ultra gaelic

(I’ve embedded this photo by Marc here.)

Now that I’ve finally finished droning on about my trip and sharing all my photos (and everyone else’s!) with you, you probably want to know what my general impressions of Morocco are.

I liked it as a whole, though I will admit that Marrakech left me a bit disillusioned realizing that there were so many people with so many ways to make money off of tourists. I was impressed with the infrastructure of the country—on par with Queretaro and similarly European in feel—yet disappointed that Marrakech, crawling with tourists, couldn’t have put up a few more street signs. We were all disappointed that we had practically no opportunities to interact with Berber women during our time outside of the major cities. As one woman in my group put it, “You feel like you’re only getting half of the story.”

We met in the morning for a walking tour of Marrakech led not by Abdou but by a local. (More on this below.) Our tourguide took us to Koutoubia Mosque (but not inside) and then the Bahia Palace, whose architecture is well-preserved but appreciation of which was somewhat distracted by installations of contemporary art (like this dumpster covered with mirrors). Next we went to a place full of second-hand everything called something like “Ali Baba’s Bazaar”.
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Be sure to click words that aren’t in black to see more photos!

Those who slept outside said they slept well.

Throughout the past few days, we kept asking Abdou if we would ever reach a part of the desert where there was only sand and no greenery. He said we would. This was the day. The past two days had been in a valley, but now we entered a more open area, where the wind was stronger. My hat kept blowing off (luckily I had a neck string!), so I switched to using a towel to cover my head.
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Readers asked for more beards and camels. I can only provide one new beard shot, but here’s one camel and another. Plus me looking uncomfortable from camel-riding. (I didn’t just look the part!)

In the morning, Peter said he slept well but got wet due to condensation. (Imagine … moisture in the desert!) He said next time he would change the order of his layers (put the plasticky material underneath) to attract less condensation.

We started off the day with a traditional Moroccan breakfast of muesli, cheese wedges, condensed milk, bread, jam, instant coffee, and Lipton tea. (Well, breakfast was likely our least traditional meal of the day. Oh, and spaghetti with marinara sauce might not be very traditional either.) Usually there was a special addition to breakfast such as pancakes or pancake-shaped omelets.
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A little bit of extra rain and ice doesn’t stop the Irish from going forward as if nothing happened. (Warning: Some photos and videos possibly staged.)

I’ll interrupt my desert adventure story briefly by updating you on life in wintry Dublin.

The weather has been colder than usual since I arrived, much like the whole northern hemisphere. (December was the coldest month in 28 years, and the cold spell was the longest in 40.) This, of course, hastened my departure from the place I stayed in for three days. But, you see, the cold weather has brought all sorts of additional problems to Ireland, including impassable roads and water shortages. How could Ireland possibly be short of water when we’ve had lots of rain and snow? I’ll tell you.

Since a lot of people leave their homes during the holidays (to visit family or to go to the Canary Islands or something), insurance companies urged people to leave their taps trickling to keep pipes from freezing (since nothing around here is built to handle temperatures below freezing). Lots of people did so, meaning that by January the reservoirs were running dangerously low in Dublin and some other parts of the country. The government started warning people they might need to ration, so usage shot up because everyone panicked. Parts of the city found themselves without water, so the city brought in tanker trucks where people could go fill up jugs. Now water pressure is quite low nearly everywhere (especially if you live on an upper floor of a building), so the city is intentionally lowering water pressure in various parts of the city at various times of the day in order to save water. If you like somewhere with radiators (as I do), this means you also lose heating. Luckily we have an electric shower, a gas-powered fireplace, and electric radiator on loan from Brian’s sister. And just tonight I’ve secured an electric blanket to keep till May!

Of course, many pipes did freeze anyway, especially in schools that were closed for the holidays. Most schools were supposed to reopen on January 7, but at that point we were in the thick of the freeze, so the minister for eduction announced that schools wouldn’t open till January 14. Then we had an unexpected thaw on January 9-10, so he was put under pressure to reverse his decision. He eventually did, telling them to reopen on January 12 … unless they couldn’t (because of burst pipes), in which case they shouldn’t.

Sporadic flooding continues across the country, leading to occasional suspension of coach (long-distance bus) and train service and occasionally closing of roads.

Most towns nearly ran out of road salt, but I hear more shipments have arrived. But even when supplies exist, if the snow falls during the day, they won’t salt the roads (or “grit the roads”, as they say here, though “grit” actually refers to sand mixtures) in Dublin because the “gritters” (the trucks that spread salt or grit) “get caught in congested areas and people leave their offices early.” Really? So instead people pack down the snow, making it more difficult to remove later, and they get into fender-benders because the roads haven’t been treated. I believe the word for this in Ireland and the UK is “brilliant”. In fact, the roads get so treacherous that the city bus system has to suspend bus service one afternoon, stranding commuters in the center of the city. Positively brilliant.

In any case, I’ll do my part to conserve water by growing a beard again for a few days.

Now let’s see, where did we leave off? Ah, yes, I arrived at Heathrow to fly to Morocco.

We were tall told to check in three hours early (just to be safe). I eyed the other people in line at Royal Air Maroc suspiciously, wondering who all was on my trip. I noticed there were not as many Moroccans as I expected. Mostly tourists. Hmm.
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Good news: I have secured my colleague’s LL Bean “Base Camp Classic” sleeping bag (rated for 20 °F and −7 °C), which got me through cold desert nights in Morocco, until I leave Ireland or he needs it back, whichever comes first. Even if he needs it, I bet I could get it back. This, combined with my “camping and leisure roll mat” (acquired in a Dublin camping store) and my travel pillow (also acquired there) should be sufficient comfort for me to survive a few nights on the floor of my apartment when you come to visit. I only have a single bed, so only one guest at a time.

I am frantically preparing for three presentations at the end of the week in Cork, plus planning an event in April and writing some conference paper proposals. However, I plan to write about my experiences in Morocco on the train to Cork (or on the way back) and provide links to lots of photos. It’s been a bit difficult for me to acquire photos since I’m not on Facebook, but luckily a few people have been willing to accommodate my backwards ways.

It looks like someone from Dublin visited Ann Arbor and was inspired by a certain Ann Arbor institution. I draw particular attention to the model, paint job, and typography on the delivery van.

I give them credit for managing to locate themselves on Reuben Street. If only Baggot Street were actually “Baguette Street”…