MARRAKECH

As mentioned before, Marrkech was full of winding narrow alleyways.  They were packed with even narrower shops having everything from crappy souvenirs to expensive jewelry (fashioned from Moroccan stones) to craftsmen who still baked and made metal and leather goods the traditional way.  But there were some big things as well, like palaces

and mosques

and fountains.

After checking out the big stuff all morning, we broke for lunch and ate in a riad restaurant.

A riad is an interior courtyard with an open roof–the idea being to provide shelter from the bustle of the street but still enjoy the outdoors.

At night, the food stands take over.

One after another after another, each with a long picnic table, a grill and an impressive display of food . . .

. . . and in my case, an owner who I didn’t even need to ask to pose for a picture.

MOROCCO

I’m not sure what makes a place eligible for this body of work, but Morocco clearly makes the cut.  This is extra significant because I  really didn’t choose it as a desitnation.  I decided on an organized trip this time, and the only group that met my timeframe was going there.  I did no research on the place and did not even look at my itinerary.  As it turns out, unexpected delights awaited me at every turn of the narrow alleys of Marrakech,

the twisty mountain roads that take you away from the city,

and the many-roomed casbahs in the countryside.

One of the many pleasant surprises about Morocco was that I felt like I was a lot further away than I really was.  A six and a half our flight would get me to London, which is merely “different”, or to the hub city of Casablanca, which is “exotic”.  And after a layover that was just long enough to finish the first of many mint teas, I boarded the plane for the 45 minute flight to Marrakech, where it got even more exotic.

Being a big fan of the movie, it added to the excitement to board by the stairs.  As I walked across the tarmac, I thought of the closing scenes and half expected Ingrid Bergman to be standing in front of me.  But as it turned out, Humphrey Bogart didn’t shoot any Nazis and none of the Usual Suspects had to be rounded up, and an hour later I was in Marrakech . . .

The End of It

As I mentioned earlier, there wasn’t much to see in Doha, and that is one of the reasons I went there.  After 4 weeks of being on the go, I hoped to finish up by simply relaxing in a modern, hassle-free place. And that is exactly what I did, especially with the visit to the Inland Sea out of the way. I spent the last day doing nothing but swimming in the Gulf or the pool, staring at the various shades of blue, and reflecting on an amazing month.

I am happy to report that I can still see this image vividly with my mind’s eye.

I had planned on going back to the Souq Waqif that night for an end-of-trip celebratory dinner, but when the time came, I didn’t.  At that point, the effort of sitting in a taxi in traffic for 20 minutes each way seemed like too much. Instead, I simply walked to the mall and got some kabobs at the food court. And was quite content to do so. I had already squeezed more than enough adventure and excitement out of this trip. Besides, even though it was a food court, I was still in the Middle East, eating kabobs no less.

And the next day, I was home.

As I said at the end of the last World Tour–that’s my story, thanks for listening. Unlike the last trip, when I was ready (actually eager) to be home, this time I could have kept on going. But that’s OK. I need to have something to look forward to. Some material for Where’s Mike, Volume III, which I can’t wait to bring to you. Until then, this is your host, signing off.

 

 

 

Inland Sea, Qatar

About 40 miles South of Doha lies the “Inland Sea”, which is not actually a sea, but an inlet of the Persian Gulf that separates Qatar from Saudi Arabia.  It takes about 20 minutes to get away from the city, and then you drive for 30 minutes across rocky desert lined with natural gas fields.  Lots of big smokestacks with flames at the top.  There were signs all along the road saying that it was prohibited to take pictures of the industrial areas.

And then the road ends, the sand dunes begin, and you let the air out of the tires for the next half hour of the drive.

We were zooming along the ridge of one dune that was about 200′ high, which sloped sharply down at about 60 degrees.  I was pretty scared, thinking that we were going too fast, and would wind up sliding down the side by accident, and rolling over 50 times.  And we DID wind up sliding down that slope, but it was no accident.  Without any warning, the driver cranked the  wheel, and down we went.

But not to worry.  As I learned, you can get away with a lot on sand dunes.  You don’t tip because the car sinks so far down into the sand.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CDc0Y8fhtUo&feature=youtu.be

We went up and down and sideways across the dunes

until we made it to the sea, with the mountains of Saudi Arabia on the other side.

Doha, Qatar

From Thailand, it was time to start heading home, by why backtrack when the earth is round?  I decided to break up the return trip with a stop in the Middle East.

Even though Qatar has been named “The Richest Country in the World”, it does not drip with luxury the way Dubai does.  Still, it is clean and modern, with some interesting architecture.

The buildings are even better at night.

Some even change color.

One taxi driver told me that they were mostly empty, which I believe.  There weren’t many people walking around downtown.

There isn’t a lot to do there as a visitor, but I still enjoyed it.  Most of the population is foreign, with people coming seemingly from everywhere.  One day, I just hung out a mall, people watching, noticing all sorts of interesting faces and dress and wanting to stop people and ask where they were from.

And while they do bend the rules for the foreigners, it still is a Middle-Eastern country.  Women did not have to cover their heads, and I did see many Western women by themselves, but there still were limits.

At an internet cafe, I tried to access a song on youtube that had the word “B#tch” in it.  Qatari Big Brother wasn’t having it.

These rules did not apply at my hotel, where the women wore bathing suits, Big Brother left me alone, and I could even get a beer.  Mostly, I just looked at the Persian Gulf or swam there.

Also, I went to the Souk Waqif (a souk is a market), which had many shops and restaurants from all over.

The Bridge on the River Kwai

The Academy Award winning film was indeed based on history.  In order to attack India, the Japanese needed an overland rail route to connect Thailand and the Andaman Sea.  Supplies could not move by water because the Allies controlled the ocean passage.  The jungle was too thick and the terrain too mountainous to transport heavy machinery, so it had to be built by hand.  This was mostly done by forced labor.

During the 20 months of its construction, approximately 100,000 people died due to exhaustion, malnutrition, or disease.  Most were Burmese or Malay civilians, but about 12,000 were prisoners of war, with Brits taking the greatest toll.  

There were 8 river crossings along the entire railway, but the famous bridge is at the Kwae Noi (Kwae means “river”), about 60 miles from Bangkok.  There were actually three bridges built next to each other–two were wooden and one was steel.  Unlike the movie, they were not blown up by a saboteur, but bombed by air several times (and re-built).

After the war, the Thai government purchased the railway, and segments of it remain in operation.  The bridges that were built by the POWs are gone (except for a small portion, at a museum), and the bridge that is in use was built by the Japanese as part of their post-war compensation.

Even though it is not the original bridge, I was glad I went there for the historical value.  There is a museum documenting the building of the railway, and the unbelievable atrocities that took place.  There are lots of pictures of the workers, who were walking skeletons.  The cemetery is very moving too.

From the bridge, I rode the railway for about an hour, seeing some great scenery along the way, but also thinking a lot about how it was built.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Being a Celebrity

As I mentioned before, after I started wearing my Yomiuri Giants hat around Tokyo, people started giving me second looks.  The one local I asked said it was simply because people only wore those hats at the games.  Later in the trip, I mentioned this to another traveller, who had an alternate theory.  She thought I was being mistaken for an actual player.  She made a good case–I’m built like a baseball player, there are American players in the league, and am much bigger and in better shape than most Japanese.  Still, I considered it unlikely.

Fast forward to Bangkok, where I stayed at a five star Hilton.  This was the pool.

Not only was it luxurious in general, but I had privileges at the rooftop lounge, which was limited to people staying on the top few floors.  Up there, the employees fawned over you, giving you whatever you wanted to eat or drink while you gazed at a 360 degree view of the city.  It was a fancy scene–people from all over, all with an air of wealth.  One person I met was Swiss and lived in the hotel in the winter.  Men in sharp dress casual, trophy wives dripping in jewelry.  In short, it seemed like a place you might even see a famous person.  A professional athlete, for example.

Unlike the rest of the crowd, I was sporting my black T-shirt and Giants hat.  Technically, this was a violation of the dress code, but nobody seemed to care.  As I walked from my table to the food, there was a bit of a stir off to my side.  Some people were very excited about something, talking and gesturing.  Still, I only noticed it because they were speaking Japanese, and even then, I didn’t realize on a conscious level.  Apparently, I had such a good time in Japan that when I heard Japanese, I got excited and looked without thinking about it.  It was a mom, a dad, and a boy of about 12, and they were all staring at me.  I continued on to the food.

As I loaded up on fresh berries, cheese and wine, I remembered the speculation about people thinking I was a player.  And as I walked back, I saw them glaring at me out of the corner of my eye.  I gave them a big ‘konnichiwa’ (hello) and they didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were looking at me.  They were very giddy, and apparently, they were fans of the rival Hanshin Tigers.  I told them that I was at the game when they played each other (which was true!) and headed on my way.

I guess it is possible that they were just thrilled to see another Japanese baseball fan, but that seems unlikely.  Not at that level of enthusiasm.  If I saw a Washington Nationals hat on the other side of the world, I wouldn’t even look twice.

My only regret is that I did not give them an autograph.

Random Food

I had some really delicious (and cheap) street food in Vietnam, particularly barbecue.Just a little grill

and an even smaller chair and table.

Let’s not forget the dessert.

This juice shop was a bit hidden,

but the owner was friendly

and the juice tasted as good as it looked.

In Thailand, I couldn’t find any familiar food, so I had to order blind.  At one place, most of the selection involved strange aquatic creatures or weird parts of land animals.  I ordered shrimp in tamarind sauce, only because it seemed like the safest option.  I was pleasantly surprised.  It was spicy and sweet and came bubbling hot in this bowl heated by charcoal.

 

Places I’ve Slept

My room in Japan was in the traditional Japanese style.  Sliding door, bamboo mat, mattress on the ground.  I loved the minimalism and slept great on that floor.

In Halong Bay, I was on a boat (no pictures), and the next night I slept on a train.

I found the train very conducive to sleep.  For one thing, I grew up falling asleep to the sound of a train off in the distance.  Combine the sound with the the rhythmic rocking, and I was lights out.  I wonder if there are rich, Howard Hughes types who spend their nights on trains just for the sleep.  That’s what I would do if I were rich and eccentric, as opposed to merely eccentric.

This was my place in Laos.  

Nice place.  Fortunately, I didn’t need the mosquito netting.  I could have done without the rooster next door, though.  The place had some interesting rules posted on the door (check out the two in the middle, the ones that involve ‘crambling’ and ‘prostate’).

In Bangkok (I will talk about Thailand soon), I stayed at a fancy Hilton that was right on the river.  There was a big festival going on, involving a big firework show launched by boat.  They were literally right outside my window.

 

 

Luang Prabang, Laos

I had a very relaxing five days here–it had the feel of a small island.  Slow, not crowded, with the smell of smoke and plumeria flowers in the air.  It has numerous Buddhist temples.

And where there are Buddhist temples, there are monks.

The monks only eat what people give them.  Every morning at 6 AM, they walk around with buckets, collecting their daily alms.  Many of the monks are very young, aged 12-16.  Most of these teenagers are only seasonal monks, doing it for just a few months.  Others come from very poor areas, and live at the temples until they finish their education.  Of course, there are some lifetime monks in there too.

I rode my bike and took a walk across the “Communist Bridge.”

I held on to the railing too–those planks were a bit rickety and the drop was about 200 feet.

I roused myself out of bed early to feed the monks, which left me sleepy for the rest of the morning.  I found a nice park overlooking the Mekong River, where I took a nap on a bench.  This is the last thing I saw before I fell asleep.

And these were my views of the river once I was vertical again.