Trip to the city of Funchal to customs…A drive home in dense fog…One year ago…Livorno, Italy….

Posted by worldwide-admin on June 7, 2014 with 0 Comment

Was this the statue we were looking for to indicate we were close to the post office? We didn’t think so.

Where do we begin? At 8:30 yesterday morning, we headed out the door, taking several items with us in order to pick up our awaiting package at customs in Funchal; my phone with the turn by turn directions on the screen, my laptop with Google Maps turn by turn directions and, a file on my desktop containing nine receipts for the customs office.

In order for customs to release the package to us, we had to travel to the main post office in Funchal, we had to produce receipts for each item and pay the subsequent VAT (value-added tax) and customs fees.

While we were in Funchal the dense fog rolled in.

Ideally, all of the receipts would have been in the package with the items. As those of us who shop online are aware we don’t always get anything but a packing slip in the box which may not indicate the actual prices we paid for the items. The cost of the items would be contained in the original online order receipt.

Thus, I gathered all of the receipts from my email folder, placing them in a folder on my desktop, ready to review. Our portable printer died and there was no printing facility within miles. As a backup, I put the receipts on a zip drive.

It looks like smoke, but its actually fog. I took most of these photos from the freeway through the car’s windshield.

As we walked out the door, we both felt a sense of trepidation. We hadn’t had much luck finding our way around Madeira when streets are poorly marked if at all, GPS doesn’t work and maps are impossible to read. We’d tried every online map app we could find. Apparently, Google Street View Car (or whatever they call it) hasn’t been to Madeira.

Tom knew how to get us to the “via rapida,” the freeway, in order to head to Funchal, the capital and largest city on the island of Madeira. Our first exit was 18 minutes down the “rapida,” Exit 9. It should be easy, but we weren’t optimistic based on recent experiences.

Having lived far from the ocean in Minnesota we rarely saw anything like this.

Carefully, we watched the exit numbers while I had my laptop open on my lap with the directions. My phone may pick up a GPS signal from time to time, but turn by turn directions are not dependable in Madeira. It was easier to follow the directions I’d saved on my computer.

As we passed Exit 8 Tom hugged the right lane hoping to turn off onto Exit 9. There was no Exit 9. We didn’t bother to go back and try again. We were positive we hadn’t missed it

A terraced farm on the hill.

I won’t spend the next 1000 words trying to explain how we eventually ended up at the post office. It was a combination of assistance from a kindly local, pointing us in the right direction, and pure and unequivocal “safari luck.” It took no less than 90 minutes to find it. Suddenly, out of the blue, we were at the post office that we more stumbled upon than found.

Inquiring about customs at the information desk in the lobby, we were pointed in the direction of the main post office, modern and not unlike those we frequented in the US. We took a number, found a seat, and waited 20 minutes, only to be told the customs office was across the lobby.

At points along the drive, the fog was only visible at a distance. The 80 on the speed sign is in kilometers per hour which is equivalent to 50 miles per hour.

Squeezing into a tiny waiting area, we began another wait, this time much longer, as a young couple loudly argued in Portuguese with the customs officer.

We were standing in this tiny hallway within four feet of the arguing couple with nowhere else to stand. It was evident that the customs officer was at the end of his rope. This would hardly help our case when the time came for our turn.

The fog rolled in quickly. By the time we exited this tunnel, we were shrouded in fog.

Finally, the couple left. He spoke English well enough to handle our business. We always prefer to approach these situations as calmly and diplomatically as possible. Within minutes, Tom had the customs officer laughing which helped temper my tinge of anxiety over the fact that our receipts weren’t on paper.

Aren’t we living in a digital world? Is there really a need to be use paper anymore? Much to our surprise, he decided to accept my handwritten list of the cost of the items in the box that I’d brought along as an additional backup. Gosh, I’m glad that I’d brought the list on a sheet of lined yellow legal paper even if it was written in my usual illegible chicken scratch.

There were puffs of fog on the road as shown in the left lane.

All in all, we spent over an hour with the customs guy, chatting, laughing, and having a good time. He charged us only EU $42.60, US $58.13. The cost of all of them in the box was US $586, EU $429.43. The taxes were less than 10%. It could have been so much more from what we read online, as much as 40% of the value of the contents.

Once again, we were reminded of the importance of diplomacy and kindness. It doesn’t always work but, it certainly reduces the amount of stress when trying to “negotiate” with a service provider.

Finally done, we vigorously shook hands with the agent and were escorted to the loading dock where we paid the EU $42.60, picked up the box, and were on our way back to the parking ramp across the street. Tom managed the bulky box while I carried my laptop wrapped in my waterproof jacket. It was raining.

On the way home, we stopped at the local grocer for a few items. While I shopped Tom purchased a few muffins at the bakery next door.

A few months ago, a screw fell out of Tom’s laptop causing his screen to crack from opening and closing. We’d hoped that we’d find a computer store in Funchal. Luckily, there was a mall we had to enter in order to go to the parking ramp with a huge computer and digital equipment store.

Tom took the box to the car while he grabbed his computer while I waited for him in the mall. We headed to the tech support department of the huge store. Again, we took a number waiting no less than 30 minutes, only to discover that although they serviced Acer computers, they didn’t have the screw. Off we went.

By the time we were home four hours later this was the view from the veranda. Not quite as beautiful as the usual ocean view, but interesting none the less.

Considering the rain and dense fog, we decided it was best to find our way back to Campanario, stop for a few items at the little grocer, and settle in for the day. As shown in our photos, there was a full fog cover preventing us from seeing the ocean from our veranda. Our drive back up the mountain was uneventful as I busily took photos of the fog.

We’ve since put away the items in the box which included: clothing, iced tea packets, a few cosmetic items, a few bottles of vitamins that we must take (B6 for Tom, probiotics for both of us, etc.), a pair of Keds walking shoes for me and some odds and ends, all of which we needed for continuing on.

Whew! We couldn’t be more thrilled to have that package situation out of the way and go back to relishing in the beauty of this wonderful island and its kindly citizens.
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Photo from one year ago today, June 7, 2013:

We stayed on the ship when we arrived in Livorno, Italy. With little interest in riding on a bus with 40 people to see more old buildings, we decided to stay behind enjoying quiet time at the pool. With this as our final of eight cruises for the year, on our way to Venice, we had to pick and choose which excursions were worth it to us. Ultimately, we were pleased with the choices we’d made as shown in the prior photos. For details of the date, please click here.

What’s happened to our package?…Its stuck in customs!…

Posted by worldwide-admin on June 4, 2014 with 0 Comment

Last night, this view at sunset took our breath away.

The package. Oh, goodness. What a pain! We received packages in Kenya and South Africa without too much trouble. I guess that in Portugal, it’s a bigger deal. Yesterday, we went to the post office in Ribeira Brava with the tracking number for the package.

After a 30 minute wait, while the rep went back and forth on the phone with the main post office in Funchal, we were told we have to find all the receipts for all of the items in the box and take them to the main post office in Funchal, the capital city of Madeira.

Last night as the sun began to set around 9:00 pm, it casts these beautiful lights and sky over the valley as shown from our veranda.

Luckily, reasonably good record keepers that we are, we had all the receipts in a folder in my email. Recently, our portable printer quit working. Printing the receipts is impossible.

Another view at sunset as the light quickly changed over the valley.

Instead, we’ll bring my laptop to the post office to show them all of the receipts which I placed, page by page, on a single long Word document to avoid searching through my email at the post office.

Today, Tom went alone to the ATM by the supermarket to get cash to pay the fees. (It’s the first time we’ve been apart in over three months when I went to a girl’s only lunch with Kathy and Linda in South Africa).

The total value of the items in the package is US $593.64, EU $436.12. We’d better bring at least US $300, EU $220.39 to pay for the fees. With the 21% VAT (value-added tax) plus other taxes and fees, this could total the entire US $300.

Although we can’t see the sun as it sets we can enjoy the colorful sky at sunset each night.

Who knew? The most we had to pay for a package of which we’ve received a about four since we’ve left the US, was approximately US $25, EU $18.37 in South Africa when a prescription arrived through customs. I suppose we should have thought of this before ordering the products we needed. Most likely, we may have placed the order anyway. These types of expenses “go with the territory.”

The challenge when we go on Friday morning will be finding the post office in Funchal. With little to no help from any online map apps or working GPS finding anything in Madeira is tricky and time-consuming. It’s that part alone that will make the trip more annoying than the time we’ll end up spending at the post office.

With strong winds off of the Atlantic Ocean, the sky changes before our eyes as the sun sets each night.

We’ll report back as to the outcome and subsequent costs of the duty fees we’ll be required to pay.

Also, we haven’t been able to find the two restaurants located in our area. No one seems to be able to do more than point “up” in the general direction. With the winding, hilly, roads with multiple one-way streets and hairpin turns, there’s no easy way to explain where anything is located. Certainly, it’s no fault of the locals when even they can’t explain how to get to a specific location.

A view at the top of a hill while we were in Ribeira Brava for the trip to the post office and dinner at Muralha.

The drive to Funchal is mostly highway making the trip easy until we get close to the busy city and confusing central road system. We shall see how it goes.

Last night, after the trip to the post office we returned to Muralha Restaurant for the second time which is located across the street, for yet another fine dinner with extraordinary service, heading home well before dark.

Tom was ready for his large mug of beer on the far left bottom.

We’ll be relieved once this package thing is resolved and our stuff is in our hands. By the next time we need supplies, we’ll be living in Hawaii, USA, making the receipt of items easy and uncomplicated although with costly shipping.

Our waiter brought this fresh fish platter to the table so I could choose my meal. I choose the seafood skewer with squid and prawns. It was amazing with the chunks of squid cooked to perfection and not as chewy as usual in most restaurants.

Ah, the trials of travel are frustrating at times, some of which could be avoided if our requirements were less. But, in order to fulfill some of our creature comforts, medical, clothing, and supply needs from time to time, we ultimately make our own lives a little more complicated.

There’s my gluten-free, starch-free, grain-free, sugar-free dinner. I had a side of steamed vegetables and a part of Tom’s salad (mainly the veggies he won’t eat). Once again it was a fabulous meal!

We always try to remember that in our old lives, for example, we drove to Costco on a snowy day, purchased a huge cart of stuff, loaded it into the car while our hands were freezing, drove it home, unloaded the car with freezing hands, hauled it into the house and then put it all away. This included a huge expenditure and a tremendous amount of time and effort.

Tom gave me the chicken legs off of his plate. He doesn’t eat the dark meat which makes whole chickens ideal for us. Check out those chips! I don’t make these at home. Ever!

I suppose in a way, our lives are easier now, even with the annoyance and cost of dealing with the receipt of a package three or four times a year, after placing the orders online. Life is always a series of trade-offs, wherever one may live or travel.

At this point, there’s nothing I would trade for the life we currently live.
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Photo from one year ago today, June 4, 2013:

We were on our way to Barcelona, Spain from Dubai, UAE to sail on a cruise from Barcelona to Venice, Italy through the Mediterranean Sea. Our flight to Barcelona was on Emirates Airline, a first for us. We were fascinated with the handheld remote we had at our seats for viewing movies and for the first-class amenities at a coach seat. For details of that travel day when we ended up staying at the same hotel we’d stayed in Barcelona before the cruise to Dubai on May 5, 2013, please click here.

It’s been how long since we’ve done what???…Three days until departure…A museum visit a year ago,,

Posted by worldwide-admin on May 12, 2014 with 0 Comment

The prices on the jewelry was very reasonable.

Last night during Madame Zahra’s delicious homemade dinner we talked and giggled over things we hadn’t done in a long time as we’ve continued to travel the world, living in other people’s houses.

The earrings at MAD 20, were only US $2.45.

As we continued into our discussion, we laughed over the many items that we had taken for granted in our old lives, some of which include:

16.5 months since we’ve used a dishwasher
2.5 months since we’ve cooked a meal, grocery shopped for meals
13 months since we’ve watched US TV programming
8.5 months since we’ve done our own laundry
2.5 months since we’ve made the bed
24 months since we’ve been to a movie theatre
19.5 months since we’ve seen most of our family, 17 months since we’ve seen others in our family
11 months since we’ve been on a cruise
17.5 months since either of us have been to a doctor
17.5 months since either of us have been to a dentist (continued below)

Many of the items were very appealing, again priced at whatever a shopper may be willing to pay.

In the past 16.5 months, we’ve only had a car for 3.5 months
11 months since we’ve had access to American type meals
2.5 months since we’ve raided the refrigerator at night to look for a snack
8.5 months since we’ve been able to drink and brush our teeth using tap water
2.5 months since we’ve had an ongoing relationship with English speaking people. (We did have one short conversation six weeks ago at Le Jardin restaurant with a couple at the next table )
2.5 months since Tom had a beer or cocktail at home (only twice in restaurants)
2.5 months since eating: our favorite coleslaw, LC homemade pizza, our bread-less sandwich wraps, a veggies stuffed omelet, ketchup with Tom’s fries, lettuce, a slice of raw onion, a steak cooked properly, a pork chop, Italian sausage and most of all, bacon (No pork is available in Islamic countries)
1.5 months since I’ve been able to wear a tee shirt and shorts (once the sand flies arrived as the temperature warmed, now in the 100F’s)

This shop had all types of souvenirs and trinkets.

What do we miss the most (obviously, besides family and friends)? Tom misses knowing that there’s a car in the driveway giving us the freedom to come and go as we please. I suppose I miss doing laundry the most. The feel, the smell and the sense of accomplishment of washing, drying and folding our clothes is a ritual that I’ve always found pleasing. For both of us, we miss eating our favorite foods.

Photo taken while walking when I noticed the vendor was not inside his tiny shop.

The thought that in only three day, we’ll arrive at a new home where will be able to begin some of the above, is exciting. Long ago, I would never have given a second thought to any of the above items. How freely we adapt, ultimately changing our expectations and subsequently, changing our needs.

A well fed cat at ease living in the souk.

The plans are set for the 2:00 pm pickup on Thursday here at Dar Aicha. The man with the little cart will arrive with Adil or Samir to wheel our luggage to Mohamed’s awaiting SUV. Tomorrow, the final loads of our laundry will be handled by Madame Zahra and Oumainma, neatly folded, ready to pack. Wednesday morning we’ll pack, sucking the air out of the Space Bags as always.

Without a doubt, we’ll be ready for the next leg of our many year’s long journey.
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Photo from one year ago today, May 12, 2013:
Today is the last day we’re catching up from my posting error resulting in photos being posted from the incorrect dates one year ago. I apologize for the inconvenience. But, here is one more photo from May 12, 2013 and once again, the link for our readers who many have missed it over the past few days. Some of our most exciting year ago photos are coming up in the remaining days in May. Please stay tuned.

At the Cairo Museum, on May 12, 2013 we saw this statue of King Ramses II that was lying down inside a specially constructed building. Apparently, it was too heavy to stand. For detail of that date, please click here.

Are we becoming seasoned travelers?…Soon to depart Morocco…A year ago…The cruse adventure of a lifetime began…

Posted by worldwide-admin on May 7, 2014 with 0 Comment

These beautiful photos of Moroccan women are offered for sale in the souk.

This morning the pigeons cooing, the rooster crowing, the birds chirping and the Islam Call-to-Prayer awoke me at 6:41 am. My first task of the day over these past few weeks has been to check for new sandfly bites. Alas, another bite-less night! I bolted out of bed, ready to start the day, a smile on my face.

Tom was still sleeping, as I tiptoed to my “dressing room,” another bedroom I use to avoid awakening Tom which is around the corner, also overlooking the open courtyard. I was anxious to get ready for the day, get downstairs, make tea, check my email, glance at Facebook, and sit down to begin writing as I do each and every day.

Although many packaged candies and cookies have different names then the familiar brands, these products have similar packaging making it possible for tourists to choose what they like.

With only eight days until we leave Morocco, we’ve begun the mental process of winding down. As for the packing, it will occur closer to departure. A few days ago we made our final payment for the upcoming two and a half months in Madeira, Portugal.

We wrote to Gina, the lovely owner of the house in Madeira, asking that bottled water, bar soap, a coffee pot, a WiFi password, and keys be left at the house for our midnight arrival. And also, we asked that a map with directions from the airport in Funchal to the house in Brava Ribeira be sent to us via email a few days before our arrival.

Dyed yarns hanging to dry in the souk.

No longer do we think about packing until a few days before we’re to depart. No longer do we feel anxious about the flight, security, long lines, immigration, layovers, and lost luggage.

Finally, we’re beginning to feel like seasoned travelers. After all, we’ve been on the equivalent of 25 or so vacations in a row in the past over 18 months, some for one day, some for three months, and everything in between.

Although this shop was closed last night, some products remain outdoors. It appears there is little risk of theft when the souk owners look out for one another and with armed guards in the Medina at all hours.

Of course, as we’ve said in the past, they’ve never felt like vacations. How could they? Vacations end. Vacations have the anxiety of ending, midway through. Vacations are a break from daily life. This is our daily life.

A point that we’ve mentioned on occasion when talking to people we’ve met, is that we have no place to return to in order to repack, as many long term travelers do, to an apartment or condo somewhere in their home country or at the home of a family member with whom they live with for short periods. Nope, not us. This is it.

These colorful scarves are often low priced, often as little as US $2.47, MAD 20.

To repack, we merely go into the closet or cupboard where we currently live and take out the same stuff, albeit with a little wear and tear, placing it into the now worn luggage consisting of our combined two large bags, two small bags, and two computer bags. We’ve learned to travel lighter, physically, and mentally.

Becoming a seasoned traveler doesn’t make us exempt from learning. At every turn we learn, we adapt, we remain open to new ideas and experiences and we kick ourselves for those times when we “should have” known better. But, it’s all a part of the process.

More beautiful giant oranges.

After all, in most people’s daily lives, they glean new knowledge and new experiences simply from living. The only difference for us, is the frequent change in our surroundings, offering new opportunities to stimulate our brains, our senses, all the while opening our hearts to new people, new ways of life, new cultures, and new scenery.

Many of you have or have had these same opportunities while being rooted in the homes and towns to which you’ve become familiar. The difference for us is the familiarity part. We don’t have a familiarity to any great extent. Although, in certain locals, we’ve felt as if “we’re home” when returning from outings. I imagine that those of you who have closely followed us, know exactly where those places were.

I must admit that we look forward to that familiarity, even for short periods. It adds so much to the experience. Does that mean that we’re longing to be settled? Not at all. We love this vagabond lifestyle even though at times it’s not ideal. But, isn’t that life anyway?

Of course, we’d love to be able to take better photos in the souk, but the owners resist in most cases, resulting in taking photos without the ability to stop and focus.

Today, we’re staying in. Going out into the crowds and dining out has worn thin. We can easily depend on entertaining ourselves staying in while reading, writing, listening to podcasts, and chatting with each other.

We continue on, for now, and over the next several days, living in the moment, filled with hope and a tinge of anticipation for that which is yet to come.
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Photo from one year ago today, May 7, 2013:

This was a portion of the glass floor in the casino on Royal Caribbean’s Mariner of the Sea which we’d boarded the prior afternoon. This cruise was the most exciting, adventurous, and memorable cruise of the eight cruises on which we sailed in 2013. Check back here each day for more photos from that cruise and the exciting stories of our experiences. For details of the post on that date, please click here.

Time is ticking away…19 days and counting until departure…

Posted by worldwide-admin on April 26, 2014 with 0 Comment

Orange trees are often seen growing in the center courtyards of restaurants including where we dined last night, Arabe.

As we rapidly approach, our departure time, now only 19 days away, we marvel at how quickly the time begins to fly as usual, regardless of our level of enjoyment and activity.

Reducing our load over the past year, packing is no longer a dreaded task, requiring only three hours or less in order to place everything into the Space Bags from which we’ll suck the air using our little handheld vacuum.

Once we’re down to one week, I’ll begin sorting and folding, with all of our clothing inside cupboards as opposed to drawers. In a cupboard, the clothing seems to get messy.

A quiet area in a souk while on our way to dinner. Although there were no crowds in this area last night, we had to be careful where we walk with many grates, manhole covers, and tripping hazards.

Fortunately, TAP (Portugal) doesn’t have strict baggage requirements, making this flight and the next when we leave on August 1st to fly to Paris, less of a concern than ever in the past.

Yesterday, I placed a shipping order with our mailing service located in our home state of Nevada, Maillinkplus.com, to ship all the supplies we’ve ordered for a shipment to be sent to Madeira. When we need items, we take advantage of free shipping when available by various websites having it all shipped to the mailing service.

Many US websites don’t ship outside the US. Nor, do we want packages arriving piecemeal when the risk of losing a few may be high when shipping oversees. As a result, with our large mailbox at the mailing service each year, we can accumulate all of our orders waiting for the upcoming shipment to wherever we may be at the time. The staff at Maillinkplus.com removes all the boxes and shipping materials, placing the individual items in one large box to be shipped to us.

The view from our table at Arabe Restaurant, where we dine each week. The waiters have come to know us always offering excellent service.

Once they inform us of the cost, we place the amount we owe into our account with Maillinkplus.com which they use to pay the shipping costs. They research the best pricing for us. In this particular case, using UPS Express is less expensive than DHL or FedEx and safer and more reliable than USPS.

Madeira is an island 604 miles from the coast of Portugal. As is the case with any island, the cost of shipping is higher than one might expect. For us, it’s a cost we’ve budgeted. When our order arrives, we’ll post photos of its contents.

Gina, the lovely property owner of the house in Ribeira Brava lives across the street from the house we’re renting. The package will be sent to her house to hold until our arrival.

Another view from our table. Deep colors are commonly seen on walls
in various establishments.

Need I say that we’re excited to arrive in Madeira? The upcoming beautiful contemporary house overlooking the ocean will be a dramatic change from the crowded, busy lifestyle of living in a souk for the past two and a half months.

Although enriched by the experience of the cultural differences in Morocco, we anticipate the slower pace of Madeira with enthusiasm. With a rental car for the entire period, we’ll have the freedom to explore its many treasures on our own time. With summer approaching, Madeira has much to offer as well as a quiet respite we’ll surely relish in our new surroundings.

Last night, we headed out for dinner, once again making our way through the busy souks. By late Friday afternoons, the weekend tourists fill the souks anxious to shop, negotiate, and buy what they may perceive as the “deals of the century.”

My dinner, referred to a Kefta, includes meatballs, tomato sauce, and eggs dropped into the hot mixture, all befitting my way of eating. I always order a side of grilled vegetables.

No offense is intended regarding this common tourist activity. At one point in my life, I too, loved the shopping in foreign lands, falling prey to the purported “bargains.” The shop owners are on alert harking their wares to those shoppers whose eyes happen to steal a peek at their products, all of which are neatly displayed ad ready for sale minus any marked prices.

Last night, after dinner we stopped in a shop to see if we could find a leather computer backpack. With this Tom could carry both of our laptops leaving his hands free. In the past, we were opposed to backpacks due to the risk of someone putting something illegal into them or taking something out. But, as time marched on, we’ve come to realize that a lock would be an ideal solution if, in fact, we found the correct style.

Luckily, the shop owner spoke some English seeming to understand what we were looking for. When he didn’t have what we wanted, he asked us to wait while he left the shop, returning five minutes later with a leather laptop bag to which he’d attached backpack straps.

Tom’s pasta dinner, sprinkled with Parmesan cheese includes a side of bread with no vegetables. He doesn’t care for vegetables except for green beans and carrots which he’ll eat when Madame Zahra cooks.

As a courtesy, Tom tried it on although I could tell that no way would this setup work as a backpack. The shop owner explained that he’d work on it overnight making it a suitable backpack with the proper positioning of the straps, even adding padding.

Out of curiosity, I asked him the price of the backpack considering the adjustments he’d make overnight. He quickly quoted 700 dirhams, US $86.18. Without giving it a thought, not interested in the bag, Tom said, “Too much,” as he grabbed my hand and walked away.

A photo of the colorful flip flops and shoes taken while on the move. Most vendors won’t allow photos of their wares.

Immediately, the shop owner yelled after us, “100 dirhams (US $12.31), monsieur!” Wow! That’s quite a price reduction! In any case, the bag wouldn’t work for us and we left.

In a way, I felt sorry for him. For him to willingly drop the price to what would surely give him little to no profit was evidence of a desperate need to make a sale. With many of the shops frequently empty with numerous “lookie loo’s” drifting by, we can see how difficult it would be for a vendor to make a living.

Most of the vendors spent 12 hour days sitting on little stools outside their shops hoping to make a sale. The vendors are usually men. Women are rarely seen selling in the shops although they may be found in the Big Square offering baked goods or non-permanent tattoos while they sit on little stools under umbrellas.

Tomorrow, we’ll be discussing our observations on the obvious distinct roles of men and women in Morocco, a real eye-opener for us.
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Photo from one year ago today, April 26, 2013:

Due to the storm, taking photos was not a priority on this particular date. As an alternative, here is a photo taken the prior day. For detail of the post on April 26, 2013, please click here.

Every night, while we were at dinner, the cabin steward would place an animal made of towels on the bed. This was a monkey. Also, there would be chocolates on our pillows and an agenda for the next day’s activities.

Confusing evening out…Running in circles…Made a purchase in the souk…

Posted by worldwide-admin on April 5, 2014 with 0 Comment

To capture this photo I had to zoom through the restaurant’s railing when the customer sitting next to me grumbled when I tried to stand to take this photo. These trees were at least one mile, 1.61 km, away from our location, perhaps more accounting for the blur. But the color amazed us.

I often mention Tom’s superb sense of direction. When we’re driving or walking I always leave the navigation to him. As a result, I pay no attention to a path we’ve taken in the past and can never retrace our steps. That’s his job as “Chief Navigational Officer!”

The chair of the person sitting next to me in the restaurant prevented me from standing from my seat at the table. I had no choice but to take this first shot of the sunset last night while seated with this railing obstructing the view.

However, his usual fine skills are left blowing in the wind when walking through the souks of Marrakech. It truly is a maze. Google Maps/Street has not sent their vehicles through the souk to create accurate navigation in which way to maneuver on foot from location to location in the maze of the souk.

The sunset a few minutes later than above.

Also, the roofs in the souk may have an effect on the satellite images. (The assessment of this is not within my range of expertise so I apologize if I’ve stated this incorrectly).

And then, the sunset, creating this colorful backdrop;

Although a specific location may be illustrated on the map, from our experiences so far, the directions aren’t accurate. As a result, finding our way to the restaurant is challenging, especially when they’re off the beaten path, as was the case for a restaurant we searched last night, Café Clock, #3 on TripAdvisor.

Finding highly rated restaurants in itself is quite challenging when we no longer want to dine in Moroccan restaurants nor do we always want to take a taxi to go out for a casual meal. International restaurants are in short supply inside the Medina, where any location can be reached on foot, if we can find it.

This little vehicle appeared to be an ice cream truck.

Late yesterday afternoon, with two things in mind, we took off on foot. We’d carefully checked the map, able to spot the general location of the restaurant. One was to purchase a black leather belt for me and two, to find Café Clock where we’d have a leisurely dinner.

Finding a location to purchase a belt was as easy as finding a casino on the Las Vegas Strip. There was one after another. We figured it was more practical if we waited until further away from the weekend crowds in the Jemma el Fna, the most popular area of the souk attached to where we live. With fewer crowds, we’d get better service and perhaps a better price.

At this point, is was approximately 6:00 pm in the Big Square.

Our guess was good of the service, not so much on the price. I wanted a belt similar to the one I had in my old life that I wore to its death, tossing it after many years of use. Knowing my preferred style made the shopping easier, a wide black belt, without sequins and jewels on it (I usually prefer simple as opposed to bejeweled items).

Another criterion was that the belt would fit well enough that it wouldn’t have a long flapping tail, always an annoyance. The end result; a wide, woven leather black with an adjustable clasp in silver.

The Big Square was beginning to fill with tourists as the festivities of Friday evening began. Fridays are holy days in Muslim countries and the souk is uncrowded during the day. As the afternoon wears on, the tourists arrive for the weekend, and once again, it’s packed.

Along the way to the restaurant (so we thought), we spotted a perfect shop in the souk, selling shoes and belts. Preferring the shop owner not show me one belt after another, I showed him my preferred style. He steered us to his backroom where I easily found what I wanted.

Asking him the price, he said US $30.69, MAD 250. We settled at $ US 18.42, MAD 150. My former similar belt was US $25, MAD 203 when on sale at a local boutique in the US.

The pastry and cooking vendor carts always appeal to me. Tom, on the other hand, who could try some of these, won’t buy one cookie saying none of them appeal to him.

Sure, I could have purchased it for a few dollars less but based on the soft leather which he claimed was “camel leather” (which may or may not actually be camel leather) and the good construction, I felt the price was fair. Tom grumbled that I’d overpaid when the owner left to install the buckle that I was able to choose. I scoffed at him, saying I was content.

Yes, I’ve read all the online comments about not paying more than 50% of the asking price, and then it may be close to fair retail. But, thoughts ran through my head during this small transaction, that we may have been his only sale for the day in this more remote location in the souk.

The smoke began to billow as the food vendors starting cooking for Friday night’s dinners under the tents. The smells are amazing.

As a former business owner I can recall, only too well, all the times that clients asked me to lower my fees. It was a painful decision to make when the cost of doing business was so high. It was only after the market failed in 2008 that I had no choice but to coalesce in making the numbers work for clients, a factor that eventually inspired me to retire a few years earlier than I’d hoped.

When the shopkeeper hesitantly agreed to the MAD 150, I felt comfortable True to form, Tom let it go and we continued on in search of Café Clock which was supposed to be around the corner from Le Jardin, where we’ve dined on several occasions.

Still unable to stand freely with the people next to us, I shot this photo through the ornate railing. This vendor had four or five other men with him who would pick up the items while yelling, creating an atmosphere of a frenzy in order to attract buyers. Rather clever, isn’t it?

After walking down every alleyway in the area, after over an hour of searching, we gave up, deciding to go to the Big Square (in the center of the Medina) and find any restaurant whereby the outdoor menu gave us hope for an acceptable meal. As we’ve often mentioned, we prefer to avoid bashing local businesses unless we feel we were intentionally “ripped off.”

A less than desirable meal could be a result of an off day, a cook being out sick, or the lack of ability of the owners and managers of what appeals to their public, a surprisingly common occurrence worldwide.

We had no idea on the final asking prices on these items that didn’t sell quickly during the frenzied activities over a period of one hour.

We chose a restaurant on a second level with excellent views of the Big Square. Many tourists chose this location for its good view and wine-drinking only as we noticed the waiter looked surprised when we asked for menus.

Tom ordered what was referred to as an “American” pizza and I ordered two entrees after showing the waiter my restrictions list which included grilled chicken chunks and tagine vegetables. I thought he fully understood: no sugar, no starch, no rice, no potatoes, no wheat, and no grains, clearly illustrated on my food list on my phone. He didn’t.

A closer look at the pastry cart. Yum…

My vegetable tagine arrived, half-filled with potatoes (which I removed) and my plate of chicken arrived with a side of rice (which I also removed) and chips (French fries) which I gave to Tom.

Tom said his pizza tasted like frozen pizza which I’d never made for him in our 23 years together. Surely, they’ve improved over the years. But, he ate the chips, the bread, and the pizza (I kept my mouth shut over his carb-laden unhealthy meal) when he hardly likes any available foods in Marrakech. Who eats fries with pizza?

Moroccan women are not involved in the aggressive selling techniques utilized by men. Most women selling products do so sitting on the ground in the Big Square, not inside the souk. We’ve only seen two women selling in the souk shops, neither of which attempted to get us to make a purchase.

After dinner, we headed to an ATM to get cash for the halfway mark tips for the staff which we’ll present to them today, explaining more will follow before we leave.

Today, we’ll stay in while we continue to shop for airline tickets for our kids and grandchildren for Hawaii at Christmas time. So far, we’ve purchased five tickets with eight more to go which hopefully we’ll have completed over the next 60 days. Rates change several times a day as we continue to check back every few hours.

We have more good photos than we can share in one day. We’ll be back! BTW, this morning I received an email from Café Clock with their hours of operation which I’d requested yesterday before we tried to locate them. They’re sending us a map. We’ll try it again!
____________________________________

Photo from one year ago today, April 5, 2013:

This photo is from of one of our last night’s out in Belize with Tom ready to tackle this giant Marguerita when we were out to dinner from our next-door neighbor Bill, a friend we’d made while in Belize who was also from the US, formerly living only about 35 from our old house. Small world. For the story from April 4, 2013, please click here.

Note: My computer had the wrong date resulting in my mixing up the photos from the 4th and 5th. The above photo is from April 4, 2013. Tomorrow, we’ll correctly post the photo for April 6, 2013, and we’ll be back on track. Sorry for the confusion.

Chilled to the bone…49F (9C this morning)… What do we wear?…Only women will get this!…New photos!

Posted by worldwide-admin on March 31, 2014 with 0 Comment

This cat found comfort sitting atop the seat of a parked motorbike.

One of the aspects of traveling the routes we’ve chosen has been to avoid cold weather. When we researched temperatures this time of year in Morocco, we’d never expected it to be as cold as it’s been.

Luckily, the sun was out again as it filtered through the slats in the ceiling of the souk.

Keeping in mind that we’re almost living outdoors with the open courtyard, the largest room in the riad around which all other rooms are situated, it’s not unlike living in Kenya in the outdoor living room instead, with the unbearable heat, humidity, and mosquitoes.

This shop’s specialty was hand-carved wood chess boards and pieces.

Definitely, I’d rather be chilled than in scorching heat and humidity. Its a lot easier to bundle up than take off clothing to cool down which hardly seems to help at all.

Clothing shops are popular in the souks as tourists strive to bring Moroccan styles back home. From what we’ve seen, the locals buy their garments from shops in the side streets away from the tourist areas at more affordable prices.

The trouble is, we have a few warm items with us having not planned for such chilly weather. Tom has one lightweight zippered sweatshirt and I have two long sleeves warm BugsAway shirts, one white, one pale green, which I seem to switch off every other day. The 70 washings guaranteed to maintain the bug deterrent features of these two shirts will be washed away before I ever get to go on another safari.

Bangles and the little pots are commonly sold items.

The only other long-sleeve items we have are our two long-sleeve BugsAway cotton safari shirts which we each often wear when we go out under our jackets of which we each have two, one parka and one slightly heavier weight.

One could get confused trying to decide on pairs of sandals with endless affordable offerings from around the souk.

In Kenya, after donating more of our clothing I left myself with only a few pairs of jeans shorts to wear during the three months in South Africa. After wearing them every day they began to wear out and I noticed the fabric thinning, wearing through at certain points. One was awfully low slung and the other not as much.

Colorful small tables used in home décor.

As a typical woman in my old life, I’d have gone shopping, trying on 15 pairs of shorts, to end up purchases a few for the new season. Since we’ve been gone 17 months without shopping, I currently have a dilemma. Styles have changed, sizing may have changed and its no longer as simple as going online and purchasing a few pairs of shorts to be sent when they may not fit.

Pillows in Morocco are filled with very heavy durable material making them rather heavy. With the numerous pillows where we sit in the salon, we’ve found it difficult to move around, they are so heavy.

You may think…go shopping! Ha! I dare anyone to find a pair of jean shorts in Morocco, respectably long enough to go out in public at age 66, that fit properly when most women’s pants are typically low slung anomalies. Now, I can live with a bit of a low slung pair of pants but not those with a zipper only as long as my thumb!

Leather handbags, carryon bags, and other travel bags are popular in the souks.

Knowing we’ll be receiving a box of supplies while we’re in Madeira for which we’ll be adding the new camera when it comes out on April 20th, now is the time for me to figure out a solution to include in the box.

Several shops comparable to a boutique type store are found in the various courtyards between the souks, as in the case of this store where we spotted this bronze horse.

Why only jeans shorts? They are durable, can be worn several times without looking ratty, don’t wrinkle and above all, are comfortable. I donated all the khaki shorts I’d originally included in our luggage after wearing them only a few times. For me, jeans are my first choice for long pants, capris, and shorts. Style was long ago sacrificed for practicality and comfort.

Bead and jewelry making supplies.

Looking online for a few hours, I became frustrated, feeling that I’d never get a pair of shorts that would be guaranteed to fit. Of course, I put my little brain to work on a solution. Boom! As often happens during the night, I had an idea.

Almost every day, except for washing day, I’ve been wearing a pair of Old Navy jeans that I love. I’m not an easy fit; tall, relatively lean and with overly long legs, a 35″, .89m inseam. Try to find that in a country where the average woman’s height is 5’2″, 1.57 m! Old Navy has always had jeans that work for both my size and height.

Cute puzzle made n the shape of camels.

Yesterday, after unzipping my pants, Tom read off the labels on the inside of my jeans including the style name, style number, and the size. Immediately going online to Old Navy, I was excited to find they still carry the exact same style and size. On sale for US $49, MAD 399, each they were down to US $34.50, MAD 281 each. I ordered two pairs in varying shades.

When they arrive in a few months, I’ll cut one pair off for shorts and the other pair for capris, rolling up the ends into narrow cuffs. Having done this on many occasions with old jeans, I have no qualms that I can easily do this again using one of the few pairs of sharp scissors we have on hand.

The dark, busy souk is a challenge to navigate when crowded with locals, tourists, bicycles, donkeys with carts, hand-pulled carts, and motorbikes.

Problem solved. I placed the order for the two pairs of jeans and a few more dressy looking tee-shirts suitable for dining out. My total order was US $101, MAD 823, with free shipping to our mailing service in Nevada, USA. Of all things, an hour later I received a coupon for US $40, MAD 326, as a reward for my purchase if I was willing to spend another US $100, MAD 815, between now and May 5th. Hopefully, I can convince Tom to use this credit for himself.

Of course, anything new we receive requires disposing of an equal weight of things we already have to keep the weight of our luggage acceptable to airline standards. Fortunately, I have already planned what I’ll toss before we’re ready to leave Madeira on July 31st.

This is what I should be admiring as opposed to cookies I can’t eat.

In the interim, I will continue to wear the heck out of the clothing of which I plan to dispose of. Tom also wears the same tee shirts and button-up shirts over and over, as you’ve seen in our photos with a plan to wear them out as well. Yes, I get sick of looking at his same tee shirts, although clean, day after day, as he most certainly does mine.

Who’d ever thought we’d be planning and contemplating the long-term wear-ability of a pair of shorts or a tee-shirt? In our old lives, if a tee shirt looked worn, it became a rag or was plopped into the trash with nary a thought. Now, I can spend 10 minutes looking at a tee-shirt with the intent of determining its fate…keep or save…keep or save. Ha!

We giggled when we saw this traditional phone booth.

In a funny way, I enjoy this triviality of our lives. Fashion-forward in my old life. Fashion free in my new life. I think I like it better this way.

Today, we’ll be going outside the Medina with more photos to share tomorrow. I’d hoped to take a video of the birds flying inside the house early this morning. Alas, hardly any birds flew inside this morning although I was waiting with camera in hand. Perhaps, another day.
______________________________________

Photo from one year ago today, March 31, 2013:

A year ago today, we were living in Belize and it was Easter day. Having few photos from our old lives when neither of us enjoyed taking photos, I’d posted a few older dessert photos on that date, including this butterscotch pie I’d made for Tom using 12 egg whites for the meringue and a homemade rolled crust. I have posted this photo in the past and apologize for the repeat if you’ve seen this before. This link will take you to that date and other desserts from our old lives, including Tom’s custom-made retirement party cake. Please click here for the link.

Good morning, Marrakesh! With open arms, you welcome us into your enchanting world…

Posted by worldwide-admin on March 2, 2014 with 4 Comments

Here’s the guy with the wheeling cart hauling our luggage through the Medina with Adile at his right. When checking our bags in Johannesburg, it was required to have all of our luggage was wrapped in plastic for security reasons.

Entering the Medina with our luggage, where motorized vehicles are not allowed.

Where do we begin? We won’t bore you with too many details of the misinformation we were given by the gate agent in Johannesburg that we’d have to collect our luggage in Casablanca, take it through customs, and recheck it for the final flight to Marrakesh.

The views from the plane became more and more interesting the closer we flew to the city of Marrakesh, Morocco.

The city of Marrakesh presented an awesome sight as we approached the airport.

When the four bags didn’t appear in Casablanca, we imagined they were lost. Trying to stay as calm as possible, which we did rather well during the entire 29 hours of travel time, we tried to get answers. We couldn’t find anyone who spoke English well enough to explain our dilemma.

Most of the eight ascents and descents in the 29 hours, required Tom breaking down six pieces of hand luggage including the cart when we had to use to steep outdoor steps when the planes are parked on the tarmac. Rarely, are the tubes used in many countries. On two occasions we had to board a bus in order to get to the tarmac to access the steep steps. Cumbersome.

Honesty, with our worldly possessions well insured, we were more worried about the time and inconvenience it would cost us than the loss of our stuff. We had all the important electronics, documents, and prescriptions in our carry on. Finally, we found am English-speaking agent at the counter for our final flight to Marrakesh that said, “No worry. Your bags have gone on to Marrakesh.”

The man with the car and Adile (pronounced “Agile”) as they began to enter the Medina.

After an hour of worry, we were able to make it to the final gate and breathe a sigh of relief. Oh well, if that was the only thing that happened in 29 hours, we were happy. Yes, there were other incidents of misinformation but, we’ve learned that it goes with the territory.

As Samir explained when we asked about the customs of Morocco, we are not to take photos of the faces of locals without their permission. his is a custom we’ve experienced in other Muslim countries which we will honor and respect. Going forward, we’ll make a point of capturing the many sites, with more time to stage the photos.

Tom, a former hothead, amazes me in his commitment to avoid ever being viewed as the “ugly American.” In doing so, he stays calm and unruffled in the worst of situations. I’m the eternal optimist avoiding ruffled feathers at all costs. Practicing calmness actually has made us calm. It’s funny how that works.

Adile, as he opened the front door of our new home.

Upon picking up our luggage at the Marrakesh airport using the “free” luggage trolley (we have yet to pay for a cart at any airport outside the US), we made our way to the entrance of the airport to look for Samir, our houseman for our new home, Dar Aicha. (Residences have names in Africa as you may have noticed from our past posts).

Upon entering the door to Dar Aicha, our private home for the next two and a half months, we were taken aback by its majestic charm. This center courtyard is surrounding by the many rooms of the house and is open to the sky.

In no less than 30 seconds, there stood a tall, handsome young man with our names on a white sign. Samir immediately took charge, loading a new SUV with all of our belongings. The driver, Hamouda (spelling?), will be at our service as needed, having worked for Dar Aicha for many years.

With three floors of living space at our disposal, we have to choose where to lounge as we write here today.

Once we arrived at the Medina, another 20 something male house employee, Adile, guarded the cart as it was traversed by the man in the above photo, for the 15 minutes it took to work our way through the crowded Medina, through the souk, to the house situated amid the awe-inspiring activity of the old city.

This morning I caught Tom off guard as he exited the bedroom to join me to begin our day. Many more house photos will be posted in the near future as we settle in.

As we made this walk, the exhaustion flew away while the adrenalin was pumping with our excitement. We couldn’t get enough as our eyes were flying from left to right, our nostrils flaring with the mouth-watering aromas, and my fingers itching to touch the gorgeous silks and fabrics.

In Dar Aicha, birds are free to come and go into the house at their leisure.

Unfortunately, we were on a mission to keep up with the guy with the cart and didn’t want to detain the three of them with our tourist-like gawking. We’ll soon go out on our own, anytime we want. The photos shown here today, taken of the Medina and the souk were done in haste while moving quickly through the crowded narrow vehicle-free streets. I promise many more will follow.

Last evening, candles were lit to add to the already inviting ambiance.

Once we entered Dar Aicha, considered a small palace on three levels with a staff of four overseeing to all of our needs, we were in awe. Oh, good grief! Our needs are few: meals, bottled water, clean towels and bedding, clean house, and clean laundry.

This sideboard displayed a series of lit candles in the dining room, specifically for our enjoyment.

There are multiple buzzers for us to ring, on each level if we want something. We can’t imagine ever pressing it. But, one must consider the customs and the fact that service help is standard in much of Africa providing jobs for many of its citizens, from what we’ve experienced in the three countries in which we’ve lived thus far; Kenya, South Africa, and now Morocco.

With the original intent of dining out frequently now down to perhaps once a week, we’ll be more than happy to dine in, content that Madame Zahra knows how to cook for me. Tom, bless his heart, is totally on board with dining in, after last night’s fabulous dinner. Tonight, fish is on the menu which Tom rarely eats but after last night’s dinner he’s prepared to try anything.

We’ve decided we’d like dinner at 6:30 pm as opposed to 7:00 pm for a few reasons; one, we don’t eat much during the day and two, Madame Zahra will be able to leave earlier.

The vegetable first course, served to us by Madame Zahra last night. More food than we could eat, we stuffed ourselves, delighted when everything presented except the bread in the upper left corner, was befitting my restrictive diet.

With the language barrier and the crowds, it will be difficult to inquire about my way of eating from food vendors on the streets. I’m here in yet another country having the time of my life rather than living in a wheelchair constantly in excruciating pain. Do I complain or even think about what I’m missing in foods? Never! I’m grateful for every moment of my life.

Madame Zahra, Dar Aicha’s resident cook for many years, arrives before 9:00 am each morning and stays until after she serves dinner and cleans up. This morning only minutes after arriving, she delivered a tray with fresh grounds-free French pressed hot coffee to the salon (the living room) where most likely we’ll spend most of our time when not out and about or sleeping.

Last night, with a little trepidation, we were seated at the table in the dining room at precisely 7:00 pm, Madame Zahra’s usual serving time. Worried that Tom wouldn’t like the spicy foods and that food befitting my way of eating would be difficult to prepare, within minutes our worries wafted away when plate after plate of delicious foods was presented at our table; the varied vegetable dishes first and later, the grilled seasoned chicken which she cooked over an open fire on the rooftop.

Last night’s dinner clearly illustrated that living in Dar Aicha with Madame Zahra in the kitchen will only add to the joy of our experiences in Marrakesh. When we read the many five star reviews on Dar Aicha, we observed how other guests also preferred to dine in, after trying her delicious meals.

This grilled chicken was perfectly cooked and seasoned to perfection.

After a great night’s sleep in the 50F, 10C, cool to us weather, bundled under a fluffy down comforter and blankets, it was hard to stay in bed long. With a two hour time difference from South Africa, I was up and about at 5:00 am and Tom shortly after, both of us anxious to begin the day.

By 6:00 am this morning, I finished unpacking and Tom, a borderline procrastinator, will be done by the end of the day. Now, at 10:30 am, our laundry is being washed, our bathrooms are cleaned with the smell of pine, and our bed is neatly remade. (I always keep my clothing and toiletries in another bedroom to avoid waking Tom when invariably I arise earlier).

And yes, once again we had to decide as to which room we’d sleep in and which one I’d use for my things. Once again, it took us a half-hour to make a decision, especially considering yesterday’s tired state of being when our brains weren’t fully operational in our tired state.

This morning, on the rooftop, our first glimpse daybreak.

What’s my excuse for asking Tom where certain rooms are in this spacious home, invariably starting out in the wrong directions? I never had a sense of direction anyway. Why would that change now?

Soon, we’ll get out to explore this culture-rich diverse city, much of which begins at our doorstep. Also, we need to locate an ATM and a pharmacy since all of the shampoo and conditioner were squeezed out of the bottles in my suitcase when it was tightly plastic-wrapped at the Johannesburg airport.

There is no way that living in Marrakesh will ever result in a boring day, unsure of what to do with ourselves. Then again, we’ve haven’t had a dull day in the 16 months since leaving Minnesota on Halloween, 2012. Actually, to be more specific, we haven’t had a dull day in almost 23 years.

Note: The WiFi in Marrakesh is inconsistent and slow at times. On occasion, as shown today, we’ll have formatting issues over which we have no control. We apologize for the inconvenience and kindly ask you bear with us. Thank you!

Is running out of new photos an issue?…What do we do in the event this occurs?…A trip to the local dump proved to be interesting…

Posted by worldwide-admin on February 23, 2014 with 0 Comment

At the Marloth Park dump, we found these Marabou Storks everywhere. If photo ops don’t come to us, we’ll go to them.

Writing every day is challenging at times, especially when we’re kicking back and relaxing. Would one have photos and stories to share in their everyday lives? Hardly.

In our old lives, weeks could go by without a single thought of taking a photo. Also, we’d never learned to take photos. Life was too busy to take on another hobby. As a result, we only used a camera on special occasions, neither of us showing a propensity toward any skill.

For me, no skill? No interest. That’s how perfectionist-types operate. That’s why I don’t play golf. For that matter, Tom, good at most sports, hasn’t played much golf either, getting easily frustrated when he doesn’t play well enough by his own standards.

From afar, these birds look pretty. Up close, not so cute in the face. These birds are carnivorous eating other birds, carrion scraps, small rodents and have a propensity for human garbage and can digest rotten animal matter.

Now, back to posting daily and it’s challenging…

Yesterday morning, after posting, today’s post was fast approaching as being one of those days that writing this blog left me stymied. I had no new photos to post. I could run around the yard to look for small things or interesting vegetation or even, if necessary, stand in the road waiting for a photo-worthy event.

The height of a Marabou Stork is approximately 152 cm, 60 inches; weight is 9 kg, 20 pounds; the wingspan is 3.7 m, 12 feet. They have the largest wingspan of any bird. The Marloth Park dump is thoroughly cleaned out every few weeks. It is where many of the locals bring their garbage with only a small percentage having pickup service. We haven’t observed any recycling in Kenya or South Africa.

To prepare for our upcoming dinner party on Monday, Okee Dokee picked me up at 11:00 am Saturday morning to go to Komatipoort for groceries. Having created a menu and a grocery list I was ready to tackle the weekend crowds at the strip mall.

While waiting in line at the grocery store, I mentioned to Okee Dokee that in the past 16 months since leaving Minnesota I’d yet to purchase any underwear. Add the fact that we’d unloaded so many clothing items along the way, my inventory was sparse and worn to the point of ridiculousness. I’d never gone so long without purchasing undergarments or clothing for that matter.

The Marabou Stork will eat anything it can swallow, including shoes, clothing, and tin cans. They can become aggressive if fed by humans when they are refused food. Although not vultures, their behavior exceeds the traits of vultures whose diet consists of animal remains.

Having whipped through the grocery store quickly, she led me to a local clothing shop. I was pleasantly surprised when we entered the store. Although a small shop, there was clothing for women, men, and children of all ages. We promptly headed to the women’s underwear department where, upon approaching, I squealed with delight. They had rather modern items and styles, all reasonably priced and of decent quality. I’d have to toss the old stuff, avoiding increasing our luggage weight.

Ten minutes later, a bra and eight pairs of panties were being rung up for a grand total of US $23.16, ZAR $259. What? In the US, I would easily have spent US $75, ZAR $838.67 for this type of quality. What’s wrong with this picture?

After making the purchase we headed to the ATM area with two machines, neither of which was working, prompting us to head back to the ATM at the Marloth Park Bush Center which once again worked with ease.

This injured zebra was near the road when we drove by. It wasn’t enclosed in a fenced area. This fence happened to be on the edge of a property. This injury could easily have been a result of a kick from another zebra. The distended belly of a zebra is common. Their intestinal tract is such that they become bloated with gas from eating massive amounts of vegetation each day. They are prolific at passing gas, as we’ve heard fro time to time. Hopefully, this injury heals on its own.

Afterward, we drove down one of the two only paved roads in the park. Okee Dokee, aware of my photo dilemma quickly made a sharp left turn into the local dump. (As yet, we hadn’t seen any wildlife). Wouldn’t you know, the dump was not only littered with garbage (which is entirely removed every few weeks), but was also littered with what I’d originally thought were beautiful Marabou Storks.

Thus, the photos we’re showing today are the storks we found at the dump. Leave it to Okee Dokee! As we slowly meandered down the road toward African Reunion House I chuckled. I don’t recall ever taking a camera to the grocery store in my old life.

This morning at 6:30 am while contemplating getting up I heard animal sounds outside. Quietly and slowly I exited to the bedroom to look out the full wall of glass to the garden. Scattered among the bush were no less than 50 impalas, 25 Helmeted Guinea-Fowls with chicks, and one large lone male warthog.

Male impalas along the side of the main road in Marloth Park on our return drive from grocery shopping.

Quickly I awoke Tom, and together as quietly as possible, we opened the door to the veranda, camera in hand. Alas, the impalas scattered, but the warthog and the “guinea hens,” as Tom calls them, stayed behind.

Mr.Warthog was very shy, as we’ve noticed in the lone males. He meandered about the garden for a half-hour finally checking out the pellets, deciding to partake. The guinea hens and chicks had a blast picking away at the large pellets, easily knocking them into smaller pieces. Even they are fun to watch.

The baby warthogs are getting huge. When the mom is ready to mate again, she’ll leave the babies to fen for themselves as their own maturing life cycle begins. This particular mom has been a favorite of mine. She has no fear of me, makes eye contact that is endearing, and is such a good mom, holding back while the babies eat the pellets first. I always make a point of tossing several in front of her and only then does she eat them. Warthogs eat on their front knees which have tough pads from the day they’re born.

As for the rest of today, this morning after posting, we’re heading to the little house to pack all of our stuff to bring it here for packing. Originally, we’d planned to do it on Tuesday, the morning after the dinner party. But, we decided to get it done and off of our minds.

We’ll put everything in the main floor guest room, shutting the door until Tuesday when we’re ready to begin the dreadful task of sorting and packing everything we own into two large suitcases, two overnight bags, one duffel bag, and two computer bags. Everything we own. More dwindling down. Letting go of more stuff due to increased weight restrictions over prior flights.

Flight info from South Africa to Marrakesh, Morocco…29 hours of travel time if no delays…Yikes! We’re moving to a new house for the weekend…details tomorrow…

Posted by worldwide-admin on January 30, 2014 with 0 Comment

02/28/2014 – Departure 2 stops

Total travel time: 19 h 50 m

Johannesburg	Cairo	8 h 0 m
JNB 9:45pm Terminal B	CAI 5:45am +1 day Terminal 3
Egyptair 840
Economy/Coach (Q) \| Seat 28K, 28H \| Confirm or change seats with the airline*
Layover: 3 h 25 m
Cairo	Casablanca	6 h 0 m
CAI 9:10am Terminal 3	CMN 1:10pm Terminal 2
Egyptair 847
Economy/Coach (Q) \| Seat 24K, 24J \| Confirm or change seats with the airline*
Layover: 1 h 45 m
Casablanca	Marrakech	0 h 40 m
CMN 2:55pm Terminal 1	RAK 3:35pm Terminal 1 (Arrives on 03/01/2014)
Royal Air Maroc 803
Economy/Coach (U) \| Confirm seats with the airline *

Price Summary

Traveler 1: Adult		$711.70
Flight		$468.00
Taxes & Fees		$243.70
Traveler 2: Adult		$711.70
Flight		$468.00
Taxes & Fees		$243.70
Expedia Booking Fee		$14.00

Total: US $1,437.40

ZAR $15,305

In order to begin the above flight for our trip to Marrakesh, Morocco on February 28th, we must also fly from Kruger/Nelspruit Airport to Johannesburg Tambo Airport in South Africa at another cost of ZAR $2036, US $191.21 which we booked yesterday. We’d booked the longer leg of the journey in early December.

Our combined cost for all four flights is ZAR $17,341, US $1,628.60.

With the airport in Nelspruit quite a distance, we plan to have Okee Dokee pick us up at 2:30 pm (14:30). With road construction and Friday afternoon traffic, an early start is necessary. Plus, there’s a two hour time change from South Africa to Morocco. Our arrival will feel as if it is 5:35 pm (17:35) to us when we finally arrive.

Including picking up our baggage in Marrakesh, going through immigration and customs, and the drive to our rental home, we’re estimating an additional two hours. In total, we’ll be traveling for 29 hours. That is if there are no delays and/or missed flights due to delays. There have been substantial delays on most of our flights thus far. We shall see how it goes.

You may ask, “Why are we going to Cairo, Egypt in order to get to Morocco?”

As you can see, Morocco borders Algeria in the upper left, and yet Egypt is located in the upper right of Africa.

In a perfect world, we’d fly from South Africa at the southern tip of the map, directly to Morocco. Nope. Not possible, unless one charters a private plane, an option definitely out of our budget.

When we began the planning of spending almost a year in Africa, we knew getting to Morocco was challenging. In every case in our planning, we’ve checked flights in advance of committing to the rental of a property.

The key to making this lengthy travel time bearable will be our ability to sleep for a few hours on the flight during the night, on the eight-hour leg from Johannesburg to Cairo.

Neither of us is good at sleeping sitting up. Neither of us naps during the day, naps in the car, or doze while watching a show or movie. When we’re tired, we go to bed. We can only hope that the flight isn’t crowded (we expect it will be) and we can find a way to sleep. If we don’t, we’ll have a tough next day. But, in the realm of things, a day after we arrive, we’ll be rested and it will all be behind us.

Two and a half months later, when we leave Morocco for Madeira, we’ll have a much shorter flight, under three hours. Madeira is located off the coast of Portugal which is shown on the above map as above and, to the left of Morocco.

On the flights to Morocco, we’ll have to collect our baggage up to four times, going through customs twice. This is a daunting task even with our greatly reduced load. With everything we own in two large suitcases, two medium bags, two laptop bags, and one duffel bag, this isn’t easy.

Tom does most of the hard work due to my bad shoulder, especially when none of the airports have the “tubes” in which to gain access both on and off the planes. As a result, he ends up hauling a huge amount of the carry on load up the long and steep flights of steps from the tarmac to the plane. He dreads this part. I dread this part for him.

There it is, folks. This nomadic life we live is not always easy. However, once we get through the hard parts, we relax, making a concerted effort not to worry or anticipate problems. Instead, we do everything we possibly can do, over which we have do have control.

The rest, over which we have no control? We have to leave it to chance, hoping and praying for a safe transition, choosing not to worry while we revel in our remaining 29 days in Marloth Park.

The inconveniences? Well, they go with the territory.

Note: Check back tomorrow for photos and stories of the new digs we’re moving into for the weekend, a luxury vacation home! Can’t wait!

Tag: Our stuff