Finding our way around the steep mountainous roads of Madeira…Photos of us…

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“Nemo” was headed my way as I leaned into the aquarium inside the restaurant, his cute little mouth, sucking in the shape of an “O.”

Online maps in Madeira, Portugal don’t easily provide directions from our home to where we’d like to go. The paper maps we have, don’t show the smaller streets. Many roads are one way with no seeming way to get back to where we started.

Although the weather was warm, we’ve been cold while attempting to acclimate after the extreme heat we’d experienced in Morocco, South Africa, Kenya. Thus, Tom’s long sleeves. We both had jackets with us which we will again today with it cool and windy.

With a dinner reservation last night and a red spot on Google Maps, showing that the restaurant was on the ocean in Ribeira Brava we figured we could find it. Gina explained there was a parking ramp below the restaurant. After a 15 minute drive from Campanario to Ribeira Brava, we were excited to find the parking ramp with the restaurant above.

Taking this photo of us by the boat reminded us of a similar photo in Hopkins Belize over a year ago.

Parking the car in the ramp after taking a ticket (how modern!) the guard motioned us to the elevator to go two floors up to the restaurant. Meandering out the elevator, we searched for a sign with the name of the restaurant. Alas, it wasn’t the restaurant where we had a reservation.

When we spotted this sign, we knew we found the “wrong” restaurant deciding to stay for dinner anyway.

We looked at one another, shrugging our shoulders, deciding this looked like a great place to dine as we moseyed to the huge chalkboard menu in both English and Portuguese. We decided to stay.

As soon as we perused this boarded menu we knew we’d be staying for dinner, although we weren’t in the restaurant for which we had a reservation.

The day had been perfect at 72F, 22C and the thought of sitting outdoors along the ocean was appealing. I felt like a kid in a candy store with a pocket filled with money, flitting about taking photos, practically squealing with delight over the 6:00 pm sunshine, the sound of the surf, the dogs running about, and the birdcage and aquarium in the restaurant. 

Dining in the interior of the restaurant may be necessary on rainy or windy days. 

Tom had one of those ” _ _ it” eating grins on his face that wouldn’t stop. We sat at a comfortable table for four with a crisp linen tablecloth. 

The restaurant view from the sidewalk. More photos will follow tomorrow with too many to post in one day.

As it turned out, the restaurant, Restaurant and Grill Muralha was listed as #2 on TripAdvisor’s rated dining establishments in Ribeira Brava. What a stroke of luck! The restaurant where we’d intended to dine was listed as #4. We’ll find it next time.

The cozy bar on the interior of the restaurant.

Not only was the menu filled with numerous suitable options for me but also for Tom. We weren’t certain as to spices used in Portuguese cooking, wondering if we’d be disappointed with overwhelming flavors for which we’d soon tire. Alas, we were in luck. Portuguese food is lightly seasoned with spices we found to be not only palatable but familiar, enjoyable over the long haul.

Portugal is known for its fine wine worldwide some of which the restaurant proudly displayed.

Tom ordered a beer while I ordered the usual bottle of bubbly water. The food was beautifully presented, promptly served, and hot, mouth-watering, and delicious. The portions were huge as shown in these photos.  We devoured every morsel on our plates. The service was impeccable, friendly, and English speaking, to our surprise.

A decorative shelf on the interior of the restaurant.

It was so good that we commented that the others may be a hard act to follow. With only nine major restaurants in the area with many smaller café and eateries, we’ll return in the future.

Tom ordered the Mixed Grill which he thoroughly enjoyed.  They had swapped the lamb for more steak. He’d had his fill of lamb in Morocco. Of course, more “chips.”

Our bill plus tip was close to the highest we’ve paid since the onset of our travels, US $62.27, EU $45.47. We didn’t flinch. Able to cook our own meals, most likely we’ll dine out twice a week.  If all of our restaurant meals were of a similar price, we’ll spend approximately US $1200, EU $876 during our time in Madeira, for both homecooked and restaurant meals, an amount we’ve budgeted knowing that prices would be higher on this island than in many other countries we’ve lived thus far. 

This was the most delicious and sizable salmon steak I’ve ever had in a restaurant. 

Based on our research there are only a few restaurants on the island where one could spend more, most of which are in Funchal, a long drive from Campanario. We’ve always preferred to dine within 15 to 20 minutes of home when, here, for example, the mountainous drive is not suitable after Tom after consuming a beer or two. 

My salad and cooked vegetables we fabulous. I know, I shouldn’t eat raw vegetables but we’re hearing the water is fine here, although we continue to consume bottled water. There were no comments in the TripAdvisor reviews indicating anyone became ill after eating at this restaurant.

(Since I haven’t driven a car in 16 months, let alone a stick shift which I do know how to drive, we didn’t add me to the contract leaving Tom as the only driver. In an emergency, I could drive a stick shift if I had to).

This yellow parakeet at the restaurant was checking me out as I attempted to whistle.

After I finish writing today, we’re heading back to the supermarket, the largest in the area, to search for the items we either couldn’t find or forgot to buy in our exhausted state on Friday afternoon. This time, we’ll translate all the items we couldn’t find into Portuguese hopefully aiding in our search for certain items.

While dining, this fluffy dog came by staring at me, hoping for a morsel. The waiter scooted her away. She reminded us of a bigger scruffier version of Jessie of Gucci and Jessie, the two dogs we loved in Kenya.

So far, so good. We love Madeira, the scenery, the house, the food, and the friendly people. A few days ago, we saw Gina’s dad gardening on the steep hill across the street. I yelled out to him, “Olá, como você está?” which translates to “Hello, how are you?” Later, he told Gina, “She speaks Portuguese!” Ha! We shall see!
                                               ______________________________________

Photo from one year ago today, May 20, 2013:

Our last night on Royal Caribbean Mariner of the Sea left us feeling a little sad as the end of the most extraordinary cruise we could ever have imagined.  The Pyramids, The Suez Canal, The Lost City of Petra, and the Treasury where Indiana Jones was filmed, the excitement of The Gulf of Aden and so much more, added to our wealth of growing experiences. For details of that final night as the ship made its way to Dubai where we’d stay in a condo for two weeks, please click here.

Portuguese grocery shopping…Trying to read labels…Making mistakes…Learning as we go…

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This little bird stops by each day for a walk on the railing on the veranda and to show off her catch of the day.

Although some Europeans speak English it doesn’t appear to be the case in Portugal and certainly not in Madeira, a small island that appears to be inhabited by traditional old world citizens and tourists, usually staying in hotels that often accommodate many languages.

For us, living in a neighborhood of local citizens and a few tourists, the language barrier presents a number of issues. How arrogant of us English speaking people from various parts of the world to assume a country’s people would know our language. Why don’t we know their language?

One of the several tunnels we took to get to the grocery store.

Luckily, our delightful landlady Gina speaks a bit of English peppered with a few Portuguese words that make her all the more charming and adorable. On Saturday, Gina stopped in to introduce us to our cleaning lady Judita who doesn’t speak a word of English.

Judita will work for us on Thursdays each week washing floors, windows, changing bedding, cleaning the kitchen and bathrooms which we’ll keep tidy in between her visits. 

The temperature is rarely higher than 77F, 25C in Madeira and yet the parking lot at the supermarket has covered parking which we’ve never seen at a market.

Meeting Judita reminded us of the upcoming challenges in communicating with the local people from whom we seek services or assistance. As always, we’ll figure it out as we did when grocery shopping on Friday afternoon, the day we arrived.

Gina had left a map, making the 15 minute trip to the supermarket relatively easy. As we approached the main door, we noticed that the carts were similar to those in Italy, requiring a coin a Euro $.50, US $.70 to unlock the handle as shown in this photo below.

Tom putting the EU $.50, US $.70 into the slot to release the grocery cart.

At this point, we’d yet to acquire any Euros luckily finding an ATM inside the store. Tom pushed the cart, as usual, while I attempted to read labels. With the handy grocery app on my phone, I easily referenced my shopping list. 

There were several items we couldn’t find; baking soda, baking powder, coconut oil (although we did find unsweetened coconut flour), real cream (for me), Cremora (for Tom), Hydrogen Peroxide (for teeth), avocados, and sour cream.

Since we usually purchase a few packaged items, the label reading is kept to a minimum. Mostly, I check to ensure there are none of the items I can’t eat; sugar, gluten, starch. 

A goat lives next door on a hill with a few other goats which we can hear baaing during the day.  The sounds are music to our years, reminiscent of the goats in our backyard in Kenya.

Needing to fully stock the cupboards with basics such as spices, olive oil, and paper products, we shopped in two batches, per Tom’s suggestion. We loaded the cart to the brim with the non-perishables and checked out. Tom loaded them all into the car, returning with an empty cart ready to tackle the perishables. This is only necessary the first time we shop in a new location when we purchase the most items.

I screwed up on only one purchase, the shampoo, and conditioner, assuring Tom that the one bottle that said “Hydrante” was shampoo and the other saying “Crème” was conditioner. I thought this was a logical translation when, as it turned out, I discovered when washing my hair, that they were both shampoos. Today, we’ll buy a conditioner at the pharmacy. 

A good-sized Gecko stopped by for a visit, an obviously different variety from those we’d seen in Africa. There are few insects here, none of which are a concern, other than the occasional bee or hornet.

The total bill for our two full carts of groceries was US $309.76, EU $225.94, slightly less than we’ve paid for our first load in other countries. I don’t believe the prices were less but we’ve fine-tuned our shopping. Prices seem comparable to Italy although much higher than South Africa.

Overall, the supermarket was satisfactory with a fabulous fresh seafood counter which had a long line preventing us to attempt it in our exhausted state with only three hours of sleep. Also, the deli was filled with gluten-free and nitrate-free meats along with a vast array of cheeses comparable to Italy. 

We love this huge roll of quality paper towels that we purchased for only US $2.74, EU $2 when we grocery shopped.

The produce appeared organic although they don’t label it as such. It’s always easy to detect chemical-free produce when leaves have numerous holes from insects chowing down, an inconsistency in the shape and size of the various items, and a degree of wilting with an occasional spot of mold or slime. 

We’ve learned that this is the reality of chemical-free produce in other countries. In the US, prices are exceedingly high for organic produce when they often dispose of the less attractive items. In other countries, they put most of the harvest out for sale, letting customers pick and choose what they’d like, keeping the cost down. 

This morning’s view from the kitchen window.  Washing dishes is not so bad with a view such as this.

All in all, this is appealing to us. We certainly don’t mind finding worms or bugs in our produce, knowing that pesticides weren’t used. Of course, we wash all of our produce in purified water, placing a few cups of the water in a large bowl and rinsing each piece, changing the water as needed. 

Yesterday, Gina popped in making a reservation for us at a restaurant she recommended located in Ribeira Brava, a 10 to 15-minute drive. She suggested we ask the owner where the health club is located nearby.  Hopefully, we’ll find it.

We’ll never tire of this view which seems to call to us several times a day. I took this photo a few minutes ago as the sky began to clear from the morning’s haze.

She used a phone located in the house that we hadn’t realized was working. As a result, it won’t be necessary for us to purchase a SIM card for our smartphone. She explained that the phone was included in our rent as long as the calls were local. 

We use Skype for long-distance calls which we discovered works well from here after both of my sisters called yesterday for very clear conversations. The WiFi in the house has the strongest signal we’ve had in 19 months, showing five bars. We can both listen to podcasts simultaneously, a rare treat. 

We’ll be back tomorrow with photos from out and about today as we explore the area, find another grocery store, tackle a few of our errands, and dine out for the first time. Ah, life is good.
                                          _____________________________________

Photo from one year ago today, May 19, 2013:
No photo was available on this date.  Lack of photos on certain dates will soon cease as we move further into the year when we soon started using the new camera.

As it turned out, we both became ill aboard the ship from other passengers coughing and sneezing around us all day and night. 

Many cruises result in either a respiratory or intestinal illness. As often as we washed our hands, we’ve since learned a few lessons: Don’t handle spoons or forks in the buffet without a napkin covering our hand which we immediately toss when done filling our plates or by asking the food be placed on our plates by the servers. 

Also, we will not, in the future, use the public restrooms instead, going back to our cabin as needed. We never eat dinner at the buffet, only breakfast. For our upcoming two cruises, we’re contemplating having breakfast in the main dining room instead of the buffet, where the food is served. For details of the story from that date, please click here.

Contentment in our new home…One year ago today…Adventures at high seas….

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The view of the Atlantic Ocean from our veranda. (Borrowed photo. Hazy today).
In our last post, I’d planned to tell the rental car story. Not enough for a full post, I’ll include the story in tomorrow’s post with photos of the car, all the fees, and more house photos. 

Where do we begin? We’re living in a beautiful house in the Campanario area of Ribeira Brava, Madeira, Portugal about 30 minutes from the pier and the airport. The house is overlooking the Atlantic ocean with every modern convenience; a microwave, high-speed Internet, a soaking tub (heavenly), a dishwasher, and oh my, a newer front loading washer (our first load is on now).

This is where we’re sitting now as I write this. We covered the glass coffee table with a black throw enabling us to put our feet up with our shoes on.  The sofa and pillows are very comfortable much to our delight.

There’s no clothes dryer, but instead one of those racks we used in Dubai and Italy. I can’t wait to hang the clothes outside on the veranda using colorful clothespins. Ah, how we’ve come to appreciate the simple things in life. 

Still tired today after yesterday’s exhausting unpacking, grocery shopping and totally settling in, today, I’m still a bit sluggish and slow-moving even after sleeping seven hours last night, not quite enough. 

Last night’s dinner wasn’t the feast we’d anticipated when we were too pooped to make anything other than cheese and sautéed onion scrambled eggs topped with Greek yogurt with a side of Portuguese sausage. That’s all we could muster. Tonight will be better.

Our new clothes dryer. At 70F, 21C it was pleasant hanging our first load of wash outdoors. The darks are in the washer now. I left room on the rack for the second load soon to be hung. 

Later in the evening, I had a plate of small bites of some of the finest cheeses Portugal has to offer, reminiscent of the cheeses in Italy. What a treat! Tom had microwave popcorn and this morning donuts with his coffee. (Darn, my guy won’t give up the junk food)! He hasn’t had a donut in a year. 

The view from the floor to ceiling glass windows and doors is breathtaking. Unfortunately, it’s been a bit hazy these past two mornings and I haven’t been able to get any clear shots of the ocean. As soon as it clears, you’ll see them here. 

See Tom’s donuts on the right in our new kitchen. Ugh!

I borrowed the above veranda photo from Gina, who visited this morning and will answer all of our questions via email. We met her a year ago when our ship docked at the pier in Funchal for the day. She picked us up from the pier showing us the island and the house. We adored her, the house, and the island.

Granite countertops, microwave, dishwasher, great gas stove and oven, and views of the mountains and the ocean when washing dishes. Once the haze lifts we’ll include more photos of views from inside the house.

Yesterday’s grocery shopping was a challenge which we’ll explain further in the days to come. Surely, in time, we’ll figure it all out. It’s all about the layout of the store, the unfamiliarity of products, reading labels, and the fact that they don’t carry some items we use. We did find unsweetened coconut flour, but not coconut oil or avocados. We’ll keep looking.

My view into the dining room while sitting on the sofa in the living room.

The bed isn’t as comfortable as the bed at Dar Aicha. It’s a reality we must accept living in other people’s houses. In time, we’ll adapt to the thinner harder mattress. 

The wood-burning fireplace in the living room. Its cool here now and warming up each day I doubt we’ll use it.

Otherwise, the house is comfortable including the leather sofa in the living room with plenty of soft and fluffy throw pillows and a coffee table which we moved closer to the sofa for our feet when lounging. 

The second living room upstairs holds less appeal for us when we love the views on the main floor. There are TVs in each living room with a few English speaking channels, mostly news. That’s fine.

The dining room where we’ll have all of our meals. Tom reset the table this morning after emptying the dishwasher.

Last night we dined at the dining room table; placemats, nice flatware, and plates. For the first time in two and a half months, we watched the show Shark Tank on my laptop while we dined. It was delightful to be back to some of our familiar routines.

We’ve made a list of errands we’ll tackle next week; a trip to a computer store (Tom needs a special screw for his laptop), a store where we can purchase a needle and thread, (Tom ripped his Travel Smith shirt pocket when we were at the airport. With the right color of thread, I can easily sew it).  

Also, we need to find a health food store and a health club for me. It appears all of this may be possible in Madeira. There are numerous shopping malls.

In time, we’ll visit some of the popular tourist spots; the farmer’s market, the shops along the sea, the mountains, mainly revolving around amazing scenery. 

The view from the opposite side of the dining room toward the sea.

The island is breathtaking with us situated at a prime location to enjoy the views. Although not isolated, we are within 30 minutes of anything we’d like to see, restaurants and shopping. The people are friendly and oddly, the communication is not as difficult as I’d thought it might be. The Portuguese language has similarities to Spanish which I understand well enough to manage. 

The problem I experienced at the grocery store yesterday as tired as I was, I kept saying “grazie” (Italian), “merci” (French) and “obrigada” (for thank you, one of few words I know so far in Portuguese) with a little English throw in.  It was confusing when my brain wasn’t working well anyway due to the exhaustion. 

Tom’s view from his spot on the sectional sofa. Once it warms up a little, we’ll surely spend time sitting on these lawn chairs.

It takes time to fully embrace a new country and find our way around especially when Gina told us not to bother to use “navigation.” It doesn’t work well on the island of Madeira as we’ve already observed when Google maps aren’t able to readily pinpoint locations. We’ll figure it out. We always do with Tom’s amazing sense of direction.

Over the upcoming 75 days, we’ll continue to post daily with more house photos (today we’ve included the main floor only) and many photos of our exploration of this lovely island. Stay tuned.
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Photo from one year ago today, May 17, 2013:

As the mercenaries boarded the ship one year ago today carrying the “package” in order to protect us in the event that pirates attempted to board.  Over a period of days, we had several “pirate drills” to prepare passengers in case of an “event.” Last year a movie with Tom Hanks, Captain Philips, was a true story of just such an incident in the Gulf of Aden.  Pirating in this area has continued as recently as January 2014. Many passengers said they wouldn’t have gone on the cruise had they known of the risk. For us, it added to the experience and we felt safe. Miles out at sea, we were surrounded and protected by several military ships escorting us through the dangerous Gulf of Aden.For details of the story, please click here.

Two days ago, on May 15, 2014, the US State Department issued a warning to US citizens and others not to travel to Kenya, mentioning Diani Beach, the area in which we lived for three months, from September 2, 2013 to November 30, 2013. We chose to live in Kenya for the opportunity to go to the Maasai Mara on safari which was number one on my bucket list. 

Thank God, mission accomplished, as the most treasured experience in our travels, along with the next three months we spent living in Marloth Park, South Africa. 

Thursday, we left Africa after living in three countries for almost nine months: Kenya, South Africa, and Morocco. We are grateful for the experiences and for our continued safety during the entire period. When traveling to high-risk countries, one must seriously weigh the benefits and the risks and carefully consider and ensure that security measures will be implemented during the entire visit. 

We are grateful for the opportunities we’ve had and wouldn’t change a thing, even our most recent time in Marrakech, all of which round out our continually growing collection of amazing experiences.

Tom is better…Sandfly bites are improving…Gluten free fiasco…Warning!…New photos….

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Fresh strawberries are a common offering in the souk.

What a week. Tom was sick for days. I was miserable with the remnants of too many sandfly bites, itching relentlessly for days. 

The scorching heat with no AC was remedied in part by Madame Zahra hauling a standing floor fan into the salon which helps. (Oddly, today, it’s cooler). Samir shopped for us outside the Medina, finding a spray bottle of insect repellent that US $25 later proved to be well spent. It seems to work, although I still have a few new bites, itching like crazy for a week or more.

Sadly, our friend Lane passed away, which we shared in a tribute to him that we posted two days ago. It was a tough week.

These oranges were huge as shown by the comparison to the water bottle in the upper right.  The smell permeated the air as we walked by.
As for the better parts; We booked three more tickets for our kids for Hawaii with only one more to go as we wait for Richard‘s preferred dates. Soon, we hope. Prices continue to climb. It’s a fallacy that prices are better on Tuesdays. We’ve been watching prices daily for the past two months and Tuesdays are no different at any time of day than any other day of the week.

Actually, we managed to go out to dinner on Sunday evening, having an experience that we’re surprised hadn’t occurred here in Morocco up until now. I was served food laden with wheat but was told it was gluten-free.

We’ve been dining at a favorite restaurant in the souk once a week over the past few months. Over the past month I’ve been ordering a dish I was assured was gluten-free, grain-free, starch, and sugar-free. 

Many shops in the souks offer cheaply priced leather and cloth bags.

Kefta Tagine is a dish made with small meatballs (without bread crumbs) placed into a nonsweetened tomato sauce similar to an Italian red sauce supposedly made without sugar and seasoned with Moroccan spices. 

On the side, I’d always order a plate of sautéed vegetables with julienne carrots, zucchini, and peppers, never thinking there was any risk in ordering the sautéed vegetables.

As we sat in the cozy restaurant at a corner table, our regular waiter served the usual complimentary nuts for me, breadsticks, and olives for Tom. These “appetizer” items added to the appeal of this restaurant as Tom and I repeatedly ordered the same dishes over and over, with few other appealing options on the menu. (Repetition is not a factor for us which we’ve learned may be necessary when dining out frequently with few choices available that are suitable for me and acceptable to Tom’s picky taste buds).

This appeared to be a display of decorator items, perhaps, locally made.

The Kefta Tagine tasted especially good to me as opposed to other dishes I’d ordered in various restaurants. After multiple reassurances from both the chef and the waiter, I accepted their comments as fact that this dish was free of any of my restricted items. Speaking good English they both seemed to understand. But, the extra good flavor nagged at me. 

One might ask if I eat gluten, starch, or sugar, would I immediately notice a difference? Not immediately. carb-laden foods including sugar, grains, and starches cause inflammation in the body. If I eat enough of these forbidden foods, it could take days for the effects to become apparent. I don’t have Celiac disease but am obviously sensitive to gluten. A person with Celiac could have an immediate reaction, impacting their health for days or weeks as their symptoms exacerbate.

Well, wouldn’t you know, I was misled as to the safety of the food at this particular restaurant when I found the following in my plate as shown in this photo:

I found what at first I thought was a worm in my plate when I’d been assured my dish was 100% gluten and starch free. No wonder I liked this dish so much when in fact on Sunday after finding these noodles, I surmised that they had a huge pot of the red sauce in the kitchen filled with noodles. When I placed an order for gluten-free, starch-free Kefta, most likely they scooped out the sauce and meatballs picking out any stray noodles. I should have paid more attention to my instincts. The taste was “starchy.”

When I called the waiter to our table, he was flustered and embarrassed, stumbling over his words, going on to explain that my side order of sautéed vegetable, was precooked in the same water used to cook pasta. Double whammy! My main dish and veggies were laden with gluten.

Not one to complain loudly (neither of us tends to make a fuss) I asked the waiter why the chef thought this was acceptable. He answered that the chef thought was would be OK. Assume nothing. Asked and answer. Answer is wrong.  

Lesson learned, once again. Don’t order anything from a pot of any type or any mixed dish with many ingredients. I should have known better. The vegetable?  Who’d think that sautéed vegetables would be precooked in a pot containing pasta cooking water?

Another walk through the souk late in the day as we made our way to the restaurant on Sunday. Most weekend tourists have left by this time making it easier to walk through the souk.

This situation serves as a lesson for me and hopefully for any of our readers out there who possess a gluten allergy, sensitivity to gluten, or Celiac disease. Also, this impacts those of us who also strive to maintain a low carbohydrate, anti-inflammation way of eating.

Luckily none-the-worse-for-the-wear, we’ve decided to forgo dining at this restaurant, although the waiter did “comp” our bottle of water for the mistake. Oh. Generous. 

Now our dining options are narrowed down to one restaurant, Le Jardin. Preferring, at this point, no longer wanting to spend US $25 on taxis or take the long walk to the petite taxi stand in the scorching heat, we’ve narrowed our options down to one restaurant since Tom will not eat a single tagine or Moroccan spiced food. 

A cat outside our door when we returned to the house after dinner.

Le Jardin is the only restaurant in the souk that has offers a few non-Moroccan dishes that is open all day.  Other restaurants don’t open until 8:00 pm, too late for us to dine when we only eat one meal a day. With nine days remaining until departure, I imagine we’ll dine at Le Jardin three or four more times until we depart, dining in with Madame Zahra’s cooking on the remaining days.

Besides, they have the two turtles on “crumb patrol” at Le Jardin and, the two parakeets, greatly adding to the experience. 

                                                       ___________________________________________
Photo from one year ago today, May 6, 2013:
With no photos taken that day (soon these photo free days will get to the end of the point whereby we began posting photos every day, as we do now). 

Instead, we’ve included this photo of Tom and me while sightseeing in Marseilles on May 4, 2013. For the link for May 6, 2013, when we stayed overnight in a hotel in Barcelona, please click here.

Tom and I on a cool day outside this archway in Marseilles, France.  Gee…I wish I still had that sweater!

Tom remains under the weather…We were egged!….Photos follow…96F, 36C and sunny today…

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A broken egg that I found yesterday outside the door to our bedroom, most likely one that fell from the top of a door or a decorative appendage on the wall.

What can I say? Tom’s still not ready to go out. Although his symptoms have abated somewhat, he remains sluggish and out of sorts, lounging across the room most of the day. 

Over the past four days, I’ve taken over his daily “job” of making ice tea, cracking the ice cube trays, and filling the water pot for morning coffee, a seemingly easy job which proves to be cumbersome for me. 

Pouring water from 4-liter bottles into the tiny ice cube trays and then into the narrow nozzle bottles we use for the ice tea is nearly impossible with my bad shoulder. Doing his job may have been helpful in preventing his germs from infecting these items and making me sick. So far, so good. No symptoms.

Roses on display when we last dined out on Wednesday, when Tom was in the throes of the first day of his illness.

For three nights we’ve slept in separate bedrooms which hopefully ends tonight. We often hear of couples who no longer sleep in the same bed and it always saddens me. Yes, I know, snoring and all that. For us, the distance adds nothing to the quality of our sleep, only the temporary freedom from him sneezing and coughing into my face these past nights.

I don’t sleep well without him, even in the tiny beds we’ve shared over the miles. He doesn’t sleep well either from that which I can surmise. What guy says, “Oh, my love, I can’t sleep without you!” 

Yesterday afternoon on one of my many daily forays upstairs to go to the bathroom or to get something from the bedroom, I noticed a broken egg, contents oozing, on the steps outside of the heavy drapery to the doorway to the master bedroom. 

It’s hard to resist stopping to peer at these cookies in a bakery window.

Usually, a broken egg inside a house occurs in the kitchen. How odd. Getting up close and personal, I studied its contents searching for what perhaps might have been a bird embryo. Nothing was evident. Most likely it was a pigeon egg.

Each morning as I’ve mentioned many times, the pigeons fly inside the riad, cooing loudly while flapping wings against the railings and walls, while the rooster next door crows every minute. Add the call-to-prayer every few hours and it quite the noise fest. None of that bothers us. It’s simply unusual. But then, it was unusual when a warthog showed up at our door with four babies in tow day after day.

It was only last week that we posted a photo of the contents of a nest that had fallen from the top of a doorway to the floor in the courtyard. It is these types of infinitesimal experiences that add a special element to our travels, not the towering historical buildings surrounded by hoards of tourists. It’s a broken egg. 

These neatly stacked bags of dyed yarn make a colorful display.

It was the dinner Madame made for us last night, always delicious, when she made a favorite of mine that requires more work and time to make; egg dipped sautéed aubergine (eggplant), a huge plate that I always devour in its entirety added to the perfectly roasted chicken parts, dark for me, white for Tom and the green beans, carrots, cooked cabbage and chips (fries) and bread for Tom, who only picked at his food. 
 
I was famished eating enough for two minus the bread and chips. Then she adds another favorite of mine, omelets with no cheese, no butter, no salsa, and no veggies that somehow tastes divine in its simplicity. That special touch. More broken eggs, prepared with care and love. This is what we’ll recall in years to come.

These two basic shoe styles are popular in the souks; slips on with pointy toes and slip-on with rounded toes. This style of our little interest to me, finding backless shoes unsuitable for the amount of walking required in our travels.

As both Oumaima and Madame entered this morning they immediately inquired as to Tom’s well-being, worry, and concern on their faces. Soon Adil will stop by for his daily visit to inquire as to our choices for dinner based on another day and night indoors. 

Well, we’re not really indoors living in a riad, as I notice another little tibbit (bird) walking on the flying carpet under my feet within inches (millimeters) of me. I longed to take a photo as I have more times than I can count. But, the slightest movement will send it flying away.

All of this…is what we’ll recall of our time in Morocco.
                                              ____________________________________

Photo from one year ago today, May 3, 2013:

There was no photo from one year ago today. It was the day that we donated three full large suitcases filled with mostly new clothing to a charity in Barcelona in order to lighten our load. Later, I regretted not taking photos. We were distracted and had time constraints in order to get everything ready for the port agent in Barcelona. For the full story, please click here.

Drinking alcohol in Morocco…Not readily available in Islamic countries…

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Baskets of spices outside a spice shop in the souk.

Tom is not a big drinker. On occasion, if readily available, he may enjoy a couple of bottles of beer or a few of his favorite cocktails. When planning to live in Morocco, he had little concern when we discovered that buying a bottle of his favorite Courvoisier, which he mixes with Sprite Zero over ice, was not an easy purchase in this non-drinking Muslim country.

He dismissed the concept of drinking for the two and a half months without giving it a thought. Out of curiosity, we checked prices of his brand at the grocery store at a cost of US $60, MAD 486 for the VS, not VSOP, for a smaller bottle than he usually purchases. He said, “Nah, it’s just not worth it.” 

Leather sandals are a common offering in the souks.

Yes, he’s quite frugal when it comes to himself but never when it comes to me. Then again, my wants and needs are minimal these days so I have followed suit in frugality for myself as well. (Over the past few weeks, I’ve been using a Q-tip in order to get the last remnants out of a favorite tube of lipstick. Perhaps, the difficulty in replacing it is more the intent than the frugality).

Instead of buying a bottle, I suggested he have a few drinks when we dine out. The restaurants we frequent offer beer, wine, and his favorite cocktail. But, the other problem in ordering cocktails in restaurants is the ice.  All of them use tap water when making ice. With the risk of intestinal distress, the only ice we use is that which we make in our riad using bottled water to fill the tiny trays in the household’s tiny freezer. 

Tourists are often attracted to the varied choices of leather handbags.

The average cost of his cocktail in the restaurants with the Sprite Zero is US $14.17, MAD 115. If he were to have only two cocktails without ice, which he doesn’t care for, the cost at almost US $30, MAD 243 is ridiculous, costing as much as our food, which in itself in not a bargain in Marrakech. 

Beer, a good second choice, is an average of US $7.00, MAD 57, again in a smaller bottle. He decided to forgo beer as well. Why bother? He feels it’s just not worth it. For me, it’s not an issue. I don’t drink alcohol, although at times I do wish I could, especially red wine. But my health supersedes my desire to drink, a decision I made many years ago.

Carry on leather bags also appeal to the tourist trade.

All said and done, Tom has ordered one cocktail without ice and one beer on two separate occasions when we’ve dined out in Marrakech, never to order again.

Another situation where we find cocktail prices outrageous is while cruising. The cost of drinks and beer is comparable to Morocco prices and then again, Tom cringes. Cruises offer drink packages usually around US $59, MAD 478 per person per day plus 15% gratuity. 

This clump fell onto the floor of the riad overnight.  With spring in the air and all the birds flying in the house, we assumed it may be the makings of a bird’s nest.

When we did the math for these cruise packages, there was no way buying one made sense for Tom. He only has a few cocktails at dinner when we’re gathered around a sharing table or dining on our own. He never drinks alcohol during the day so he’d have to drink six cocktails at dinner to break even, seven to be ahead. Forcing oneself to drink to justify the “package” hardly makes sense to us. There are non-alcoholic beverage packages that make no sense for me. I don’t drink sugary beverages, juice, or soda.

In a mere 17 days, we’ll be in Madeira, grocery shopping the next day with our late arrival. With enthusiasm, we anticipate purchasing all the foods, snacks, and beverages that we desire. Perhaps, at “happy hour,” we’ll lounge on the veranda overlooking the ocean and once again, feel like we’re “home,” wherever that may be. 
                                              ______________________________________

Photo from one year ago today, April 28, 2013:

The view of the island of Madeira where we’ll arrive in only 17 days, flying from Marrakech. Our ship docked in Madeira for one day a year ago today, enabling us to visit with Gina, the owner of the house, and to see our future home in person. We couldn’t have been more pleased. The house is away from this busy port town of Funchal. For details of that date with more photos, please click here.

Fun date night in the souk…An attitude adjustment hatched…

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This gorgeous rose was growing in one of the many flower beds in the restaurant where we dined last evening.

The souk and the Big Square of the Medina of Marrakech change at night. The energy level ramps up, the shopping crowds are less frenzied though crowded and the mood goes from “let’s rush” to “let’s have fun!”

Dining on the rooftop, we spotted this familiar Minaret Tower.

As we walked by a shop, a vendor yelled to Tom, “Hey, Grande Mustache! What you buy for the madam?” Tom returned, “She has it all!”

I giggled, as we women often do when our loved ones make assumptions that we already have everything we could possibly want.

When we asked for a dinner menu, the server brought this huge chalkboard for our review.

Yesterday afternoon, an attitude adjustment was born out of our magical way as a team, of making a conscious decision to “reframe our thinking” (words used by motivational speaker Tony Robbins from years passed) by returning to our usual cheerful and enthusiastic selves.

We’d been in a bit of a funk for this past month, mostly precipitated by one of us more than the other, looking for all that wasn’t right, as opposed to what was right, invariably sucking the other into the mood. As hard as the more positive one tried to stay upbeat, the at times more somber partner quietly refused to partake in rampant bouts of cheerfulness.

Plants, trees, bushes, and flowers were on display on the restaurant’s rooftop.

Without prodding, criticizing or any form of recrimination, the more cheerful one had an idea: Let’s start planning  our travels from May 15, 2015 into the future for the somber one’s first choice of the next stop along the way. And then, magic happened! We had a light bulb moment.

We have no home, no stuff and no idea where we’ll be in 13 months when on May 15, 2015 our last booked rental ends. Imagine that such a thought could be disconcerting. 

These tables were rather low suitable more for children than adults.  We sat in a corner managing to get comfortable.

Add the fact that present circumstances don’t necessarily keep us entertained and busy without the day to day responsibilities of managing a household to some extent; planning and shopping for meals, cooking and creating a familiar routine and ambiance, had left us both with too much idle time on our hands. As a result, idle time…la la la…idle mind (or whatever they say).

With the utmost excitement, we both began researching online with a greatly improved WiFi signal, thinking, discussing, and planning. An animated conversation ensued along with a renewed sense of “why we’re doing what we’re doing.” 

The views from the restaurant’s third-floor rooftop.

Over our next 30 days in Marrakech, we’ll enthusiastically continue our search, already with a decent plan in mind as we strive to make it affordable, exciting, and befitting our dreams of continuing on in our travels

Although much of the Medina is well maintained, the age of many of the buildings result in many distressed buildings.

Instead of dining during the day, as we often do, last night we walked the short distance from our door to the souk with a spring in our step, determination in our hearts on a mission to find a new restaurant serving mostly French or Italian cuisine and have a lovely evening.

The restaurant’s name was displayed in white stone in the backyard.

After a 20 minute walk through the souk, we discovered exactly what we were looking for, a three-story restaurant we’d noticed on prior walks, one which we’d never tried. We weren’t disappointed by the décor, the food, the service or the prices at Terrasse des Espices or, of course by the conversation. OK, their credit card machine battery was dead. No big deal. We paid in cash.

Here again, more old and worn buildings mostly unoccupied.

As I enthusiastically type fast and furiously while voraciously pounding on this uncooperative keyboard, once done here today, the search will continue. Over the next few weeks, we’ll book the remaining five flights for our family members for Hawaii, book a car and flight for Madeira, while we continue to research our options for future.

More rooftop views.

And, of course, once we start booking for the future, we share the details with our readers.

This Arabic symbol Hamsa, protection from the evil eye.

Once again, we’re our old (yes, old) cheerful selves filled with determination and enthusiasm for today, tomorrow, and times yet to come. 

“Hey, Grande Mustache,” I mutter with a huge grin on my face, “Thanks for sharing a great day, delightful date night and yes, you’re right..she does have it all!
____________________________________________

Photo from one year ago on April 15, 2013:

Tom coming down the slide of the ship’s pool. For details for the post from that date, please click here.

A day outside the Medina…An exhilarating dining experience…Stumbles along the way…Negotiating taxi fares…

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We were pleased to find this upscale Italian eatery open during lunch hours, our favorite time to dine.

No matter where one travels, whether in their home country or away, we all occasionally encounter unpleasant experiences. We’re always grateful that above all that we’re safe, in good health, and at the end of the day, able to return to a lovely environment, our home away from home, in this case, Dar Aicha which couldn’t be more perfect.

At noon yesterday, we took off on the 20 to 30-minute walk (depending on the crowds) to the main road outside the Medina, where the “petit taxi” area where the gold-painted little cars wait along the road to take tourists to their chosen locations.

The name of the game is to negotiate the best fares. It helps to know what those fares “should be,” which we did, having taken these routes in the past. We needed three cab rides in one day:

It was a beautiful day, sunny but not too warm.

1.  L’annex Restaurant (all indications on their website indicated they were open for lunch on Monday.
2.  From L’annex Restaurant to Marjane Mall’s grocery store to purchase nuts and cheese for the next several weeks.
3.  From Marjane Mall grocery store back to the Medina (the Big Square) for the return walk to Dar Aicha.

From our past experience, we anticipated that each fare should be around US $4.91, MAD 40 for a total of US $14.73, MAD 120 plus tips. None of these locations were far but it’s slow getting through the busy trafficked streets with cars, horses and buggies, carts with donkeys, buses, motorbikes, and pedestrians, all of which appear to be oblivious of one another.  How the traffic moves so quickly without endless accidents amazes us.

Yesterday, while on our way to the restaurant.

Our first taxi driver refused the MAD 40 we offered for the ride until we started walking away. At that point, he told us to wait while he took off for a minute to grab another taxi driver that agreed to take the MAD 40 for the trip to the restaurant. Off we went, in the tiny vehicle. Most of these cars either don’t have working seat belts or they are inaccessible, making buckled up unlikely.

Arriving at the restaurant, the driver turned and looked at us, in French explained it was closed. Online, everything pointed to a Monday lunch from 12:00 to 3:00 pm. Well after 12:00, we realized they were closed. I had tried calling several times getting a message spoken in Arabic, with no option of leaving a message. I’d sent an email to their listed, reservation only to have it bounced back. We took the chance and went anyway.

There was a photo of Morocco’s King Mohammed VI on the wall in the restaurant.
Paying the driver we decided that we’d walk until we discovered a restaurant open for lunch. It was a beautiful neighborhood, leaving us feeling totally safe.  It wasn’t long before we stumbled upon the Italian restaurant, L’Ultimo Bacio Restaurant surprisingly rated #19 out of 506 restaurants in TripAdvisor. Hopefully, after we posted a glowing review yesterday they’ll move up to a much deserved higher slot when readers read our review.
This photo was taken from my seat at the banquette.

Reading the menu posted outside, we were certain we’d each find something suitable. Walking into the attractive trendy designed space, we were seated at a banquette, where we often sit with Tom always insisting I take the padded seat. As I sunk into the most comfortable seat I’ve experienced since “my comfy chair” back in Minnesota, I’d have been happy if the food was mediocre.

Before even ordering, I said to Tom, “Let’s come back here.  This is wonderful!” The ambiance was inviting, the service impeccable and the food, divine.

Tom enjoyed checking out the pleasant décor in the restaurant.

Carefully reviewing the menu, I noticed a few options that could work for me with a few adjustments. Taking out my food list on the phone, I handed it to the waiter, who actually spoke some English. Immediately, he pointed to a few options, the same I’d considered and we were good to go. Tom ordered the lunch special which is shown here in photos.

The meal was superb, one of the best we’ve had in Morocco. The owner stopped by during our meal to check on us. Later, when we were done, he spent considerable time chatting with us in his Italian accent, good English. This simple touch adds another level of enjoyment to any dining experience.

Tom’s complimentary appetizer of fried mozzarella cheese.

Languishing over our meal the time flew by and finally, we were ready to leave, our bellies full of great food and our hearts filled with appreciation for a blissful dining experience. Our bill was US $30.08 including tax, plus tip, much to our delight. We had no alcohol or dessert, only adding a one-liter bottle of still water which we shared, as usual.

Afterward, we walked the neighborhood checking possible future dining options with most of the menus posted outdoors written in French, which I can read, or in Arabic, which I cannot. When we were ready for petite taxi #2 of the day, we stood on a busy street near the curb. 

We’ve found that “calling” a taxi limits the opportunity to negotiate to leave one stuck with whatever fare they ask. Flagging one down, we peek our head in the window, first asking, “How much?” at which point the negotiation begins, rapidly going back and forth to finally settle on a number. Each time, Tom and I decide in advance which of us will do the negotiation. It gets very confusing if more than one of us is involved in the process.

Tom’s starter included in the lunch special, cheese pizzas with hand-rolled crusts.  He said it was better than pizza he’d had while we were in Italy.

In two of three of yesterday’s cases, the drivers started at US $12.28, MAD 100, finally to end up at US $4.91, MAD 40, a typical price for this distance. For those who don’t like to negotiate when traveling, they may be in for a rude awakening finding themselves paying two to three times more than necessary for taxi fare. 

For us, using taxis frequently, we must remain diligent in our pursuit of a reasonable price for the area. In the US, the fare would be almost $5 before getting out of the driveway. It’s all relative, based on going rates for the area.

Flagging down a petite taxi, we were on our way to Marjane shopping area’s “supermarket” (as referred to in Africa in general). When the driver pulled up to the strip mall, it wasn’t the Marjane mall where we’d previously shopped. The driver insisted there was a “supermarket” in the center and for us to walk three doors down to it. 

Tom’s entrée, pasta with meat sauce.

We couldn’t figure out why he didn’t drop us closer to the door to ensure we were at a supermarket. When we saw a few grocery carts in the parking lot, we decided we’d accept this location, after trying to explain to the non-English speaking driver that this wasn’t the Marjane Mall we’d visited in the past but a strip mall with a similar name.

Once in the store, similar to a Walmart, we went about finding the few items on our list. As we approached the bulk foods area I took a photo of the huge open bins of various frequently used grains, for sale by the grams.  Immediately, a well-dressed man wearing a store name tag approached me, telling me I’d have to delete the photo in his presence.

Of course, we don’t want to make trouble. I showed him the photo as I deleted it. I guess we didn’t realize that it was inappropriate to take food photos in a grocery store. Tom put the camera in his pocket while we proceeded to shop for our few items.

My delicious entrée, chicken breasts with a light garlic and cream sauce made without starch or sugar, and the accompanying layered grilled vegetables layered with fine cheeses.

As we proceeded to pay at the register, their credit card machine wasn’t working.  We waited for at least 15 minutes, as other shoppers using cash were scooted through the line. I’d seen several ATMs in the mall knowing if necessary we could get more cash to pay for the items, totaling US $135.53, MAD 1104.  Finally, the manager brought the checker another portable device that worked and we were on our way with our groceries in a cart.

Now, we needed to find our third and final taxi of the day, none of which were in sight in the parking lot. Heading the long walk to the main road, we flagged down the third taxi. I asked” (It was my turn), “How much to the Medina?”

“One hundred,” he said.

“Too much!” I said, walking away.

“Fifty,” he said.

“Forty,” I followed. He waved his arm for us to enter with our groceries. As soon as we were situated, he turned to us and said “Fifty to the Medina!”

“No!” I bantered. “You agreed on 40!” He shrugged in agreement on the 40. Bait and switch. It went downhill from there. He spoke little English and indistinguishable French.

A buffet of various vegetable appetizers might be a future option for me with a side of some form of protein. This looked delicious in person.

After driving for a few minutes, he took off on a side street stopping the car, saying, “Excuse me, madame, two minutes.” 

Tom and I looked at each other wondering what this was about.  He turned off the car and exited, leaving us sitting there stupefied. Tom could see him talking to a man on the street. Do we jump out with our groceries, taking off on foot, or wait out this peculiar scenario? We decided to wait for the two minutes.

When he returned, he apologized to me (the negotiator in this case) again and we were back on our way.  Within another minute, he turned on the radio to an Arabic-speaking station turning up the volume as loud as it would go. It was earsplitting and nerve-wracking. We looked at each other with the same realization,  he was “getting back” at us for the MAD 40. What else could it be?

The intimate décor would definitely be romantic at night.

Luckily, in 10 minutes we approached the square, Tom handed the driver the MAD 40 with no tip and no word.  We exited the taxi as quickly as we could, left to navigate the busy road with fast-moving traffic while carrying our four bags of nuts, cheeses, and a few toiletry items. 

Need I say, we were relieved to be back at the Medina back on our way to Dar Aicha. We’d been gone for five hours. 

After almost a five hour outing, we headed back to the Medina.

Our dining experience at L’Ultimo Restaurant…stupendous. Our taxi experiences…not so much. But, we were safe, well-fed, and had a pleasant evening ahead of us, playing Gin (Tom’s beating me in the fourth country in a row), watching a few recorded shows, munching on our nuts, and generally, grateful for yet another day in the life.
                                                  ____________________________________

Photo from one year ago today, April 1, 2013:

A year ago, we ordered the Sony camera from Amazon.com with these accessories.  We didn’t receive it until weeks later in April 2013 and, we didn’t begin to use it until sometime in May.  For the story and specs on the camera, please click here.

The maze like environmant of the souk…So confusing…Food around the world…

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Yesterday, this was my meal at Le Jardin;  fillet of Dover sole with a spinach sauce made with a flour-less cream reduction sauce. In the center, is an array of cooked vegetables, including carrots, zucchini and eggplant. The chef prepared this meal for me after the server showed the him the restriction list on my phone. It was fabulous. Now, I can’t wait to have this again! See how tempting it is to return to favorite restaurant when I can order a dish as amazing as this?

Firstly, again thanks for the many well wishers, for my improving health.  Now with only one more day on Cipro, I am feeling completely well, having decided to continue and do the full five day regime.  All symptoms have subsided and I’m back to my energized self, chomping at the bit to get out and explore.

Tom ordered the same dish he’d had at Le Jardin the last time we visited, fearful he wouldn’t like other options. Next time, he’ll try a different dish.

Yesterday, we did exactly that!  Explore. On Friday, the holy day for those of the Muslim faith, many of the shops are closed in the souk. As a result, the narrow roads and passageways of the souk are relatively free of foot traffic. Since we aren’t interested in shopping, this is an ideal time for us to get around and explore the area and search for new restaurants to try.

During the long walk, as we searched for Le Jardin we discovered this interesting door in the Jemaa el Fna in the souk..

Here’s the dilemma. We’ve decided we can no longer dine at most Moroccan food restaurants. Having decided I will no longer eat raw vegetables after this dreadful illness there are few foods that I can eat in a Moroccan restaurants with any assurance that there will be none of the ingredients that I can’t have. Many dishes have flour, sugar, grains, fruit and starches, all which I must avoid.

Continuing on through the narrow roads, we looked for any familiar landmarks that would assist us in our search for Le Jardin.

A few days ago, Tom suggested I write about food too much. I agree that it is a frequent topic of conversation.  But, let’s face it, people usually travel for a few reasons other than to “get away from it all.” They travel for the shopping, the sights and for the food and wine. 

We thought we were close when a few weeks ago, we’d spotted these same two kittens playing at perhaps the same spot.
Many of the homeless cats hang out in pairs.

When travelers board a long flight, one of their first questions asked is, “Do we get a meal?” One of the major reasons travelers enjoy cruising is for the food, the “all you can eat” aspect, with many courses with an endless array of desserts. When travelers arrive at a new location, they immediately get to work to find out where to eat using the Internet, the concierge or by inquiring to other travelers.

From time to time we’ll see what appears to be a traditional home furnishings shop. 

We live in a “food” orientated society. Our holidays and celebrations consist of big meals with many desserts.  Sporting events appeal to many for the food and drinks that seem to go along the frenzy. A trip to a movie theatre results in a desire for popcorn, candy and drinks. 

Ever go to Las Vegas and not discuss a plan as to where to have the biggest and best buffets, maybe “comped” if one is a serious gambler, or to immediately return to a favorite haunt for a special dish?  Its our nature.

If we go back to the caveman/cavewomen, most likely the first thing they thought about upon wakening, is where and how they’ll get their next meal. In the animal world, we observed both on safari and in living in Marloth Park, that animals lives revolve around the constant hunt or forage for food.

What an interesting door!

Its in our DNA whether its out of the need to feed our bodies or for sheer pleasure. We can’t help but think and talk of our desires for food in various the forms in which we’ve become familiar. A huge part of traveling is the excitement of seeking the new food experiences, the new flavors.

Here we are in Morocco, dealing with my major food restrictions (which I don’t resent at all) and Tom’s picky taste buds, in one  of the “foodie” capitals in the world! Food is a major point of discussion in our lives perhaps in a slightly different manner than for most travelers.

A few decisions have been determined by my recent illness coupled with Tom’s taste buds:
1.  No more dining in Moroccan restaurants
2.  All dining is to be in French, Italian or other suitable international restaurants
3.  When dining in, Madame Zahra will make all meals without the traditional Moroccan spices which at this point, neither of us cares to eat.

Finally, we spotted the green sign at the top of this photo, assuring us at long last, that we were heading in the right direction.

Our lifelong taste preferences can be changed for a few days or even a few weeks. But, none of us, prefer to eat the strong flavors of another culture’s food for months. For example, I love Szechuan Chinese food. Could I eat it everyday for over two months? No. Could one eat foods with Italian spices everyday unless  you were Italian, used to eating those flavors at each meal? No.

Ingrained in all of us, are the tastes most familiar in our lives and from our upbringing. Deviating for a period of time is acceptable but, not so much for the long term.  When Madame Zahra made our meal on Thursday without spices other than salt and pepper, we both moaned in appreciation not only for her fine cooking but for the familiarity of the simple flavors.

With French spoken in Morocco by many of its citizens and the fair number of French restaurants, we’ll have no difficulty finding French restaurants. The bigger problem is, “finding” those in the souk, many of which appear to be tucked away.

The fresh organic produce offered for sale at Le Jardin.

Yesterday, we decided to do a “repeat” and go back to Le Jardin, a French restaurant offering a combination of Moroccan and French influenced options. Having dined there recently, greatly enjoying the food and the ambiance, we decided to return. 

The first time we’d dined at Le Jardin, we stumbled across it during one of our many walks through the maze-like souks. We thought searching and finding it on one of the many online map programs would make returning a breeze. We encountered a few problems. 

They didn’t appear in any of the map programs. The map on their website was confusing and when I tried to call them to email directions, there was no answer. When I tried sending an email to their posted address, it was returned. We were on our own.

Today, we’ll return to the same general area to dine at this French restaurant we stumbled across when looking for Le Jardin.

Tom has the best sense of direction of anyone I’ve ever known. When we left there weeks ago, he had no trouble finding our way back to our home. Time having passed with many outings in the souks, he wasn’t 100% certain as to the course to take.

Needless to say, we wandered around the souks for 45 minutes until we found Le Jardin. We’ve discovered it makes no sense to ask shop workers for directions.  Invariably, the salesperson drags us inside their shop or to another shop, hoping we’ll make purchases.  We’ve learned that we must figure it out on our own. I suppose the shop workers have grown tired of giving directions to confused tourists.

Yesterday, we had another excellent meal while enjoying the birds and turtles roaming freely in the courtyard.  Hence, a few of today’s photos.

Here is one of the two resident turtles at Le Jardin. The staff carefully maneuvers past them when serving guests. It was hard to believe how fast these turtles move. They moved so quickly that I had a hard time taking the photo.  he turtles are on a constant “crumb patrol” mission.

Today, we’ll venture out again to a French restaurant we found along the way yesterday. Again, the souk will be packed with tourists especially as Spring Break becomes relevant in many parts of the world. However, we’ve yet had to wait for a table at any dining establishment.

At Le Jardin we were given two larger maps that hopefully will assist us in the future. The hostess, speaking excellent English, explained that tourists have trouble finding their restaurant which is tucked away at an unexpected location.

Madame Zahra made us this Moroccan spice-free meal which wasn’t bland at all with her use of garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper. From left to right, starting at the bread for Tom; sautéed carrots,  chips (fries) for Tom, egg battered sautéed cauliflower (my favorite), sautéed fresh green beans and fried mashed potato puffs for Tom. In the center is the rooftop grilled chicken with both white and dark meat which works well for us; Tom likes the white meat while I prefer the dark. As always, there is more food than we can eat. But, homemade Moroccan cooking consists of many items. 

In two days, on Monday, we’ll go out on a day of sightseeing which we both anticipate with enthusiasm, ending the day at a new-to-us, upscale French restaurant. See… even sightseeing is laced with concerns about FOOD.

Desperate times, desperate measures…Couldn’t wait until Friday…

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Sorry, but this is the only photo we have for today. It’s important for travelers to be reminded not to walk or step onto any grates, manhole covers, or the like when walking in a foreign country. Many years ago, a friend fell into a grate which resulted in a compound leg fracture requiring a US $25,000 fee for an air ambulance ride back to the US from Mexico. That was 30 years ago. Imagine how much it would be in today’s dollars! They had to borrow from family and friend’s credit cards to pay the fee in advance! As a result, both Tom and I do not step on grates or manhole covers which are everywhere in the souk, the Medina, and the streets of Morocco. We ask our readers to consider taking this same precaution, even at home. 

Last night, we became very worried. The illness had escalated. I could hardly walk across the room or pick up my head from the pillow.

Without a morsel of food in 24 hours, unable to eat, we asked that Madame Zahra makes two, three-egg omelets with cheese with unseasoned meatballs with no veggies and no seasonings. For Tom, she added, “chips” (French fries) and bread. An innocuous seasoning-free meal.

When Tom didn’t like his omelet saying something tasted “funny” and with so little of the food suitable for me, I ate both omelets. It wasn’t hunger as much as it was needed. Never in my life, did I eat six eggs in one sitting until last night. My body must have been craving the protein, especially when I gobbled up my share of the meatballs.

The thought of one more bite of Moroccan spices turned my stomach. Somehow, after becoming ill a few days after arriving in Morocco, I now associate the spices with the illness.

Feeling hot and cold all day, left me sweating by 10:00 pm last night and I went to bed with the room spinning.  As I lay there alone (Tom was still downstairs) I realized that Friday was too long a wait to take the Cipro. My plan of letting this illness work itself out had failed. I couldn’t take another day.

I called to Tom from the upstairs railing down to the courtyard below for him to bring me some iced water. I dug out the full bottle of Cipro from the pill bag, holding a large oval-shaped white pill in my hand, praying a three to five-day dose would help. When Tom handed me the ice water, I chugged it down. He tucked me in bed under the comfy covers.

Being ill and lying around for days, I’d already read all of the books on the Kindle app on my phone except for a few non-fiction scientific books I had started and yet to finish. There’s nothing like scientific research to lull one off to sleep. An hour later, the phone fell out of my hand startling me awake. It was 11:45, one hour and 45 minutes after I’d taken the pill.

This may sound utterly ridiculous, but I felt slightly better. The lightheadedness was improved and although my mouth was terribly dry, the feeling of toxic fluids running through my system was greatly reduced. Many may call this a placebo effect. This was no placebo. This was Cipro running through my system sucking up a raging infection. 

No longer did I think about having malaria. I was on the mend. I smiled from ear to ear, easily falling back to sleep and not awakening until almost 8:00 am this morning. Now, I won’t say I’m 100% better, but, I’m 50% better, a sizable improvement.

After this morning’s dose, I still have four more doses to take if I’m going with the three-day regime which the instructions indicate is acceptable if the symptoms have subsided after twice-daily dosing for a total of six pills.  At this point, at noon on Wednesday, I’m fairly confident I will return to good health by the last dose on Friday morning. 

Today, desperately needing to move about, we’re heading out for lunch to the same restaurant we visited last week PepeNero. Ah, who cares about trying something new? I surely could use a perfectly cooked piece of salmon and a few sautéed vegetables. Tom’s chomping at the bit for a Moroccan seasoning-free meal.

Don’t get me wrong, I do like Moroccan seasonings. But, with my illness and our unfamiliar taste buds, the spicy flavors become redundant after so many weeks. Most tourists enjoy the flavors for one or two weeks during their holidays. For the long term, it’s an acquired taste that neither of us has achieved at this point nor do we expect that we will be going forward. 

The long walk to PepeNero today is a bit intimidating. We’ll take it slow, stopping from time to time to take photos. The fresh air and sunlight will do us both good after being cooped up for the past four days.

Soon, we’ll reschedule our sightseeing trip and our upcoming out of town stay for mid-April. For now, I need to get back to doing the taxes and feeling well. Whew! We continue on, dear readers. We continue on…