Day 186: Escaping Morocco (Seville and Faro)

I fancy this idea of giving y'all a small immediate life update followed by a longer recollection. I've spent the past week exploring Lisboa (just got to Porto yesterday) but mainly I want to share an important documentary which I'm in the process of watching called Zeitgeist: Moving Forward. Essentially it explains how from a young age we are conditioned into pawns of a twisted economic system where the focus is on consuming and making money with disregard to quality of life and sustainability. Phew... Anyway, watch it, but not before you read my riveting blarticle about escaping Morocco.

The bathroom was always occupied I made friends with a plant on the roof.

After three weeks of squatting toilets and choosing between tagine or cous-cous I was beginning to go a little crazy. Morocco was an amazing life experience but I longed for the familiar comfort of Europe. I toyed with flying to Spain but the tickets were too expensive. I was destined for the sleeper train from Marrakech to Tangier. I knew the sleeper train left at 9PM so I was happy but exhausted when I arrived in Marrakech at 8PM, having been on a bus for 12 hours. Before I came back to Marrakech from Essaouira I checked out Taghazout and Agadir (bo-ring). With an iron butt I boarded the train and found my cabin. Unfortunately they were sold out of bunk beds so I made the best of first class. Thankfully it ended up just being two of us in there so we each had enough room to lay down. Too bad it wasn't me and a cute girl.

11 hours was my longest train ride yet.

The seats were comfortable but I thought I'd be sleeping in a ball.

Thankfully I got to stretch out over three seats. Well rested? eh.

Goodbye sleeper train!

Before boarding the ferry I met two other backbackers

I was covering the most ground since my bike ride and flight from Geneva. As the ferry arrived in Tarifa I was elated be back in Europe. Fond memories of Tarifa flooded my mind but before I knew it I was on a bus to Algeciras and then to Seville. By the time the bus pulled into the station at Seville I had been on public transport for 30 hours and I was darn tired. As usual I didn't have any accomidation planned, but I followed a girl I met on the ferry to the hostel she booked and immediately got caught up in a free walking tour.

Seville's cathedral was rebuilt after the earthquake of 1755.

This tower was built by the Moors on Roman ruins and survived the quake.

One of Seville's many squares.

A statue of Peter the Cruel who's lisp allegedly infected all of Spain.

Our guide herding us like cattle.

Seville is the hottest city in Spain and courtyards help keep houses cool.

The famous Sevillian painter Bartolomé Murillo.

At the end of the tour we acted out a silly skit.

This dog was has no historical value.

Seville's monument to Chris 'Killer' Columbus.

This building used to be used as a boat yard.

The next morning I went on another walking tour.

Bullfighting season was just starting. In fact, there was a match this day.

Before the Triana bridge people used to cross on boats tied together.

A lovely view of some classical houses on the Guadalquivir River's bank. 

A huge tower from the Plaza de España.

The Plaza de España was built to host a huge fair in the 1930's that never happened.

The walking tour was great, in fact I went on two walking tours and one pub crawl in two days. Good fun. Our guides lead us all over the city, through Seville's twisty streets, it was a great way to see the city because the tour guide was very knowledgeable. Like Ronda, life is in the streets – when your city's streets are this beautiful, it's easy to understand why. Despite Seville being an excellent place to visit, I had a CouchSurfing host waiting for me in Faro. When I checked the busses around 5PM the next bus to Faro left at 12AM, which meant I was going to arrive around 3AM.

As I groggily woke up and peered at my watch, sure enough, it was 3:30 and I was in Faro. I found my host, Cosmo's place without any trouble. Luckily he was still up and let me in. Introductions were short and delirious. I went to sleep satisfied, knowing that I didn't have to get on a bus tomorrow.

Faro's beach is only accessible by car because it's separated by a wetland.

The next morning I mixed too much chocolate cereal with my yogurt and it turned into a breakfast rock. In the process of trying to digest my creation, Cosmo and I made small talk. He just finished his dissertation on computer image analysis. Basically he designs and codes programs for computers that allow them not only to look at a picture and say "this is a person" and "this is a truck" but because of a uniform the person is wearing and the shape of a truck it can say "this is a garbage man" and "this is a garbage truck" and even infer that this person is collecting the garbage. Teaching a computer to recognize a scenario like this from a bunch of pixels is pretty complex. Needless to say Cosmo is a smart dude. He just moved from Hamburg, Germany to Faro because he wanted a change of pace and he found work here. Listening to him was fascinating. In the three days we spent together, we talked a lot, cooked some tasty food, and swapped a lot of music. We spent a whole day strolling around Faro from bench to coffee shop talking about this and that.

Cool graffiti right around the corner from Cosmo's.

Faro's small harbor.

A building in the old town.

3-2-1

Muckin' for clams.

Not an uncommon sight in Faro. I loved the textures from disrepair.

One café had tasty and beautiful marzipan.

Cosmo's apartment was small and classical with many balconies. 

Other than conversing with Cosmo, there wasn't a lot to do in Faro. Off season it is a sleepy town with a handful of nice architecture but nothing worth bragging about. Cosmo helped me to understand the lamenting vibe of the Portuguese as an empire past its prime. In fact, due to its failing economic state, the International Monetary Fund is bailing out Portugal with $115 billion. Despite problems caused by economic hardships, the peeling paint and disrepair of Faro create a unique vibe. The slow pace of Faro was a great introduction to Portuguese culture and while there's nothing super exciting there, I was glad I went. When I left for Lisboa in the next few days I would get all the 'super exciting' that I could handle...

Tchau!

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Day 159: Kite Surfing in Tarifa!

The Beach Boys never saw anything like this. As the sun was setting in Barcelona I was sitting on the beach, watching this dude cruise around the water being pulled by a huge kite. Maybe it was my background in sailing, but that looked like a ridiculous amount of fun. When I arrived in Tarifa and learned that it was the wind capital of the world and it was right before tourist season, I had little choice. It was time to get a grip on kite surfing.

The dude that I saw kite surfing in Barcelona.

My classes began while I was still in Torreguardiaro. I tried to convince Nick to join me but he was tied up with work. I called the first company I found in a magazine I had. I had no idea what to ask a kite surfing instructor to see if they're legit or not so my requirements revolved around English and money. The first dude I talked to seemed satisfactory. His name was Daniel from 11380 Kite School. We would soon become good friends.

Daniel's van and kite surfing gear.

Our first day on the beach.

On my first day of class I took three busses to get from Torreguardiaro to Tarifa. When I arrived I wasn't sure where to meet Daniel. He said to meet at the bus station but I couldn't find it. Eventually I realized that there was no big bus station, just a small group of outdoor shelters. I saw the grey and orange VW van that he described over the phone. He didn't look like he was going to kill me so I hopped in. Daniel introduced himself and we headed to the beach.

Algezaras' beach, full of industrial icky.

Josh is a young punk kite surfer from London.

The first day of class focused on kite control. He started me off with an airfoil kite about 1 meter across. The wind was ridiculously strong and it took all of my concentration to control (and hold onto) this kite. When we moved to something three times the size I was a little nervous. Thankfully I learned that kite surfing kites have four lines, two for control and two for break. Therefor the surfer can control the direction and the power. The wind was so strong if I didn't use the break well the kite would pull me off the ground. When kite surfing you're supposed to keep the kite on one side and make figure eights with it so the pull is constant. When the kites go up to 15 meters that's no easy task. Thanks to my stunt kite experience we cut the lesson short and saved the third hour for the next lesson. Tomorrow I was going in the water.

Kites, kites, kites!

Back at Tarifa's beach. Not good wind for kiting...

Windsurfers can surf in high or low wind.

My third day of lessons. Let's go!

Packing up after I ripped the kite. Oops :)

For my second day of kite surfing lessons I had to wait two days until the wind was perfect. I've already bitched about the lack of cooperation from mother nature, but it's life – one more example of my lack of control on my surroundings. When Daniel and I were on the beach he explained the next exercise, something called 'the body drag'. Essentially I was going to walk out into the water with the kite until the water was waist deep. Then I laid down on my stomach holding the control bar in front of my chest and made the same figure eights that I did on land. The feeling of the kite in the water is completely different than on land. When I was on the beach I felt like I was fighting with the kite, but in the water the stronger the kite pulled, the more fun I had. Once Daniel saw I had good control with the body drag he showed me how to start with the board.

Getting ready to go home.

Daniel wrapping up the kite.

Tarifa is surrounded by wind farms.

At the end of my second lesson and throughout my third I was determined to stand up on that sucker and kite surf for real. Everyone else is cruising all across the water and having a blast. I'm swallowing gallons of water as waves crash on top of me or I wipe out trying to stand up. I've gotten so close a few times. Once I was even standing for maybe 3 seconds or so. This is the most difficult and exhausting part of kite surfing. Yesterday I practiced for nearly five hours. After wiping out to my heart's content, I came ashore and Daniel and I would walk up wind so I could try again. Try holding onto a surfboard in 30km winds. Bwah!

Daniel, myself, and my ridiculous wet suit tan.

Even though I slept in the forest last night I slept like a rock. I feel beat up, perpetually sunburnt and my hair is replete with sand, but boy am I happy. Today the wind switched directions. The wind in Gibraltar normally blows from the East or West and depending on its direction is referred to as Poniente or Levante. I wish I could tell you what kite surfing is like and hopefully when I return from practicing today I will be able to. Wouldn't it Be Nice.

Adios!

Day 141: Ronda... Wow...

In Osho's Tao: The Golden Gate, The Venerable Master said:

"The supreme Tao is formless, yet it produces and nurtures Heaven and Earth. The supreme Tao has no desires, yet by its power the sun and the moon revolve in their orbits. The supreme Tao is nameless, yet it ever supports all things. I do not know its name but for title call it Tao."

Some call it Tao, I call it Ronda.

Ronda's famous Puente Neuvo.

Andalusia is a one of the most breathtaking places that I have ever seen. It is a treasure trove of quaint villages who's white washed walls bathe in endless sunshine. Its rolling green hills and lush valleys have often appeared in my dreams. Its natural perfection tingles the tongue and lingers on the palate. It's a feast for the soul as well as the eyes.

Considering my past experiences at the Alegraluz Tantra Center, I was hard-pressed to believe my life could get any better. The morning after Martin's weekend Tantra workshop, we were sitting around having breakfast. Today Martin was driving to his house in Ronda to take his son Liam to school. Anna asked me "Are you going?" As I got in the car, I would shortly discover this was one of the best decisions I ever made.

The drive through the mountain road was awesome!

Too bad we weren't on motorcycles!

Even before I saw Ronda, I fell in love with the scenery. About an hour's drive from San Pedro, Ronda is nestled amongst majestic mountain ranges. The appropriately named, Serranía de Ronda wind their way from the coast to the village. 12 years ago Ronda was only accessible to people with strong constitutions and 4x4 trucks. Thankfully Spain built a modern road which allows easy access to this spectacular city. If you're not too distracted by the views and motorcycles, along the way you can catch glimpses of the old road. Martin told stories and showed me interesting points along the way but I could only divert so much of my attention. When we turned a corner and saw those white buildings for the first time, it was magical. Sunlight beamed upon the white houses and Ronda shone like a pearl.

Ronda off in the distance.

Getting out of the car and squeezing my pack through the half open French door, felt like my first day in Italy. It was fun for me to experience where Martin calls home. While he rents a building to house the Tantra center, he owns a quaint apartment in Ronda. It was small but cozy, with a small kitchen, living room, bathroom, and two bedrooms on the second floor. Once we settled in he offered to take me for a tour.

Martin's street!

In Ronda you will get robbed if you don't have a dog.

Having lived in Ronda for seven years, Martin knew enough about Ronda to make me think he'd lived here his whole life. He took me down his street and around the outskirts of the town. It has been under the control of the Romans, Christians, and Muslims, and Spanish, and each has left their mark. Ronda is not only culturally unique but geographically impressive. Sought after not only for its views but a spring on top of the hill, It's easy to see why it was so highly fought over. Today, Ronda is the third most visited place in Spain; where all of Europe comes to vacation. Martin's tour was my favorite tour since I've been in Europe. He seemed to know about everything, which was excellent because I would soon be giving a similar tour.

The entrance to the old city.

The stairs on the left are 3,000 years old!

The Christians destroyed all the mosques' domes and made steeples.

Microsoft background.

A panorama of the old entrance to the city.

Costume or not, I was still the biggest cock.

In order to be considered a gentlemen you have to own a horse.

Here's 'Pene Rock'. Heh heh.

Rooooooollllling hills.

"Just one more step back, you're almost in the frame, Martin!"

A long way down.

Which is the new house? 

Reasons why Ronda is my favorite.

Even the panoramas don't do it justice.

A beautiful system of carefully dug irrigation ditches.

Heat will kill all of the wildlife soon – I was there at the best time of year.

The Romans carved this pathway out of the solid rock.

Not sure how this moss worked but it makes for a great photo.

A house's spring fed sink.

One of the ruins near Ronda's old mill.

When we got home I received an email from my childhood friend, Monica, who I was hoping to meet. She told me that she arrived in Spain safely and gave me a run-down of her itinerary. I couldn't believe it, she was coming to Ronda tomorrow! I went to bed that night thankful to be in such a magnificent place and excited to share it with Monica and David mañana.

It was shortly after 3 by the time we met. Walking to McDonalds, Martin and I bet on whether they would be there or not. Sure enough, there they were, crossing the street with their backs turned to us. Locked onto my target, I took off at a full sprint. Closer, closer, closer... When she turned around it was too late. She screamed and David almost had a heart attack as I picked Monica up and twirled her around. Hugging her and beaming, she started laughing. The feeling was surreal. I never imagined I would see Monica in Europe. What a treat. I introduced Martin and we headed off to get ice cream and coffee.

No matter how long it's been since I've seen any of my friends, when I see them again, I always feel like nothing has changed. It was the same with Monica. I didn't want to talk, I just wanted to enjoy her company. I'm getting all fuzzy reminiscing. Phew!

It was such a pleasure to see Monica and David!

I was excited to share Martin's knowledge by giving Monica and David a tour. Earlier that morning Martin took me for a second tour, down one of the cliffs that Ronda's famous Puente Nuevo bridges. It was an adventure down narrow trails, through crumbling ruins, and across treacherous drops that was not for the faint of heart. As Monica and David worried about getting home before dark, I thought this would be a great route to take them on.

Isn't she the cutest?

David wouldn't follow me across the cliff... What's wrong with him?

Go to Ronda as soon as you can.

Seriously, buy the next plane ticket.

I miss Ronda already!

The tour began well but as it continued, their aversion to danger increased. Finally we came upon a bit where we had to shimmy along a narrow edge with a steep drop below us. It was too much for them so we turned back. "Everyone travels differently," I said. We continued the tour along a more appropriate route but soon it was time for them to go. We had a beautiful time together. Luckily they were staying just minutes away from San Pedro. I knew I would see them again in a few days. With warm hearts we parted ways and I made my way back to Martin's apartment.

The sun sets after an amazing day.

I was looking forward to spending a few days in Ronda, but the next morning Martin told me that I was needed back in San Pedro. Initially I was slightly upset but when I found the girls would be practicing their massage training on me I had my seatbelt buckled in a flash.


Adios!

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