of Mash and youre not far off. People with serious head injuries just draped on rickety old beds with saline drips ties to wind
ow ledges, a man across from me looked as though he had been hit face first by a car,all swollen and battered, a woman to my left just kept falling over each time she stood up, blood splattered all over the walls and floor, health and safety, what, forget it. And theres poor old me with a bout of food poisoning, I felt i didnt really qualify for entry to this drama! Irrespective of that i got seen to and given an injection of God knows what and three different drugs again of which I have only a vague idea what they were. Adviced to stay cool I headed to an expensive hotel with air conditionijg and slept for 24hrs.
When I awoke i felt a deal better and packed the Iron Horse and got the hell out of Fez, I was sick of Fez litterally, and headed for Marraketch across the heat of the plains.
Maraketch is like no place Ive ever been, on the one hand you have all the neon signs and boutiques and men and women in gucci suits, designer shades and fancy clothes and on the other theres all the madness of the souqs and the medina. I was really taken with it. The cent
ral square is the buzz that propels the whole medina, storytellers, snake charmers, acrobats, drummers and food,food, food which is exactly what i wanted after 5 days of not eating. And boy did i eat, i sat in the square as the sun came down in one of the communal open air market stalls eating kebabs and fish and cuscous and chicken and olives watching all the chaos going on around me. I ate like a king for about 6 quid and felt bliss and heaven.
My itchy feet dont seem to want to stay places long at the moment and knowing I was only in Morocco for a holiday as such makes them a bit itchier wanting to get on with the travel east. So I booked my ferry from Barcelona to Rome and headed for the coast and back up to Spain, took in a quick stop in Essouira on the coast just to see what all the fuss was about. Jimi hendrix had a house here. But by this
time I was getting fed up with all the constant hassling and tugging from the touts and sellers and hawkers and guides. To be honest it really got to me in Essouira, seems the people are really poor but fed up about it, being so close to europe and such and this kind of seeps out of them towards foreigners. I started to feel less of a person and more of a dollar sign and it kept me from really interacting with the people. Its seemed to me asthough Morocco had lost its identity with the influx of european travellers and unless you get into the mountains and the berbers its hard to be treated without a "whats in it for me attitude"Not wanting to be part of that I rode the 500 miles up the coast on my new shhepskin seat as the old one melted in the Maraketch 44 degree heat, and grabbed the Tanger tarifa ferry back to Spain and was glad to arrive back on european shores. Yes my bike is now half bike half sheep! Till next time blessings and love Jonny
After spending a couple of days camped in the hillside forest of Chefchouen i felt it was time for a change of scenary, and made my mind up to set off for the imperial city of Fez with its famous leather Tanneries and walled winding Medina. So i packed up the bike, which Im used to now and headed off through the windy Cedar trees of the Rif mountains and down through the valleys to the plains. I arrived late in the afternoon, unpacked and decided to head into the city in the morning. However the next morning I awoke feeling terribly ill, and this progressed further and futher into full blown food poisoning in the 40 degree Fez heat and a campsite with little shade. I had this for three days solid, I couldnt eat or drink or move much which started to become a serious problem in the heat and I knew enough to realise I was becoming seriously unwell in the sun. So on the 4th day I got a lift to a taxi on the back of a moped and took myself to the public hospital not wanting to pay the private hospital charges. Well, that was a shock to my already unstable system, imagine an episode of Mash and youre not far off. People with serious head injuries just draped on rickety old beds with saline drips ties to window ledges, a man across from me looked as though he had been hit face first by a car,all swollen and battered, a woman to my left just kept falling over each time she stood up, blood splattered all over the walls and floor, health and safety, what, forget it. And theres poor old me with a bout of food poisoning, I felt i didnt really qualify for entry to this drama! Irrespective of that i got seen to and given an injection of God knows what and three different drugs again of which I have only a vague idea what they were. Adviced to stay cool I headed to an expensive hotel with air conditionijg and slept for 24hrs.
to now and headed off through the windy Cedar trees of the Rif mountains and down through the valleys to the plains. I arrived late in the afternoon, unpacked and decided to head into the city in the morning. However the next morning I awoke feeling terribly ill, and this progressed further and futher into full blown food poisoning in the 40 degree Fez heat and a campsite with little shade. I had this for three days solid, I couldnt eat or drink or move much which started to become a serious problem in the heat and I knew enough to realise I was becoming seriously unwell in the sun. So on the 4th day I got a lift to a taxi on the back of a moped and took myself to the public hospital not wanting to pay the private hospital charges. Well, that was a shock to my already unstable system, imagine an episode of Mash and youre not far off. People with serious head injuries just draped on rickety old beds with saline drips ties to wind
ow ledges, a man across from me looked as though he had been hit face first by a car,all swollen and battered, a woman to my left just kept falling over each time she stood up, blood splattered all over the walls and floor, health and safety, what, forget it. And theres poor old me with a bout of food poisoning, I felt i didnt really qualify for entry to this drama! Irrespective of that i got seen to and given an injection of God knows what and three different drugs again of which I have only a vague idea what they were. Adviced to stay cool I headed to an expensive hotel with air conditionijg and slept for 24hrs. When I awoke i felt a deal better and packed the Iron Horse and got the hell out of Fez, I was sick of Fez litterally, and headed for Marraketch across the heat of the plains.
Maraketch is like no place Ive ever been, on the one hand you have all the neon signs and boutiques and men and women in gucci suits, designer shades and fancy clothes and on the other theres all the madness of the souqs and the medina. I was really taken with it. The central square is the buzz that propels the whole medina, storytellers, snake charmers, acrobats, drummers and food,food, food which is exactly what i wanted after 5 days of not eating. And boy did i eat, i sat in the square as the sun came down in one of the communal open air market stalls eating kebabs and fish and cuscous and chicken and olives watching all the chaos going on around me. I ate like a king for about 6 quid and felt bliss and heaven.
ral square is the buzz that propels the whole medina, storytellers, snake charmers, acrobats, drummers and food,food, food which is exactly what i wanted after 5 days of not eating. And boy did i eat, i sat in the square as the sun came down in one of the communal open air market stalls eating kebabs and fish and cuscous and chicken and olives watching all the chaos going on around me. I ate like a king for about 6 quid and felt bliss and heaven. My itchy feet dont seem to want to stay places long at the moment and knowing I was only in Morocco for a holiday as such makes them a bit itchier wanting to get on with the travel east. So I booked my ferry from Barcelona to Rome and headed for the coast and back up to Spain, took in a quick stop in Essouira on the coast just to see what all the fuss was about. Jimi hendrix had a house here. But by this time I was getting fed up with all the constant hassling and tugging from the touts and sellers and hawkers and guides. To be honest it really got to me in Essouira, seems the people are really poor but fed up about it, being so close to europe and such and this kind of seeps out of them towards foreigners. I started to feel less of a person and more of a dollar sign and it kept me from really interacting with the people. Its seemed to me asthough Morocco had lost its identity with the influx of european travellers and unless you get into the mountains and the berbers its hard to be treated without a "whats in it for me attitude"Not wanting to be part of that I rode the 500 miles up the coast on my new shhepskin seat as the old one melted in the Maraketch 44 degree heat, and grabbed the Tanger tarifa ferry back to Spain and was glad to arrive back on european shores. Yes my bike is now half bike half sheep! Till next time blessings and love Jonny
time I was getting fed up with all the constant hassling and tugging from the touts and sellers and hawkers and guides. To be honest it really got to me in Essouira, seems the people are really poor but fed up about it, being so close to europe and such and this kind of seeps out of them towards foreigners. I started to feel less of a person and more of a dollar sign and it kept me from really interacting with the people. Its seemed to me asthough Morocco had lost its identity with the influx of european travellers and unless you get into the mountains and the berbers its hard to be treated without a "whats in it for me attitude"Not wanting to be part of that I rode the 500 miles up the coast on my new shhepskin seat as the old one melted in the Maraketch 44 degree heat, and grabbed the Tanger tarifa ferry back to Spain and was glad to arrive back on european shores. Yes my bike is now half bike half sheep! Till next time blessings and love Jonny★ 0 Comments. | Jonny, Monday, June 23, 2008 9:55 AM
Leave a Reply.
