30-31 October - Tarragona - Ceret - Perpignan

It was a little sad to be leaving Tarragona, and Spain at large, but exciting to be heading back to France, Ceret and more so, back to the Southern Hemisphere.

Taking the toll roads this time, we cut the drive time down to 2:30 hrs and arrived in La Jonquera, just south of the France/Spain border at 11am. Our aim was to each get a haircut at our usual hairdresser. We were both overdue, but for only 21E for the two of us, it is so much cheaper than haircuts anywhere else, especially France, that it was worth the wait. Alas, then it was our last Spanish coffee. We have both thoroughly enjoyed them, even the decaf ones that John sometimes ordered. The coffee is always strong, quite bitter (often a soupcon of sugar is necessary) and extremely rich and full.

Finding a carpark close by, we unloaded our gear into our apartment. Our tenants are currently in Luxembourg and knew we would be arriving back and repacking our gear. It's a real shame we will miss seeing them again before we leave. They won't be returning to Ceret until Saturday but we keep in regular touch. They are a great couple. With a bit of bread and cheese for lunch we quickly jumped back in the car and drove to the nearby town of  Le Boulou. This is where we have a friend of a friend who allows us to park up our car in his garage each winter while we are away. We've used it for perhaps 4 years now, and it works out very well. It's half the cost of parking it in a private garage in Ceret, if you can find a spare spot at all. We tucked the car up safely, said goodbye to it and rushed off to the bus-stop in time to catch the 1E bus back to Ceret.

The afternoon was spent rejigging our gear between the various bags we have been using, and getting everything to fit in our backpacks. Surprise, surprise, we have collected quite a bit of new stuff. Most of it is heavy books from the design museum in Alsace, various hard cheeses from Spain and France, a rug from Morocco(!), some wall-lights (Morocco again) and a few odds and sods. John was also determined to buy a really good 32" frypan while we were here, so we're taking back a heavy frypan as well! Oh well, we've done it before, we can do it again. 

Getting in to Perpignan on a wet morning was easier said than done. We intended to take the 11am bus, but it never turned up, so we had to drag our heavy bags back to the centre, where we left them in the lobby of our apartment. The next was at 1pm, so we chose to eat some pastries for lunch, then headed back down to the bus stop. This bus did turn up. Unfortunately Canigou with its coat of new snow was well hidden behind cloud.

Just had to visit our favourite bakery

The apartment-hotel we were to spend the night in was directly opposite the bus station, so we sat there for a few minutes until the reception opened at 2pm. When it opened we got up and went to the counter only to be roundly abused by a snooty Frenchwoman (Parisian?) who was all upset that she had arrived first but we went to the counter before her. If she had actually got up from the sofa she had been hogging to herself it wouldn't have happened. Very strange. I couldn't help but smile as it was so stupid, which upset her more! What a sad life she must lead to need to abuse people the way she did. We got a few good sympathetic eye-rolls from the counter staff.

Having got into our very nice room, we went into town to look for a little something for Bella and Nic's new baby due shortly, had half an hour in a cafe-bar, then wandered back to the room. While there, some money we'd been waiting to appear in our French account finally did so, so we were solvent again and could go and withdraw a bit of cash. Things had got a bit tight after our French rates and various other costs had come out, and we hadn't kept a good enough eye on the balance.

28 - 29 October - Tarragona

Tarragona is a fascinating place, at least the historic centre that we have got to know. On Sunday we spent the day wandering around, taking in most of the sites resplendent in their Roman ruins, plus walking along the waterfront adjacent to the marina. The ruins here are perhaps the oldest we have seen outside of Rome. They date from 200 BC, which was very early in the Roman Empire, certainly in Western Europe. The amphitheatre next door is particularly unusual because it has the remnants of a Gothic 13thC church in the centre of the old combat arena.

Tarragona Amphitheatre

The waterfront was just the opposite. Super modern and ridiculously luxurious cruisers and yachts were moored up, dwarfing everything else in the marina. The money that seemingly oozes out of them was pretty disgusting to be honest. One had a helicopter sitting on its back deck. However, I guess the multi-millions they must cost, plus huge running costs, is just par for the course for those in the world who are immensely well off.

Obscenity defined

By 1:30pm we were getting properly hungry, and failing to find a reasonable place to eat along the waterfront, headed back into town, where we had earlier spied a little place in one of the squares that would do the trick, though it was pretty cold to be sitting outside. However, on the way, we came across a small family-run restaurant, with a great menu board outside. We ducked inside, and what a great choice it was. We had a very tasty meal, our first real meat (albeit chicken) other than fish, in a long time. The husband and wife team were run off their feet. We arrived at 2:15pm, with most of the tables empty. By 2:30pm it was filling up fast. By 3pm people were queuing to wait for an empty table. The last ones to be seated arrived at 3:30pm. We never fail to be amazed by the eating times here in Spain. Wandering around town this morning, many of the tapas bars were full with people having a drink, perhaps with a little tapas, at 11am through to 2pm. After that is lunch-time. No-one was eating a meal before 2pm. Then, again tapas and drink at 7:30-10pm, then dinner. 

We were foot weary. Clocking up another 13km, we planned to have an easier day tomorrow. We've seen all the sights in Tarragona that we'd hoped to. It is another World Heritage Site (as was Elche) and has been a great place to visit. We really like the vibe, and prefer it immensely to Barcelona. It doesn't have the crowds of tourists, is wonderfully clean, with large amounts of money clearly put into public spaces, sculptures and signage. A wide promenade is currently being constructed around the water's edge. Wheelchair ramps and lifts already provide easy access between the historic centre and the waterfront below it.

So, on Monday we had  cruisy kick-off spending nearly 2 hrs on Skype with family was a great start to the day. We headed into town for a coffee and to find a few Roman ruins we had missed the day before, including the mausoleum of Jaume I. The latter is an incredible tomb, in the style of a vessel taking the king to the spiritual world.

Jaume I's tomb, very odd

We wandered around quite a bit, even though it was very cold, i.e. 9 degrees at 11am and with a cold wind. Our plan was to fill in time until the little restaurant we went to yesterday opened up for lunch at 1:30pm. No luck. Even though its website said it would be open, it wasn't. Plan B, very hungry and cold and on the lookout for a filling cheap meal. We found another place, not quite as nice but the hot bean soup 1st course was very good. Meat and frites next, but the hot chocolate to follow was the best. Like yesterday, we picked up a bread to nibble with bits for dinner. It took as a wee while to pack up our bags, ready for an early start the next day.

Tarragona cathedral. You can't beat a good set of cloisters.

Final thoughts on Tarragona - we really enjoyed our stay here. The locals appear generally a whole lot cheerier than our experience in other parts of Spain we know, and, though it's a bit city too, the small historic core has a lovely intimate feel to it. The Roman ruins are integral to everyday life, whether as part of current buildings or used for specific purposes, e.g. performances put on in the amphitheatre.

A Tarragona street, winter has arrived

27 October - Elche to Tarragona

Neither of us slept well, particularly me. I awoke feeling rather groggy. However, we both enjoyed a good breakfast and we were on the road before 10am. The trip planned for the day was to reach Tarragona, nearly 5 hours drive away.

The day before, on the route from Mojacar to Elche, we were driving through pretty arid country which was smothered with endless plastic-covered tunnel houses for growing tomatoes, peppers, and no doubt other fruit and vegetables as well. The weird rough conical hills that popped up irregularly on the landscape were really odd, no doubt remnants of hard rock, from which the surrounding soft rock had eroded over eons of time. The odd castle or fortification on a hilltop here and there, or caves dug into the hillside added to the intriguing scenery. It was a very enjoyable drive.

Rugged and harsh landscape

Caves in the hillside

By contrast, the route between Elche and Tarragona was rather greener, with vast hectares planted in orange and mandarin trees, the hillsides also terraced for orcharding, providing a much softer landscape. The weather had turned a little sour and it was cloudy and drizzly with the odd heavier shower of rain. The entire view was one of haze. We have encountered a lot of smoke in the air as we've driven through Spain, often having to turn off the air vent because it was so smoky or there was so much smell of fertiliser or whatever in the air. The drive to Tarragona was particularly hazy due to the low cloud, but it reinforced to us how unbelievably clear and blue the skies are in NZ. Needless to say, we are itching to see (or not see) clear air again.

After 3 hours on the road we pulled off at a roadside truckstop. These stops can generally be relied on to have top-notch local food, at very affordable prices. Our coffee was indeed wonderful, and much needed. I still didn't feel awake. We bought a baguette and went back to the car where we brought out a bit of cheese and tomato we still had in reserve, and made a few sandwiches, which we ate in the back seat. The weather was now really cold at 14 degrees and very windy. Really cold for us anyway - the coldest we've had since I don't know when. 

Back on the road, it was just under 2 hours until we rolled into Tarragona. It was a bit hit and miss getting in contact with our Airbnb person, but he soon turned up and showed us into our accommodation for the next three nights. It is right on the waterfront, and right next to the old Roman amphitheatre. Wow. What a stunning view. For only 50E/night, including breakfast essentials, it is amazing. If the weather is rotten for the next few days we don't care. The sofabed in the living room looks directly out towards the ocean, so we could very happily watch the waves, people strolling along the beach and ships parked just off-shore for hours.

A wonderful view, complete with ships anchored offshore

We enjoyed the drive here, though it was quite a long one. A few odd things appeared en route, including an airport with flash control tower and a radar array, but no runways at all! The place was obviously unfinished and now neglected. However, there are other new roads and highways going in all over the show, perhaps with the help of EU money. Spain seems to be coming right after the financial crisis.

After arriving here, and after a bit of a breather, we wandered towards town at 7:30pm-ish. The Roman amphitheatre 100m away is amazing, but there are plenty of other Roman structures not much further on. The pedestrianised historic centre appears very attractive, even in the dark, with unusually wide streets (which presumably allowed for Roman chariots and carts) and very old well-built buildings which are still in use.

Fun bollards

Seriously large Roman-era stones

Entrance to one of the old Roman Fora

The centre is very clean and well looked after, with plenty of life and vitality from the locals wandering around. It was the hour of the traditional 'passeggiata', when Europeans typically go for a stroll before wining and dining. We found a tapas bar which was open before 8pm and sat down to enjoy a plate of extremely tasty Jamon Iberican (Iberian ham) and sliced bread covered in tomato and chopped grilled artichoke between us. In fact, that was enough for dinner because neither of us was feeling very hungry. We were keen on an early night to bed. Amusingly as we left, we were thanked with a merci. It's not the first time - perhaps our time in France has left us with a French accent when we speak Spanish!

24 - 26th October - Mojacar to Elche

Our last two days at Mojacar were very relaxing. We walked down to the coast, along it, then back to the pueblo on Wednesday. Most of Thursday was given over to cleaning the house, washing down the car and other odd jobs. A last swim in the pool, coffee on the top public terrace in the pueblo where there is a magnificent panoramic view, and a much more satisfactory attempt at evening tapas at the bar just around from our place. For the latter, we ate some dinner at home, then wandered down at 8pm, when the kitchen at the bar was cranking up for tapas. The server thought it was a great joke that this time we made it in time for some cooked tapas and not just cheese and chorizo. So, with a beer for John, coffee for me, and four delicious plates of tapas, the grand sum of 10E was handed over. It is so cheap to live here. A cup of rich flavoursome coffee costs just 1E (NZ$1.70). We very much enjoyed our evening at the bar, surrounded by locals munching on tapas, no doubt before they went home and cooked dinner. By contrast, we went home and went to bed.

We have had a lovely time in Mojacar. We hope our friends the owners reciprocate and use our apartment in Ceret sometime. It took them 9 years to get to NZ (which they absolutely loved), after we stayed at this house in 2009 but Ceret is a little closer for second time around. Diego, a local Spaniard who looks after their house in Mojacar, arrived at 9am on Friday, so we handed over the keys, said farewell (in French - which we conversed in with him during the 2 weeks when we saw him) and turned the car in the direction northwards. So, we are finally starting on our trip home to NZ. 

Our plan for Friday was to drive the 2 hours north to Elche. Searching on the net for somewhere to stay, John discovered that Elche is a World Heritage Site, renowned for its prolific palm trees. We had wanted to visit it in 2009, but there were impossible roadworks at the time and we gave it away. It was settled by the Phoenicians in the 5th century BC. The urban area of Elche contains nearly 100ha of mainly date palms, numbering 70,000+ trees, though there are over 200,000 palms in the wider area. Obviously they're not over 2000 years old, but many are up to 300 years. The city is very proud of its palm heritage and there are many parks such as the Huerta del Cura within the historic area that contain some wonderful palm gardens. A number of the trees are particularly noted for their unique characteristics, e.g. 5 or 7 branches emanating at perhaps 2m height out of one trunk.

Five trunks at half-height

Seven trunks and over 200 years old

We arrived in Elche about 12.30pm, and checked into our Ibis Hotel accommodation for that evening. We'd stayed in the Ibis Budget Hotel in Barcelona on the way down and found it really good value, with a pretty decent breakfast. We set off walking the 3km from the hotel into the historic centre of Elche, marvelling very early on at the amazing palm gardens we were continually passing. The guy at the tourist office told us that the panorama from a nearby tower was worth checking out, but it closed at 3pm. We hot-footed it there, and the 170 steps up, to see a wonderful view over the city, complete with multiple palm gardens as far as the eye could see, plus ancient Moorish buildings.

View of one of the palm gardens from atop the tower

By 2:30pm we declared it was time for lunch, and thought we'd got it right for finding a Spanish menu of the day. Wrong again. Too late! We found a couple of restaurants that looked just the ticket, but they were full. Darn. Found another, with the menu for 3 courses at the typical 11E, so promptly sat down. It's just as well we weren't in a hurry. We chatted with two couples on a neighbouring table - they were French, from Brittany and near the Belgian border, and spend 6 months of each year in Spain. Meanwhile, we were all very slowly served our meal. We were served warm white and cold red wine! Why? The entrees were basic but fine, however the mains, when they finally arrived, were a little suspect. My hake looked on the light side of cooked. John's meat was cooked but in a very commercial Bisto-style sauce. At 3:50pm we decided we better shake a leg if we were going to wander through all the palm gardens on the 'list to see' from the tourist office. We stumbled across a medieval market (still closed for lunchtime at 4pm) very soon after.

Medieval market - we would  have loved to take one of these home with us

Pig on a spit

It was very nice walking through a few of these gardens, each of which held some quite remarkable examples of palms, with because of their size, shape or multiple branching. However, it was the cacti at one of the gardens that really gave the wow factor. Neither of us had ever seen giant cacti trees like we saw that day, nor such an array of huge and varied cacti plants. They were quite jaw-dropping and we spent a bit of time just gawping at them. Friendly neighbourhood ducks were also very photo worthy. 

Gorgeous duck

Huge cacti

Cacti trees

These must be incredible when in flower

All in all we very much enjoyed the few hours wandering from tree to tree, though towards 6pm, feeling very foot weary after 11km on the trot, and my tummy was feeling very unhappy post-lunch, we had to hotfoot it back to the hotel. I rapidly sent lunch on its way and spent an hour with my feet up before we trotted next door to the hypermarket and bought a tiny pizza, cheese, some drinking yogurt and bananas for dinner.

18-23 October Mojacar

We had two weeks stay at Mojacar but the time seemed to fly. Our days were pretty relaxed, normally based around a solid walk in the morning, salad lunch at home, reading, weights or a swim, perhaps a wander into the pueblo, and plenty of admin or research on the laptop. We repeated our 10km walk along the coast of a week ago on Sunday, and enjoyed it just as much, though we felt a bit more energetic than the first time we did it. John still had a bit of an uncomfy chest but we're pretty much right now. He was disappointed not to see the chameleon again!

The coastal walk

Rather a prime spot. No swimming pool though!

Today we did a 6km loop near the original site of Mojacar pueblo. It was on a hilltop not far away, settled around 600AD by the Visigoths. They terraced the hillsides, but obviously at some stage gave the site away and relocated to the current hill where the current township is located. We wandered along the valley floor which has historically been intensively developed for orange orchards and other fruits, but unfortunately now seems to be somewhat abandoned and in disarray. It's sad to see.

The weather was very temperamental, often with hazy skies, threatening rain or with the odd shower. We haven't been tempted to explore the beach at all, let alone swim. Seeking out a tasty Spanish lunch we returned to the port restaurant we'd enjoyed at Garrucha last week. We arrived at 1pm, but clearly that was way too early. The paella wasn't going to emerge from the kitchen at least until 2pm, so John chose a cheese and charcuterie dish for his entree instead, and it was very tasty, as well as generous.

Another day we wandered off to try a tapas bar just 2 minutes walk from our place. We figured it would be very pleasant to share an evening with some local Spanish, as we've kept pretty much to ourselves since we've been here. Unfortunately we were too early again. We arrived at 7pm, thinking a glass of wine and one or two tapas dishes would do the trick, but unfortunately the kitchen didn't even open until 8pm (and this is just for tapas, the forerunner to an evening meal). We settled for a cold plate of cheese and sliced chorizo, which was very nice, but ended up walking home by 8pm because we were getting hungry for our own home-cooked dinner.

John is cooking dinner as I'm writing this. It's a little tricky because the power has just gone out and he can't really see what he's doing on the gas cooktop. The power has gone on and off regularly during the last 3-4 days, as has the internet, often for long periods. It hasn't really been an issue, and we've just managed to Skype with Alastair, which was very nice. He's a box of birds.

We booked accommodation for the four nights between leaving here on Friday and arriving in Ceret on 30th October. We're getting pretty excited about heading homeward, and particularly arriving in Melbourne on 6 November, by which time our grandson may or may not have arrived. With Alastair flying into Melbourne for the last week of November, it's going to be a great family time.

Alastair is going to come laden with a number of books. I'm embarking on a course of self-managed study into the development of the Indo-European languages. My study will basically cover the diversification and dissemination of all European languages. I've sourced a number of books/textbooks online from second hand bookstores in the USA - they are being sent to Alastair (care of free postage within the USA). I'm pretty excited to be launching into this new research. I've no idea where it might lead.

15-17 October - Coastal Walks

Monday dawned fine and clear. We thought we'd walk along the seafront, then lunch, and grab some groceries for meals. The coast is a mixed bag. It consists of a vast row of apartments, hotels and shops and restaurants of every description. The expat community really makes itself felt here, with much signage in English, and many restaurants clearly aiming at the British (we suspect overwhelmingly English) market. No trouble finding somewhere to get fish and chips, a curry or a Guinness. We walked several kilometres up the coast and back without finding a place for lunch that tempted us more than a tiny little bar we'd seen as we started off, so back there we went.

Some dreadful sights along our walk. Most of the people we saw were English couples in their 60s and 70s, mostly terribly unfit and overweight. It's sad that in this pleasant and sunny environment they are not prepared to get out and keep themselves in some sort of shape. There's no way we could consider buying here. If there are people like us who want to do more than eat, drink and bronze, they are not obvious.

Back at our little tapas bar, for the grand sum of 2 euros each we got a beer and a plate of tapas. My tapas was ortiguillas, introduced as fried seaweed. It tasted utterly delicious, totally like a tender piece of paua. Looking it up afterwards on Google, it turned out to be fried snakelocks anemones! Unfortunately not what the owner thought, as it was a vegan cafe, and we are sure anemones count as animals. Having satisfied our appetites we did a good shop at the local Mercadona supermarket and headed back home.

Now that's a croissant!

For the Tuesday, we wanted to finally get a good meal out, so thought we'd go the 5km to the port town of Garrucha to the north. A good move. We looked no further than the second place we saw and had an excellent menu del dia. Entree, salad, plates of chipirones and boquerones (fried anchovies), dessert, a bottle of wine all included, and we were most happy (11E). Another quick shop to get some forgotten extras and back home.

Wednesday was the first day we really felt in good shape again after our colds, and we celebrated with a 10 kilometre walk along  the nice La Mena Macenas coastal trail to the south. Quite a different coast to the Costa Brava, with very old tired hills coming down to meet the sea. The rock here is very folded and shattered, with quite steep hills popping up from the plains. A highlight was what I first took to be a little lizard on some rocks, but on closer inspection turned out to be a sweet little green chameleon.

A little green friend

There's still a lot of evidence of the 2008 financial crisis, with a number of huge coastal developments completely abandoned at various stages of construction.

Along the coast

 

Macenas Fort

We wrapped up our walk with a repeat of the little tapas bar, including the delicious but vegan-illegitimate ortiguillas.

We are enjoying the meals we are making ourselves. Lots of fresh peppers and tomatoes, some chorizo sausage, ham, Spanish and French cheeses, local bread, olives and pickles.

The weather has been mostly sunny, but it seems to cloud over in the afternoons, sometimes with a bit of rain. Karen has got into the pool every day to swim and aquajog, but I'm finding it a bit nippy. The weather report is for a lot more sun next week so I plan to make better use of it then. Other than that, we are very much enjoying having a quiet time here, with plenty of reading and relaxing. We noted a few interesting sights when we were in the pueblo this morning. The police station is in the main square, and after climbing into a police car, the police-woman in the passenger seat immediately checked her hair in the wing mirror, and spent some time smoothing it so it looked good for her excursion. At about the same time, a council worker chugged along in his rubbish collection putt-putt, jauntily smoking a cigar and checking his cellphone. Life is so different here from NZ or Aus. Not necessarily better or worse, but different.

12-14 October - Mojacar

Even with a late bedtime we were awake by 8am. The breakfast we so good last time that we opted for it again. It was then so easy to throw our hand luggage into the back of the car, which was sitting happily in the hotel carpark, and we zipped off around the corner to a supermarket to stock up on a few provisions for the day-long drive to Mojacar, and a few things for breakfast the next morning to save us having to go out too soon.

Unfortunately the heat hadn't left us yet. The day was in the mid-20s, but the sun was strong, and the aircon in the car had given up the ghost, hence a hot trip south. We chose the toll roads, as it saved a full hour, and it was going to be a long day anyway at 7 hours. The trip went well. We stopped at a small town for a coffee, and rolled into our home exchange at 6pm, having tried to do another shop -  a failure due to it being a Spanish holiday. Our hosts' handyman Diego was there to greet us, and after some clumsy Spanish-English conversation, we discovered we each had decent French, which made explanations of doors, alarms and the like a lot easier.

A random castle along the way

What a nice place to arrive to! Lots of room, wonderful views, a pool and quiet. It was even better than we remembered from our 2009 stay here. We'd bought beer and some bits from the local Carrefour Express at the service station, so a quick drink and we were in the pool to cool off and start our time in Mojacar properly.

First view of our exchange home

Looking up to Mojacar Pueblo

Yes!

Next morning we thought we'd start with an exploration of the pueblo, the old town just above us. It was a steep walk to get to it, and we managed to stumble across a big Spanish wedding. Great fun. The groom soon turned up with his mother in a little Citroen Mehari, jumped out and proceeded to entertain everyone with an impromptu dance with the aid of the local band. The guests were all assembled outside the church, wearing their finery. People clearly get dressed up for a Spanish wedding. Super-high heels everywhere, with all manner of different styles of dresses. Clearly being large and curvy is no issue here, it's great to see. We were both taken by one extremely generously-sized woman in the tightest of tight fiery red dresses, flaunting her figure to all and sundry.

We didn't find anything that tempted us for lunch, as the town centre is clearly geared up for tourists and British residents, so we grabbed some pastries on the way back. A swim rounded out the day nicely.

Sunday being the day of rest, we did just that. Both of us left Morocco with colds despite the temperatures there, and we were not feeling the best. The most we managed was a trip out to get a coffee. They are superb here. Strong and tasty, just a single Euro each, and even the decafs are really good, without doubt the best I've had anywhere in the world. We think it is partly the generous dose of ground coffee used.

11th October - Fez to Barcelona

Our flight out to Barcelona wasn't until late in the evening so we had plenty of time to play around with on our last day in Fez. Check-out wasn't until noon, so I did a final workout while John brought the blog up-to-date. We left our bags in the dar and headed out at midday to have a look through the Nejjarine Museum of Wood Arts and Crafts. It was pretty impressive, both for the range of wood and furniture it had been made into. 

Museum building

Detail of a door

We do love the colours and textures of Arabic building

Around 1pm we returned to an eatery we'd been to a few days ago to have another omelette for lunch, plus mint tea of course. A quiet stroll back through the alleys, a few small purchases and we were back at the dar by 3pm. We filled in the time until our host arrived at 5:30pm. He'd organised a taxi to the airport and took us to the meeting point with the taxi driver. It was only a half hour trip to the airport. Bread and cheese for dinner again. We boarded at 9:30pm, arrived in Barcelona at 1am (with the hour time change), taxi to the hotel and to sleep around 2am. It was very nice to be back in a clean hotel. It was our second Ibis Budget and we were both impressed with it.

Wednesday 10 October - So long Morocco

We won't be at all sad to see the last of Morocco, and Fez in particular. I think it is safe to say we won't be back to either, ever. Nor will we willingly eat another tajine. There have been good things, and lovely sights, but not enough to balance the ledger.

Our last full day started horrifically, with a man climbing up the frame of our window from the terrace on the floor below and putting his head inside, about to climb in. We were only vaguely awake. I yelled at him, then jumped naked out of bed and bashed the hand that was gripping the window frame. Thankfully he had to let go and jumped down. Very scary.

A few minute later he was lying on his back on the terrace below, masturbating openly. Hardly the sight we wanted to get up to. We closed up the windows and curtains, and tried to settle ourselves down a bit. I couldn't get through to our manager on his phone, but sent an email to our host.

Thankfully we had a full day planned, and getting ourselves out of the room and away to Meknes kept us occupied. We started with a petit taxi ride to the train station (ripped off as usual, but we couldn't be bothered arguing). The train to Meknes was easy and cheap, even though we treated ourselves to first class. At the Meknes station we negotiated a price with an old Mercedes grand taxi to take us to the Roman ruins of Volubilis, then the pretty Berber/Arab town of Moulay Idriss, then to the Mansour Gate of Meknes. Despite a few minutes arguing we knew we were being ripped off again.

Fez Railway Station

The countryside here is very fertile. Olive trees and cropping everywhere. Some of the olives are very old; presumably there have been olives here for millenia.

Volubilis was interesting. It was about as far south into Western Africa as the Romans got, and was built over perhaps four phases. The building ruins were not amazing, but the number, variety and quality of the mosaics were. There must have been dozens, of which most were remarkably complete, and with lovely themes and scenes. Well worth the trip.

Pleasant path up to Volubilis

Looking across the centre of Volubilis

The triumphal arch

And down the main street

A fishing mosaic

Next was a drive up to a lookout point to view Moulay Idriss from above. It is a pretty little town set on two knobs, the slightly higher one more Berber, and the other more Arab. Our driver stopped us at a 'recommended' restaurant, where I checked the menu and we agreed to stop. Bad mistake - the worst tajines of the trip so far. Normally for the price of a tajine you also get what is known as 'Moroccan salad' - a selection of small plates filled with olives, pickles, sweetish condiments and so on. Not here. The tajines were the standard choice, chicken, meat or vege, with raisins as an option but not prunes. There's always remarkably little choice. We chose a chicken and a beef with raisins. Unlike many other places there was no Moroccan salad starter. Service was appallingly slow - 45 minutes from our arrival to the tajines appearing. When they did, they were the worst we've had in Morocco. The veges were only potato, some sort of bland melon and a few slices of carrot - no eggplant, courgette, tomato or anything with flavour. My addition of raisins proved to be exactly 3 raisins! A poor, tasteless meal, served by uninterested staff. Another ripoff.

Moulay Idriss

Berber streets in Moulay Idriss

On going down to the village, I realised we'd need a little extra cash, but we first took off for the top of the town for the views, the major sight to see here. On the way we were adopted uninvited by a local, as happens, who led us up through narrow alleyways, with walls painted a soft berber blue. Not amazing views but interesting all the same. At the top he demanded 240 dirham, nearly 20 hours of the standard wage here! We laughed. Back down he kept badgering us, reducing all the time until at the bottom I handed him 50 dirham, yet another ripoff.

The central square was full of nice little eating places where we no doubt could have got  a decent tasty meal for less than half the price. A quick visit to an ATM and we were set for the end of the trip. An uneventful trip back to Meknes, despite the driver doing his best to make it eventful with some very dubious passing moves. He wasn't happy when I only paid him what we'd agreed, and not all the extra 50 dirham we'd agreed if it was a good trip. The lunch stop and the return driving were too awful.

Moulay Idriss market

Moulay Idriss Market

Meknes was a disappointment. We'd had two special places we specifically wanted to see, the mausoleum of the ruler, and the Museum of Moroccan Art in an old building, but both were under restoration. The alternative museum should have been open, but it too never opened its doors. What we did see was the prison area where they kept 65,000, mainly Christian, prisoners as slaves, working them during the day and chaining them up at night in a huge vaulted underground hall. The price however was a ripoff (the final and 4th ripoff of the day), as there was nothing there except a totally empty cavern. We went wandering around Meknes for a bit, but, after the day we'd had, we couldn't face going deep into the medina to look at one place we were assured was open. Instead we jumped in a petit taxi back to the train station, hopped on the first train and made our way back to our room.

A Meknes streetscene

Bab Mansour Gate

Bab Mansour gate

Cara Prison

Apparently the police had been round, talked to our manager and the neighbours. Profuse apologies all round, and the offending man had been spirited away by his family.