Kat and Ben

Leaving Aldershot
Aldershot, United Kingdom
After many a goodbye with friends we left Aldershot – A sad affair as we said goodbye to our lovely flat on the 6th March and went out with Katrice for a fry-up. It hit home for us when we realised we couldn’t go back to our own home after then for a shit as the new tenants were moving in that same day.
written by  Kat and Ben on March 6, 2009 from Aldershot, United Kingdom
from the travel blog: Kat & Ben's World Adventure

Goodbye Heather
Farnborough, United Kingdom
From there we stopped by Ben’s big sister’s house to endure an hour of Heather, Ben’s six year old niece, demanding piggy-back rides and ran us completely ragged. We took some pictures and some funny memories to take with us.
written by  Kat and Ben on March 6, 2009 from Farnborough, United Kingdom
from the travel blog: Kat & Ben's World Adventure

Goodbye G
Newbury, United Kingdom
Cramming back in to the jam-packed car, we headed for Newbury for a flying visit to say our last goodbyes to Kat’s sister Georgina, her partner Alec and dog. Another tearful departure making Kat miss her big sister more than ever, but before we could say another word we jumped in the car and headed to Swindon.
written by  Kat and Ben on March 6, 2009 from Newbury, United Kingdom
from the travel blog: Kat & Ben's World Adventure

Swindon
Swindon, United Kingdom
More goodbyes for Kat’s family as we drove to Wootton-Bassett to stay a night or two with Nanna Wilson. We did the Wilson thing and went out for a curry with Nan, Auntie Helen, Emma and Callum. We managed to see one of Kat’s cousins Danny the next day to a goodbye where Ben was taken aback with a big hug from the sentimental guy when we left. We were welling up as it was hitting home that we won’t be seeing our families for a long time.
written by  Kat and Ben on March 7, 2009 from Swindon, United Kingdom

Uncle Marks Farm
Sedbergh, United Kingdom
uncle mark's
Uncle and aunt's house
Tears aside we left Swindon for the next leg of the journey, which was to Sedbury just below the lake district. The drive up was pretty good, but it was raining a fair amount. Kat was growing nervous as we were off to stay with Ben’s Aunt and Uncle, who live on a farm and happens to be a Reverend… so not only was it the first time Kat had met them, the swearing animal loving atheist, who doesn’t plan on getting married was apprehensive on the first meet. Although being told off a couple of times Kat survived the trip and even came tenth place in their local dominoes rally and won a bottle of fizzy drink that was 3 years out of date.
Uncle mark's house
Going for a Paddle
ben's aunt and uncle's river
written by  Kat and Ben on March 8, 2009 from Sedbergh, United Kingdom

Burrall collection
Glasgow, United Kingdom
Two days later and halfway to Scotland we travelled further north to Glasgow. Our friends Sandy and Trevor had advised that we visit the Burrall collection, where we got lost in the vast museum looking at thousands of artefacts collected all over the world. This made us really excited as we began thinking about all of the places we’ll get to see on our travels. A main reason for going through Glasgow was to see the area where Kat’s granddad Collins was born, the Gorbals. Although we only saw factories and chimneys, it was an experience driving through the industrialised area and a good feeling that we had been to his birthplace.
written by  Kat and Ben on March 10, 2009 from Glasgow, United Kingdom

Ben Nevis ¿
Fort William, United Kingdom
rainy
We carried on up to Fort William that same day as Ben was dubious about leaving the car anywhere in Glasgow. We found a hostel using wifi at a service station on the m6 so we knew we’d have a bed for the night. On our way up the scenery was beautiful with the snow covered mountains, but as it started to get darker the awed feelings suddenly left our faces when we very nearly ran out of petrol in the middle of nowhere on the A82. We were so lucky to actually reach civilisation and fill the tank up. Kat was still buzzing from seeing mountain deer and was trying to take pictures through the torrential rain. After a really long drive we got to the hostel and went out for some food nearby. At this point Ben was craving Chinese like a pregnant woman and who could argue with him for having done an amazing job of getting us to Fort William in one piece. After a lucky find of the only Chinese restaurant in Fort William, we took our stuffed bellies back to our hostel and slept in our bunk-beds for the night.
The following morning it was really foggy so on the drive up to Inverness (Loch Ness) we didn’t get to see Ben Nevis. It was on our things of lists to see and perhaps climb if the weather was permitting, but unfortunately it was still too snowy.
written by  Kat and Ben on March 10, 2009 from Fort William, United Kingdom

Car Trouble
Fort Augustus, United Kingdom
So our luck wasn’t with us that morning as the car decided to brake down just before we got to Fort Augustus. Ben being the readily prepared gadget man he is knew that one of the coil packs stopped working, so we limped on 3 cylinders a few Miles for a safe place to stop to look under the bonnet. We found a car park and an old man who was eating his lunch offered some pliers to remove the faulty coil and drive Ben to the local garage to see whether it was worth buying a new coil pack or alternatively unloading the whole car to find the spare one Ben already had. As it turned out, car parts cost twice as much in Scotland and would also mean having to wait until they got the part in, so we unloaded the car just as it started to rain, typical. We managed to fix the car and didn’t get too wet, so we were still in ok spirits all things considered on our drive to see Nessie.
written by  Kat and Ben on March 11, 2009 from Fort Augustus, United Kingdom

Nessy
Inverness, United Kingdom
Kat has Scottish routes on her mum’s side of the family so remembering a photo she saw of the loch in her nan’s house was something she wanted to see for herself. We stopped at a travel information office just outside Inverness and found out some interesting facts about the loch, its 23miles long, 1mile wide, 800ft deep, and it holds more water than all of the UK and Wales’s reservoirs and lakes put together. It is also thought to have been made in the last Ice Age over 10,000 years ago, which leads to the suggestion that it’s possible that perhaps there could be a creature of the deep hiding down there… Although we didn’t see Nessie on this trip we did get to experience the longest indoor train set in one of the local tourist haunts. Rock N Roll.
written by  Kat and Ben on March 11, 2009 from Inverness, United Kingdom

Edinburgh
Edinburgh, United Kingdom
Still on the same day that we left Fort William we drove all the way around Loch Ness and headed to Edinburgh where we took some fantastic pictures of the landscape and long roads that went on for Miles.
We had managed to look for a hostel in Edinburgh that morning so we had somewhere to head to and park the car. The hostel was pretty easy to find as it was literally across the road from the castle. As it turned out we booked the smallest attic room with double-bed and sink in a huge medieval looking building. With the Scotland vs Ireland Rugby match coming up the place was absolutely buzzing with people and had a welcoming atmosphere. Although hostels tend to have the connotations of being a bit of a doss house, it was quite luxurious having a communal room with pool table, TV, sofas, kitchen area and a separate ‘posh lounge’ with an open log burning fire, leather sofas, a full sized grand piano where another guest started playing the classical score from the Chanel advert. Very suave.
piper
Unfortunately they only had the one night available, so the following night we stayed in a upmarket Travel Inn with hot water, towels and a power shower. We went out both nights we were there and got to see a lot of the amazing city and if we could, would have loved to have gone back for a long weekend with a group of friends. The architecture is very much gothic and the nightlife seems to go on and on. We walked the Royal Mile, which seems so much longer than a mile if you’re combining it with a pub crawl and had our first vegetarian/vegan dining experience at a restaurant called David Bann – amazing!
written by  Kat and Ben on March 11, 2009 from Edinburgh, United Kingdom

Bamburgh Castle
Bamburgh, United Kingdom
very windy
written by  Kat and Ben on March 11, 2009 from Bamburgh, United Kingdom

Angle of the North
Newcastle upon Tyne, United Kingdom
angel from the road
It was time to say bye bye to Edinburgh and head to Ben’s little sister’s place in Stoke-on-Trent, however en-route we drove via Newcastle (Angle of the North), Bamburgh Castle (For the largest or longest sand dunes), Lamberton (by fluke James) and then landed in Stoke in time to watch the Rugby. We stayed over one night with Lizzie in her student gaff and unfortunately didn’t get to meet ‘the beasts’ whom she and two of her friends share the house with, but had fun getting to know her friends.
written by  Kat and Ben on March 13, 2009 from Newcastle upon Tyne, United Kingdom

Goodbye Lizzie
Stoke-on-Trent, United Kingdom
It was time to say bye bye to Edinburgh and head to Ben’s little sister’s place in Stoke-on-Trent, however en-route we drove via Newcastle (Angle of the North), Bamburgh Castle (For the largest or longest sand dunes), Lamberton (by fluke James) and then landed in Stoke in time to watch the Rugby. We stayed over one night with Lizzie in her student gaff and unfortunately didn’t get to meet ‘the beasts’ whom she and two of her friends share the house with, but had fun getting to know her friends.
written by  Kat and Ben on March 13, 2009 from Stoke-on-Trent, United Kingdom

Goodbye Bens Parents
Rollesby, United Kingdom
From there we were off again to Norfolk for a few nights R&R with Ben’s parents. After managing to sly talk our way into leaving one or two things up in their loft, we repacked the car so we could actually see out of the back window, albeit slightly. We found a really cheap ferry crossing on the 18th March from Dover to Dunkirk around £25 for both of us and the car and it was only a 45min crossing - not enough time for a little sleep after setting of from Norfolk at 6am.
written by  Kat and Ben on March 14, 2009 from Rollesby, United Kingdom

Goodbye ENGLAND
Dover, United Kingdom
leaving UK
white cliffs
We found a really cheap ferry crossing on the 18th March from Dover to Dunkirk around £25 for both of us and the car and it was only a 45min crossing - not enough time for a little sleep after setting of from Norfolk at 6am.
written by  Kat and Ben on March 15, 2009 from Dover, United Kingdom

Hello France
Dunkerque, France
heading to Dunkirk
The ferry docked on time at around 2pm and we set of on our journey to just south of Paris to a small village called Dravail where even the Chinese didn’t speak Chinese let alone English!
written by  Kat and Ben on March 15, 2009 from Dunkerque, France

Dreaded Draveil
Draveil, France
So we both had difficulty ordering our meal after being stuck in rush hour traffic around the Paris ring roads for 2 hours making it 9:30pm when we eventually sat down to dinner, but more importantly a cold beer.
Rubbish Hotel first night in france
We stayed at ‘Hotel Crap Hole’ (we forget the name) which was bloody awful. Nothing worked, it had bare wires in the light fittings, a window that wouldn’t open or lock for that matter, the toilet and sink was grubby and, Ben would have complained that it didn’t have free wifi as advertised! The last straw was when Ben tried the shower in the morning the pressure of the water blew the fixtures apart, so we packed up early complained at reception about the shower and he offered us use of a shower from another room. However, having been dressed packed and ready to go we told him we wanted discount for the inconvenience and knocked off a couple of euros.
written by  Kat and Ben on March 15, 2009 from Draveil, France

Kats Parents and Friends
Vouleme, France
Having left earlier than expected and the French speed limits being 130km on dry days we made it to Kat’s parents (Louise & Steve) house in Nieuillet in good time. We arrived on the 19th March about 2pm, just in time for French bread, cheese and a cold beer as the weather was boiling hot. They had converted their upstairs game room to accommodate a bedroom for us to stay in whilst we were there, which was cornered off from the rest of the room with a curtained wall. It was really cosy and it gave us a little space from Kat’s parents so we didn’t end up killing each other as previously anticipated due to it being 5 years since Kat had lived with her parents.
me and dad
me and mum
Funnily enough we all got along really well and the rest is history as we stayed there for about two months preparing for the next step of our travels around Africa, getting Ben’s rabies jabs, sorting out anti-malarial tablets (what a nightmare) and going through all of our belongings again to get it all to fit in two 65litre rucksacks. When we were not pulling our hair out about visas etc.
we helped Kat’s parents restore all of the brick work in their courtyard which was once an out-building. It had previously been knocked down to one level and all cleared out of rubble ready for us to start mucking out the shit between the stones and begin pointing. Our friend Kelly came over for a few days and got roped into the work where we all had a laugh and Kat managed to catch up on some girlie time.
We loved working outdoors and the weather was really good most days. Although the physical work was meant to make us fitter, we found ourselves putting on weight! No doubt it was from all of the cheese, bread and alcohol consumed… best get it all in now and make the most of it!
edna's owners
Life in rural France has a lot more of a slower pace than what we were and are used to, but we mixed in well with the locals and played boules on Thursdays and were regular visitors at the local café, Edna’s. Everyone was really friendly and made us feel welcome; Kat even managed to learn some notes on her guitar from Jim (mad Scotsman) which she’s sadly had to leave with her parents.
snake catching
pesky snake
We definitely had some experiences whilst we were in France, one of which was catching a meter long grass snake in the garden so Kat’s mum wouldn’t freak out at the sight of it. Another sight we won’t forget is Kat’s dad doing the hula hoop on Julia and the girls’ Wii Fit… So far we have been very lucky and were sad to say goodbye to the friends we made out there, especially to Kat’s parents neighbours who seemed like family when you got to know them and run a really lovely B&B if anyone fancies a mini-break in the future…
Kat’s parents had left for their villa in Spain about a week before we left so the house seemed really empty without them, but it gave us time to have a last flap about what we needed to pack, throw and store. It was also Ben’s birthday in the 17th May so we went over to Julia and Bob’s for a Sunday roast and went to the pub quiz after to meet our team buddies, Jim and Margaret. We cut it fine with the timing and apparently held up the quiz from starting (oops), but as we entered everyone started singing Happy Birthday to Ben. It was also Jim’s birthday that day and Margaret’s the day after so there was quite a bit of celebrating and ended in the two of us zig-zag walking the very dark and spooky way home in high-res jackets and using the torch from Ben’s camera.
Making it home in one piece and after Kat suffering a hangover from hell the next day, we found ourselves getting to our last day in France.
edna's cafe
friends
After going through all of our possessions during our last day we popped down to Edna’s one last time to say our goodbyes, before going back to the house and finishing the packing and tidying 2am. The majority of it was done, but ended up sleeping in until 7am, which was our original leaving time. Rushing around like crazies to tie up all of the loose ends, we packed up the car, said ‘au revior’ and left at 10am for Barcelona.
written by  Kat and Ben on March 16, 2009 from Vouleme, France

The Tunnel
Andorra la Vella, Andorra
tunnel through the Pyrenees (big mountains)
Avoiding the toll roads or ‘Peages’, our journey took us through some beautiful coastal and landscape scenery, one being the Pyrenees mountains on the outskirts of Andorra and along a minor road through a small village that acted as the border between France and Spain. Going through Spain’s backdoor was so surreal, there was just as sign saying ‘Espana’ to indicate that we were now in Spain. We got to Barcelona for about 7pm, with no idea of where we were going to stay and no idea of where to park the car with all of our things in. Ben was so desperate for the loo at this point after being in the car for hours, he Christened the streets the minute we stood on Spanish soil.
written by  Kat and Ben on May 24, 2009 from Andorra la Vella, Andorra

Barcelona
Barcelona, Spain
going into spain from france - the back doorway
We left the car in an underground car park, made our way to an Irish bar on the Rambla to ask around for places to stay.
la rambla
It was a culture shock when the waitress lit up a cigarette in the bar, didn’t happen to be Irish and had no idea what a hostel was. Needless to say we ended up walking along the Rambla,
having some drinks, eating a really shit Chinese that Ben found a bit of china in and sleeping in the car outside the local University and just diagonal from the police station (something we found out in the morning).
Our next day in Barcelona had us walking all over the place to see as much of it as possible. We had found a few hostels the night before and had decided that they were too expensive for a night in semi-Comfort (€55 was the lowest we found)! So we went to the harbour and went to the beach and saw not only a naked man sunbathing,
Nudest Man on Beach
but another naked man riding a bike.
Naked cyclist
Interesting….
On the beach a man caught a Jellyfish in the sea and brought it ashore in a plastic bag.
Unfortunately Barcelona wasn’t really doing it for us, with the expectation of bright colours and festivities all day and night long, we faced extortionate prices for awful food, lots of tourists and drunks ready for a night out that wasn’t as buzzing as we’d hoped. Maybe it was the wrong time to go or the Rambla was just another ‘bar street’ like you get in Pathos (Cyprus), either way we decided to head on after another night of sleeping in the car.
written by  Kat and Ben on May 25, 2009 from Barcelona, Spain

The Villa
Mazarron, Spain
View for a mountain
We took the coastal and non-toll road south through Valencia, which reached highs of 30°C at one point. The timing was good and we decided to go surprise Kat’s parents and nan two days early at their villa in Mazarron, just outside of Murcia. After spotting their 4x4 in the car park in a nearby complex, we found Kat’s dad in one of the local bars who then complained about it being the first time since he’d gotten to Spain that he had a quiet drink on his own. Charming. After the delayed welcome and smile from him (and a swift pint) we drove back to the villa and prepared to surprise Kat’s mum and nan, only to have Louise say ‘I had a feeling you’d arrive today and had made up the bed ready’. Talking about pissing on our fire! Anyway we were happily received and unloaded the car of our rucksacks etc. before heading out for a decent meal.
Waiting for Bens little sister to arrive at airport San Javier
It was a day later when Ben’s youngest sister, Lizzie, flew into Murcia with her friend Tammy and picked up the car. Kat’s parents had said that they were welcome to stay a night or two before setting off on their road trip back to the UK (via Barcelona, Lyon, Amsterdam and Luxumbourg). After a swim, meal out and good nights sleep, Lizzie and Tammy said their goodbyes and set off. Since then, we’ve been busy swimming in the pool, playing cards and trying to work out fathomless crosswords – it’s a hard life. We went to the local market and tried our hand at haggling with much success and a few bargains. One purchase was a very much delayed Ben’s birthday present – a pair of sandals for travelling.
We’ve been lucky to get out and about despite not having Ben’s car as we’ve been taken to Aledo
(derelict fortress in the mountains); Bolnuevo (went swimming in the crashing sea and saw a dead dolphin in the rocks); Cartagena (saw the old amphitheatre and walked up to the castle that had loads of peacocks roaming the grounds which reminded me of Iona’s parents house); San Javier (a quaint beach with kite suffers) and other surrounding areas.
Nan (accompanied by dad) left on the 4th June, so saying goodbye to her was difficult but we’re pleased we spent more time with her, plus we’ve said we’ll all keep in touch. A couple of days on, Steve is back with us and we’ll be leaving here on the 10th June. We are being dropped off at Granada by Steve and Louise as it is enroute to their journey to Portugal. We’re hoping to meet up with Ben’s Spanish friend, Rosana, in the city and after speaking to Iona last night, have an idea of where’s good to go if we don’t jump on a bus that day to Algecias where we hope to get a ferry from to Morocco. Fingers crossed all goes well and we’ll be in touch with our next update….
written by  Kat and Ben on May 27, 2009 from Mazarron, Spain

Saying Goodbye And Saying Hello
Granada, Spain
Having just been dropped off by Kat's mum and dad at Granada bus station we just had enough time to wipe away the tears before meeting Ben's pen friend of over ten years, Rosana Gonzales. It was only a swift meeting as we only had 15 minutes to meet, greet and leave for our 1.30 bus to Algeciras. In the short time that we were in Granada we saw several homeless people,
a woman and a man leave a cafe without paying for their meal and watch the police question the supposed 'parking attendant' who previously charged Kat's dad one euro so the Honda would not get damaged. It's a shame we didn't spend longer in Granada as we heard great things about the place (thanks to Iona) and would have also been good to spend longer with Rosana.
written by  Kat and Ben on June 9, 2009 from Granada, Spain

Last stop in Europe
Algeciras, Spain
After a 4hour bus ride we arrived in Algeciras, where we planned to get a cheap ferry crossing over to Tangier. The hotel we stayed in was pretty basic and Kat even shared her bed with a cockroach which she discovered in the morning when it tried hitching a lift on her rucksack.
We went out for our last beer that night, where we met an old guy who thought women drinking beer on the streets was unusual and even weirder that Ben was drinking pints of Spanish beer and not a coffee. At least that’s what we think he was saying. A short walk away from the hotel was the ferry port and we had the choice of 32Euros for a 2hour crossing or 37Euros for half hour crossing, obviously Ben taking his farther for the sake of spending 8Euro more we decided to take the longer one as we are in no rush to get around the world.
The ferry was unfortunately delayed an hour and a half so we both got a little burnt sat on the deck waiting for the car's to board.
written by  Kat and Ben on June 10, 2009 from Algeciras, Spain

Welcome to Maroc
Tanger, Morocco
We stepped off the boat and were hustled in a matter of seconds. A taxi driver and an unofficial tour guide managed to “help” us get some money changed and after bundling us and bags into the car, set off for a 3minute journey (supposedly 5km walk) to a ‘cheap’ hotel. The funny thing about this was that as typical westerners, we got into the car and immediately went to put our seat belts on. “You’re in Morocco now! You don’t need to bother with that” the driver said turning round to us and not paying any attention of the people he was just about to run over. So we were stung by both 70dirhams (7euros) for the taxi which should have been 4dhs (40cents) and the guide which was to just get rid of him (and because we didn’t have anything smaller) 100dhs (10euros), lets just say we were very careful not to make the same mistakes again.
We found our feet here and got a few Arabic words under our belts, not to mention stumbling through with some French.
Our first night we stayed in the Medina, noisy and a little more than we wanted to pay for a room with a shower and no toilet so we moved out and into a hostel the next day to for 150dhs a night.
Although it was up about 10 flights of stairs and the hostel itself was located on a steep hill, we had a great view
and breeze from our large room with ensuite. The people were quite nice too and let us cook one night so we didn’t spend too much money. More money for spending as Kat bought a traditional Moroccan leather bag to replace her blue plastic one that had fallen apart 2years ago but was still “usable”. Karma came though the next day when she almost took her eye out with it somehow, but it was to be expected apparently as its leather.
The only real touristy thing we did was to go to the museè du Kasbah which we sort of stumbled across in the end, despite some little brat saying we were going the wrong way.
A wee word of warning for anyone who hasn’t been to Morocco yet, don’t ever believe it when someone says “that way is closed, you’re going the wrong way”, especially if you are visiting a point of interest. They’re lying! It’s not like us to be judgmental, it’s just unfortunate that we’ve been stupid enough to believe it several times and then having to put up with them trying to be your ‘unofficial tour guide’. Just go your own way. We found some great streets doing just that and although we got lost a few times, we enjoyed exploring somewhere new.
Getting back to the Kasbah, it was grand but not earth shatteringly amazing. We’re biased because we couldn’t exactly grasp the French, Spanish and Arabic writing explain the history of Tangier, but we got the gist. Something amazing did happen outside though… after days of trying to find an English guide book of morocco with no success whatsoever, we found one. Dated back to 1998, with such a faded front cover it’s a bit of a joke, the guy wanted 100dh for it so using our rusty haggling skills we got it for 80dh – rip off but it’s something.
At least now we had a little more of a clue as to where we were heading and some information about the town as a rough guide.
written by  Kat and Ben on June 11, 2009 from Tanger, Morocco

The Medina of all Medinas
Fes, Morocco
A seven and a half hour bus ride without air-conditioning or windows that opened, we finally made it to Fez. Dropped off at the old bus station just outside the medina, we began walking with our 20kg rucksacks through the small uneven streets. It just so happened to start raining the second we were in fez and it was so heavy at this point, we were soaked through to the bone and Ben’s farmer hat looked a little worse for wear.
our rucksacks, pale skin and Ben’s “look at me” hat were a dead giveaway that we were tourists and needed a place to stay. We might as well of had a neon sign above our heads saying “Cash Cows”, so we were jumped upon and couldn’t shake two of them off as we were shown into a Riad (house hotel) that wanted 300dh a night. We slyly asked the Moroccan chamber-maid who had an American English-speaking accent where we could stay for less than 200dh a night. He kindly said there’s a hostel in the new part of town and we’d need to get a petit taxi. Getting directions that its near McDonalds (that sells prawn burgers), we left the riad only to be led down some alley by one of the faux guides. Realizing quite suddenly it was a dead-end and he was knocking on someone’s front door, we swiftly and firmly said “no thanks” and spun around. It was a bit dodgy and a few steps behind us there was another Moroccan who also turned at the same time we did so we quickly made an exit from the busy medina, jumped into a petit taxi and said “to McDonalds si vous plat” feeling like a couple of chavs abroad.
Getting to the new town, we went for a wander and after mistaking a hospital for a hotel, Kat amazing found the Auberge de Jeune (youth hostel). It was 7.30pm by this time and we were wet, hungry, tired and felt grimy from the long journey. A private twin bed (shared bathroom) cost us 130dh and it included breakfast!!!
We also discovered that there were several randy tortoises in the large garden/courtyard area – very nice. The guy at reception seemed to be friendly and told us the rules of the place (doors locked at 3 till 6pm and 10pm to 8am). He also mentioned about the medina being very dangerous, easy to get lost in and has a load of pickpockets etc. He said that if we were approached to say that we’ve been in Fes for 10 days and that it was our 6th time to the medina. We had explained that we had been in Tangier and loved the medina there but his reply was that it is completely different and it’s a lot bigger. Because of this, he suggested that we hired an official guide from the tourist office which only cost 120dh and he could book it for us. Not bad we thought so we booked it for 11am the following day. Waking up to cold showers, pan aux chocolats, tea and coffee, we were ready to face the medina for the second time; packing our hats and loaded with our English speaking Moroccan tour guide we headed to the south of the medina.
The guide happened to be the same one two of the other hostel’s guests had the day before and had said how helpful and informative he was. Having to unexpectedly pay for the taxis there and back at roughly 12dhs a pop, we needed a cash point that took Kat’s card (Natwest are rubbish out here). On entering the medina from the south one of the first things we were presented with was the butchery and fish mongers section (unfortunately for Kat) outside one of the stalls was a camels head hanging from a butchers hook. Informing the guide that Kat’s a veggie, he said he guessed she wouldn’t want to see the shark meat at the adjacent stall. The guide led us through the maze and right into the different Souks (the souks are where all of the trades and crafts are handmade that make up the different sections of the medina). On route through the heart of the medina and heading to the north, we saw and stopped at several places including silver smiths
, the cotton weavers (where we found out you can get vegan silk from cactuses), tin
and blacksmiths
, coppersmiths
, bakeries where the local bread (hobz) is cooked and the guide explained how the Moroccan women take their dough there to be baked as its cheaper and in return they make more dough as payment for it. Other things we saw were the wood workers, apothecary,
rug and clothes makers who man-handled us to try on turbans,
the impressive stairs at the local library
and we also got to go into a house and out onto the terrace to get a panoramic view of the media which was impressive (although there were surprisingly a lot of satellite dishes).
One of the most memorable parts was seeing the infamous Fes tannery that hasn’t changed the way its worked for over 200 years.
It was one of the grown-up sons who told us about the history of the tannery and how it functions, saying that a piece of leather is ‘stripped’ in lime, then put into a natural dye for 7 days and is turned and massaged for about 3 hours each day.
The dyes used are: red (poppies), blue (indigo and the colour of Fes), orange (henna), green (mint and the colour of royalty), yellow (saffron and signifies wealth so a lot of men wear yellow leather shoes
) and we can’t remember the rest. It’s a grueling process and it’s quite shocking how much work is involved. The workers get 10dh per piece and can produce 10 in a day so they earn about 10euros a day. The man explained that they only use goat, sheep and cow leather in this tannery, but camel leather is often used in other tanneries but gives a really stiff leather. Kat almost died when she thought her bag could have been made of camel but the guy said it was goat which didn’t make it a great deal better. It was amusing to see the
American tourists on another balcony clutching their video cameras with one hand and a handful of mint with the other, as they were holding it to their noses to avoid the strong smell of animal hide and a stronger vision of the hard labour that went with it.
After a great 3 hours walk around in the 1000 acre medina with its 83000 stalls, 12000 streets and over 300 mosques, we had seen a lot and learnt many things including what ‘Balak!’ meant which is ‘move’ in Arabic (you hear it a lot) and we found out that there is no VAT inside the walls of the medina. Drawing to an end of the tour our guide turned from being mr nice guy to mr I want your money because you haven’t bought anything today and demanded 150dh rather than the previously agreed 120dh at the hostel. We were going to tip him before all this happened, but being shafted once Ben wasn’t going to let it happen again as he argued the price until the guide just took the money and left with no goodbye. Bit of a shit ending to a really good day but it did get better when we went back to the hostel and met a really lovely Argentinean woman called Natalia. She seemed a little stressed and explain her day which sounded really awful – from landing at the airport and being questioned on Swine flu; being stuck on a local bus for ages; getting lost trying to find the hostel; being followed by a pervert; finally arriving at the hostel for it to be locked and then coming back an hour early as she hadn’t changed the time on her watch, and finally checking in discovered she had booked a room for 4 people and wasn’t allowed to change it so had to pay for all 4 beds. She really had a day of it. When she was going through all of this we couldn’t help but laugh at it because it was so tragically comical, which was her in a nutshell. Another girl joined us called Emma who was from Cambridge and studying to be a vet in Liverpool, so we had a really good chat and Kat loved having the female company for a change. As the evening drew on, the receptionist left a bit early leaving the caretaker in charge who didn’t speak English. Shortly after at 9.45pm and as luck would have it there was a knock on the locked doors. A kiwi and a Korean guy were both stood on the doorstep and were being refused entry by the caretaker. The kiwi got agitated because he had already checked-in in the morning and all of his stuff was in his room and he had handed his key into reception (which was locked). Nobody spoke French let alone Arabic to explain this so the receptionist guy had to come back and sort it all out. In the meantime the Korean guy who didn’t speak French, Arabic, Spanish or English had the door slammed in his face by the caretaker. None of us didn’t really know what to do and were shocked that even the apparently friendly receptionist wouldn’t let the guy in saying that it was full (despite Natalia saying she had 3 spare beds). It’s a shame how the people can turn quite quickly on others out here, something which we’re beginning to learn.
In the morning we decided to explore the Jewish quarter of the Medina by our self, it was only a short walk away and we passed the palace of Mohammed V.
By this point we were all medina’d out and decided to chill for the afternoon at a local café in a park.
The following day we decided to say our goodbyes to our new friends with lots of lovely invites to their home countries (we will hopefully see you soon Natalia in Buenos Aires) and headed towards the bus station.
written by  Kat and Ben on June 15, 2009 from Fes, Morocco

Rabat
Rabat, Morocco
From where we left Fez, we went from the bus station that catered for the CTM style buses which means new and air-conditioned and a bit more expensive than the beat up local buses. It only took us three hours to get to Rabat's Gare Routier (bus station), where we arrived not knowing where we were and with no money on us. This was becoming a recurring trend for us, which we really had to avoid for the next time we traveled as it was difficult to explain to a taxi driver where we wanted to go (an Auberge De Jeune recommended to us) via a bank and not get ripped off in the process. We got around his original quote of 50dirhams by demanding that he put the meter on, which is something they conveniently turn off and say is broken. It only turned out to be 18dirhams and we were happy to have found the place that was just outside the medina wall and down the road from the city centre.
The hostel was the same price as Fez but there were no private rooms, just male and female dorms (Kat had discover bed bugs in one of the beds she slept in so wasn’t too taken with the place at first). We ended up staying in Rabat for about a week in total and did so much in the time we were there, including having a little haircut session one day that consisted of Kat going crazy with the scissors and not only cutting all of her hair off
, took the blades to Ben’s bushy beard
.
We met Oli at the hostel and instantly became friends on the first day; there he took us to an English bookshop that he found where we brought a Rough Guide book for Africa for 135Dirhams. On the way back from the bookshop some little boy struck Kat’s arm with his fist for no reason whatsoever, in shock she just turned round and stared at the little shit whom was walking with his parents who knew what he’d done yet didn’t do anything in response except look at Kat’s gawping stare.
At the hostel we also met a man called Fabien. The crazy Frenchman took a little longer as at first we thought he was constantly drunk and the language was a barrier, but that didn't last long as we discovered he just looked squiffy in the mornings and the reason for lying down a lot was because of his bad back.
The touristy site-seeing we did in Rabat was visit the Royal Palace which was a mission to get to and although was free to enter, we had to go through a police check-point where they photocopied our passports. The palace was built in 1864 and has a glazed green tiled roof; we have found that most of the royal buildings have the green roofs, which we discovered in Fez is the colour of royalty. We sat down in the grounds for a while taking it all in and snapping away at the grand entrance of the palace.
On one of our walks around the riverside of the medina we were both attacked by henna ladies, Kat having her name and flowers doodels all over her left hand and up her arm and Ben having a manly scorpion (not by his choice), his name and for some reason a love heart on his arm. Despite our protests and saying we really didn't have much money on us, the two women having finished their speedily doodling asked or rather, demanded 100dirhams.
Even though they had said previously 'any price you like' and the fact that Ben didn't want a henna we gave them 20d as it was all that we had. They then wanted 20each or Euros to the value at which point Ben was getting agitated and said sternly no and pulled Kat away and started to walk off with them shouting in the background. The second set of henna ladies we came across in Rabat were a few days later and again we firmly said we didn't want one and had no money, but for some reason Kat's arm was tugged from her socket and saying it was a gift from them as they hennaed her name in Arabic up her arm. Ben again was offered the scorpion but almost ran away in protest. Afterwards yet again they demanded money and we said we thought it was free as it was a gift and we walked away.
Being at the hostel for a week we got to know the staff pretty well. We frequently shared our food with them and they loved the fresh melons we kept buying, one of their friends shared his red wine with us one evening which was a real treat. The wine gave us an idea for a wine and cheese night, which ended up to be just Brie in Flat breads and olives from the market for lunch one day; it was so really scrummy and the Brie was quite expensive but worth every penny. As we got to know the staff we thought we could trust them all until the moody breakfast lady asked to borrow our sun cream. We thought this was a little odd, but being English and naive we lent it to her. Rather than putting some on her face there and then, she took the bottle away with her and we heard in the distance of what sounded like the women transferring our sun cream into another bottle. Kat went of into the female toilets to investigate, but didn’t see anything as the moody cow went from the toilets to the reception. Ben got frustrated and went to the reception to ask for the sun cream back and catching her in the act with sun cream all over her hands and clothes, the woman got angry and held the sun cream to her chest in which Ben just snatched it back from her saying NO! loudly.
After the sun cream instant Ben stopped saying thank you to her for breakfast and her moody attitude didn’t alter, so we weren’t expecting an apology from her. We all thought her attitude was quite humorous in the end, especially when Kat, Oli and Fabien got their own back and helped themselves to extra coffee one morning which they had to deny like naughty children when she questioned them about entering her kitchen. She really wasn’t happy as it meant she had to make more coffee for some of the other guests who arrived later.
The other site-seeing thing we did in Rabat was walk to Tour Hassan that is a huge Kasbah where next to it lays the ruin of the second largest mosque in the Islamic world. The mosque was originally commissioned by the founder of Rabat, Abou Youssef Yaacoub el-Mansour, at the end of the 12th Century and had died 4 years after the building had begun and when the work was stopped it gradually fell into ruin, which was accelerated by a major earthquake in 1755.
Next to the ruined Mosque stands the Mausoleum of Mohammed V. where we wondered round trying to escape out of the sun whilst taking lots of the pictures of the Tour building.
Oli had heard that Morocco were playing Togo in a football match at the Rabat stadium which wasn't far away and tickets were bound to be cheap so we went along for the outing with him and Fabien. On arrival at the grounds there seemed to be a lot of army and police personnel who all mentioned to us to be extra careful with our bags and there were a lot of pickpockets. Due to Oli’s good, but broken French, he had managed to get the times mixed up and we had arrived 4 hours early. The tickets cost 30Dirhams (3Pounds), we started to get a bit peckish and Oli, along with Hamed (a Moroccan man from Casablanca who we met outside the stadiums grounds, and thought Ben looked like Brad Pitt which gave us all a laugh), went to a shop nearby to get supplies.
Hamed was a kind man and helped us a lot as it appeared he is a regular at the big football matches and he showed us the best and safest places to sit (up high and in the shade wherever possible). At this point just before the match started Emma had called us and Ben got to speak with Heather who told us that she had been in the local newspaper; Ben couldn’t hear very well because the boys were all cheering and shouting in the background in excitement and wanting to sound like the hooligans they are.
The match and atmosphere reminded Kat of the time when her and her sister (Georgina) took their dad to see a match one Father’s Day years ago to see Tottenham Hotspur play a friendly with Reading… Hamed sat with us and he was very passionate about his team, which was funny to watch when there was a near goal because he jumped up out of his seat screaming as if he'd sat on hot coals.
Fabien was cheering for the underdogs, Togo, and we stuck with Morocco (for they were the better players and we had to be loyal to the country we resided in).
After the football which ended in 0-0, Oli and Fabien went to an African music concert that same night which was on for 3days over the weekend, whilst we were pretty tired after the long day and shared a taxi back to the centre of Rabat with Hamed.
There were two music concerts on that weekend and we managed to get to both of them. The first was on the coast and was a French festival to celebrate the first day of summer and had a selection of local big bands, our favourite being a hip hop group called Fez City Clan
where one of the main rappers was a 13 year old boy - amazing. Whilst they were playing a group of guys next to us started to body pop and break dance to the music, which was really good and reminded of us of some of the nights out in Bristol. We have a few videos but have no idea if we can post them on here, we might try and put them on Facebook in the meantime.
The second concert was a variety of African music that ranged from acoustic guitars to loud yelping. We ate toasted corn on the cobs and homemade crisps that were sooo salty. Unfortunately we didn't stay that long at this one as we both had delicate stomachs and
we didn't enjoy some of the music as much as we had on the other night, however it was very different and on one of the performances, the dancing was crazy.
The women were going nuts on stage, scantily clad and thrusting parts of their body all over the shop. It gave us the impression that the women in Africa are much more sexually liberated then the ones we saw in Morocco, which was quite refreshing really,
From the moment we became friends with Fabien, he quickly became a legend in the boy's eyes as the 42yr old man seemed to have a girl in every port so to speak. He was visiting one of his girlfriends, Sana who lives in Sale, whilst he was in Morocco. She's from a traditional Muslim family so her relationship with him was a secret. It was lovely to get to know her in the little time we spent with her as she seemed so friendly and loved Fabien to pieces. One night the 4 of us went out for a very rare beer and stumbled through a broken French and English conversation which was good fun. It is illegal to drink in public outside an establishment here so we were sat amongst the prostitutes, dodgy police officers and other punters. It was because of this, photos inside the place were strictly a no no. We drank 2 types of beer, we can't remember the first it was that good but the second was called 'special' which was 5.5%, cost 15d a bottle and what everyone in the bar was drinking. We were a little merry after the 2 rounds and had to go back to the hostel that night and cook for 8 people. Oli’s friend Matt arrived that day for the festival in Essouara along with 2 new guys who they got speaking to, Kory the Canadian and Eddie the American who had grown up in Kenya. Both were traveling through to Senegal and like ourselves needed to get the Mauritania visa from Rabat.
Getting our first visas was like taking an exam that you hadn’t revised for. We didn’t complete the form fully because it was all in French and our French is pretty bad; Oli helped us a little but we didn’t want to lean on him too much as we saw he was struggling as well. We paid 680d for the two and had to wait till the following day to find out the result, worried that we would be rejected and wondered if that was the case would we get our money back… Luckily we passed first time and got the 30day transit visa for Mauritania.
Whilst in Rabat we also went to get a Nigerian visa, but after walking an hour there the receptionist said they only issue visas for Moroccan residents. On the way back we stopped at an authentic Italian restaurant which to Ben’s surprise sold Calzone that he regretted a little later after he wolfed it all down. We had olives and bread to start which meant the main was a little struggle even though Ben ate all of his and some of Kat’s; we took 3 slices with us and being all pizzed out gave them some homeless men sat in the shade near the Medina.
On the last day in Rabat we went to a huge beach near Sale in the early morning that Fabien had found earlier in the week; it was about 45mins away on the bus so Oli, Fabien, Kory, Matt and ourselves boarded the bus and headed to the coast where Sana would meet us. On the bus we got chatting to a Moroccan who was a Nuclear scientist at the Rabat research facility and was so passionate about his work, he got brochures out and started explaining to us about the machinery he works with and the intricate details of his profession. He offered to show us around his work but we had to decline as we wouldn’t be in the area much longer. We imagine it would have been interesting, but it was way over our heads.
We had to walk a fair way to the beach which was busy and full of people asking us if we wanted to buy things, we were asked 8 times to see if we wanted parasols in the 100yards walk from the start of the beach to the sea! Fabien had mentioned it was a swimming beach, but the sea had a really strong undercurrent and had waves you could easily surf on (if we could surf). We did little sun bathing as it was hot and took it in turns to look after the bags whilst we swam.
It was there where we said our goodbyes to Fabien and Sana before returning to the Mauritanian embassy to collect our visas and then said goodbye to Oli, Kory and Matt once we had exchanged contact addresses etc. The two of us returned to the hostel to collect bags and with a little help from the woman in charge, we got on the right bus towards the gare routerier for our onward travel to Marrakech.
written by  Kat and Ben on June 18, 2009 from Rabat, Morocco

Tourist Central
Marrakech, Morocco
best photo ever
We are slowly getting used to the bus rides this time it was a 5hour ride to the outskirts of Marrakesh. We managed to get some sleep so on arrival at 2am we were awake when we were pounced on yet again by ticket touts and taxi drivers trying to take our luggage to their mode of transport. We got our stuff together and started walking towards the centre ville. We passed a closed supermarket and in the distance saw the blue neon sign of a hotel where the security guard on duty called the receptionist down who took half an hour so we waited and talked to the guard. Unfortunately the hotel ended up being far too expensive but they did suggest a local cheap one and they hailed down a cab gave directions to the driver and then asked us how much? We didn't know what they were saying at first, how could we know how far it was or the rates out here?! So the driver said 3euros and Kat immediately haggled it to 2,not wanting to have a repeat of the tangier taxi ride. The taxi ride was fairly long and we think we got the better deal considering the time as well. When we got out and started walking across the square in the direction pointed out we were Lucky to bump into 3 English speaking people so we kindly asked if they knew the location of the cheap hotel. The girl in the group who was from Canada said we could stay in the one she was in and showed us her key. It was 3am at this point and the taxi driver was waiting to make sure we were safe which was nice so Ben gave him the thumbs up and we followed the Canadian, Moroccan and a Korean. They were very helpful and the Moroccan gave us a list of all the good places to visit. Kat kept being shushed by the receptionist as it was 3 in the morning so we handed our passport details over, said our goodnights and headed upstairs to bed.
The next morning well early afternoon we woke up and went for a stroll around the town and medina on exiting our hotel we came straight out onto the 'Place Jemaa El Fna' square we walked though the night before was now alive with people jam packed with juice stalls, shops, snake charmers, henna ladies, ill treated baby monkeys, thousands of western tourists and Moroccan musicians playing bongos.
The main snake charmer stand had a big group of people around it so we had a look to see what the attraction was. As we got closer we saw the Cobras being really provoked to keep them in the attack pose and really long grass looking snakes being hung around the less morale tourists, one struck one of the handlers who threw it on the floor, picked it up and threw it down again which wasn't so pleasant to see. Another snake made a quick slither for freedom which panicked the crowed to jump back gasping. At this point we were both upset and sick of how the animals were treated and the fact a snake charmer was heading straight for Ben’s neck with the biggest snake we'd ever seen in the flesh we decided to move on. Kat took a sneaky photo which was then challenged for ten dirham’s, we gave them one but regret taking it as its encouraging the spectacle.
On the way out of the square we headed towards the 'La Koutoubia', the biggest mosque in the Marrakesh medina. We had past this in the night and to be honest it looks a lot better all lit up in lights than when it does during the day. On the way, we passed a small park that was completely surrounded by horse and carts doing tours of the city, the horses in Marrakesh all looked bad with malnutrition, off the beaten track on our long walk we saw the working horses carrying food stock who were so dehydrated their tongues hung out of their lopsided mouths all shriveled up. We also got very lost and some kind children helped us find the main road. The boy who helped us most didn't ask or beg for money so we gave him a little, we normally give pens, food, or what’s left in our water bottle as we really don't agree with giving money to child beggars-you never know who it goes to.
In the heart of the souks we found a little shop that sold 'silver' rings for Kat’s wedding finger, (don't panic it's just to help prevent all the perverts letching on her and to give Ben more bartering leverage. Plus it’s far more expectable in Muslim countries for sharing hotel rooms etc.) We haggled from 80dirhams down to 30dirhams having a strong suspicion it wasn't silver. 3pounds for a band was still extortionate but will serve a good purpose.
On getting lost the second time we stumbled across the 'Palais Bahia', one of the beauties that the Moroccan guy last night pointed out to us. He was certainly right and Kat got her camera out and snapped away at the buildings high walls and beautifully crafted ceilings, Ben got a bit jealous with all the people with their SLR'S missing his canon. Still being lost we jumped in a taxi and asked the nice driver to take us to a point on the map that we knew, on departing the taxi the meter said 3dirhams he demanded 6 claiming something about a minimum payment we got out the taxi quickly after paying 5 and the driver was furious over 1dirham about 7pence but we ran for it well walked away quickly before he could think about running us over.
After spending far too long in the sun and getting lost 3times Ben had a little sleep whilst Kat had some peace to write her journal, it was near sunset when we were ready to go out. So we got our sleepy self’s up and went to find the restaurant we spotted earlier. When we hit the square it was yet again completely different, replacing the snakes and market stalls stood large industrial sized canteens, all serving different styles of Moroccan food.
We walked around them all first and settled on Jamie Oliver’s number 10, all the canteens had numbers with several touts trying to sell their menus. On seeing us a few started talking in London slang (lovely jubly, Sainsbury’s taste the difference veg, air conditioning 'with a menu waved in our faces', and other funny typical English sayings) Jamie Oliver’s mum owed the place where we sat. Her face proudly stamped on the menu, shame she had been hit by an ugly bat but her stern look said keep away from the money as she was the cash register. Being white yet again we got ripped off, Ben was having none of it this time and questioned why the bill was so high. They had over charged 20dirhams for our meals and tried to charge us for the 'free' bread served while we waited. We think they only gave in and paid up because Ben bravely stood right in the way off big momma and the incoming cash from the waiters.
Before we went for dinner we paid a high price for drinks and for a really high view on a rooftop terrace over looking the square. The sun had just gone down by the time we got to the terrace and had left a shepherd's delight sky. The view was amazing and this is definitely a must do if you visit, although it's tourist central we loved the views and Ben also loved seeing all the really really expensive slrs at work (Adam would have died and Kat thinks both are sad buggers).
Our colorful evening came to an end as we headed back to our hotel to prepare for leaving Marrakesh the following morning. Seeing the old men outside the hotel playing checkers with water bottle tops made Ben start collecting them.
written by  Kat and Ben on June 24, 2009 from Marrakech, Morocco

Ouarzazate and the desert
Ouarzazat, Morocco
We arrived here after a 5 and a half hour bus ride through the atlas mountain region on such windy roads Kat was feeling really sick.
It didn't help that someone was sick inside the bus or when an old man got on the bus and started perving on Kat. So much so that even after her telling him off and putting a wrap over her she still had to move to other seat. God help him if he followed or she'd have definitely lost it like she did when we eventually got off the bus in the sleepy town and the pervert tried approaching her to which she just shouted 'Balack!' at him in Arabic to move out the way. Things didn't cheer up when we realised we had no money and no idea where we were. We headed for a western union shop that changes money to get directions to a bank and the centre.
Before we'd set foot in the door we were approached by a tall man who was trying to get us to stay in his 'hotel' and he'd take us in his 4x4. We're sure he was telling the truth but it was too risky and the guy was way too pushy so we got his hotel details and managed to luckily get rid of him. The kind Moroccan in the shop was really helpful and gave us the directions.
The bank didn't turn out to be that far away and a hotel was right next door. Kat had been saying how much she'd love to stay somewhere with a pool. This place turned out to be amazing. It’s called la gazelle hotel and was ironically in our ancient guide book so it’s been in business for a while.
We splashed out. The standard room with double and single bed with bathroom is 159dh and for the added luxury of air con was 200dh, we paid the extra 4euro's. Not only was there hot water, they had a pool and restaurant on the premises. We didn't eat there but made full use of the pool and hot water in the 3 days we were there.
After dumping our bags and had a splash around in the pool, Ben scaring the kids in his Speedos, we got ready to have a walk around the small town and find a place to eat. One place we looked in a guy stopped us and said he'd seen us at Marrakesh bus station that morning. He had come in a car and I asked why he didn't give us a lift. He seemed friendly though and told us of the places we should visit whilst in town.
The next day we headed out to do just that and started walking to the Kasbah. The map the hotel gave us was dated and not to scale so it seemed a lot further, especially as we kept being stopped by people along the way. One guy showed us in his shop and we were just sat talking to him as he showed us the shop items he gets from the desert to sell, we were interrupted as Kat’s mum called. We apologised and left. It was a great catch up and it made Kat sad to hear her mum say she missed her. After being cut off by sim 4 travel that change tariffs without informing their customers thus us being charged for the call and running out of credit, we continued walking only to be stopped again about 20yards up the road. The man's name was Abdul and besides running a shop and 4x4 and camel excursions to the desert, he told us that his family appeared in the BBC Michael Palin documentary about around the world in 80 days. Finally saying goodbye and getting his business card we headed further down the road, this time getting not much further when we were stopped for a third time! This time however the man asked if Kat would write a letter for him. We went into his tiny shop and he dictated whilst she wrote. His name was Mohammed and as a thank you he made us nana tea which is a sugary tea with mint leaves in, the tea is poured from a great height 3 times before serving to give it lots of air adding to the taste. We got talking and he invited us to one of his sister's weddings that were taking place in 2weeks in the desert. We had to decline due to getting to Mauritania before our transit visa expired, but were touched by the offer. It was when we were talking about life in the desert did we find out that the sister getting hitched was only 12years old! Kat's still in shock now just thinking about it.
After about an hour there we finally made it to the famous Kasbah, we think was an old historic fortress over looking the sea. We have to say think because we never made it in. Walking around the huge walls we were approached by a little girl who kept asking for money but then started making kissing noises and gesturing to Ben. Goodness knows what she meant but it made us speed up our walking until she got tired of following us.
Around the corner from the weird kissing girl we stumbled across 'le musee du cinema' Ben managed to persuade the ticket attendant that we were English students and that we left our student ID cards back home so we got in half price.
It's a really interesting walk around seeing all the old sets that had been used in religious films shot here and the many blockbusters filmed in the surrounding desert such as Gladiator, Sahara, The Hills Have Eyes, Lawrence of Arabia plus many more.
About halfway round the museum a security guard unlocked a room for us to look around. On entering the huge room we were amazed to see all the old film equipment from cameras to different lenses from all ages, set and sound equipment and reels of film hanging out of really strange and dated articles, we took a lot of pictures in the Aladdin’s cave.
After walking around for hours and feeling exhausted we stopped at the local cafe over the road for some Fanta lemon and a bite to eat before heading back into town on the bus.
Recovering from our long afternoon in the sun with a slash in the pool a quick shower and little snooze we headed back out to the first shop we had entered because our time was cut short from the phone call and that Kat had seen an amazing golden compass made from brass for reading the stars to navigate through the Sahara desert, we had a price in mind and said we wouldn't go over it. Unfortunately we had extremely underestimated how much the compass was worth but we drank green tea infused in elk and talked for ages it seemed about life and foods. Hassan invited us to eat lunch with him and his family the following day, to see how a tagine is prepared to which we accepted.
The next day after packing our sacks up with all the clean clothes we had managed to wash and dry in the hotel room during our stay we left our bags at reception as our bus was due to leave a 9pm we heading to Hassan’s shop for lunch with his family, while the tagine was slow cooking Hassan showed us around the shop and all the pretty things his family bring from a town in the desert called m'hamid. M'hamid is where the river has been Dammed and is the last town south with a river, it's apparently a very important and religious town. Getting back to the sparkleys, Kat had seen a bangle that was beautiful and also a pendant Ben could see this tagine costing more than the bread and biscuits we had brought as a thank you for him. Having not nearly enough for the compass 200 euro's, Kat fell in love with the bangle, it was a real shame that although it was really beautiful Ben had pointed out some major flaws in the practicality of it. It was rather thin and would have just bent out of shape really easy in our luggage and Hassan had accidentally broken it when sizing it to Kat’s wrists.
If ever we go back to Ouarzazate we will get one and maybe the compass. The pendant however Ben could find no faults and although Hassan wanted to sell both as a pair we settled for a price for the pendant alone, slightly higher than we wanted or should have paid but Ben felt a little guilty about the bracelet and said it would be part birthday present….
At this point lunch was served and we ate traditionally with just our hands and bread. It was a bull tagine and Kat shifted through and ate a little of the veg (did you know they don't eat the middle of the carrot in morocco) we spent ages and talked asked loads of questions and had been sung to with bongos by his younger cousin Mohamed, they told us how a few days ago they had met a Spanish boy with blue hair who was travelling the same way we were and they told us his story how he was in a wheelchair and travels around the world with no money. We thought they must have been mistaken when they said no money but we looked impressed and we think were starting to outstay our welcome.
One of the men said he would help us buy the tagine spices in the local market, we left the stall after saying our good byes and followed the man to the spices he was proud to show us them all and explained what most were and how the were used. We brought the head of shop spice which contains 45 different herbs and spices which are good for the heart, blood, and cancer amongst other things.
On our way back to collect our bags and to use the hotels toilet and courtyard to chill we past a westerner in a wheel chair with blue hair, Kat wasn't sure if it was the same boy Hassan had described but Ben pointed out how many blue haired wheel chair bound people could there be in Ouarzazate bearing in mind this is the only other westerner we had seen in the small town, so we approached him to say hello 'hablo anglais' and that Hassan said to pass on his regards if we saw him. After introducing ourselves, Albert explained how he has traveled the world from the age of 14 with no money and by showing card tricks to people for money to eat etc. We explained we were leaving to go to a place on the coast called tan-tan and he asked if he could join us. We think he thought we were driving, when we said the bus was 200dirhams each he said he would try to blag it some how 'buy two get one free' we arranged to meet up at 7pm which would give us 2hours to walk to the station and buy tickets.
Bad news the bus was full and we had been told the day before there was only one bus a day from Ouarzazate to Tan-Tan we found a place to sit and put our bags down. Not knowing what to do Ben went of to talk to the ticket touts, he found out there were two other busses one and 10.30 and one at 3am the bus at 10.30 had one change in Agadir and the 3am bus was direct. We didn't buy tickets because of Albert, we thought it best to ask the driver for the 3for2 deal, and we sat and waited in the depot for ages until the bus came. It was filling up quick as Kat and Albert went off to barter Albert free passage. by that time the bus was full, we decided as we couldn't miss the 3am bus to buy two tickets and try to get him on the last bus some how. After dinner Albert went to sleep under a tree and we watched his bag and played cards while we waited and waited. By 2.30 we were both really tired and the bus had started boarding Ben went to wake Albert, Kat stayed on bag duty. We spoke to the bus conductor and explained that we had only enough money for 2 tickets and that in the UK disabled people travel free of charge but this didn't work. Ben got on board to bagsie some seats while Kat and Albert tried to bend some ones arm. The bus started to leave and the conductor was now saying the bus was full and that Albert could not join us Kat came to sit in the reserved seats and the bus was half empty. We felt sorry for Albert but Ben said he had been travelling for 4 years sleeping rough and he should be ok, this made Kat feel slightly less guilty but still worried.
Our first night bus journey.... It left at 3am half empty and we sat on separate seats to sleep, but with frequent stops it filled up quickly we woke up with people trying to sit on our feet so Ben asked people to move so we were next to each other Kat against the window and Ben against some ones bottom the bus was packed and more people kept getting on. In the morning Kat let a little girl sit on her seat while Kat sat on Ben’s lap in the desert heat we think the girls mum saw Ben’s leg getting pin's and needles and told the girl to give the seat back. Kat then invited the girl’s younger sister to sit on her lap for part of the journey rather than on the cramped floor thus allowing her to sleep in between staring and laughing at Kat waving her fan. Kat noticed the girl’s hair had been tied up with bits of old string so Kat asked the girl’s mother if we could give them a hair tie each. The girls loved the present and one put hers in straight away. The journey in whole took just under 14 hours with one half hour stop but the views over the Atlas Mountains were spectacular.
written by  Kat and Ben on June 26, 2009 from Ouarzazat, Morocco

ID Check Plz
Tan-Tan, Morocco
We got to Tan-Tan after a long and sweaty journey only to discover that the town was fairly small with a lot of police. We were stopped 3 times in the space of an hour and asked for ID and how long we were staying. We laughed off their suspicious looks and told them we were looking for a cheap place to stay for a day or two. After a look around a few places, Kat was gagging for a shower so we opted for hotel number 3 for 90dirhams a night. We were done. Despite checking the place out, we didn't realise there was one filthy squatting loo and one grimy bath/shower for the whole of the hotel. Desperate for both, Kat not only got stage freight and couldn't go for a number 2, she had to get Ben to help her shower for the support was broken and the whole thing leaked, covering the entire floor with water about an inch deep. It was a flip flops jobby anyway. Deciding not to stay another night, we'd made sure not to unpack too much.
Our next Mission was to search for a bank that again took Kat’s card, so we traipsed all over the town and finally found one only to discover a much shorter way back. Time flew by and before we knew it we were heading for bed, not even bothering to have dinner.
written by  Kat and Ben on June 27, 2009 from Tan-Tan, Morocco

Our First HitchHiking Experience
Tan-Tan Plage, Morocco
We left around 10 the next morning and walked to the end of the high street to the grand taxi stand. It was a new experience for us and a young guy called Hussin helped us as he was heading the same way. 3 more men joined us and the 7 of us, including the driver, crammed into the 5 seater taxi - 3 in the front and 4 in the back. It cost 10dirhams each to go the 25km so it wasn't bad and it was quicker than a bus. Hussin, a student in Tan-Tan and from Ouarzazate, asked if we were looking for a hotel and we said that it depended on the prices, so he took us to a place he knew on the sea front.
The place was great and 150d a night was reasonable for room and location. After saying bye to Hussin and thanking him loads for his kindness as he didn't ask for anything in return which is rare, we went to our room to change into our cozies. After finally eating for the first time in ages, we went for a walk along the beach in search for some American tourists we heard were staying at the hotel and driving to Mauritania. Ok an ulterior motive, but our luck was down as we couldn't see any white people and some little shit decided to throw wet sand at us when we walked past. Deciding to settle, the friendly and fairly attractive male hotel receptionist got a parasol for us and we sat enjoying the sea air and view. Bothered only slightly by some kid who looked strangely like Joe Allen wanting to take Kat into the sea and he could not get the message that we didn't actually understand French that well. We did manage to go for a dip though and with Kat wearing Ben's t-shirt over her swimsuit, it left him with just his lycra Speedo shorts to run to the shore in. This was hysterical, not only for how naked he looked compared to everyone else on the beach but his run that went with it. He half dragged Kat down the hill with him but she had to stop for laughing too hard.
Once calling it a day we cleaned ourselves up and went to look for a place to eat. After walking around the town in a large circle for a while, it was 9pm when we found somewhere, only a few doors away from our hotel which we had previously passed, still open and serving food. The cook came out and asked what we wanted to eat we explained that we didn't eat meat or fish and he offered to cook a vegetable tagine, which turned out to be the best veggie tajine we had yet tried. The following day we walked a fair way with our bags out of the little settlement and to the main road junction where the road turned off to the south. Ben thought it would be a good place to hitch-hike from as we sat at the base of a monument, along with a beautiful puppy (which we fed and watered and Kat wanted to take with her). We'd only waited 20 minutes before we got a suitable lift. The driver's name was Mustafa and was heading to Daklha, the southern part of the Western Sahara just before you get into Mauritania. Explaining we had little money, he agreed a price of 50D so we boarded his vehicle which was a huge 40ft lorry 'camion' and sat on the bed in the back of the cabin. Two more men were traveling with him, Hassain and Mohammed.
After about an hour we shared our food and drinks with Mustafa and the other two men who were also traveling to Daklha; trying to converse with them in French whilst Mustafa was sharing a 'Moroccan cigarette' with Hassain, we were wondering how the journey ahead will go. It was not long after when we were starting to relax there was a sudden BANG!
A tyre blew and Mustafa struggled hard with the steering wheel to keep the truck on the road, but for all his strength he failed and we left the tarmac now going over very rough desert terrain with huge rocks troughs and lots of bumps.
There were three of us on the bed and were thrown around like rag dolls. Kat was in the middle with nothing to hold onto so Ben made a grab for one of her legs that was up in the air. During the commotion our 5litre bottle of water fell down from the seat and smashed a glass laid out on a tea set next to the large gas canister. With only a few bumps to our bodies we luckily came to a stop just before a huge dip in the rocky roadside. Mustafa checked to make sure everyone was still alive and not injured then went to see what the damage was. We all got out to see if we could help and to gather the broken bits of debris off of the road.
The truck looked a mess, it was the front passenger tyre that had had it. Shredded to pieces, most of the fiberglass wheel arch missing, the first step to the cabin gone plus damage to the petrol tank and clutch which we found out later on.
It was a big problem and Mustafa only had spares for the trailer and back wheels of the body of the truck.
So not only did we have to wait for someone to bring a spare, the bumpy terrain meant that there was not enough room for the bottle jacks. Luckily he had two jacks and he donned his overalls and starting jacking up the other side and moving the jacks in each time towards the damaged side as they slowly sank into the soft ground.
All the time spirits were high despite our continuous bad luck. We'd even taught them the card game 'Beat Your Neighbour' to pass the time and they showed us the popular card game in Morocco which is basically Rummy but with 13 cards.
Mustafa got a lift into Tan Tan to look for a part and get food for us, returning at about 9pm that evening. Hobbs and laughing cow cheese with a sugared milky yoghurt drink served in a big bowl that Kat managed to spill all down herself. Feeling like we were an added hassle for them by being there even though they never made us feel unwelcome, we felt worse when she got the milk everywhere. Changing her clothes out in the windy night, we'd planned to sleep in the tent, but as Mustafa was heading to a larger town for other parts and wouldn't return till the next day, he insisted we sleep in the camion. We were going to decline but as he said something about scorpions Ben jumped at the offer and thanked him. It was so hot and stuffy sleeping in there, never did Kat think that a one point she'd be sleeping with 3 men.
It was another waiting game the next day and we were starving by the time Mustafa returned with reinforcements. The food he brought though was freshly fried fish and hobbs. Without wanting to seem rude as he had got it for the 4 of us, we both ate some of the fish. Although they knew Kat was a vegetarian they couldn't understand her not whole heartedly digging into the fish and instead laughed at her when she took pictures of the fishes teeth! Yes teeth!
It tasted like a meaty fish and nobody knew the name of it. Picking the meat off the bone, Ben was careful not to choke and die as his mother apparently told when he was a boy but he enjoyed it nonetheless. It wasn't long after when more problems were found with the truck and more parts were needed. One of the many lorries that stopped and offered help turned out to be one of Mustafa's friends, Aziz. He was a big man who loved his music and loved counting his money. We found out that he was heading to Nouakchott, the capital of Mauritania, so Mustafa asked him to take us as the truck was kaput and we also were going there. He agreed to take us as and also drop Mustafa off of at Laayoune.
written by  Kat and Ben on June 28, 2009 from Tan-Tan Plage, Morocco

Just a stop over
Laayoune, Western Sahara
When we dropped him off at the garage in Laayoune we had decided to give him a pack of our playing cards with 50d and note saying shukran (thank you in Arabic) tucked away in it. He refused at first but we had insisted because although he hadn't taken us very far, he hadn't asked for anything and was really kind to us. Once he went we drove off to a quiet street and parked up for the night.
Aziz was luckily in convoy with another lorry, which was driven by a lovely little man called Habib. This meant that we could sleep in the trucks but unfortunately not the same one. Aziz told Ben to go to Habib's truck and that was it. We were both pretty weary about leaving the other alone especially when Kat had to be lifted up into the top bunk by the big guy and be kissed on the cheek by him as a goodnight gesture. Ben didn't sleep that well for fearing the worst whilst Kat slept like a log with the long day having taken its toll on her. Both looking a bit disheveled by morning as we were reunited and set off for our journey to Daklha.
written by  Kat and Ben on June 30, 2009 from Laayoune, Western Sahara

Needing the Loo
Ad Dakhla, Western Sahara
There were quite a few police check points through the Western Sahara, at one of them Aziz was given a piece of paper with a warning on. We couldn't read entirely what it said but we think it was to do with his tachometer in that he's driven over the legal amount of miles because he had to hand it over to them. When asked however he said it was because of us and that it's a problem for him to be carrying tourists. Despite us saying that we can get off and it's not a problem if he can't take us, he insisted that we continued to travel with him. So we headed for Dakhla, 495km away. Leaving Laayoune at 6.30am we forget what time we arrived but once in Dakhla we had food with Aziz and Habib and managed to pay for us all as a thank you for no price was asked or offered for taking us to Nouakchott. Aziz saying they were off to shower etc and we had 2hours to look around Dakhla we made our way along the coast as Kat started to feel the effects of not going to the loo properly for a few days. This became a number one priority as we found an expensive hotel and ordered drinks in the bar whilst she swiftly pegged it for the loo. Ben shouting after her be quick as he also needed to go. After a much needed sit down clean loo break and drink by the sea, we got the bill which made Ben want to go for another shit again in their loo to make it worthwhile.
It cost 50d 3times more than what it should have cost for 2 soft drinks which wasn't breaking the bank but still made Ben tighten his purse strings and not leave a tip.
We hadn't much more time before we had to meet the others back at the lorries so we returned a little early not wanting to keep them waiting just in case they were already there. As it turned out, we were waiting a lot more than anticipated because when Aziz returned, he slept for over an hour on the bottom bunk whilst we sat in the driver and passenger seats twiddling our thumbs and trying to be quiet. We were pretty confused and a little pissed off that we could have been out all this time but he had wanted us back. A bit odd and even more so when he finally woke up and started the engine and drove 50yards then parked outside a cafe. Talk about lazy.
We sat and had drinks by the sea, which was a lot cheaper than our round in the last place. However the view was spoilt was the copious amount of rubbish that was littering the nearby bushes and all along the shore. It was then where we both saw a dead cat for the first time. Half expecting to have seen one in the many medinas in Morocco, we weren't prepared to see one on washed up on what could have been a beautiful shoreline. Saddening the moment it made up Kat's mind to write a letter to the King, Mohammed V, addressing him of the amount of rubbish throughout the country and how it not only spreads disease, it contributes to global warming. This reminds us... We need to rope Kat's dad and anyone else into helping write the letter so it sounds formal and factual...
We left Dakhla a while later once Aziz and Habib had picked up their papers and then drove outside the town to bed down for another night in the lorry.
written by  Kat and Ben on July 1, 2009 from Ad Dakhla, Western Sahara

Off Road Truckers
Nouadhibou, Mauritania
The border crossing from Western Sahara to Mauritania is quite difficult to describe. To get though the actual border itself you have to fill out a form, then wait..... For some reason our English passports had been put in a different pile and there seemed no order of a queuing system and without Aziz stepping in and asking why the English are still waiting 2 hours after turning up, we could still have been there. After the first stamp you walk 10yards to a police check point, then another 10yards to the Army check point, at this point there is now no road and at the last check point we got another stamp and sent on our way.
We got back in the lorry and Aziz starts zig zagging though the sand with no road or signposts just bumpy, sandy, rocky desert. A car had over taken the convoy of trucks that Aziz and ourselves were leading. The cocky car then got stuck in the sand and 4people got out the back seat with spades and started frantically digging like it was some kind of gumball rally. Still driving in zig zags the path now indicated by loads, and we mean loads, of abandoned vehicles.
From cars to trucks, they had evidently broken down sometime ago and were now stripped of all their interior leaving behind a metal shell. It strangely enough didn't look too much out of place with all of the rubbish that surrounded the dunes.
Finally we reached tarmac and yet more police checks. Only this time there were 3 types of check points-one for police, one for gendarmarie and one army. When asking Aziz, who was losing his patience and his money by this point from all of the bribes he was paying, why are there so many checks so close together when all there is around us is desert? he replied it's because they want money. We've no idea what to believe but what we do know is what we saw and that was people giving 'gifts' to the uniforms from their cars. Whether this was to speed up the process or to avoid the vehicle from being completely unloaded like some of the trucks that obviously couldn't pay up. We had our passports checked and stamped again before we drove about a mile and stopped at what looked like a derelict town where several trucks were parked up.
In the village that consisted of about 5 recognizable buildings still standing, one of them claimed to be a restaurant. Inside the restaurant it was a shoes off jobby and to our disappointment it was just a resting room with cushions and a rug. To our delight they had showers and a sit down toilet which was pretty disgusting with it being a truckers stop.
On chatting to the owner, Mohammeda, who sat in the corner of the main room and stared a lot. We found out that he was the cook, waiter, cleaner and shop keeper, his shop consisted of a silver lockable briefcase (the key around his neck) that contained a bureau de exchange, tabac, mobile top-up, and soft drinks. He was a nice guy that seemed to stare a lot and he even shared his traditional Mauritanian fish'n'rice lunch with us. However we were charged for using the showers and he did want us to sleep in the restaurant come hotel from probably an added cost but we declined, sleeping in the camion for another night.
That evening we got to see the other restaurant/hotel which was a cook your own. Habib taking over the cooking prepared a tagine and it was looking vegetarian as we watched Habib peal tomatoes but when it was dished up Kat was mortified as a leg of lamb came out. We stayed two nights in Nouâdhibou resting from the sun in either of the guesthouses. We made friends with other truckers, Kat tried to play rummie with a guy who was playing hearts and she still beat him.
There was another guy called Omar who kept wanting his picture taken with her. By the third day she was fed up of being the play thing and looked forward to leaving once Aziz and Habib got their papers.
Whilst we were there though we managed to see the longest train in the world (the Iron Ore Railway) a few times during our stay.
written by  Kat and Ben on July 3, 2009 from Nouadhibou, Mauritania

What a let down.
Nouakchott, Mauritania
We arrived in Nouakchott in the dead of night. The journey was long but the roads looked captivating with the sand blowing in a sea of waves across the tarmac. We almost ran over a camel earlier on during the day so we were keeping our eyes peeled there weren't any ready to jump out and surprise us. We stopped outside a big house / compound where the guys could eat and Kat could use the loo. The place was like an abandoned hotel where people were living in the run down rooms. We went up to one apartment that was full of mosquitoes and some men were asleep in mozzie nets in a room. Kat's tummy was hurting and the toilet happened to be one of the worst we've been in yet. It was pure filth! There was no running water and looked like it had never seen a bog brush. That wasn't the only problem though. Kat used the last of the loo roll and Ben had to go as well...
After Aziz and Habib had finished eating, we returned to the camions where Ben made his excuses to go on the hunt for tissue. Kat had disappeared off to bed at this point as it was 2am and a cold had also broken with her, so she missed it when Ben collected bottle labels to wipe his arse with. The sad yet funny part was that after squatting and doing a shit that resembled a cow pat, he tried picking up one of the labels out from under a rock which caused them to all blow away in a gust of wind. As if someone above was humoring him, a pair of Bermuda shorts were blown his way in the same gust of wind. The opportunist he his, he snatched them up and wiped away.
Having to endure the toilet again the following morning, Kat was feeling lousy. The day unfortunately didn't improve when went with Aziz and Habib to get their lorries unloaded and then went into town with Aziz. We smelt something fishy then as Aziz had told us to leave our bags. Why go all the way into town and not get dropped off?! Well we were right to trust our instincts as he drove us to a cash point. We had already decided to give 12,000ogli so got out that and some more for the money belt. Driving back to the depot we felt sick to the stomach as we were worried what was to come. On arrival Habib came to say goodbye to us and after hugging and shaking hands he said "Aziz drop you in town and you give him 1500 dirhams". WHAT?!? That's 150euros! We explained that we had some money for Aziz but not that much because we were hitch-hiking and the buses were too expensive. On telling him and Aziz who turned up at this point that we were going to give 12,000 ogli (£28). After much debating and we saying that a price wasn't mentioned to us otherwise we wouldn't have rode with them, the 2 men walked off to talk. We had another 4000ogli in our wallet which we previously told them was all that we had left and gave it to them to smooth things over as much as possible. In the end they accepted the 16,000ogli (£37) and Aziz drove us back to the derelict house on the outskirts of the town. We said our goodbyes, Aziz taking us up in a big bear hug and forced Kat to take 1000ogli note for a taxi. We decided to walk with our rucksacks instead and head to the shops for much needed loo roll and water.
Once we got supplies, we walked around looking for a hotel in the blazing heat. Kat was feeling pretty light-headed and seeing little paws belonging to cats facing upwards and embedded in the sandy streets. It was pretty awful and an image that'll stick with us.
We were stopped a few times by street sellers and one man who approached us insisted on giving us gifts. A bracelet each and invited us into his shop to meet his family. Giving the man the benefit of the doubt we went with him and listened to him tell us about Mauritania and his family in Senegal. He cut to the chase after a while and asked us to buy a bag of rice for his baby's naming ceremony the next day. Hearing about so many different cons, we told him we didn't have any money on us and couldn't help for the moment. Trying to give the gifts back he wouldn't accept them and wanted us to return later for food. Once we eventually left and found the road with hotels on we were pestered again by a man trying to get us to stay at his campsite. Kat was ready to lie down and never move again at this point so we swiftly went through the hotels trying to find one with the lowest price after some serious haggling. 14000ogli was the very lowest and the room looked more like a suite so we agreed to the price. It had air-conditioning, TV, seating area, balcony and an ok bathroom which became essential in the following 72hours.
Kat got from bad to worse so we stayed there for 3 days until she felt a bit better and the antibiotics kicked in, which Ben painfully got from the local pharmacy. We say painfully because Ben's French is really bad so with embarrassing hand and body gestures he managed to get the Doctor, pharmacist and a helpful assistant to understand Kat's condition. so we decided to risk the journey to Senegal.
We didn't get great vibes from Mauritania and it didn't help with the hotel receptionist constantly knocking on our door to take payment - Ben's cash cards weren’t working and Kat's cards were not accepted which caused a few problems but were solved with the thanks to Ben's dad. So after those few days of illness, watching lots of TV and Ben trying his best to play nurse to Kat (with only a few mishaps), we were ready to move on and decided to risk the journey to Senegal.
written by  Kat and Ben on July 5, 2009 from Nouakchott, Mauritania

Crossing the River
Rosso, Senegal
We found shade and Ben sorted out getting the passports stamped whilst Kat stayed with the bags. It was another hour or so until we were rested enough to make the journey across the river in a pirogue in the blazing heat. Having gotten rid of the tag-along one side, we managed to get another guy follow us the other. We lost him when we jumped into a taxi to take us to the grand taxi station and didn't give him the tip he was demanding from us for basically following us. We had decided to go to Dakar, the capital, as we thought it was only a few hours away and held more prospects of having a good and cheap place to stay so Kat could recuperate. Go the 3hours we were waiting at the taxi stand waiting for our 7 seated taxi to fill up with passengers, we met an English couple who were heading to St. Louis, 2hours along the coast. Just as we were thinking of changing our destination the taxi was finally ready to leave. We didn't realise how far away Dakar was as the ride turned out to be 7 and a half hours long, dropping us off at the city's outskirts at 11.30pm.
written by  Kat and Ben on July 9, 2009 from Rosso, Senegal

Crossing Borders
Rosso, Mauritania
The hotel receptionist in Nouakchott flagged down a local taxi to take us to the main taxi rank, we think he felt a little guilty for pestering us so much as Ben had previously told him to stop knocking on our door because Kat was ill.
We pulled up at the taxi station where we were bombarded with drivers arguing over who's going to take us and for what price. Men were trying to take our bags and shove them in the bags of their car; it was a bit of a tug-o-war match but we got a good price, 7000ogli for us and our bags for the 2hr journey to the border.
It was 1pm when we arrived and lots of people trying to 'help' us which left us feeling disorientated. It's illegal to take Mauritanian money out of the country and there is no official place to change it into CFA, only a run down shop with a man and an old calculator. We'd gotten the conversion from Oli's West Africa book so the one the man was giving us was way off and we felt the dread of being seriously screwed over. Arguing it the man who had shown us the shop took us round the back of it and down an alleyway. There were a few men sat in a lean to and one came out with a load of money in the breast socket of his shirt. We told him how much we wanted to change and what we wanted in CFA in return and he gave it to us no questions asked. Our next obstacle was the guard at the border gate... To give you a clear representation of Mauritanian police force, the guard said the gate was shut until 3pm so we'd have to wait for 2hours or pay him 3000oglis even though he was letting people in and out of the gate. Kat was feeling weak again and we just wanted to get through the border and into some shade so we paid the corrupt bastard. If Kat wasn't ill, we so should have given them hell as it's outrageous how much they try to take from you and we have a right to question it.
written by  Kat and Ben on July 9, 2009 from Rosso, Mauritania

More hassle than Marakesh
Dakar, Senegal
After getting dropped on the outskirts we had to get another taxi to a 'petit' (cheap) hotel. The taxi was surprisingly expensive even though we had haggled it down. However the hotel he dropped us off at was even more of a surprise being £40 a night! Senegal was supposed to be cheaper than Mauritania! We took a look at the room anyway and noticed that there were no mosquito nets and saw 3 cockroaches running across the floor. When asking if there was a cockroach free room with nets, the receptionist said no so we left.
Walking down the road the taxi driver started following us on foot down the dark street until a security guard stopped him. We got talking to another security guard who directed us to a 'grand' hotel as that was all there was in the area and it was getting late.
We found a Novotel hotel round the corner and walked round the back into the ice cold reception. Not realising how hot it was until we'd stepped in the large foyer with a bar area, sculptures and desks, we immediately felt out of place. We went to the reception desk and the guy was very helpful. We asked what time checkout was, explaining we needed a lay in as it was currently midnight and we'd been traveling all day, he told us we could stay in our room till 4pm rather than 12. So we snapped up the offer and headed, paid the 96000CFA - we know, extortionate but we were pretty desperate, and headed to the 7th floor. After showers and watching some news on TV we fell asleep a little before 2am waking up at 8am with a hammer drill going off. Ben being half asleep told Kat it must be the aircon unit so Kat got up and turned it off only for the drilling to continue it's rude awakening. Ben waking up fully at this point called down to reception to complain. He was told the hotel is having renovation works from 8.30 to 3pm each day. Ben asked to speak with the manager and the receptionist informed him she would call up in 10mins.
We waited 20mins before calling again and saying we hadn't heard anything. She said another 10mins so we waited, at this point we had dressed and were ready to go down and speak with the manager directly when the phone rang. It was the manager who said there was nothing she could do when Ben asked for a full refund or an extra night for free. We said it was not good enough and we would come down and talk to her directly. Kat still looked pretty awful which helped with the sympathy vote when we spoke to her in her office. We told her that we were backpacking and because Kat was poorly she needed a good night’s sleep, so there was no issue about paying the 100euros for the room as the guy at the desk last night said we could lay in until 4pm. She said the staff member would have told us about the renovation works when we looked surprise and said if we had known this, we would have gone elsewhere because that’s how important a good night rest was for us. She called the night shift receptionist on his mobile to confirm this which he did-it would have been easy for him to say no so we were pleased he told the truth and said we didn't want him to get into trouble or anything. Her answer was that she wasn't going to hit him, which didn't bring much comfort but caused us to reply with an awkward laugh. So begrudgingly she let us stay another night for free on the condition that we checked out by 12 the next day.
We ventured out of the hotel in search for water and food which was a mistake as we were swamped first by taxi drivers and then street sellers. It was too much and even though it was a quick half hour outing, Ben ended up losing it with one guy selling rugs who was stuffing them in our faces and following us down the street. It was so bad that Ben took one of the rugs and wiped the sweat off of his forehead with it. Kat was mortified but not as much as the man trying to flog it. Let’s just say we quickened our steps and Ben got a bollocking when we got back to our hotel room...
The next time we re-emerged from our room was early evening and we headed to an internet cafe before going back to the hotel to eat. It was almost a celebration as it was Kat's first proper meal in over a week. It was only pasta and tomato sauce but it was better than Ben's citron chicken and not too rich for her delicate stomach. It was odd as smells were starting to make Kat feel really sick and Ben's chicken was one of those smells, so we left for our room once Ben had finished both dishes.
That evening we called Kat's dad from the hotel room's phone to say 'call us back!'
As Kat was feeling down in the dumps, speaking to her dad cheered her up loads. She managed to tell him to pass the number onto her mum who was in England staying with her sister for a few days. So after a while she gave up sitting by the phone and just as she was getting into bed the phone rang again! It was so lovely to hear everyone's voice but unfortunately the conversation was short due to the call being made from Georgina and Alec's home phone and it was most likely an expensive call.
The next morning we were off early to an internet shop to find a cheap place to stay in the city. It was a mission as the connection kept messing up and we were up against the clock to get back to the hotel in good time. Kat found one eventually that was only about 20mins walk away and although still a bit pricey, was cheaper than where we were.
Hotel Farid was about £40 a night and in the heart of the city near Independence Square, the markets and had a Lebanese restaurant across the street. We wondered around the town getting our bearings and dodging all of the sellers as best as we could. They actually have charity street workers (chuggers) here who all seem to be really tall and physically grab you when you pass. There were a few times when we nearly smacked them one as the harassments were getting a bit too much for us.
The hotel had free internet so we got stuck into doing our blog and didn't realise the time until we started getting peckish around 8.30pm. We'd eaten in a fast-food Lebanese place around lunch time and had given us a taste for falafels so we popped across the road to the restaurant. We sat down and Ben's face looked all of a sudden quite serious as he said he'd just ripped his trousers on a nail sticking out of the chair next to him. Kat told him to show his rip to her which was on his knee and fairly large, big enough to draw the waiter's attention so he could explain how it happened. Next minute the chair was taken away and the manager came out to apologise whilst we could hear the banging of a hammer coming from the kitchen. Accepting her apology and Kat trying to sooth Ben's somber mood, we tucked into a Greek salad, hummus, babagonoosh (amazing aubergine dip), flat breads and flag beers. All of which turned out to be free of charge as compensation for Ben's trousers. Two freebies in two days wasn't bad at all, even if it did mean Kat had to sew up the gaping hole in Ben's trousers.
It felt like de-ja-vu when we got us the next morning and went in search for another cheap hotel. A man started to follow us and told us that he knew of a cheap place to stay and led us to the owner’s house first before taking us to look at the rooms in the hostel. We would have never found it on our own and without a guidebook, the entrance was tucked away and we had to go up 3 floors to an apartment with several rooms in. Deciding to stay in the minimalist double room with shared bathroom for £15, we arranged to return in an hour with our bags. The man walked us back and waited outside our hotel. We knew this meant trouble because we knew he would demand payment for his services even though we had decided to tip him for his help. On returning to the Auberge Vieria, we paid the woman whose name was Binta and waited for the 800CFA change to give to the man who started to complain that it wasn't enough. Shocked by the reaction we gave him the 200 coin Ben had in his pocket to round it up to 1000CFA. However on reflection of this only minutes after he left did we find our balls and realise we should have probably told him to stuff it and say that what we gave him would have supplied us with water for 3 days! It's a shame how we can't get close to anyone here as they all want something from you.
It was that day when we met a German guy called David who was staying in the same hostel. He'd traveled a similar route to us from Morocco and on listening to his stories, was really unlucky at times. Finding out about his bag being stolen in Mauritania with his passport, camera, bank cards etc in, had trouble with police at the border whilst transporting a car for a man he met, giving 600euros to a diabetic man who may have been a con artist and getting the same illness as Kat. Although we were sorry for him to be poorly still, Kat was relieved that she wasn't alone and having someone relate to the symptoms. We told him about the antibiotics which helped a little but that it seems to take forever to be 100% again.
After taking some time out to relax we went in search of the Mali embassy where a kind old security man informed us that the embassy was where we were now standing but had moved over 10years ago. Looking at when our hotel map was printed, we spied a tiny date at the bottom saying 1988!
The man was really sweet and flagged down a taxi explained where we wanted to go and agreed a local, not tourist, fair for us.
At the Mali embassy we asked the diplomat what type of visas are available. He said that we're able to get a 5day transit visa at the border but didn't know the price. We had all ready done a little research into prices and he confirmed that the 30day visa was the same price as quoted on the internet, so we left our half filled in forms with him and decided the 5day transit visa would suite our needs better. We got in another taxi and asked to go to the Nigerian embassy this time. The driver didn't know where it was and had to call a friend and we were not sure if it had moved like Mali so couldn't gauge how far it was and ended up paying more than we should have. The Nigerian embassy was lovely and cool inside, but unfortunately the guy we spoke to about visas was not very helpful. His attitude was like he couldn't be bothered and it was confirmed when we told him we were traveling south and asked if we could get the visa from anywhere else. He then exclaimed that it's easier to get the visa in Benin or Togo and then turned his back on us and walked away. End of that conversation.
We walked back to our apartment from the embassy as it was only a few kilometers and stopped at a bar for some cold drinks along the way. When we got back to the apartment Binta was playing ludo with some friends and we could hear them all laughing as we laid down for a rest in our room, but the noise from the dice outside was too noisy to sleep.
It is was after 3days of being there that Kat realises the really pathetic fan in our room that was on setting 5 was in fact the slowest speed and 1 was the fastest. It was literally the day before we left so she wanted to cry at her stupidity at not checking it sooner as the room was still so warm with the fan going. We guess that because there was no electric or running water when we checked in and when the fan was first turned on, we just automatically assumed the fan was shit like the rest of the place so didn't question it. Not even when Ben went into David's room and realised that his fan was moving faster than ours. Idiot.
Pleased that we didn't need to stay in Dakar any longer for visas, we did some last bits and pieces on our last day like posting off Lizzie and Jenni's birthday presents and Kat's dad's father's day present-all were very belated which we apologise again for; went into an internet cafe to speak to our parents over webcam and lastly, find the fast-food place we had previously been to at Ben's desperate bid to have another veggie burger which consisted of the following: falafels, fried egg, cheese, a little salad, chips and ketchup all in a bun. It looked awful and how he is not fat Kat doesn't know.
Saying goodbye to David and Ben returning the key to Binta who was just sat in her bra, we made our way to the grand taxi and bus depot. Talk about being thrown to the wolves! We should have gotten used to it by now but it's tough when men are surrounding you and your bag demanding where you're going and are so close you have to push yourself out of the tightly knit human circle they form around you. Another technique we've found that helps clear some space is to turn around pretty forcefully with our rucksacks on.
Getting some breathing space we began walking down the road to a bank and were being followed by a few of the men who wouldn't take no for an answer. Stopping to have some water and to see if they'd also stop (which they did), Ben told them to stop following us because it was pissing us off. They backed off, but we still had to return there after we popped to the bank. Dread. Eventually after a bit of confusion regarding destinations and haggling over the cheapest way to get to Mbour, we boarded the cramped and battered 14 seater minibus. We were sat in the front seat and noticed a large hole in the floor where the gear stick was as we watched the road whizzing by underneath us. It took us 3 long and hot hours to drive the 83km to the outskirts of Mbour.
written by  Kat and Ben on July 9, 2009 from Dakar, Senegal

2s, 8s and Queens
Sali-Portugal, Senegal
We are starting to really hate the “Garages” from where the long distance commuters go to and from, we got dropped off and were immediately hassled, for taxis bus and food. We walked straight out of the car park and headed down the main road to put some distance between us and the hustlers. We had written down the directions to the hostel we found on Hostelworld.com and tried two taxis before getting one that would help. The phone number we had written down from the internet seemed to be for a fax machine and the driver needed to speak to several people to help with better directions. It wasn’t and comfort that the taxi we were in had a slow puncture and he needed to stop to get it re-inflated. When we finally arrived and paid, he gave us his contact number and said if we needed going anywhere to give him a call. It was later when we found out that we paid too much for the taxi, but we didn’t mind that much as he helped us and had to use his phone credit to call people.
Walking through the gates to the Auberge Africa Thiossane and waving goodbye to the taxi driver, we saw that it looked rather empty and it was very quite. Opening the door to the house itself and not being able to see a receptionist or desk we called out “Hello” a few times before somebody heard us. We asked if they were open and he said yes of course, showing us to the room which had mosquito nets, bathroom and a balcony with furniture to sit out on. The price was 13,000CFA (₤17.56) and we stayed two nights. On that first day the gardener kindly showed us to the local shops so we could buy water, once we got settled and the sun was a little less hot, it’s noticeably hotter the further near the equator we get, we walked to the beach.
On the way to the beach we saw loads of different coloured lizards, Ben likes the yellow and navy blue ones. Walking along the beach to find a good spot to sit and people watched for a moment, it appeared that the only thing to do in Saly Portudal is run on the beach - we must have seen hundreds of runners some even running backwards in the heat! It was so hot we were sweating just watching them. As always no peace and it wasn’t long before we were approached by two guys, one saying he makes hats like Bens for a living and the saying that they lived a little further up the coast and invited us to join them in the evening for lobster and music. We explained that we were vegetarians so there was no need for lobster, but we might pop over for the music depending on how tired we were.
On getting back to the hostel we needed a cool drink so we sat at the bar onsite and started talking with Zorro, the main guy in charge. We took our drinks and sat down, played a few hands of cards before Zorro and the Gardener joined us and played. We taught them the 2’s, 8’s, and Queens (Beat Your Neighbour) game and they became addicted to it; it was getting late at this point so we excused ourselves and asked if we could use the kitchen to cook. Zorro said no problem and he even let us use their big bottle of gas to cook on in the kitchen area which was crawling with cockroaches and bugs of all sizes. We didn’t take our time and it wasn’t a banquet, we had Chinese noodles with miso soup and dried mushrooms that we had been brought with us all the way from the UK; Zorro tried some and didn’t seem too impressed, perhaps because of the date of the mushrooms or just not used to Chinese noodle soup. After dinner we went back downstairs but Kat being paranoid of being bitten by mosquitoes put her jeans and shirt on, pulling her collar up and doing all the buttons up so she looked ridiculous, but it proved a point as later in the evening whilst playing cards again a giant cockroach over an inch long (no we are not over exaggerating) flew straight into Kats face, bouncing off and landing on her shirt before being swiped off by Kats flailing arms. Kat still to this day thinks if she didn’t look such a knob that night it would have landed down her top and it would have been Bens fault for sure.
The second day we walked to the shops for some food to cook that night, we stayed in the hostel most of the day reading and Kat doing some urgent sewing repairs to clothes. We chilling out when we were interrupted with a knock on the door and it was Zorro asking if everything was ok, he noticed that the bathroom door handle was broken and he said he would fix it. He spent nearly 2 hours trying to fix it and it still came off in Kat’s hand after she went to the loo and nearly locked herself in the toilet. The whole knocking on the door thing happens a lot in Africa, which becomes really annoying as it means there’s little chance to relax completely before you have to get up and answer the door.
This evening after cooking spaghetti with tomatoes and sweetcorn in cockroach central, we went down to the bar and continued to play cards with Zorro where they allowed us to play our Ipod over the bar tannoy system. Ben ordered a beer which Zorro helped himself to a glass out of the bottle, thinking it was rude then thought that the drink was on the house. We retired to bed to pack as we had an early start in the morning because we wanted to walk to Mbour town before the sun got too hot. Whilst we were packing there was a knock at the door with Zorro wanting to take our photo. Disappearing we continued what we were doing when a few minutes later, there was another knock on the door, it was Zorro again asking for payment for the ‘free’ beer and a further 200cfa from a previous tab. We paid up and hoping he wouldn’t knock again, we went to sleep.
Waking up at 5.30am and snoozing till 6am we finally left half an hour later to begin out walk to Mbour. Just around the corner from the hostel we were approached by a man saying he was the gardener at the Auberge and needed 1000cfa for a hospital bill; we explained to him we already met the gardener of the hostel and had heard of the scams going around involving hospital bills and prescriptions so were unable to help him. He then asked for 500cfa for a taxi to get to Mbour hospital, which we said there was a hospital in walking distance around the corner and we were walking to Mbour to meet friends because we didn’t have any money. He even offered to pay for us to get on the horse and trap to Mbour to get money of our friends. We gave him some water (which he didn’t say thank you for) and eventually stopped following us and got on a donkey and trap. We found out the reason why he stopped following us when we asked a man for directions and it turned out we were going in the wrong direction. We can’t believe the bastard didn’t tell us we were going to wrong way!
We started walking…
written by  Kat and Ben on July 15, 2009 from Sali-Portugal, Senegal

Camping on the beach
Nianing, Senegal
The village like many along the cost in Senegal was a fishing village, but what we found was it’s where they skin and dry the fish for popular Senegalese dishes. The smell was awful, ten times worse than the port we past in the morning, as dead fish were laid out to dry in the sun and flies were everywhere. As we walked towards the village leaving the beach, the stench increased to the point that Kat was retching and holding her nose so we hurried to find somewhere quite and smell free to rest. She was very upset with herself for not being able to control her body’s reactions, Ben thought of the scented Chinese fan to help Kat with the smell which she had to told to her nose.
We asked a local man where we could buy some water and food and he kindly showed us to the local shop, having to past the fish stalls again Kat discreetly continued to hold the fan to her nose as we walked past. We sat on the bar stools and ordered some soft drinks and water then went to sit in the shade on a wooden bench outside the shop. The strangest thing happened while we sat playing cards a radio crackled on and the soothing sounds of "Whispers in the morning" song came through then the radio then was turned off – obviously not a fan. We brought some snacks and headed to the end of the road where a huge tree stood giving a massive shadow.
We sat down to rest but within minutes a group of kids came running in our direction; no chance of that sleep we needed as the kids pestered us for 3 hours! It’s was Kat’s living nightmare… One of them even had a Shepherd’s machete. Ben was quite upset that he wasn’t able to eat the snacks purchased earlier without having to share them with the group of kids; we had a little breather when they went off to pray but left us with a guy who was waiting for something, we were not sure what. After our rest/pest we headed back to the beach and continued walking to Point-Sarene, grabbing more water and food for the walk ahead.
A few miles on we found a little beach hotel and it looked idyllic it was 7pm by now so we asked how much it would be for one night, the prices worked out to be 25,000cfa (₤33) but we only had 18,000cfa cash on us and they didn’t or didn’t want to accept payment by card claiming it was broken, mentioning that the nearest bank was in Mbour which we had left that morning. We continued our walk alone the beach after having a couple of well earned beverages.
The next hotel we found just around the alcove of the coastline looked to be abandoned, we asked the only person there if it was open and he said yes when we asked how much he didn’t know and said he would get some one to help, after waiting half an hour a receptionist turned up and said it was 60Euros and breakfast was included, we explained that the place was abandoned, the pool looked like a swamp and we would be leaving at 5am so didn’t need breakfast. The price was not negotiable so we left and tried to find somewhere safe to camp.
Our first night camping had to be on a beach. It was 8.30pm when we found an open part of land just off the beach behind a wall so the tent wouldn’t be visible by the ramblers on the beach. It was dark and windy now and we pitched the tent ok making sure the guide ropes were out. We hadn’t eaten dinner but decided it was too dark and far too windy to start cooking. Kat had the last 2 cookies Ben had left her and Ben ate the slightly stale bread. It took ages to get to sleep getting used to the surroundings, the strange noises and listening to the sea and wind. Slightly scared we fell asleep only to wake up at 11:30pm thinking we had slept for hours; it was so hot in the tent our body’s dripping with sweat and Kat needed the toilet as she still had a bad tummy. Ben escorted her to keep watch/guard but it was a good chance to get the see breeze. We finally fell asleep again setting our alarms for 5am, wanting to be up early to pack up before being seen and get walking while it was cool.
We left at 6am after Ben getting frustrated with his broken boot laces and difficulties packing bags and the tent in the dark. Kat needed the loo one again we started walking, wondering how there was anything in her to come out! About half an hour walk we came to an old fortress jutting over some rocks which we had to clamber over and around, it was a good job we didn’t leave any earlier as doing some of the maneuvers in the dark would have been too risky. We had to walk across a small ledge with the sea crashing against the wall of rocks that we had to walk over, timing our footsteps with the waves so not to get too wet. Just past the fortress we met some beach combers who were looking at what’s been washed up over night, we said bonjour and got grumbles back. A little further on we came to a bunch of fishermen preparing their boats for the morning catch. Walking past the boats out of no where a dog goes for Ben’s leg making us both jump which luckily scared the dog back, after walking on a bit the dog then went for Kat’s leg but she turned around and shouted viscously back as the owner came to call the dog back before anything bad happened to us or the dog.
At 8:30am we started walking on a man-made path not sure where it was leading and in desperate need of showers and a good night’s sleep…
written by  Kat and Ben on July 17, 2009 from Nianing, Senegal

Trekking along the beach
Mbour, Senegal
We got to Mbour town center and Ben’s T-Shirt was dripping wet, it was 9am by this time and it wasn’t that hot in the sun, so we sat on a park bench to cool off but yet again when wanting our space we were joined by a guy who spoke to us for a while. When we finished talking he just stood next to us expecting us to accept an offer of a tour, before he took the obvious hint of us saying ‘Au revior’ to him 5 times until he went. We had been waiting for the bookshop to open to see if they sold maps, but got fed up of waiting and started walking towards the port where the fish market was.
Mbour is a fishing port and around the corner from the square we had sat to rest was the port itself. The port was busy with market stalls and boats unloading. The smell was so strong and it made Kat heave. With the smell of rotting fish and animal excrement in our noses we hastily moved on towards the beach to get past the smell.
We walked south along the beach stopping frequently in the shade; it was around eleven when we found a little village just out side of Nianing to restock up our supplies and to find somewhere to rest out of the midday sun.
written by  Kat and Ben on July 17, 2009 from Mbour, Senegal

Finding Eldorado
Pointe-Sarene, Senegal
After a rough night of camping and an early start, we got to Point-Sarene at about 8.30am. Walking up a path lined with palm trees either side we were suddenly approached by a security guard blocking the way. As we appeared out of nowhere he seemed shocked when told him that we had walked with our bags from Saly, feeling like we had to explain ourselves and motives for turning us at the hotel. Letting us pass, he directed us to more security men in a hut on the beach whom we asked where reception was. From the hut, the hotel complex looked pretty small with small huts that were apartments. The guards said reception was on the other side of the road and one of them said to follow him, not having any idea there was a road so close. We decided that rather than lugging our bags and finding out it was too expensive, Ben took a seat and stayed on the beach bag watching while Kat trotted off following the 6'5'' giant though the huts and plant life. Kat seemed to be taking ages and Ben started to worry, but in the distance he saw her coming back. Explaining that it was miles away and she didn't have any ID or credit cards with her she had to come back. We got our rucksacks on and walked the distance to reception.
The place was massive and it expanded across the main road (a parc complex and a beach complex that we stayed on), which we had to cross to get there. Kat had already said it was expensive and there was an all inclusive deal for only 6000cfa extra. We both agreed that we could certainly drink that in soft drinks and being there meant alcohol was included too and Ben, knowing he could eat way more than 6000cfa worth, we went for it and got our little pick bracelets.
We really shouldn't have stayed there as it cost about £100 a night for the full wack, but because Kat was feeling exhausted and still a bit under the weather she said it would be her treat to pamper us both. So we dumped our bags in our gorgeous and romantic little hut, showered and pegged it to breakfast before it finished at 10am.
Ben was in his element and became bossy at this point, demanding that Kat eat properly. So she piled up her plate with the burntist toast she could find and really good scrambled eggs, whilst Ben filled up on... Eggs, crispy bacon, spicy sausages, toast, cereal, an American pancake, waffle, croissant and a load of fruit juice. He definitely got our money's worth in that sitting.
As we both felt so full after, we just chilled out around the pool before swimming our breakfast off and then returning to the dining area for round 2, lunchtime!
Still stuffed but refusing to be beaten, Kat had some veggies and rice with cheese to finish and Ben managed a fat steak, rice and pudding. He gave up on eating the cheese and bread after he nearly choked to death. Kat thought he was ok and then joking as he was pulling a funny face, but it wasn't until he was pointing to his back did she respond saying 'seriously?' With him nodding in between coughs, she quickly went round to beat his back, thinking he's going to be sick on his plate...
After that little drama we swiftly left and thought it wise to sooth Ben's throat with cocktails and cold beers by the pool. Kat's tummy was still struggling so we didn't drink that much that evening so rather than hanging out by the bar we went to explore the complex and find the crocodiles we had heard about...
The grounds were crawling with wildlife, we had monkeys roaming around our room and posed for our camera;
loads of beautiful birds
and a huge lizard strutting his stuff by the tennis courts. It looked more like a dragon that could not only run really fast, it could swim as well which we later found out.
The crocs were kept in a pool on the other side of the complex and we only saw one out of the 7 that were hidden in the depths. Looking at the map of the grounds, we found out there was more animals kept further up into the parc side of the complex. On the way we saw a guard who had a gun and were wondering why he needed one until we turned the corner and saw two hyenas, one male and one heavily pregnant female. They were in separate cages that had a door at the back that went into a large enclosure, but still not as large as the hills they’d be roaming if they were free. Kat wasn’t impressed with the hotel’s mock-up of a zoo and Ben wasn’t impressed with the huge erection that the male hyena was sporting. Penis envy springs to mind… Walking further on, we saw huge turtles and sleepy baboons who had human looking teeth and signposts all around the place saying that they were aggressive.
Although we were wearing trousers and deeted up to the eyeballs, Kat felt like she was getting bitten alive in the long grass we were walking in so we started heading to the bar on this side of the complex. The bar manager told us to hurry up and get our butts over to the other complex for our complimentary aperitifs. It felt like a long way to go for a drink seeings we were already at a bar, but we went over to check out the freebies…
Traffic light drinks that were well and truly spiked with alcohol and peanuts classed as the aperitifs, we had a feeling there was an ulterior motive to basically trying to get everyone shit-faced, something that became clearer when the entertainment started after dinner.
After only a few sips of the awful drinks, we returned to the parc side of the complex, feeling like we had well and truly worked up an appetite. Pigging out on the amazing potato gratin, green beans and carrots for main (Ben had Chicken with his), with cheese and puddings to follow and a splash of wine. Kat’s head was feeling the effects of the earlier drinking during the day and the entertainment after dinner was the icing on the cake.
A Frenchman in his late 50’s was up on stage miming to songs whist a handful of Gambian staff were half-heartedly dancing in the background. We could only bear two songs before going back to our hut for a much needed sleep as we’d been up since 5am.
The next day Ben had a plan up his sleeve whilst Kat contemplated packing up her bag. Cooking the books, Ben said that looking at our payment book with a record of all of our spendings, it wouldn’t be so awful for us to stay another night, just to make sure Kat was 100% of course. Kat didn’t need much convincing, but was questioning how people choose to go on all inclusive holidays for more than a few days as everything, from daily activities to when you can swim in the pool right down to eating times, were all scheduled.
Going to tell reception we were staying another day, they tried charging us for the next day’s breakfast saying they wouldn’t know whether or not we would have it as we were only entitled to one breakfast, but we refused to pay it saying we wouldn’t stay if that was the case. Another man stepped in and adjusted the bill for us, taking off the additional 12000 cost so all was fine in the end, but it did mean we had to rush back over to the beach side dining area to have breakfast. Kat had the same again plus a yum yum donut thing to finish and Ben did his usual self and went the whole hog by having eggs, bacon with onion, toast, cereal, waffle, American and English pancakes and a yum yum as well. Where does the boy put it?! He eyed up a girl in a bikini during breakfast so Kat wasn’t best pleased when he denied it and also said he felt ill after eating so much, suggesting we went back to the bedroom. It gave Kat a chance to ignore Ben for a while as she fell asleep for a good 2hours. Once waking up and sorting out our differences, we went for a dip in the pool, played cards and went for a very small lunch this time. We got dressed into trousers a little earlier this evening and went back over to the parc side again, trying to spot some more crocs as we had heard there were two really big ones in there. We saw the head of a huge one just below the bridge in which we were standing as it came up every 7minutes for air before lowering it’s head into the green water and becoming camouflaged.
Making up for lost drinking time, we abused our pink bands to the max this evening. Before dinner we were on beers and cocktails as we watched a fashion show with the hotel guests modeling the clothes that were for sale in the hotel’s shop. Talk about a marketing ploy. It reminded Kat of the holiday to Turkey she went on with her family when she was about 8 and her mum took part in the hotel’s fashion show, modeling leather jackets etc. It made us giggle though as some people, especially one woman in particular, took it very seriously as if there was a talent scout in the audience.
Dinner was Spag-bol and cheese…. Cheese…..mmmm. We still couldn’t eat loads but we managed to put some drink away. Getting squiffy, laughing at the Frenchman doing his miming act and feeling embarrassed for the single women groping and gyrating up against some of the male staff. We continued to drink the bar dry until they closed and remembering that the complex had a nightclub onsite, we giggled like excited school children at the prospect of doing some funny dance moves and stumbled with our drinks to where the music was now coming from.
On entering, we were drawn to the neon lights everywhere and a woman sat up at the bar on her own. Other than the barman and the DJ the place was empty. Taking a seat, we shouted to each other over the music about the women who were dancing earlier and then realised the woman with the white shoes at the bar was the one who was taking the fashion show pretty seriously. It all became clear when one of the men who worked at the resort entered and she went to hit like a fly to shit. He had to prise her arms from his waist before disappearing out the door again. It was only a few minutes later when one of the female gyrators came in looking for someone…. It was entertainment to watch in between Ben barring his teeth and says Kat’s have a competition to see whose teeth shine up the most in the UV light. Kat won hands down, but not before taking some funny photos…
Deciding it was time to go to bed, we went back to our hut stopping when Ben had to pee in a bush. He was soooooooo drunk and proved it when he disappeared into the bathroom and a retching sound could be heard. Kat went into give him some water and was presented with the image of Ben’s head in the sink. What 28year old throws up in the sink?! Kat wasn’t impressed as it was all clogged up and told Ben to puke in the loo from now on whilst she tried to unblock the sink. Pleased for her stronger stomach now, she cleared up most of it until Ben insisted that he finsished clearing up his mess. Kat was just getting back into bed when she heard a tap running, so entering the bathroom once again she found Ben next to the sink that was filled up to the brim with boiling water and sick. Kat went nuts as all of her hard work at emptying it was wasted so she let Ben sort it out and only stepped in when he was using his penknife to try and unscrew the unit under the sink to unblock the U-bend. It wasn’t until she confiscated the knife and told him to use one of the glasses to empty the grose water into the toilet did she leave him to it and return to bed. It was 2am by the time we both went to bed, not a great finish to an amazing two days rest.
We were up at 7am the next morning and Ben had his head down the loo one last time before we checked-out and had the ordeal of finding out the only bank around was back in Mbour…
written by  Kat and Ben on July 18, 2009 from Pointe-Sarene, Senegal

Retracing our steps
Mbour, Senegal
After finding out that there were no cash machines further south we had to go back up north to Mbour. Walking out of the hotel it dawned on us that all our walking along the beach was in vain and we had to get a taxi back (we certainly were not walking the 14km back). Knowing it would be difficult getting a cheap taxi from outside the hotel complex (we were quoted an extortionate 10,000cfa) we started to walk and hitch back to Mbour; after only 5mins of walking we got picked up and gave the guy 1000cfa. He dropped us off outside the bank and we got enough cash out to last until we got to Gambia. Walking back towards the main road to get a lift to Joal-Fadiout, we got talking to a Gambian man called Essa. It was lovely to speak English for a change and he invited us back to his compound to talk about Gambia and meet his sister-in-law, nephew and friends. When we got inside the compound, the heavens opened so we sat in the dry iron house and we shared our rola-cola with everyone and listened to Essa talking about Gambia. It was funny that he kept saying how the Gambians are honest and that the Senegalese always try and cheat you. As it was still heavily raining we were kinda stranded; Essa kept trying to persuade to stay for weeks with him and he would travel with us to Gambia and show us all the sights, he even offered that we could help do some agricultural work in own compound in Kartong, Gambia. Essa was in Senegal to save more money to buy a new boat, as his was written off in a accident. Whilst we were there we shared a Gambian dish of rice, fish and veg, we left the fish but the rice and veg was good albeit slightly fishy.
When the rain eased up Essa wanted to show us his passport so Ben followed him to his room in another compound leaving Kat reading French magazines. On Ben's return it was Kat's turn to see the other compound she was gone ages and Ben was starting to worry. Essa showed Kat where he slept, his friends compound where he had helped with the soil for a veg plot; 'did you know it only takes 40days for a cucumber plant to grow from seed to fruit', he told Kat what plants were good for the body - basil for digestion, henna for tummy upsets, etc. He was growing couscous, bananas, pomegranate and lots of herbs. He also took Kat other places to see a huge building that his rasta friend had built and decorated all with stones the size of her fist – it must have taken ages! They also walked to the beach where he kept on at her for us to stay but Kat made excuses as we didn’t want to stay in Mbour.
Back at the compound where Ben had been left trying to talk French with a family friend, Kat returned and we had lent Kat's fan to the Essa's sister-in-law to help fan her child but after breast feeding she had left the baby playing with it and now it was in pieces. The storm was over and we asked Essa for directions back to the road to which he reluctantly agreed and walked us back to the road where we all walked to the outside of the town; saying our goodbye's and Essa headed back home. We flagged down a taxi which took us straight to Joel-Fadiout for only 2000cfa, he also helped us find a place to camp although we decided to stay in a hotel which was good value. What a day.
written by  Kat and Ben on July 19, 2009 from Mbour, Senegal

best photo ever

Rubbish Hotel first night in france

Watching the Fish come in to the village

For Sale!

Waiting for Bens little sister to arrive at airport San Javier

View for a mountain

Free Music Avent - Drummers

Naked cyclist

Nudest Man on Beach

uncle mark's

ben's aunt and uncle's river

statue art

la rambla

along the rambla

Going for a Paddle

going into spain from france - the back doorway

piper

creepy buildings

tunnel through the Pyrenees (big mountains)

Uncle mark's house

rainy

edna's cafe

friends

snake catching

edna's owners

angel of the north

pesky snake

me and dad

me and mum

leaving UK

heading to Dunkirk

white cliffs

ben and mum

very windy

Uncle and aunt's house

angel from the road