Just more photos

It made me photograph and it was fun.

Just photos

Genova in pink

Genova wears shades of pink.

Sweet

Life's sweet when you stop for an aperetivo right here.

Seaside magic

Seaside magic. A boat trip to somewhere in the middle of the greenest hills and sweetest sea. As I was floating in the water, watching the hilly view around, I thought I'd die of jealousy had I been anywhere else at that very moment.

Big smiles

My other lovelies live in Genova. And Genova is just too cool! I stayed over at their house forever. And longer. I'm praying I wasn't too annoying a guest.

We went to uni with her and he's yet anotherone who's born on the same day with me -not the same year this time, though.

Eataly indeed

They've been living there for four years already -finally got the chance to go! I think Torino wasn't as bad as it's reputations, it was historical and rather nice. But the people in there.. I was shouted at before I even did anything!

We went to a smaller village to visit my friend's in-laws. Name of the game: Sunday lunch. What a treat! Proper Italian meal with a proper Italian family! And my friend herself -she's a goddess in the kitchen, too. I got fed like a little piggy.

Rest of spain

My plans were diminished to none by the time I left Nerja. I was taking a bus to Málaga but hadn't even decided if I wanted to stay there or move further down the coast straight away. I thought time would show -anyway I had almost a full hour to Málaga by bus.. Half way through something unexpectional happens: two of my friends from the beach jump on the bus! Can't believe it -they were supposed to be biking! In Málaga they solve my near future for me and I'm invited to stay over in an argentinian family with four children, a parrot, a kitten, a hamster. She is the oldest of the four and together with her boyfriend they're just simply awesome and so so lovable! The parrot entertains himself during the night by flying around and sitting on my bum, sitting on my head.

We also have a rendez-vous with Twin for some sun and pool time for couple of days and then I'm back to my argentinians to sip some mate-tea for another night. Thanks a million, muchas gracias!

I also hesitate with my next step: should I fly home to Finland, travel to Portugal, go back to Tarifa or visit some friends in Italy. Italy wins in the lottery.

No plans

My next stop was Nerja. It seemed somewhat popular but the crowds never stepped aside the main walk so I simply kept my routes off the other tourists. There were no backpackers around and once again I didn't have a plan for the night. So first things first then: you sit down for a drink, enjoy your free tapas and read your book for a while. Then one thing leads to another and you end up knocking a door and renting a tiny little room from a house that belongs to an old lady with impossible spanish accent.

Beach, books, swim, fruits. Spoil yourself with a delicious meal in an Indian restaurant, it is your birthday anyway, and wonder what does all these Indian eateries do in a little coastal town south of Spain -did they just pop up because you happened to dream of some good mattar paneers and kormas and naan breads? Spend a night at a wonderful little venue with moroccan inspired deco and Real Mint tea -was it there just to make you smile again?

Also, some lovely yoga at the beach. Once I'm done, I go to chat with a guy who's sitting there in the middle of backpacks and bikes. Soon his friends also show up. Turns out they're a group of youngsters from Málaga, most of them with Argentinian origins, and I end up spending the night with them on the beach. They've come from Málaga by bike and as I sit the evening by the little bonfire, I'm trying hard to make my Spanish work again. When I get back to my little room, I got the four elements in me: scent of fire from the bon, summery seaside wind in my hair, feeling the salty waters on my skin and earth in the form of grains of sand.

Airconditioning on, please

Once back in Spain, I stay overnight in cool Tarifa and plan to take a bus to Ronda. But I miss the only bus of the day and end up going back up to Sevilla -which is ever so hot that even the tought of it takes me out of breath. There are two things I need to re-adjust my system to after Morocco: being on my own again and swapping my French back into Spanish. In Sevilla, I decide to invest in myself. I book a yoga class. It is perfect, phenomenal, as if it had been designed for my needs on that day. The lady who takes it carries amazing energy in her. I walk back to my backpackers feeling great.

Then, back on the road again. Two minutes to ten I'm at the bus station, the bus leaves at ten. I'm one of the last to get onboard and I manage to find an empty seat. I sit next to a girl and we start chatting. She is from Taiwan, also going to Ronda. She has an overnight plan, I don't. We end up sharing a room. We pay for it and get the keys. Then a question comes to my mind: 'what's your name? I'm Martta.'

No need to say that Ronda was also burning hot.

Thank you Morocco

After yet another bus ride, it is the night train from Marrakech to Tanger that awaits us. We invest a bit more in the tickets and get ourselves beds instead of seats.

We get on board, the night falls rapidly. I end up sitting on the sticky floor at the back of the very last wagon, right by the toilet door, feeling ever so soft, feeling like a happy traveller. The train is traversing the desert already and I watch how the railway draws a line into the sand. We are a few nights away from the full moon and the landscape is shining. As I sit there, I can see the moon above us and still, in the horizon, the twinkling lights of Marrakech. Junior is sitting next to me and we both got this stupid big fat smile on our faces, a smile that reflects the general awesomeness of our Moroccan times.

The next morning we're in Tanger again, just a boat trip away from Spain. Time to go.

Thank you Morocco, thank you Twin, thank you Junior. Thank you universe!

Stories from the coast

It is our last night on the coast when we start planning our way back. Twin asks the funniest kid of Essaouira about time tables. This is what we get as a response:

''Oh, you can go anytime you like, twice a day!'' Then he goes on saying there is one bus at seven and one at three and one at five, but maybe nothing at three. Got it? Thought so.

It is also somewhere between the last mouthfulls of the dinner and the talk about how we must go out with the funniest kid and his friends that Junior comes up with something. He puts down his fork, lifts his head and looks at me and Twin, who's half asleep, her legs hanging over the Kiwi. ''So.. It is in Morocco that I could actually marry both of you, right?''

You know the rest. Can't. Stop. Laughing.

And then we had tea

No, I don't smoke, he says. You know, smoking and walking, it's not even good for your heart! He throws in a big smile and goes on about something else. The funniest kid of Essaouira. We spend hours at his beach bar -which is not on the beach, actually, but in the end of one little road inside the village. I love it there. Food is super, the best I've had that far, and nothing beats the ambience.

You, finish!
-Yes yes I am Finnish.
No, finish! Finish the food!

It was the Kiwi who took us there. It was also thanks to him that we found a place to stay: he had spotted us on the street and he thought we looked little lost (which was the truth) and he came over in his wetsuit, carrying his kite. He led us to the backpackers and -after it turned out they were fully booked- took us to the house where he was staying over. The family also had a room to rent for the three of us, perfection for only 5 euros a night per person. And then we had tea.

She has legs

Essaouira.

There must have been something in the air, maybe the breeze coming from the sea: the coastal village of Essaouira made us shop. I got myself three (yes, you heard it right, three) teapots, a leather bag and few books. Junior bought a pair of leather flip-flops, (only) two teapots and some little things, too, and Twin went for all things 'little and colorful'.

Now you may ask, of course, if it is little heavy to carry around three teapots in your backpack for the rest of your travels.

Why three, then? Well the one is simply gorgeous. Beautiful. (And heavy.) The other is just a little one, the ordinary basic everyday-pan. And the third, she has legs, and who could resist a female-teapot with legs?

Take what you can carry

There's a German mother who's watching us as we leave the backpackers in Marrakech. 'Isn't it very hard to carry the backpacks in the heat?' she asks. I raise my eyebrows and I can see Twin holding back yet another laughter. I mean, do we really have an option there?? No man, it's such a joy to carry around a backpack when it's plus 44 outside and yes we totally love taking 6-hour bus-rides every other day and it's like we're in tears when we go for our daily outings and we need to leave our stuff at the backpackers and only carry around some 3 litres of water and cameras!

It's guaranteed -we're laughing at this story for the next ''three hours'' on our way to the coast.

About the notion of time

How far is it?
Oh, just walk dis minutes!

How long does the bus ride take?
Oh, three hours!

I had a little smile on my face the first time we heard these two (often repeated) responses. I kind of knew not to expect anything. Soon the others also figured it out. Ten minutes of walking usually meant anything between half an hour and 45 minutes and a three-hour bus ride seemed to be a standard of 6,5 hours on the road. Gotta love the African time.

Marrakech madness

We all fell in love with Chefchauen so that we almost decided to stick to it for the whole 6 days we had. But then, curiosity pushed us onwards and we took a bus to Casa Blanca and then a train down to Marrakech. Marrakech was busy, stressy and, still, funny. By night it went mad, I have never seen such a crowd in my life as what took over the square in the after-sun-hours there. Top it up with couple of monkeys and snakes.

***
Me kaikki rakastuimme Chefchaouenin siniseen maailmaan niin, että melkein päätimme viettää kaikki kuusi päivää siellä. Uteliaisuus vei kuitenkin voiton ja puksutimme ensin bussilla Casa Blancaan josta hyppäsimme Marrakechin junaan. Marrakech oli kiireinen ja stressaava, mutta silti jotenin humoristinen. Pimeällä Marrakech oli villi. En ole ikinä nähnyt sellaista ihmispaljoutta kuin sillä aukiolla auringonlaskun jälkeen. Heitä vielä pari apinaa ja käärmeitä sekaan.