Marrakesh, Marocco: Robert Plant's Personal Fav.

Picture a centuries old labyrinth where you're never really outside or inside. The streets are too narrow for a car but fit a donkey-drawn wagon perfectly. This is old Marrakesh. Finding your way around is impossible, so you accept being lost and explore the next twist. Your taxi driver tries to sell you hash, the nightwatchman tries to sell you hash, the street vendor tries to sell you opium. If they're not old enough to be selling drugs then they will try to give you a guided tour of the city in English, French, Spanish or the language of your choice, or at least try to help you find your way home. The poverty is overwhelming at times. Marrakesh seems an oasis after a train ride through the desert, where the land has nothing to offer; the people in the city seem just as hungry. Europe's proximity adds a sharp contrast. Mercedes and beggars, fine dining and food stands, French and Arabic.

For ten dollars US, two people can stay in a gorgeous Moroccan guest house. To find our buried palace, we had to hire a local man to guide us through five foot high tunnels, stone staircases and dark alleyways. It took our guide about thirty minutes of pushing his wheel barrow, filled with our bags, to finally announce that a 4 foot door covered in dirt, was in fact our destination. On the inside however was a completely different story. The guest house opened up unbelievably on the inside. Our loft had an open concept marble shower and bamboo bunk.

We spent most of our time wandering through the streets of the city, trying to piece together as many things as we could. The centre square featured snakes, monkeys and thieves during the day. At night, elaborate musical performances, street fighting and a huge food market created an atmosphere like no other. It would be easy to go on and on about how wonderful Marrakesh is.... it is a workout to get there.... worth it though.

U.K.O.K

I spent just under a year going to school in England. I was staying in a little holding cell at Lancaster University. The floor I was on was all male!!! I definitely miss some of my Lancaster friends thats for sure. I took a flamenco guitar course which really changed my taste in music. My teacher was a great guy named Howard Haigh, who taught me a lot about performance. I took part in one of his massive performances, which consisted of over 100 people singing, making weird noises and playing instruments all at the same time. The performance was called shifting sands... to see a flamenco band, a jazz band, a children's choir, an adult choir and a group of local maniacs (me and some homeless folk.... no joke) making "sound atmosphere", was out of this world. I also played some really great music with a friend I met there named Garreth, who's CD I still listen to all the time.

Jacqui came down to stay in the prison for a while and we had a really great time. We went camping in the lake district (where we froze our bodies to the bone). We also caught a really great rock show in Birmingham. The Hives & John Spencer Blues Explosion kicked @ss that night!!! We ended up stranded in the streets of England with nowhere to stay..... Finally, a girl that we had met earlier at a bar caught us wandering the streets and offered us a place to crash for the night. We stayed up all night drinking tea and talking about all kinds of England vs. Canada things.

Its always nice when you meet some nice friends on the road and is probably the reason we keep floating down the road.

Nice, France

France, well, Nice is really cold in the wintertime. French people are also often jerks. For example, Brad came down to Nice for a visit but he wasn't allowed in my house between the hours of 7:00-23:00. This was because those were the hours when my landlord was awake and I wasn't allowed to have company. My landlord was a jerk. During these hours we were outside and it was very cold because it was winter. Luckily Danielle provided us with food and shelter.

Determined to have a nice holiday we grabbed a tent and headed over to Antibes. Nights were cold but during the day our campsite was a field of daisies and sunlight. The French know how to camp in style, as well as sunlight and daisies the campground also came with an indoor swimming pool, a cafe, a bakery, hair dryers and everything else a French lady needs to be beautiful.

(Ya, that's snow in Nice)

The time in Nice was mostly spent on the beach, rain or shine. Sometimes this was good, like champagne and olives from a beach restaurant, other times it was terrible. Like napping on the beach in a cold drizzle and narrowly escaping death by a beach grooming truck. The nights consisted of making fresh gourmet vegan meals or live bands with pints of Stella. Sometimes you need the excuse of playing host to really check out the city you're living in.

AMSTERDAM!!!

Most people begin any good adventure in Amsterdam. The tulips are beautiful, clogs are nice, dutch women can ride bicycles with almost any amount of cargo loaded high, folks are friendly... well the list goes on. There is a really nice little hostel tucked just behind the red light district. We stayed there for many nights. In the mornings, you could get a really nice coffee and biscuit for a euro. The hostel keeps a really friendly atmosphere in the common room... which is also a bar. Great music is always playing, and they would often toss on a cd that we wanted to hear. The pic is of us at a great blues bar located in Leidsplein??? district (south end), its called the Waterhole. They played great music all night... there was some really great guitarin' happenin. Also great in that area, is another blues performance theater called Bourbon Street Blues. I've been there a couple times and when its packed, there is no better bar in the entire city.

It is definitely true that you can't mention Amsterdam without at
least making mention of the controversial issues. Prostitution and
soft drugs being legal absolutely makes Amsterdam a city like no other. For skeptics of these morals, I can say for certain that there is a sense of peace and beauty in the supposed city of sin.

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