Monthly Archives: December 2013

The high life

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Almost a perfect day

Almost a perfect day

Is Zermatt a town you want to go to if you’re on a budget? Hell no! I think that this long weekend skiing in Zermatt has cost us more than the rest of the holiday put together – but talk about picture perfect. The pricier hotels will even pick you up from the train station in a horse drawn carriage – sleigh bells and all. We’re not staying in one of those (although in Zermatt everything is pricey), but the lovely Hotel Phoenix instead. I’ve got to stop saying it’s a winter wonderland, but snow just makes me giddy with delight (as do turtles).

Skiing has been a bit of a challenge with just two days to do it in – my first day was mostly spent falling down. One time I even managed to stack it so that I ended up on my back, upside down on the slope with skis in the air just before a pack of ski instructors whizzed past – all with grins on their faces. It was actually pretty funny, but I’m glad there was no photo evidence all the same. I have been skiing once before but the ski instructor I had would invariably catch me before I fell. This one just lets me fall so I learn quicker. Well it worked – the second day I conquered my fears and that dastardly slope without falling over once!

I wouldn’t say Zermatt is particularly beginner friendly though – and I’m definitely not a natural skier. Those who have seen me on the basketball court won’t find this at all surprising. I certainly like the apres-ski side of things however, although I’m flabbergasted at the cost of dinner in some places – and don’t get me started on the clothes shops – yikes! This is one holiday where I’m too scared to go into the shops for fear I might be tempted to buy that $300 beanie (not even exaggerating a little here).

…so that’s it for a while. Now it’s back home to Australia for xmas and to plan my next adventure. Tahiti looks nice 🙂 .

Worth mentioning:

  • Snowboat – a yacht club in Zermatt? Well it looked hokey but was really nice. Not cheap, but then nothing is in Zermatt except, one assumes, McDonalds.

There’s something in the water

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Soooo frickin' cold

Propping up the wall (soooo frickin’ cold)

I always suspected that Berlin would evoke an emotional response given the part Germany played in the World Wars, but what I didn’t expect was the intellectual response it would engender instead. If you’ve been keeping up with my blog you might think that all I’ve been doing is drinking my way through Europe – but it’s my inalienable right to do that! I can scarcely give it credence that a world could exist where I didn’t have the freedom that I have. Of course this led to a discussion on the sort of person we would have been if we were born post WW II Berlin. I was certain I couldn’t have kept my mouth shut and would have been locked up if I hadn’t already thrown myself over the wall, while Chris reckons he would have taken the passive resistance route. I’m thankful we will never know the answer to that, but it’s a sobering thought.

Lumineers in Berlin

Lumineers in Berlin

Of course this trip didn’t start out with so much introspection (predominantly fueled by alcohol it has to be admitted) – we were only in Berlin to see The Lumineers in concert and everything else was just an added bonus. However if the only thing we saw was The Lumineers then the trip would still have been worthwhile. They were fantastic and everything a live act should be. On our way back from the concert a busker just happened to be singing a Lumineers song in the subway which resulted in an impromptu chorus from passersby. All we needed to complete the experience was a flash mob.

The food highlight was the German tapas we had at Leibhaftig which was unexpectedly delicious. It was surprising the number of ways they could cook sausage. Obviously the lowest common denominator was in full effect when I tried to persuade the cook to trade his t-shirt for my hat simply because his shirt said “wanke beer”. I’m a little ashamed (and quite obviously Australian), but a couple of cocktails prior to this made me think it would be an awesome present for my nephew, Hamish. On second thought, Hamish may not have been so appreciative of a second hand t-shirt ripped from a stranger’s body after a night of drinking, but it’s the thought that counts *lol*.

Foodie haunts:

Sink or swim

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Tough work on the things this camel trekking.

Tough work on the thighs this camel trekking business.

Oh. Dear. God. My solo trip to Budapest did not in any way prepare me for a solo trip to Marrakech. To say I feel out of my depth is an understatement. I think it is just time to face facts that I’m not an itinerant dilettante travelling the world but someone who is really never happier than when she’s at home. Not that Marrakech is not fabulous – I’m looking forward to exploring the souks and trekking the mountains etc – but on my own, initially, it’s rather terrifying. Not that I’m letting that stop me –although alcohol is not quite as easily to be had here so I’m having to venture further out than I would normally at night just to steady my nerves. But I refuse to let my fears get the better of me!

What a difference a day makes… While the first night was overwhelming, the second day involved a trek to a berber village. And a camel. What more could you ask for? Actually riding a camel is not as comfortable as it might look and I was begging to come off after the first hour, but it is now done and I can cross it off my bucket list. I would like to go for a longer trek but I’m unable as yet to reconcile my need for a western style toilet and roughing it. Also, on the way to the village I saw a haunch of meat hanging from a road-side stall which doesn’t fill me with confidence for any meat dish I eat in one of these nearby restaurants. Naturally it was still there when we returned in the afternoon <shudder>. Fortunately I have figured out how to find my way back to the Riad at night and drinking alone doesn’t bother me anymore so I’m pretty relaxed.

A traditional hammam the next day had me scrubbed within an inch of my life. It’s pretty disgusting seeing just how much dead skin you’re carrying on you – though I think they scrubbed off some real skin too – definitely a bit pink after that one! You kind of have to let modesty go out the window though because their hands are everywhere! I’ve wandered through the markets, trying not to be drawn in by all the bright shiny objects I could have for only a few dollars (if I bargain well) but keeping an eye out for charlatans and animal handlers. I live in terror of someone draping a live cobra around my neck. Mind you, they will be awfully surprised when I scream like a banshee and run for my life. Hope the damn thing doesn’t bite me in the meantime.

There’s a certain feel to Marrakech that you just don’t get travelling through Europe. It’s noisy, colourful, manic, entertaining and bloody hell is it smelly, but just throwing yourself into the flow of life here has been kind of liberating. I will return…