A tasty snack with Captain Jack

There are few things that I will refuse to eat. In fact, I can only recall two things of which I have turned down the opportunity to sample:

bull penis (Córdoba, Spain)

(with french fries, naturally)


and sheep head (Marrakech, Morocco).


Not only do I try just about anything, but I like (or at least, do not dislike) most things, too. It’s a matter of pride for me. I love spinach, mushrooms, and I even like brussels sprouts. Not only that, but I might even admit to liking morcilla, as long as we don’t mention what it actually is.

But there are a few things I would rather not eat. I don’t like sweet & sour sauce, pickles, relish, or olives. Never have.

Naturally, as the whole matter is an issue of pride, I do my best to try these things from time to time. However, the frequency with which I try these things is directly proportional to the frequency with which I find them on my plate. Makes sense, right? If they’re there, I figure I might as well give them a shot and see if anything has changed. Consequently, I have eaten a lot of olives without actually liking them. Growing up, I was the only one who didn’t like black olives. Every time we ordered pizza, there were olives. I picked them off. At Thanksgiving, I was the only kid not getting olives from the hors d’oeuvres table, then sticking them on the end of my fingers so I could have cool olive fingers.

Then I went to Spain. Spaniards love olives. I think it may be illegal for them to dislike olives. A Spaniard not liking olives would be tantamount to a Brit not liking tea (though I have actually met one such Brit - at least, she claimed she was English - she was probably lying).

In the US, I had somehow gathered the impression that a black olive was sort of a precursor to the green olive. In other words, if you like black olives, you should try green olives - you might like them, too. But if you don’t even like black olives, you won’t like green olives - there’s no point in even trying them.

But I tried them anyway.
Many times.
I always tried them if they were on my plate, and I always disliked them.
Until one day...

I was having lunch with M2 in Granada. We were getting the Menú del Día at a restaurant that was located right next to a big plaza. I can still see it in my mind’s eye. I ate a green olive. And I liked it. It was pretty amazing. I tried to communicate the magic of the moment to Matt, but I don’t think he quite understood. Anyway, I didn’t just start liking olives from then on. There may have been a few in the following years that I liked, but I didn’t just start eating any old olive. It wasn’t long after that apperception that I returned to the US. So my encounters with olives were drastically reduced in number and I all but forgot that magical moment in Granada. Until one day…

A couple of months ago, my boss brought home some jalapeño stuffed olives.

I tried one.

I liked it.

I ate more.

I started picking them up regularly at the grocery store and my boss and I have both been enjoying them.

Now I am in the habit of eating Melba Snacks with Laughing Cow spreadable cheese and sliced jalapeño stuffed olives. Yum.

A couple of weeks ago, the grocery store was out of the jalapeño stuffed olives. So that evening, I made my little snack with regular olives, and I still really liked it! That’s how I know I’ve truly turned a corner here.

But I still don’t like black olives.

It's good to be home

Well, maybe I should say it's good to be at my sister's home. While I was in Spain last year, my parent's cleverly seized the opportunity to sell our family home, so I don't actually have a home right now. Much to my relief, my sister has taken me in. I don't really know how long she'll put up with me before I'm back on the streets, but for now I'll just enjoy having a bed to sleep in and not think about the inevitable.

My plane flew in to Seattle night before last at about midnight. So by the time I got to my sister's place, it had been 25 1/2 hours since I left my brother's place in Spain. That may seem like a long time to be traveling, but my bags had it even worse. They just got in about half an hour ago.

I love traveling. There's nothing like that thrill of excitement that you get when you first enter a new country. It's strange, but I forget about that rush until I'm actually entering the country. Then it just kind of hits me. This past month was the first time I had ever been to Morocco or Ireland, and in Morocco I had the added thrill of being in a new continent. I think I'm addicted to travel. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to go anywhere right now. I'm perfectly content to be back in C-town relaxing and getting some rest (oddly enough, though, I've only slept a total of about 10 hours in the last two nights- go figure). However, I know that in a couple of months, all I'll be thinking about is that next hit..er..trip. While I was coming home, I had a layover at JFK in New York. At the airport I popped into a Starbucks to get my usual Iced Caramel Machiatto and a pamphlet caught my eye. It was about some contest that Starbucks was running where the winners get a free trip to the country of their choosing which has a Starbucks in it. The brochure was old; the contest ended a few years ago. I looked over the list of countries, though, and I started getting excited thinking of all of the places on the list that I wanted to visit. I definitely have an addiction. I'm planning on going to England over spring break, but that's not for another 8 months or so. I could be a wreck by then. I'm hoping to get a car in the next few weeks, though. If I get it off of Ebay, it will probably involve flying somewhere and driving it home. Maybe that will help stave off the cravings. Oh well, for now maybe I'll just go unpack my bags. After wearing the same clothes for the last month and a half, I'm pretty excited to rediscover my clothing.

Roughing it in Brit-land

It's my last night in London; tomorrow I bid farewell to good ol' Blighty. I have had one tough week- lying on the couch, watching TV, eating lots of good food (yes, folks, there is good food in England). Seriously, though, it was a much-needed break. On the way back from Morocco, I started getting sick. Being Sick + 8-Hour Bus = No Fun. I'm sure it was a result of a month of travelling- my body was just rebelling. I only felt really ill for the first day or two, now I just have a cold. At any rate, it was high time I took a break, and besides being a Whole Lot of Fun, I think I will enjoy Dublin now a lot more than I would have otherwise.

I had hoped that Lina, Matt 2, and Matt 3 would all be able to get together with Emily and I while I was here. Although we couldn't meet up all at the same time because of their individual schedules, we were able to meet Matt 3 for tea on Thursday, Lina for a curry on Saturday night, and Matt 2 for lunch today. It was a lot of fun to see all of them, but bittersweet as I won't be seeing any of them again for a long time.

So we spent the afternoon in London today - a bit ironic. I spent Independence Day in the capital of the country from which the US declared independence. My Brit friends enjoyed that, as you might imagine. We had a good time, though. After lunch we went to the National Art Gallery, then hung out in a coffee shop for a little while. We might have done more, but we were blessed with typical London weather: It rained.

Well, I'd love to write more, but as I said, this is my last night in London. I need to go lie on the couch and watch some more TV.

Marrakech

As I approach the end of my time in Morocco, a feeling of sadness sweeps over me and a single tear rolls down my cheek. Oh wait, no. That was sweat. It is ridiculously hot here. I am a little sad to leave, though. I have just 2 days left here in Marrakech before heading back to Madrid and then on to London and Dublin.

Marrakech is a Fun Times city. All kinds of craziness goes on in Djemaa El Fna (the main square) at night. Craziness such as snake charmers...with their snakes...um...charming them; performing monkeys; storytellers; musicians; other random crazy people; there are also guys who walk around wearing hats with tassels on them and carrying a set of cymbals. One of these guys will walk up to a tourist and start rolling his head around to get the tassel spinning while simultaneously singing and crashing his cymbals together. After a few moments of this he will pull off his hat and hold it before the tourist, asking for money. Right. Last night I also observed one guy walking around with a chicken on his head. He didn't appear to be doing anything other than just walking around with this chicken contentedly stationed on top of his head. Weird.

Besides the great entertainment, there are many tantalizing food options which are cooked in open-air food stalls. Each food stall is encircled by picnic-style tables and benches for the convenience of the happy diners. These are lit by bare light bulbs strung over the tables. For any of my readers who are planning to check them out, I have one piece of advice: Don't sit near the lightbulbs unless you wish to share your meal with the local insect population. Regarding the typical fare at these food stalls, a couple of good options are sheep's head and snails. Although I have not tried those specific dishes myself, I have had some lovely couscous, tajine, and brochettes. Maybe I'll try the sheep's head tonight. And maybe not. Ok...not.

Not everything about Marrakech is Fun Times, though. As we were eating our dinner last night, countless children approached us begging for money or attempting to sell small packs of tissue and souvenirs. At one point I reflected that when I was that age, by that time of night I would have already eaten my dinner and gone to bed- but these children were running around in the streets and who knows when the last time was that they had eaten?

Another sad thing here is the general treatment of animals. As I was sitting outside a café drinking mint tea yesterday, a couple of horses pulling a cart went down the street in front of me. They were so painfully skinny that their ribs were sticking out. For the most part, it seems that horses and donkey are overworked and beaten all day long, and they aren't even fed properly. I have also seen quite a few cats, but they are all very skinny and most of the cats I've seen have been kittens, so I assume that not many make it into adulthood. I suppose that animals being malnourished should not be surprising in a country where many people struggle just to feed themselves and their families. Still, it's sad to see and the abuse is even harder to observe.

The souks in Marrakech are pretty impressive. Most large cities in Morocco have souks, they are a labyrinth of shops which sell everything from chess sets, to rugs, to caftans, to tea sets, etc. I bought a pretty cool chess set this morning. I haggled with the guy and got it for half his original asking price. Very fun. Then Matt and I played chess this afternoon and I lost. Not as much fun. Oh well. Next time I'll beat him up first so he lets me win.

We're planning on going back to the souks and doing some more shopping. So if you want a souvenir, post a comment on here with your requests/suggestions. I guess it pays to check my blog...heh heh heh(devilish laugh) But I think I hear the call to prayer (which we loosely translate as the call to mint tea), so I'm off to do my duty and drink some mint tea. Mmmmm....mint tea.

Morocco

I'm in Morocco. I can hardly believe it. I've been so excited about coming for so long. Now I'm finally here, but it seems totally surreal. We took an overnight bus from Madrid to Algeciras last night, then we took a ferry from Algeciras to Tangiers, then a train from Tangiers to Fès. So by the time we got to Fès, it was 6 pm(4 pm after the time change). We left Madrid at 10:30 pm last night. Yeah, that's a lot of travelling. Lucky for me, I can sleep just about anywhere, and after eleven days hiking, it was even easier than usual.

There are so many things I could talk about right now. I'm so excited to be here and I don't really know where to start. After we got settled in at a hotel, we went for a bite to eat. The food was amazing and really cheap. I had my first mint tea and it was really good. Then we walked down some streets crowded with all kinds of different shops selling everything from pottery, to musical instruments, to rugs, to spices. The shops seemed to go on forever. We didn't really stop to look at anything, partly because we didn't want to initiate the whole haggling process and partly because there was just so much, it was a bit overwhelming.

Tomorrow we're going to explore the city some more and find out where the nearest bathhouse (called a hammam) is. They usually have part of the day for men only and part of the day for women only. With all of the knots my back and shoulders have acquired from doing the Camino de Santiago, I am really looking forward to a massage.

If I haven't made it clear already, just being here is amazing. I'm really at a loss for words. There is so much that I haven't even mentioned. As I was telling Matt earlier today, I feel like I'm in the movie, "The Man Who Knew Too Much" (an Alfred Hitchcock film set in Marrakech). I can't describe it. And so, I think I will stop for now and maybe in a few days I'll do a better job.