I Went to Harrods and All I Could Do was Go to the Loo

It’s true! While a good high school friend was visiting this past weekend we added a visit to Harrods to our list of “must do” things. I had been resisting the urge due to my ever-dwindling bank account (and my desire to travel instead of shop). I quickly learned I had no need to worry. The cheapest dress I found still costs more than a month’s rent so there was no chance of getting swept away (so to say). However, we were able to make our way up the Egyptian staircase to the “Loo” (toilets termed by the Brits). The public bathrooms were nicer (and cleaner) than my own. I even had to resist the urge to sit. We washed our hands in the marble basin and giggled when she asked, “so have you had enough?” “I have if you have,” I replied.

While over all London is the expensive city it is known to be, there are exceptions to the rules. One of my favorite places to shop is Camden Market. There are rows and rows of craft jewelry, scarves, vintage clothing, old books and china sets, posters, etc. The list is endless. However, what makes Camden rank first on my list of markets is the stall after stall of food vendors; where I do believe almost every continent is represented. There is Mexican, Chinese, Indian, Italy, American, Moroccan and so much more. The entrance to the food market is always crowed with over zealous tourists who can’t wait to satisfy their taste buds; but I always stroll to the back (taking an odd sample here and there) where the crowds and the prices are less. On most days the friendly attendees will offer a deal on a meal and a drink just to make a sale. These, in my opinion, are the gems of the market.

Another market I’ve just discovered is within a five to ten minute walking distance of my new abode. The Borough Market is mainly produce that is home grown, organic and absolutely beautiful. Free samples are given on many items and I enjoy walking around sampling different olive oils, breads and baked goodies. On Saturday I was brave enough to try a hot breakfast sandwich called a “Bubble Bap.” This is British bacon (not to be confused with the crispy American bacon, this is most definitely country ham), cheese, eggs and “bubble” (mashed potato and spinach). I think I would have enjoyed the sandwich much more if the chunks of burnt potatoes had been left out of the mix, but it’s all part of the experience, right?

There is a small area down the street from the Green Park tube and located right outside the gate of the park where local artists set up shop to sell their artwork. Most of the paintings and photos are images of the popular London areas. However, there is one artist in particular who has captured my interest. He paints unique abstract art that represent all areas of London and are targeted more for the “Londoner’s” perspective of the city as opposed to a visitor’s view. I can in no way say that I have earned the right to call myself a “Londoner” but as soon as I saw the picture I understood it and loved it. I want that painting and if it’s still available when I’m working then consider it mine!

The more time I spend in this great city the more I appreciate all these little places I am able to enjoy, even on my tight budget. So move over Harrods, you have some competition!

Star Light, Star Bright, First Star I See Tonight

Tonight the sky was clear for the first time in a long while. As I waited on the train platform at the Kingston Station I was able to see the moon - a beautiful quarter crescent - and the North Star. The sight looked like a slightly rearranged South Carolina state flag, although the image is a little different from this view. As I looked up into the cold night air I was reminded of the song Mom would often sing to me growing up. She’d push my bangs back as she stroked my forehead (which I loved and absolutely hated when her arm got tired and she had to stop) and sing

I see the moon and the moon sees me
The moon sees the ones that I long to see
So God bless the moon and God bless me
God bless the ones that I long to see

I remember many instances when I was growing up where I’d be away from her and she would say, “Look out the window. Do you see the moon? I’m looking at the same moon right now. So we aren’t so far away from each other.” On one stubborn occasion I pouted, “No, it’s cloudy” to which she replied, “Well it’s there and we are both under it.” The thought of sharing one moon has always seemed to comfort me. As the years have gone by I have always remembered this and while I don’t always call home to hear it from her, the thought still brings me comfort.

Lately I’ve suffered from brief attacks of homesickness; most of them only last mere moments before I push the thoughts out of my mind and refuse to dwell on missing home. Many of these moments are triggered by the silliest things, for example, when I am not able to find a particular item - when I could name the exact store aisle at home. Then finally when I find what I’m looking for and it’s three times more than my home store price. Then I am presented with a dilemma, standing in the store staring at my much desired item and thinking “How much do I really want/need this item?” which eventually changes to “If I could only pop home, grab what I need, and pop back.” As quickly as the thought enters my head I send it packing right back out again. Still, pushing the desire to shop out of my head is much easier than pushing out the thought of my much missed family and friends.

As I enjoyed this nice clear sky, I couldn’t help but feel comforted by the thought that tonight when all the people I love dearly look up we will be staring at the same beautiful sight. So to all of you at home who I miss so much – I wish you a clear night too.

Snapshots of Marrakesh

Day One

We stepped off the airport bus into a crowded square of people hustling and bustling to sell homemade items, give horse driven carriage rides, take pictures with camels, snakes and traditionally dressed Moroccans. Our faces must have shown how overloaded our minds were trying to process (or maybe it was the group of white tourists with travel backpacks, suitcases and a map that gave us away – I guess we will never know) because we were suddenly swarmed by a dozen people offering to give us directions for a small finder’s fee. Typically, unsuspecting tourists see all these people gracious to help only to be told at the destination point that their services are going to cost 20 to 50 dirham (the current dirham to dollar exchange rate is about 9 dirham to the dollar); we were no different. We weaved our way through the busy square, dodging cars and motorized bicycles (yes, they had petals and motors – pretty clever) following the directions given to us by the hostel. Walk to the big square, find the big Coca Cola sign and take a left, then a right after Café de France, another right at the end of the alley, go through two Moroccan archways and take the first right after the second archway. No street names were given and they wouldn’t have helped anyway. We followed the last direction right down a dark stone ally (a little leery about whether this was where we were suppose to be) and found our way to house number 40. A quick knock on the door and we were welcomed into a rather dark hallway which lead into a candle lit den area. We sat on brightly colored sofas and floor cushions and were served our first tastes of Moroccan tea.

The hostel was lovely all around; the staff was welcoming and greeted us by name, the décor was exactly what I was expecting from an Moroccan household, the rooms were cozy and clean. The one downside, the bathrooms were a little rough, but hey, you can’t have it all.

Our first Moroccan meal was from a little restaurant on the edge of the big crazy square and was recommended to us by our hostel. One of the traditional dishes in Morocco is cooked in a tajine. A tajine is a clay pot with a lid and is heated over an open fire with different meats and vegetables inside. For about £3 we received a personal tajine dinner, bread and a coke. The meal was cooked to perfection, the meat was tender, the seasonings were delicious and the vegetables seemed to melt in my mouth. It was wonderful!

Day Two

We set out early to explore the city of Marrakesh. Map in hand we determined that the best way to find the souks (the shopping area of the square) would be to take a right off the main road. Not only were we lost within a matter of moments, but we also looked lost and had a map! It didn’t take long before a “helpful” man decided to show us the way to the tannery (a place none of us especially wanted to visit or could really understand why anyone would want to. We would much rather buy our leather bags in ignorant bliss in the comfort of the souks shopping area, without seeing the animals being dismembered). We followed for a good fifteen or twenty minutes before we realized maybe following an unknown man down dusty alleys was not the best way to find the area we most desired (plus, the unknown cost for his services was likely to be more than our student budgets). To our unwanted tour guide’s disappointment we were able to escape and found ourselves outside the city walls. We walked around the city until we were back at the entrance to the square where we found that just on the other side was the entrance to the souks. We had taken the scenic route for sure!

Morocco is a rich country in spices, oils and much more. The craftsmanship of their homemade tourist items did not disappoint and we found ourselves enjoying shopping for little things to take home. I’ve never been a big shopper and frankly, the thought of spending hours looking at things I do not need has never really satisfied me (I’d much rather spend my money on trips than things) but I felt like I wanted it all when exploring these little shops. I also discovered I am quite the negotiator and was happy to seek out a bargain or just walk away. Thanks to a friendly little shop owner who offered me a “student discount” I am now a proud owner of a green hookah. I have no idea how to use it and I don’t even know if I have all the parts, but it looks great as a decoration in my room! For a measly £7.50 I was happy to cross that off the bucket list.

Day Three

Breakfast at the hostel was maybe one of the best breakfasts I have ever eaten (and it was free so, of course, that made it that much better). Each day we were offered Moroccan tea and several different types of breads with honey and butter. We filled our tummies, packed small bags with the extras and headed off to explore the countryside in the Ourika Valley. We climbed to the top of the falls and were a little disappointed to find it wasn’t as large as we expected; however, we were more than amused by the homemade refrigerators which sprayed cold spring water on the bottles of water and Coke to keep them cold. The most exciting moment of the trip would be the fight that broke out in the little village while we lunched. At a far enough distance away we were safe from the fury but could see small bits of what was going on. During the course of the argument rocks were thrown, whole trees were picked up and swung around, clothes were stripped off and huge numbers of the community rushed to calm the angry man down. He was forced at one point to bow on a prayer mat; however, this only seemed to fuel his fire. We never found out what the commotion was all about, but we figured it must have been over a girl.

And to top off the end of a great day I even got to take a short ride on a camel. I decided I quite like these creatures and wouldn’t mind taking another ride again some day!

Day Four

We like to pack in the excitement until the very last minute. Our flight back to London wasn’t until around 5 p.m. Our last tour began at 8:45 a.m. where we were taken to the outskirts of the desert and the beginning of the Sahara desert. A facemask, helmet and a pair of goggles and we were ready to go on our first four-wheeling experience through the sandy land. We rode past small mud villages and over the bumpy terrain for two and a half hours until we were back at the van. Covered in dust we shared our personal driving experiences of moments when speed and sand almost didn’t agree and laughed that we had cheated danger. The final conclusion - our time in Marrakesh could only be described as a proper holiday, but how nice our own showers and beds were once we finally arrived back to home sweet London.

* Pictures taken by Eastern Boy