London Calling

Travelogue Index

Travelogue

Asia
Japan: DisneySea, Kyoto, Nara, Osaka,Tokyo,  Uji 
Korea: Seoul
Malaysia: Johor Bahru, 
Taiwan: Hualian, Jiufen, Taipei
Thailand: Bangkok


Europe
Austria: Salzburg, Vienna

Czech: Prague

France: Carcassonne, Dieppe, Lourdes, Nice, Paris, Rouen, Versailles

Germany: Berlin, Dresden, Frankfurt, Munich 

Italy: Florence, Greaves, Rome, Venice
Morocco: Asilah, Casablanca, Chefchaouen, Fez, Marrakesh, Meknes, Sahara Desert, Tangier

Portugal: Lisbon, Porto

Spain: Barcelona, Madrid

Switzerland: Bern, Grindelward, Interlaken, Jungfrau, Kleine Scweiss, Luzern, Zurich, 

UK: London

Kindness

Revelations from a Tuesday morning's work:

1. Rubber suction cup. It is the pointy rubber thinggy under your laptop's keyboard's key.

2. It serves a grand purpose-enable you to make contact with the electric circuit board beneath your keypad without short circuiting it.

3. The smarter thing to do when your keyboard malfunction while it is still under warranty is not to try and repair by yourself. Being the smart alec, I had to pry out the faulty key AND pluck out the rubber suction cup to tap on the electric circuit board circuit. This works for my backspace button but not my escape key. Now, I am left with the rubber suction cups and keys and a void warranty (for the keyboard component).

4. Acer must earn an incredibly high profit margin from selling keyboards. It costs S$90 for that piece of  plastic.

In other news, shuttle bus drivers at the International Business Park are incredibly kind. One pointed out that I got on the wrong bus and the other was quite apologetic that I had to pay for the ride (he figured that I made a wasted trip to fix my keyboard here hahahah).

Chefchaouen & Asilah

When I first saw photos of Chefchaouen in travel guidebooks, I knew I had to come here. The entire town is painted in lovely hues of blue and reminded me much of Greece minus throngs of tourists. 

W and I took the ONCF train from Marrakesh to Tangier and then arranged for a local guide to pick us up from Tangier train station to Chefchaouen as we were on a tight schedule. 1.5 days should be sufficient to cover this charming town. 

The Red City That is Marrakesh

W and I spent 3 days in Marrakesh. 1.5 days should be more than sufficient if you have instinctive navigation skills. If i were to do a pie chart, 40% of our time will shown as "wandering around like a headless chicken". This is despite us asking for directions and with the help of google maps, amazing.

This really frustrated me but not W. I detest walking around aimlessly unless that is my original objective (i.e shopping). W tried to persuade me to deviate from the checklist and include "walk around and soak up the local atmosphere"-his synonym for being lost. Nice try. Might work if I wasn't one of those annoying bitches who plans every step of the itinerary right down to taking line X of the train service, alighting Y stops after and then heading off to the streets  via exit Z. I think we make a good pair-W with his OCD standards of hygiene and paranoid me with my Plan Bs.

Okay, back to Marrakesh. The thing I like most about this city is how it is so real and bursting with life-the noise, the sweat and the grime. Also, it is refreshing to witness how locals were so fervent about their religion. 5 times a day, prayer bells chime and streets become empty as locals rush to the mosque. 

a-MAZE-ing city

Todra Gorges and Gladiators

After a good breakfast, it was time to hit the roads again. We headed towards the Todra Gorges to see the towering rock walls and the glacier stream. 

We passed by a couple of towns looking like this. Loving the palm trees and earthy blocks.

Under the Sahara skies

“I have always loved the desert. One sits down on a desert sand dune, sees nothing, hears nothing. Yet through the silence something throbs, and gleams...” 

-Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince

There are places and there are places.  It is easy to understand why prophets retreat to the Desert to search for God and spend time with Him. In the desert, how can man not be humbled, dwarfed by the blanketing golden sand during the baking heat of day, shrouded by the infinite stars in the cooling chill of night.  

I rode across the kingdom of sand, chasing after the footprints of sheikhs and veiled beauties, searching the skies for signs of flying carpets and poking around sand dunes for a rusty genie-inhabited lamp. Although I am now back home, a small piece of my heart will always be with the Sahara. I will be back!