First impressions of Morocco

26 January 2014 by Geoff Nimmo Posted in Feature Tagged Casablanca, donkey, Essaouira, extraordinaryplaces, kasbah, medina, Morocco, mosque, Moulay Bouselham, Rabat 4 Comments

We have never been to Morocco – we had lots of ideas of what it might be like, had read many stories, but we didn’t expect what we got…

We had been looking forward to breaking out the tent again after many weeks in the casita and house sitting and had imagined warm winter sun gently caressing Chubby Coleman, our big old tent left long under wraps.

This was the picture in our heads:

The sun sets and seagulls swarm over the Essaouira media

The sun sets and seagulls swarm over the Essaouira medina

What we got was torrential rain, lightening and thunder. We stayed two nights at our first camp, thinking it would blow over, then packed up between rain clouds and headed south – to the sun, right? Nope. More days of torrential rain, damp tent and to top it all – two punctured airbeds and a dead computer. Nothing exciting or exotic about any of that! Moulay Bousleham is next to a lagoon, which fills with migrating flamingoes in the spring, unfortunately the lagoon seemed more intent on filling the campsite during our flying visit!

Camp breakfast after it had dried out in Moulay Bouselham

Moulay Bouselham lagoon, with the Atlantic surf on the horizon

The gaint strawberry mosque at Moulay Bouselham

Admittedly, the inexplicable giant strawberry outside the mosque did make us laugh, but even the sheep that were herded past our tent for morning and evening feeds – which we also did not expect to see – seemed unimpressed by the relentless rain.

Sheep are herded through the campsite twice a day

Even the sheep thought the camp at Moulay Bouselham was too muddy

Eventually we managed to catch a break in the rain, packed a soggy Chubby into the car and headed south again.

By the time we got to Rabat, the capital of Morocco, the rain was becoming just a memory and the ancient stones of the Rabat kasbah and necropolis glowed in the sunshine. The blue and white walls and doors of the kasbah are beautiful and worth a visit to the city for that alone.

White, blue and a touch of red, Rabat kasbah

Tiles and pots in Rabat kasbah

The multi-coloured Rabat medina

The kasbah at Rabat

Painted doorway, Rabat kasbah

Cats have it easy in the Rabat kasbah

Hitching a ride

Entrance to a mosque in Rabat kasbah – the sign says Mulims only

Hand made door decor in Rabat kasbah

Silver and blue doorway, Rabat kasbah

Rabat kasbah from across the river

Studded door in Rabat kasbah

The ancient necropolis – once a Roman settlement – on the edge of the city is a fascinating place and home to countless clacking storks, but Geoff got a stalk of a different kind – a double dose!

The necropolis at Rabat, complete with storks nest

The remains of beautiful mosiacs can still be seen at the Rabat necropolis

Stalking Geoff – how not to get hired as a guide

Stalking Geoff – it’s okay if you are a cat

Stalking Geoff – The necropolis cat wins!

Green door at the necropolis

The Hassan Tower in the centre of the city is also a sight to see, set as it is amongst more ancient Roman ruins and guarded by elegant horsemen.

The Hassan Tower among the Roman coloumns in Rabat

The Hassan Tower among the Roman columns in Rabat

Guarding Hassan Tower, Rabat

From Rabat, again we have pushed south, toward Casablanca. Is there any other city that so immediately evokes thoughts of Hollywood glamour and excitement? We turned to fellow travellers on the internet for some insider wisdom on the best places to visit. “Do Not Go To Casablanca” was the overwhelming message from almost every review we read. The only thing worth visiting is the Hassan II mosque. Built only a couple of decades ago, in just six years, to honour the dying King, it is one of the largest mosques in the world. Twenty-five thousand devotees can be housed inside and a further 75,000 outside.

The Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca in the pouring rain

$Just a fraction of the massive Hassan II mosque, Casablanca$

Just a fraction of the massive Hassan II mosque, Casablanca

Massive windows in the distance at the Hassan II mosque, Casablanca

Looking across the width of the Hassan II Mosque, Casablanca, with the women’s balcony above

Geoff at the Hassan II Mosque, Casablanca. King Hassan decreed non-Muslims should be allowed inside

Ceiling decoration and crystal chandeliers in the Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca

Titanium doors on the Hassan II Mosque, Casablanca

Wooden roof and Venetian crystal chandelier at the Hassan II mosque, Casablanca

The columns are made partly of eggshells to absorb the damp from the hamman below the Hassan II mosque, Casablanca

The yet-to-be used public baths below Hassan II mosque, Casablanca

It is perhaps true that the only thing worth seeing in Casablanca is the Hassan II mosque, if you are a tourist. Its sheer scale is very impressive, but we have seen more beauty in other buildings. Casablanca itself it simply a very large city – not geared for tourism or visuals feasts. Suckered by Hollywood again!

So onward and further south we have pressed, driving for most of the afternoon past donkey carts, sheep and cattle herders, shepherds, farmers and all points in between.

Hard to decide which one looks more composed

Brightly coloured baskets for sale along the road

A splash of colour in the mud

A roadside chat

Lady donkey driver

Leading the way, even though he’s being ignored!

Morocco is marred by endless garbage

Ploughing the unforgiving landscape

Shepherdess

Striding out with purpose (and bucket)

Tangine top hat

The long day’s journey

The look in his eye says it all… the horse’s eye, that it is!

The sheep herder

Three ladies by the roadside

Two children and a wheelbarrow

Woman in red buggy

A well-earned rest

We landed in Essaouira – a fishing town beloved by surfers in the summer season and a rather chilled and easy place out of season. Those surf-making winds can be rough this time of year though and we had to hang on to Chubby the tent as it was buffeted every which way as we put it up. A tour around town found a wonderful local metal fabricator who, after we had stumbled through our basic French and waved our one remaining tent peg in the air, stopped what he was doing to bend and bang out twelve new heavy-duty pegs on the spot. Chubby is now tight as a drum.

It was no problem for him to stop what he was doing and cut us 12 new tent pegs to battle the Esaouira winds

Health and safety be damned – this is how we roll in Morocco!

Made on the spot, with a cheery smile and a 7 euro bill for 12 new pegs

Our brand new, hand-made tent pegs

With Chubby pegged down we were free to explore the sights, smells and colour of the Essaouira medina and port – what a feast for the senses!

Women in Essaouira port

The olive seller in Essaouira medina

The carpet seller in Essaouira medina

The boat and the battlements of Essaouira

The blue boats in Essaouira harbour

Souvenirs for sale at the Essaouira medina

Slippers for sale, Essaouira medina

Pots of dye in Essaouira medina

Night time at the Essaouira medina

Boat builders of Essaouira

Camels on the beach at Essaouira

Lamps and drapes in the Essaouira medina

We are beginning to settle into Moroccan life – and even Moroccan driving!

You name it, they’ll drive it

Overtaking Moroccan style – four at a time

Hay bale hold-up

We hope to spend some weeks in this new country – exploring the deserts and mountains, coasts and oases – we hope you will come along for the ride.

$Just a fraction of the massive Hassan II mosque, Casablanca$

The ocean at the end of the lane

21 December 2013 by Sara Holden Posted in Feature Tagged Cabo St Vincent, end of the world, extraordinaryplaces, Portugal, Sagres

At one time it was thought to be where the known-world ended, at another it was the nerve-centre for maritime developments that later made discovering the New World possible.

Geoff and Dougal at the end of the world

Cabot St Vincent today is a windswept mixture of old and new. Jutting out into the ocean one cliff holds up a still-working lighthouse, warning sailors not of the end of the world, but at least of the monster cliffs at the very westerly edge of Portugal.

The lighthouse at Cabo St Vincent, the most southwesterly point in Europe

A powerful warning to sailors

Guarding one of the world’s busiest shipping lanes, it is one of the most powerful lighthouses in Europe; its two 1,000W lamps can be seen up to 60 kilometres away. While it offers sound warning to seafarers, it has no impact on the local fishermen who literally risk their lives to fish off the pounded cliffs. Three have died in the last year alone.

Tiny dots of fishermen dice with death on the cliff tops

No safety harness, not even a warm coat!

A stern warning goes unheeded

And it is a mecca for surfers.

Riding the waves in the 21st century – what would Henry have thought?

The other side of an often sea-misted bay is the rather tired remains of what is claimed to be Henry the Navigator’s mission control – his austere ocean-gazing fortress at Sagres – in which it is claimed that monumental changes to maritime exploration were developed.

Henry the Navigator's forteleza at Sagres

Henry the Navigator’s fortaleza at Sagres

Portuguese Prince Henry “the Navigator” was quite a guy. Born in 1394, his life was devoted to seafaring, navigating, plotting and colonising. He designed revolutionary new styles of ships – caravels – that were lighter, faster and better equipped to trade further afield than just around the Mediterranean, as the heavy ships of his day did. Fully embracing the age he sponsored mapmakers and navigators; and under his direction, Portugal laid claim to many new places including the Azores and Madeira and named the Sargasso Sea. Henry was the catalyst that made Portugal the first global and Europe’s longest running empire – from the taking of Ceuta in 1415, to the returning of Macau in 1999.

The mythology of the fortaleza at Sagres is that Henry created a navigation school that drew in the brightest and best; in order to send them back out on a mission to conquer the known world. The centre-piece of the ruins is the massive “compass rose”- a 50 metre diameter structure only discovered in 1919 and claimed by some to be a navigation tool of the school, and by others to be a later-built sundial.

Ancient and modern - the compass rose and explanation at the forteleza, Sagres

Ancient and modern – the compass rose and explanation at the fortaleza, Sagres

The compass rose at Sagres Fortaleza

Modern historians point to the lack of documented evidence of what would have been such an esteemed academy to cast doubt on its veracity.

All that really remains of Henry’s days in Sagres – the humble chapel looking out to sea

Others claim that, years later, when English captain Sir Francis Drake sacked Sagres, en route to wiping out the Spanish Armada, he destroyed all the documents and maps stored at the fortaleza.

But never mind the maritime mythology. But there is no question that Henry contributed massively to the advancement of sailing, shipbuilding, mapmaking, and discovery. His obsession with exploration and of course colonization, led to improvements in vessels and navigation that lay the foundation for the famed and feted explores such as Columbus, de Gama, Magellan, Holden and Nimmo.

Nimmo the Navigator

Okay, jokes aside, these days the site maybe a slightly desolate place, but Henry’s own wanderlust still inspires us all.

Dreaming of distant shores

Just beyond the lighthouse – the ocean at the end of the lane

A corking good tale!

30 November 2013 by Sara Holden Posted in Feature Tagged Capuchos, cork, Cork Convent, extraordinaryplaces, Portugal

This humble little lump of woody fibre that takes decades to create and more often than not, is then just tossed in the bin overnight, is worth a second glance.

The majority of the world’s cork production is in southern Portugal, so we got the chance to do just that.

At first sight it looks like any other bark

When you touch the bark it even feels like cork on the outside

It generates one of the most diverse ecologies in Europe, gives employment to 60,000 people, stops up 60% of wine bottles, is fire retardant, impermeable and it floats – not much can compare to cork for its diverse range of uses. It takes about 25 years for the cork oak to be ready for its first harvest. The bark is then carefully peeled off with a special axe, leaving a deep red trunk behind, which eventually dulls to brown over the years.

The harvest marks are clear

Up close to the harvest

The first harvest is thought to be of lesser quality and is called “male” cork. The good quality material comes after the second or third harvest and is rather evocatively known at “gentle” cork. A harvested tree is left to rest for ten years between each peeling and lives for around 200 years.

It will be many more years before the next harvest

After the harvest

It’s a two billion dollar industry that only ever seems to be seen growing on small acreages, on the sides of the road, in small yards and family farms.

Looks familiar

Cork production has been hit by the use of screw tops in the wine industry, but the versatile cladding is determined to keep afloat. Corks’ green credentials have helped its PR push – the low carbon footprint and sustainable harvests, as well as the natural habitat it nurtures – who could possibly prefer metal! Any Australian couldn’t help but feel at home in the cork forests of Southern Portugal – as they grow alongside huge Aussie gum trees, giving off a great eucalypt scent as you pass through.

Geoff and Dougal amongst the cork trees

Cork and Australian eucalypt grow side by side in the hills

Corks aren’t just for bottling – although that is this the primary usage – it has been used in musical instruments, shuttlecocks, heat shields, laser printers, transmission systems, a boat (honestly – 165,321 wine corks=one boat ), fishing floats, and even fashion.

Even cork boots – of course!

Its impermeable and thermal properties make it useful in the house and building trade, as waterproof flooring, table mats, mixed with concrete to give better insulation or even just raw.

The Convent of the Capuchos, or Cork Convent in the Sintra hills above Cascais, was built in 1560 for Franciscan monks, and uses the bark extensively as cladding, chairs, doors and window linings.

Even the cork benches brought a little relief form the cold

The monks and nature were always together

The convent was intended to keep faith with the notion of simplicity and being at one with the natural surroundings.

The cork serving hatch from the kitchen!

The kitchen – you guessed it – lined with cork

If you want to see what austerity measures looked like in the 16^th century, then have a prowl around Capuchos.

Meals were served at the stone table in the Cork Convent

Bowing through low doorways – a sign of piety and a necessity

The melding of rocks, trees and earth into the fabric of the buildings doesn’t get much closer to nature.

The convent and the cork tree

The trees are slowly reclaiming the Cork Convent

So, next time you pop a cork, we hope you have a new-found admiration for the stuff that can float boats, warm houses, dress you and keep your food and drink fresh – we’ll raise a glass to that!

Trailer Park Triumph

10 September 2013 by Sara Holden Posted in Feature Tagged Airstream, extraordinaryplaces, France, Pyrenees, Retro 2 Comments

Gleaming aluminum curves, disco balls, a blue Chevrolet Biscayne, a London bus, pink flamingoes, and a former clown – well, we are certainly going to fit right in here! “Here” is The Belrepayre Airstream and Retro Trailer Park – the only Airstream retro campsite in Europe and what a joy it is!

Airstreams as far as you can see

Nestled down a one-car-wide unpaved road high in the hills in the Aude region of France, about 60 kms from Carcassonne just getting there is a lovely experience to start with. A gorgeous drive through rolling, lush countryside, medieval villages and endless sunflower fields finally takes you up on to the hillside, where the park is perched, surrounded by fields, a small wood and a glorious view across the valleys and right back to the Pyrenees.

The Pyrenees in the background

Al Fresco dining

Views over the valley right from your porch

There are fifteen Airstreams, each different models, each imported from America and lovingly restored, before rediscovering their retro roots on the hill. Each is decorated in keeping with its heritage. Ours was a 1953 Airstream Silver Streak – in its own private spot, surrounded by bamboo (real – not 1950s wallpaper), fronted with a splendid Astro-turf lawn, purple sun loungers and a view over the valley.

Our Airstream garden by day

Mail box included

Our Airstream garden by night – groovy!

Inside, a metallic green interior offset the wooden floors, steel tubular heater, a cherry red enamel cooker, and our very comfortable crochet-covered bed.

daytime in the Silver Streak

Geoff sorting the sounds on the wireless

Our lovely big crochet-covered bed

An all-American classic of design, that became, and still is a cultural icon, the different Airstreams at Belrepayre bask in glorious sunshine, history and more than a little eccentricity.

Pink Flamingoes

It’s a serious business – really!

All the way from the good ol’ USofA

The park is run by Perry – a Englishman who for many years was a circus clown and clearly still likes a good laugh – and his French wife Coline – who shares his love of performing, humour and Airstreams. There is a large, lovely old manor house on the site that would be the pride and envy of many, but the couple prefers to live in their Airstream. Their son lives in an old London bus.

Perry on the decks

Coline in the kitchen

Double decker home

The Office

The general store

Of an evening, campers move down to the enormously impressive Apollo Lounge – a huge Airstream, rescued from a life more ordinary as a diner car underneath the Eiffel Tower, now appropriately housed under a “Big Top” tent.

Glamour nights

Orange and purple retro seating clamours for attention alongside the lava lamps, disco balls, purple carpet and bar stools.

The kitchen next to the Big Top and Apollo Lounge

Retro seating

While Perry spins some groovy sounds on the turntable, Coline conjures up delicious organic food in the kitchen Airstream (1946 model). People arriving in vintage cars get a discount and guests are encouraged to dress retro, but we left our hot pants and bell bottoms in Amsterdam, so lucked out there. The park is home to other vintage vehicles in various states of “vintageness”. The blue Chevrolet Biscayne had seen many better days, but it still took Geoff right back to his earliest camping days when Mum, Dad, four kids and the dog would pile into their maroon and white Biscayne (- with maroon carpet so plush wildebeest could have been hiding in it – so he says) and drive across the Nullabor desert.

You can get a double bed mattress in the boot

When I was a kid we went on holiday in this

Never too old to join the fun

Perry and Coline told us that they never really intended to make the park a big thing. They thought it would be fine to just have some visitors every now and then, mainly finding it by word of mouth. Even the trailers themselves are often tucked away almost out of sight in leafy nooks around the camp.

In their own little hideaways

If you go down to the woods..

But guys, the gig is up! Cool Camping and Trip Advisor rave about the place and rightly so. Coline told us they are also branching out into textiles and generously gave us a wonderful Airstream cushion for the car.

Coline’s cushion settles down with Charlie

We had a lovely couple of days at the Airstream park – if you can – go there, and don’t forget your bell bottoms.

Aspirational towing!

Chateaux Fantastiques

29 August 2013 by Sara Holden Posted in Feature Tagged 2CV, castle, Cathars, CharlieCharleston, Chateaux Fantastiques, extraordinaryplaces, Eyoux, France, Peyrepertuse, Pyrenees, Queribus 2 Comments

Perched higher than the swallows flit, warnings abound that visiting the castles on the cliff tops in strong winds is very dangerous and during storms is strictly forbidden.

They also say the steps are slippery; the climb is steep. But who cares about all that, when thousands of years of history await us at the top.

Higher than the swallows fly, climbing up to Peyrepertuse

Queribus, perched on the hill

Even the names of the chateaux of Queribus and Peyrepertuse sound magical and the views are breathtaking.

Neighbours in the mists

Hewn from the rocky outcrops as defensive positions, it is incredible to realise that the first mention of the castle at Queribus is in 1020. For us modern crusaders, it was a steep, panting, sweaty 250 metre walk from the car park – minus armour and sword! We had already been grateful that Charlie Charleston had managed the winding two kilometre drive on a 17% gradient! Imagine being one of those sorry souls who had to build this granite eagles nest!

Charlie Charleston on the 17% ascent

At 728 metres high, Queribus was the guardian of the mountain pass of Grau de Maury and sits, seemingly precariously, on a ridge overlooking vast swathes of Corbieres, Fenouilledes and the Roussillon Plains.

Along the spine of the mountain

Defending the rock

Keeping a look out

As with most castles, it’s history is chequered, starting in the hands of the Count of Besalu, who served the Count of Barcelona, who became the King of Aragon – part of modern day Spain. The castle gave shelter to the religiously persecuted Cathars and is often cited as the last Cathar stronghold before falling to the French in 1255, during the Albigensian Crusade. The history of the Cathars is fascinating and not widely known outside this region. It’s w orth a read to find out about their history and ideology on equality, peace, vegetarianism. Easy to see why they posed such a threat to society and could justifiably be hunted down and massacred by order of the Catholic pope.

Meanwhile, back up the mountain, the French put their new prize to good use, making Queribus one of the “Five Sons of Carcassonne” a group of castles central to the French defensive system against the Spanish.

Like Queribus, its near neighbour Peyrepertuse was one of the Five Sons of Carcassonne. Eleven kilometres as the crow flies (if he would fly that high) and a couple of valleys over, Peyrepertuse stands higher, at 800 metres, and is an even larger complex, linked by a huge stone staircase. The stairs were commissioned by the French king Louis IX and were not made from pre-quarried stones, but rather chiselled out of the very rocks of the limestone ridge the castle clings to. Despite never once lifting a hammer to help, St Louis got the staircase named in his honour.

Peyrepertuse has all the proper castle trimmings of towers, dungeons, long drops, chapels, spectacular views for spotting potential marauding hordes and of course, a bloody history.

View from the valley floor

The site has been occupied since Roman times, from the start of the first century BC. Since the first official mentions of the Castle in 1070, ownership has ping-ponged between the kings and countries of Spain and France, before finally becoming fully French-owned in 1240, when it took on its prime defensive duties with its four Carcassonne castle siblings.

As far as the eye can see

Clinging to the cliff

Getting to Peyrepertuse is even harder than Queribus. Once again Charlie championed us to the car park, but from there it was more like a scramble through a Hobbit woodland path for parts of the climb and then a gut-busting hike up countless stone-shod, uneven steps and rock piles to the entrance, balanced on the top of the almost dragon-like spine of the ridge, that looks barely wide enough to support it.

Hobbit highway to the castle

Climbing up

Still more steps to go

A vast complex on an almost impossible ridge

While the history of both of the castles is ancient, restoration work was only began in the 1950s and was pretty limited in its scope. Serious restoration of Queribus only started in 1998. Even post-restoration the sites would probably not pass a health & safety inspection in the UK or Australia, with their rubble-strewn climbs and hand-rail free steps. But to climb that ancient route, to clamber over the warm stones and get just a hint of life in a millennia gone by was worth all the effort.

Living on the edge

Planning the next assault

Much thanks is due to one passionate and prolific man for making these castles available to the public. Henri-Paul Eydoux, historian, resistance fighter, diplomat and author, translated his passion for the ancient history of France into a series of books called “Chateaux Fantastiques” in 1969 and a campaign to have them restored and opened to the public.

“Chateaux Fantastique”, by Henri-Paul Eyoux

Fittingly, he is buried in a cemetery at the foot of the Peyrepertuse castle hills.

Henri-Paul Eydoux memorial

This story and images are for you Mr. Eydoux, with our thanks.

Our home is our castle!

17 August 2013 by Sara Holden Posted in Feature Tagged castle, CharlieCharleston, donkey, El Castell, extraordinaryplaces, France, French Revolution, Joch, Pyrenees 1 Comment

“Just keep driving all the way up through the village and it’s the castle at the top”. The castle?? I thought you said we were staying at your mum’s house!

But sure enough, we’re safe and sound in a 12th century fortification as I type….

The entrance archway to El Castell

Romans, barons and revolutionaries have come before us – unlike them, we promised to clean up after ourselves!

Our route from Spain was peppered with rain showers and the Pryenees looked more and more brooding as we navigated the ever-shrinking roads.

The brooding Pryenees

More narrow navigation for Geoff and Charlie Charleston

Not much sun in the flowers

When we finally arrived in Joch, the steep hill was too much for Charlie Charleston and we got stuck half way up. We had to drop back down to the bottom road and come in from a different approach – good job we weren’t trying to invade! If we were, we could have used Alex’s handy map of the area.

Joch invasion map

But finally we arrived! Peering down over the tiny village of Joch (population 146) El Castell has had a mixed and sometimes turbulent history.

Peering down from on high

Battle scars on the inside

Built in the 12^th century on the site of a Roman fortress, it became the seat of a succession of barons until the last was un-seated and probably beheaded during the French Revolution. The locals sacked the castle and left it to fall into ruins. More than two hundred years later at the turn of this century, our neighbour Bruno bought up the ruins and began to renovate it, selling off sections to families including Alex’s.

Painted tile highlighting the hills beyond

Sun-drenched in Mediterranean hues

While parts are still a work in progress, El Castell has generated an easy and friendly community feeling and has been a wonderful base from which to explore the lovely Pyrenees Orientales. Bruno even has a donkey he let us pet!

Bruno’s donkey and friend

Once more – big thanks to Alex and his family for their generosity. We’ll be posting some stories from our visits in the coming days, but for now – share our enjoyment of Joch with some additional photographs.