marruecos

we took a ferry across the strait of gibraltar over to africa and spent friday - sunday in morocco. one day i'd like to go back and visit fez and marrakech, but for our virginial excursion we spent our short time in tangier exploring the medina and zocco markets.

it reminded me a lot of the philippines.

definitely culture shock hit me a lot harder than it did with coming to spain.



come sunday we all were wishing we had more time to get to know tangier and explore the city.



i didn't take many pictures, as i somehow managed to fall UP a cliff and am now missing flaps of skin from 3 fingers, 2 knees, and a good chunk of my ego. perhaps kristen will be willing to share some of her fotos. girl was on a foto snapping craze.

my favorite part was getting lost and walking circles around the different outdoor markets. i didn't want to walk around zocco taking pictures b/c i'm sure we already stuck out enough.

cafe hafa is built on the side of a cliff overlooking the strait of gibraltar and we sat there drinking the most amazing cups of mint tea until the sunset. the atmosphere was chill - locals sat at tables playing cards, watching the water, and just enjoying life. words cannot express.

and though i'm not very eloquent, do know that the mint tea was touch yourself good.



here's kristen and shir ditching the tabeled area and moving their chairs to the very edge of the cliff. i kinda sat in the back b/c i'm clumsy.









when we first got to tangier, tim said something along the lines of "i can still be culturally sensitive and call this place a hell hole."



haha agreed! of course we were proven wrong in the end, which is definitely a good life lesson to learn.

personally, i believe there's a sense of greatness in every city, whether it be the history, the art, architecture, or even the people and sense of community. however, there's also an underbelly side to every city. we just happened to see the underbelly first...

in further travel news, we're leaving tomorrow night for our london/dublin/howth/liverpool trip. hopefully we'll get to meet up with jp in londres. back by may 1st!

not quite.

there's another american girl in my psych class, and today went something like this:

ag: i'm from dc. i live in adams morgan. which school do you go to?
me: georgetown.
ag: ohh, you're one of those

oh. no. you. didn't.

georgetown has a reputation. ok, fine. but anyone who knows me knows that i--obviously--do not fulfill the stereotypical georgetown douchebag (douchebag, yes. georgetown douchebag, no).

so, having been slightly affronted, i get all up in ag's face and and say: there's only one true judge, and that's God. so chill, and let my Father do his job.

ag simply stares at me with wide, shocked eyes. smiling inwardly, i excuse myself from the situation, pop my collar, and walk away.

ok so obviously, none of that happened. instead, i just laughed at her comment b/c it was too hot to get into a fight. that's what i get for wearing 4 layers of collared shirts and matching orange, plaid golf pants. if my blackberry weren't in my louis, i'd have swung my bag at the ho.

picture post: portugal (lisboa, lagos, faro)

lisboa:





priavate shower stall in our lisboa hostel:



conspicuously transparent from the outside looking in though not vice versa. we found this amusing.

the second hostel, the one in lagos, was actually an apartment and we lived next door to the owner. for only 13E/night!



she baked us fresh bread and gave us apple juice. i fell slightly in love and hugged her twice.

the best part of lagos:












we got stuck in faro, which was quite unfortunate b/c the only thing to do there was point and laugh at the giant bird:

i > you in spades

it's 6am and i just got back from our 6 day excursion to portugal. today could have very well been considered the longest day EVER, but i suppose i'm the type of person who thrives off of situations like today.

ok so thrive is a bit too ambitious, and perhaps "easily adapts" is more like it.

in any case, there was only 1 available seat on the sole bus back from lagos to sevilla. peace out, bitches! i exclaimed as i paid the ticket and ran to the bus. ok...well not really but one can always dream, yeah?

our best bet was to ditch the bus idea, take a train to villa real (boarder of portugal and spain), and then hopefully get from villa real back to sevilla either via train, bus, or camel.

simple enough, yeah?

our train to villa real made a hour stop in the city of faro. while there, we figure out that once we actually do get to villa real, the only way to sevilla is by boat. haha

no idea what they meant by boat, but i'm sure we all pictured a "sail-around-the-world columbus/new world voyage"-esque boat trip. either that, or it would have cost around 40E.

riiight...so we spent the day in faro waiting for the cheaper 2am bus back to sevilla. have you ever spent 11 hours playing cards and migrating from mcdonalds, to a park, to an outside restaurant, back to mcdonalds, and then finally to the bus station? it's doable, but you're not missing out. each location we spent a handful of hours and sporadically bought a few items off the menu to prevent us from being kicked out for loitering.

today could have very easily been quite unfortunate, since there is complete fuck all to do in faro (aside from visiting the beaches, but we were all beached out from Lagos). but if you ask me, it was chill. relaxing.

a notable lack of 7elevens

during dinner tonight, host mama was describing what she had served as the side dish. she's telling me there is meat inside and how all you have to do is put it in the microwave. then, as she was stumbling over further descriptions, she turns to her son pepe and asks, "what is it called again?"

to which pepe replies, "burrrrrito."

i stifled a laugh and inadvertently almost spit my food out. also, is it wrong that i like the way pepe rolls his Rs?