It's My Pierogi-tive

Last week, the former pope John Paul II (formerly known in Poland as Karol Wojtyla) was deified – no, wait, beatified. Sorry. But here in Poland, he might as well have been deified – in fact, this deification might as well have occurred at least a decade ago. Wikipedia tells me that beatification is the third step on the way to sainthood (again, something that in the case of JP2 and Poland, seems to have already happened), and after beatification, it is acceptable to venerate the individual. Wikipedia has also informed me of the existence of something called “cultus confirmation”, which is similar to beatification except that it’s done in cases where the individual has a local “cult following” – which might be more appropriate in this place, considering the rather tenuous nature of his “miracles” (come on, a Polish child suddenly able to walk after visiting his tomb? I’d believe that as much as I’d believe Iran denying nuclear ambitions…).

The local convent decided to really deck itself out for the occasion. In each window, they had a different picture of JP2 in various poses (see below). There was also a Vatican-esque flag, with the Vatican crest replaced by…yep, you guessed it – a picture of JP2. Most of the travel agencies have also been offering package deals to “Beatyficacja Jana Pawła II” for several months.

I received some strange looks for taking these photographs. I hope you enjoy/appreciate that.

I know I’ve posted this on facebook before, but it never stops entertaining me when I’m in Coffee Heaven.

22C/71F and it hasn’t snowed this week!

While search for flights from New York to Krakow for my parents, I came across this gem:
Finnair, $1203, total time: 66h 30m
New York -> Boston, followed by a 21h 30m layover
Boston -> Heathrow, followed by an 11h layover
Heathrow -> Helsinki, followed by 21h layover.
Helsinki -> Krakow.

For $80 more, you can take a Czech Airlines flight that gets you to Krakow in 13 hours.

I do not understand why anyone in their right mind would choose option A. And I do not understand why airlines think that anyone would consider taking 3 days to go what could be covered in a direct flight in about 8 hours. How is this considered ok?

I’ve been spending too much time in temperate climates lately. I am hoping that today’s precipitation was winter’s last surprise, and spring will be here soon! (I can’t believe that I was sitting in the sun by the Dead Sea less than 36 hours ago.)

If you keep driving south in Morocco, eventually you run into the Sahara. And if you drive to the very end of the road in the Sahara, you end up in a town called M’hamid, near the Algerian border, where the road literally runs into the desert and ends there. It’s a relatively remote (although one of the Berbers referred to it as “the city”!) but extremely beautiful area.

We stayed in a place called Hotel Kasbah Sahara Services – a slightly ridiculous name, but the setting was lovely, and it was incredibly cheap. It was probably the best hotel deal of the trip, in fact. As an added bonus, they also had a restaurant with delicious food, which was nice because M’hamid doesn’t have a whole lot to offer in terms of nourishment.

From M’hamid, we headed back north, stopping twice along the way. The first place was a sort of random “too-tired-to-drive-anymore-today” hotel, which was very nice but completely remote. The second stop, where we split into girls and boys and went our separate ways for a few days was called Taroudannt. Supposedly, Taroudannt is like Marrakesh was 30 years ago. If this is true, then I must say, I prefer modern Marrakesh. After about 7pm, all the women disappear off the street, and as three women travelling without male companions, there was some significant harassment (the nastiest we encountered, in fact).

After a night in Taroudannt, we decided to minimise our stay there and set off in the direction of Essaouira via Agadir in a shared grand taxi. The concept of a grand taxi is most definitely not one that you’d find in Europe or the US – basically, you turn up at wherever the grand taxis (which are intercity, as opposed to the petit taxis, which only travel within cities) depart from, say where you want to go, and wait for the taxi to fill up with other people headed in the same direction. If you can get a full taxi, it’s actually quite inexpensive, but there’s a catch – they pack passengers in like sardines. Seriously. Four across the back, and three in the front (including the driver). We changed grand taxis in Agadir, and this time, we decided that after spending a week crammed into the back seat of a tiny car, then an hour crammed into the grand taxi going to Agadir, we would get our own grand taxi for just the three of us to Essaouira.

Essaouira reminded me a bit of the Greek isles rather than the rest of Morocco – the buildings were all blue and white, and the people were extremely laid back. We also found a lovely hotel here called Riad Inna, notable for having what was possibly the nicest bathroom of the trip (always important). The weather was absolutely gorgeous, although not quite warm enough for me to venture into the sea, but the water was lovely for wading.

While we were in Essaouira, the Moroccans had their “Day of Rage” on 20 February, during which they held protests calling for constitutional reform. Unlike in Egypt or Libya, these protests were relatively minor, particularly in Essaouira, which is not a major city. We coincidentally witnessed the protesters marching through the souk.

After Essaouira, it was back to Marrakesh for a few days, and then home to Krakow.

Travelling in the desert, as well as the few days we spent in Essaouira following that, were my favourite parts of the trip. In both places, the people were generally less aggressive towards tourists than in Marrakesh, where one is constantly harassed by vendors or street urchins looking for baksheesh. Perhaps it’s not fair to include M’hamid in this comparison, since we spent a total of about 5 minutes in the town itself, but there is a definite shift in attitude towards laid-back outside of the major tourist areas, which I think require a certain fortitude and immunity to people screaming at you in order to be enjoyed.

After Madrid, I headed off to Morocco for two weeks. In something of an itinerary-less road trip, we started in Marrakesh, drove south of the Atlas Mountains to Ourzazate, then drove alllll the way south to a place called M’Hamid in the Sahara, went north-west to Taroudant, proceeded to the beach at Essaouira, and then returned to Marrakesh for a few days. In Marrakesh, we stayed at Riad Amazigh (also known as Equity Point Hostel – Marrakesh), which is a riad-turned-hostel and is the nicest “hostel” that I’ve ever seen. It even has a pool! I highly recommend it if you’re in Marrakesh and looking for reasonably-priced riad accommodations. Many of the newer, more posh hotels are located outside of the Medina (the old town), but I personally prefer to stay within the Medina. Perhaps it’s the city girl in me talking, but I like to emerge from my lodgings right into the hustle and bustle of the souks, if I can.

The bulk of the time that I spent in Marrakesh was at the end of the trip, and since I was just there in the summer of 2009, I didn’t feel an overwhleming need to revisit all of the tourist sites. Rather, I was content to wander the maze of souks and just look at all of the goods for sale, which, after months in Poland, seemed so much more exotic. The centre of Marrakesh is the Djemaa el Fna, the main square, which is surrounded by [generally touristy and mediocre] cafes, from where you can observe the happenings in the square. I’ve sampled a few of them, and I think I prefer Cafe Argana, which does a lovely vegetable couscous. During the day, the Djemaa is full of orange juice vendors (insist they fresh-squeeze it!), as well as carts selling dates, figs, nuts, and other dried fruits (which can be found at much lower prices in the derbs, or streets, which lead off of the square into the souks), snake charmers, and women who will attack you and try to paint you with henna.

However, in the evening, a number of food stalls, which serve an assortment of Moroccan foodstuffs, are erected right in the middle of the square. They more or less have similar menus and prices, but my particular favourite is #12, and my favourite food items are the pastilla (basically chicken pie in phyllo, or made with pigeon if you’re more adventurous or have a vendetta against pigeons) and harira (Moroccan soup – vegetarian friendly!). The environment is definitely something that should be experienced if you’re in Morocco, but make sure you have the energy to repel street rats (Aladdin joke) trying to sell you tissues and food stall vendors trying to lure you in. The best approach is to know where you’re headed ahead of time and make a beeline for it.

From Marrakesh, we proceed south through the Atlas Mountains, which is an absolutely beautiful (if slightly terrifying) drive. At this time of year, the passes are clear, but there is still snow in some of the higher peaks. The contrast between the snowy peaks and the desert below is breathtakingly beautiful, and I couldn’t resist getting out to make a snow angel.

We spent the night in Ourzazate, which is best known as being the home of a film studio where desert-themed movies like Gladiator have been filmed. Ourzazate is a nice place to walk around, and the inhabitants were, in my opinion, some of the nicest in Morocco because they simply did not harass the tourists. Anyway, even better than the remnants of the sets themselves is a visit to the casbah of Ait Benhaddou (also a film site of Gladiator), which has some stunning views of the surrounding areas.

After Ourzazate, we drove into the Sahara for more adventures. See Post #2 for those details.

It’s no secret that I’m a bit of a foodie, so when I decided to go to Marrakesh for the break between semesters, I also scheduled a day and a half in Madrid for a food break, since you can’t fly directly from Krakow to Marrakesh anyhow.

But first – a little aside. I went to the Katowice airport today in a very haphazard manner involving taxis, buses, me babbling in Polish, and me nearly having hysterics as I attempted to beat the clock to airport check-in (and made it by about 4 minutes. No joke.). As I exited Katowice, I noticed a restaurant called “City Rock Restaurant Diner”. What?! A diner? In Katowice? Is this for real? I think it warrants further investigation.

Anyway. Madrid happens to be home to what I’m pretty sure is the culinary love of my life – Mercado San Miguel, which is just off of Plaza Mayor. If I lived in Madrid, I’d probably eat there every day. No joke.

It’s a happening place amongst the Madrilenos, and on a Friday night at around 10pm, there was hardly any space to move. What makes it so amazing? First, there is the fresh produce. After months of Polish produce, which is generally anything but beautiful, especially in the winter, my eyes could scarcely believe the colours and variety. I had to remind myself that buying large quantities of mushrooms would be absolutely useless to me in Spain and moved onto the food.

One thing Poland is not known for is seafood, especially of the saltwater variety. For someone who grew up in a coastal area and thrived on fresh seafood, this was a difficult adjustment. Well, at Mercado San Miguel, there is no shortage of fish, both raw and cooked. I went straight for it, starting with the tapas and continuing onto the oysters and caviar.

If I lived in Madrid, I seriously believe that I would dine here every day. The stalls range from the fish to meats and ham, to wine, to cheese, to olives, to desserts, to fresh pasta, to legumes, to fro-yo (which I am definitely going back for tomorrow because that’s something else I haven’t managed to locate amongst the lody in Poland). It really is a sight to behold. There have also been a few recent additions since I was last here in the form of places that grill, and, randomly, a caviar stall which also serves shots of Russkiy Standart.

And I also stopped at a bakery called La Cure Gourmande, which is totally not Spanish, but really good. In addition to biscuits, they have nougat and “chocolate olives” and loads of other tasty confectionery. They also have really beautiful cookie tins, which, sadly, I could not take advantage of this trip because my goal is to keep the Polish apartment free from clutter (and things that will need to be shipped at the end of my residence abroad).

In short, if you are in Madrid and looking for food, check out the area around Plaza Mayor. It’s the best.