Morocco! The spice your life always hoped it could handle.

Morocco. This evokes a reminiscence in my head that feels so surreal. I was blessed to go to Marrakesh with two people i’ve come to really love and trust, because without them, I may never have experienced everything the way I did.
Morocco offers so much; amazing markets, a rich culture, an array of products from those you didn’t know existed to those that you didn’t think were legal anywhere, food to die for, quality (and cheap) silver and materials and a real observation of community.

Amongst discovering the absolute magic of the ‘big square’ Jam El Fnaa, with snake tamers, sprukers with well practiced catch phrases for every nationality, fantastic food, monkeys, and a great selection of goods, you get to see the community behind this place.
This was the catalyst for some bargaining nightmares, and as a tourist not the best thing for you sometimes, but the entrepreneurs from ages 4 and above will try to sell you anything for the worth of whats in your wallet. The best part is, bartering is good sport there, rather than just a way to look cheap.
One thing that (mostly in hindsight) stands out above everything is that every shop owner, tradesman, taxi driver to the average street walker will help each other out and never sell each other out, to make a quick buck out of the tourists. An amazing level of community that means you absolutely must be sure that you’re not being ripped off beyond belief, but something that showed how strong the community bond was. The people where very nice though, all in all met some of the nicest taxi drivers in the world, one who, for no extra charge took us to a dealers market on our way to the big square, taught us some Arabic and a bit about the culture. Which if we had been interested in shipping some amazing goods back to Australia would have been very handy.
If I ever get the chance to go back to Morocco, which i hope i do, I would like to travel with a male, as we did run into a few moments of unwanted attention, however it all worked out well in the end. I certainly don’t want to go down the road of pondering religion, sexism and tourism all in one post. I was happy to be travelling with two girls who had the sense, like myself, to be a bit more conservative with dress in these places, and respect the local customs by doing this. It did add to the overall experience, in many interesting ways.

We furthermore got to go up closer to the Atlas mountains on a day trip where we met women who make Argon oil for a living, followed by a very nice camel ride! The amount of riverside eateries there are also incredible. eating on the riverbank before climbing up to a waterfall.

These two photos represent some of the best parts of an unforgettable day.
Morocco in general was an absolutely amazing destination and one i would definitely recommend.

Experience level – absorbed.

Well, it has been months since I have blogged, and I have managed to get myself into the dangerously active but comfortable day to day life (well mine atleast) of France. It was more than easy to blog in the first two months of being here, when things were new, fresh and open for observation. Now that i find myself actually experiencing day to day life, blogging about my adventures seems a little ‘dear diary’. But none the less its a fantastic way to analyse the world around me as i experience it, more so now than see it.   
I have been on many trips since my last entry. Firstly Paris.
The controversial capital itself. The city of lights sure leaves a bright impression on those not so well travelled, and well travelled alike. It has so many facets, it’s absolutely amazing that you can find some of the cleanest most beautiful and historic things in this city, and their fundamental opposite right down the road. I have actually probably heard more negative things about Paris from travelled friends than good, which leads me to believe that my opinion was slightly biased when I visited, but I loved it. Granted I didn’t go in high tourist season, which means i managed to avoid the ridiculously huge crowds leading to theft and copious other difficulties.
Paris for me was nothing less and nothing more than I was expecting. I expected magical monuments that carry more significance than the mind likes to comprehend, as well as some of the rougher and tougher aspects that add to Paris’ charm and impression leaving stereotype.  
Thanks to some good company, I also managed to discover some of Paris’ most undervalued shopping, which was their amazing variety of second hand/vintage stores. One that i found a couple of streets back from (what i remember as) hotel de ville – with the merry-go-round and ice rink – was an absolutely packed treasure trove where I picked up my now favourite pair of boots and a skirt that another lady tried to bargain out of my hands. 

Free ‘P’ Star

61 rue de la Verrerie. Paris 4è.

Métro : Hôtel de Ville.

I can’t help but advocate, as someone who was completely new to vintage shopping, but had been to a few earlier that day. Impressed

And, everyone needs this kind of proof they were in Paris, even if it’s not their best photo ….

You will be ruined…and you will like it.

The first time you move out of home, there are a certain few things you expect from the experience. You expect to get a little home sick, you expect to stuff something up, break something, get lost, take a lot longer to go from wearing a towel to being dressed and many other things. One of things that I didn’t expect of myself was to get creative and weird with my day to day life.
Exhibit A: Why simply pour your milk into your cereal, when you can cut the tiniest hole possible and jet it into the bowl, allowing you to slowly coat each individual piece of  cereal soaking through to the one below it, and repeat.

Exhibit B: Further usefulness for tiny milk hole; it drains while you do
I wont say this is the only bizarro facet of a still developing habitual rhythm, all I can say is moving out will change me… just when I thought the internet was going to make me an irreversible retard
In mine and every other newly moved out wierdo’s defense, there’s nothing more mildly entertaining than a little twist in your daily rituals. I will sit back and take solace in the fact that i hate dub-step, whilst every normal person’s leaning forward to pour their milk.

Gloria victis ~ the lady who saved a fallen angel.

Finally this gorgeous sculpture gets the back-story that it deserves.
On my visit to ‘hotel de ville’ I returned to this statue and took photos of the information given for it.

Ok, so essentially this is ‘Gloria Victis’, Gloria is the woman who carries the form of sentiment ‘Gloire aux vaincus’ (glory to the vanquished). She carries this fallen warrior angel in his defeat, to symbolise the patriotism of France, who in its time (1870) was conscious of the heroism that continued regardless of the fallen war fronts. My most favourite part of this statue is the history behind the artist, Marius-Jean-Antonin Mercié.  He was practically a hermit artistic genius who hated society and rarely left his house, and had a very small inner circle of friends, he lived well out in the countryside and dedicated his life to giving France some of the most amazing artwork I have ever seen in my life.
His always symbolic artworks are scattered around France, with Paris having purchased this one for a rumoured 12000 francs, a great buy for the 1870′s! This one, like many others is a replica, the original is in Paris’ Hotel de ville, in Montholori square. Many cities in France have a ‘hotel de ville’ so if searching for a replica yourself  for a close taste, I’d go where the old-fashioned money flows.

Why you no born this dumb?

The day after Friday night,
Wow. There’s something to be said for getting pretty drunk on a Friday night other than for the god damn sake of it, especially if you’re writing a paper on courtship.  Which technically means I was researching last night (win at life points much??) One thing I just cannot help but laugh at is the way SOME French guys act when they want to get in your pants. All the power to them for trying so hard, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with having a little fun, it’s just so bizarre how some people use different paths to get there! Maybe it is because I am a foreigner and champagne is french, but telling me you have champagne in your fridge at home is not going to make me leave with you, nor is telling me that if my purpose for being here is to learn french, then I may as well scream it out in your bedroom. I refuse to believe that these lines ‘work’. For people who have scored with them, stop fooling yourself, it’s because of a mutual interest i.e. the other person made a conscious decision to go home with you because they happened to be looking for the same thing, not because one second they weren’t interested and after your amazingly smart remark they decided you were bed worthy.
I am however going to put it down to cultural difference, surely they could not have been born that dumb? I will also recognise that the reason I think it’s dumb is because I have been brought up with a completely different way of acting (…and cause it’s dumb).

Moving out derp #2

So, I am newly 21, newly moved out for the first time, in a new country. With the insanely large amount of trouble i could find if i tried (or if i was unlucky :S), I have managed to stick quite steadily to very ridiculously simple mistakes.
Mistake #1 Frying the sticker on the bottom of my new pan, to my new electronic stove top – marks never to be properly removed.
Mistake #2 Waiting 1 month before finding a laundromat and washing any clothes at all; carrying in the realm of 15kg of clothes to a laundromat 10 minutes away, 1 hour before it closed, misinterpreting the very kind laundry operator guy who told me in French that I didn’t need to change my notes into coins, asking him to hold a machine for me whilst i run and get my notes changed into coins, not having enough time to finish drying all my clothes, carrying back clothes twice as heavy as they were before, turning my room into an absolute circus in order to find places to hang or even place my clothes for them to dry, making a network of light sticky hooks and strings to hang my clothes on, having my network collapse on me and further find random door knobs, light fixtures and window sills to hang them on…. all the whilst talking to myself in a ‘mad scientist on a role’ manner.

And coming home with this here t-shirt!
Anyone of the capacity to explain the unicorns, please seek mental health care assistance,

Sincerly,
Noob

The companion that never leaves you even when you want it to!

The Mind….
One thing living alone has made me realise in a big way is that one can never keep themselves busy enough in every second of the day, in order to keep the subconscious ghosts out of the conscious. I feel that I’m very lucky in that I understand that my brain is going through chemical change (some great personal study to get into – brain chemicals and how they effect your day to day life – especially, how they affect the way you see loved ones). When you miss people, when you feel as if you have lost something (even if ‘lost’ is not where it is), thoughts creep into your mind, sadness threatens the corner of your demeanor. Something I almost have to write down just to believe is that I am just as fine now without the same environment as I was with it. I can describe many similar things of today that I was blessed to have before; lovely people (pseudo family), the comfort of learning and having a focus and a purpose for being here, and the ultimate and ever-present possibility of great fun and adventure. Your mind is often your best friend, and everyone can admit they have had a good conversation with themselves in the past. So the conversation I must have with myself tonight includes schooling my head, so that I can find my tail.
Travelling, I have decided, is my time to try on every tail on the road to the tail that fits.