On My Way Home

The final stretch has finally arrived and I’m only 3 more days at sea till I disembark in Boston. This trip has been great; I’ve added 4 new countries to my list and I’ve learned a lot about Mediterranean history, culture and policies. I’m so glad I had the opportunity to sail with my parents, and I’ve met a lot of really great girls from all over the US, who I definitely want to keep up with.

But I can’t pretend I am not extremely excited to come home. One thing Semester at Sea does is makes you appreciate how wonderful home really is. I am really looking forward to going back and seeing my friends, (yes, Rachel, here is your shout out!), Johnny, and, of course my fat cat, Mr. Panda. I am excited to get back to school and sing with Hoos in Treble, engage in the Promotions class, and eat dinner at the Kappa Delta house, listening to how everyone else’s summers went.

On this voyage, a group of my friends and I painted the flags of the countries we visited on our backs (I’m Italy). It’s a tradition that started for me last year (though this will probably be my last time on Semester at Sea). It’s my favorite picture from the voyage and one of my favorite times at sea. For two hours, nine of the girls I got closest to this summer spent time painting each others backs, swapping stories, memories, and things we learned. Everyone had a different country or experience that was the best in their minds, but everyone agreed that the entire voyage would be unforgettable.

So as Semester at Sea’s motto goes, “The World is Our Campus” and I’m excited to bring it back to Charlottesville.

Flippin’ Your Fins

My final day on land, before returning home to Boston, was spent walking about water. The last day In Portugal I visited the Lisbon Oceanarium. It’s no secret I love nature, but what you may not know is that although I am in the Commerce School and studying marketing, I used to be an Environmental Science major planning to concentrate in marine and terrestrial ecology. Unfortunately with the amount of labs I would need to complete, pairing the with the Comm School just wasn’t in the cards, but my love for ecosystems hasn’t changed (in fact, my favorite ecosystem is a Mangrove Forest.)

An Oceanarium is a collection of not just fish, but all marine species, including birds, mammals, fish, and other marine organisms. The main exhibit is a large tank in the middle of the Oceanarium with everything from starfish, to manta rays, to sharks, and even the largest bony fish, the Sunfish. Around the large tank in the middle are 4 different habitats: the North Atlantic rocky coast with puffins, and strange sharks in the water (in fact one jumped up at the glass and nearly took off my fingers that I careless left too close to the edge.) The Antarctic Coastline with penguins. The Temperate Pacific kelp forests with sea otters. And the Tropical Indian Coral Reefs with more colorful fish than the rainbow probably holds.

The best exhibit by far was the sea otter habitat. I decided that if I could be one animal, I would be a sea otter. They are incredibly cute, swimming about without a care in the world and even wave as if they enjoy the attention of spectators. Two of the sea otters, named Eusebio and Amalia, were clearly happy to see visitors as they did summersults and showed off how deep they could dive.

Since these creatures were my favorite that I saw, I can’t resis sharing some interesting facts about sea otters! Sea otters have an abnormally thick coat of fur, which is actually the densest in the animal kingdom. It has water resistant hairs that help regulate it’s body temperature and keep warmth trapped close to the body. It can dive fairly deep, because it usually forages for food on the sea floor, preying mostly on sea urchins, mollusks and crustaceans. Sea otters are incredible swimmers, partly because they can close their nostrils and ears, preventing any water from irritating them as they use their strong hind legs to propel them through the water. They can even swim at night because the long whiskers on their face act as feelers in the dark waters. Despite being great swimmers, sea otters send most of their time floating and flipping about on the surface, grooming themselves. As they do this, they tend to stick together in “rafts” 10-100 sea otters. To keep from floating out to sea, they wrap themselves up in sea kelp, or hold paws while sleeping. They are social animals, so I imagine we would get along quite nicely. Unfortunately, when I get back I don’t think there is room enough in my house at UVA to keep one as a pet.

Cork Convents

 I know I have mentioned this too many times, but the theme of Sintra as a fairytale keeps creeping up. Our first stop on day two in Sintra was to the Capuchos Convent. Founded in 1560 by 8 monks, the Capuchos Convent would be difficult to find if you weren’t looking for it. It idea of a Christian sanctuary tucked away in nature came to one of the monks in a dream. Embedded in between the Sintra mountains, the small cluster of houses and sacred spaces is made almost entirely out of cork. The doors, walls, ceiling were all soft to the touch because as the cork aged it became softer. The rooms and spaces are all influenced by the number 8, symbolizing infinity, but what is more peculiar is that every doorway and hallway is incredibly small. I felt like I was walking through the 7 dwarves home in Snow White. We were lucky we came early because we got to see the entire without any other visitors, contributing to the magic feel the place exuded.

We finished off Sintra in the early afternoon by trekking up the mountain a bit more to the Moorish Castle. It was originally built for the Moors, Spanish Muslims who escaped to Portugal. Though on a much smaller scale, the walls reminded me of the Great Wall in China. The walk, or hike (there were a lot of stairs) gave a great view of all of Sintra, and the Pena Palace. The only place we wanted to go, but were unable was the Pena Palace, but from what I hear, the outside view was the most spectacular part. Although the walk along the walls was great, with backpacks and the sun beating down on us, we decided to grab a taxi back to the train station after an hour or so. It was time to say goodbye to Sintra, and look forward to one last day in Portugal before heading back to the States.

Sold on Sintra

By the time the last country rolls around, I usually run out of money. Getting to Sintra was pretty cheap, only about 2-4 euros and the tourist attractions were affordable too, so the only expense was the hostel and food. We stayed in a nice EcoHostel called Alma, that I would recommend to anyone. After a long day of exploring the Quinta da Regaleria, we were exited to go back to our hostel with a bag of cheap groceries and vino verde wine, the local Portuguese sparkling white wine (my favorite of the trip). The hostel had 8 acres of land and grew all of it’s food including vegetables, grapes, and chickens. The water was fresh from a natural spring that ran down the mountain and kept the entire yard rich with nutrients for the overgrowing plants, ferns and flowers. Still feeling like I was living in a fairytale, even with no money I was sold on Sintra.

I learned in my Investing in a Sustainable Future class that wealth does not equal well being. That principle could not be closer to the truth. Without any money, that evening was by far one of my favorite memories of the trip. We took out our bread, cheese, and fruits from the grocery store and watched goats play in the field down the hill…saying it like that sounds kind of strange, but it felt like being back at home on a farm on a lazy summer afternoon. No obligations, just hanging out with friends. As the sun began to set we walked up a bit higher to the flower garden and found a small cleared patch to watch a beautiful sunset. Cracking open our bottles of vino verde, we chatted until dark and even stargazed until we couldn’t keep our eyes open. There was one more big day ahead of Sintra tomorrow.

 

Quaint Little Quinta

If I had millions of dollars, what would I do with it? Probably build a UNESCO World Heritage Site like the Quinta da Regaleira. One of the main attractions in Sintra, this palace is more like a fairyland than a residence. The romantic architecture mirrors the castles in Disney movies and the sun sparkles through the trees, giving every thing a glittering glow.

Built in 6 years by 1910 by Italian architect Luigi Manini, the castle itself encompasses Roman, Gothic, Renaissance, and Manueline architecture styles. On the outside it is completely stone, however the inside is covered in wood, including wood cherub babies sitting in the rafters. The paintings around the estate even look a little Disney cartoonish with bright colors, big eyes, and majestic scenes of knights, lords, and ladies, as if sleeping beauty herself used to grace the hallways. The palace had many quirks about it, including large lion door knockers for each entry way, secret passage ways, small spiral staircases, and my favorite, the library that give the illusion of thousands of books, but it was really covered in mirrors. The mansion was impressive, certainly a place I would have loved to live, though perhaps not with the owner. He was a man with a scowl and one very droopy eye… and for some reason did not ask the sculptor to fix it.

Even better than the palace, was the surrounding back yard. More like a park full of natural jungle gyms, we spent hours exploring the property. Every turn was a new things to check out, a lake, a grotto, a 7 story well… My favorite place we found could only be accessed by underground tunnels. The tunnels were dark, but were lined with twinkle lights that gave an eery mysterious feel as we trekked along underground. We popped out in one of the wells, but continued on until coming to an opening that displayed a natural waterfall and rock step bridge over a secret pond. The air was a bit damp, and the water cascading from the fall made a perfect hiding spot to sit and read…if only I had those few million dollar to make my own!

Originally we were going to hit up one or two more tourist sites in the afternoon around Sintra, but we ended up staying at the Quinta da Regaliera for 3 hours. If it wasn’t for my stomach grumbling, I probably would have opted to spend even more time, but I had to listen to the hunger. We went back into town to grab some groceries and stopped by a few local shops. The most notable visit was to another Ginja shop. Not everyone in the group of 3 other girls I was travelling with had tried it yet, so they took the opportunity of drinking it out of a chocolate cup (probably much better that way, no sprite needed.) The owner was very generous and even escorted us to the back to try “Angel’s Pee,” an almond-lemon liquour, that despite the name was incredibly delicious. But as we walked along, our feet got tired and our stomachs shouted as us once again, so we headed back to our hostel for the night to have a picnic for dinner.

Climbing Castles

I have to say, after Morocco I felt like I could skip Portugal and just head back to Boston. I didn’t know anything about the country except that Columbus sailed the ocean blue in 1492 from there. However stepping off the boat for the first time, my first impression was an immediate surprise. First off, the temperature was not in the 100’s but rather a warm 75 degrees with a light breeze. The sky was bright blue rather than a hazy desert grey, and the people were extremely friendly.

The first day in Portugal I stayed around Lisbon, the capital city. A few of my friends and I tried to figure out the train system, but the language barrier was much bigger than expected. Luckily the locals are incredibly friendly and were always willing to help. One guy even rode with us all the way to the center of town and led us to St. Jorge’s castle so we didn’t get lost.

St. Jorge’s castle is at the top of Lisbon with a great view that no one wants to miss. It is technically a tourist spot but citizens of Lisbon also live within the old walls. I can’t imagine living within the castle walls. Some of the parts had renaissance additions of minstrels playing flutes giving the castle a more authentic feel. I have to say, I had a blast climbing the walls, and can only imagine how much better it would be if I lived there and could see it at sunrise.

By noon we were famished from all the uphill climbing, so we stopped for lunch and pastries before heading to the Beer Museum. Much like Germany, Portugal is known for its beer and liquor culture. The Museum was fairly small, but we got a free clay mug and draft beer, and learned that the beer used to be made by monks! Also, we learned that much like in the 20’s in America, alcohol was outlawed in Portugal- although foreigners could still drink. When it was finally legal again, parties broke out everywhere…apparently that party never stopped because Lisbon lights up at night. It seems no one sleeps, but everyone walks around bar streets, no matter what day of the week.

The famous alcohol in Portugal in Ginja, a cherry liquor. Though not beer, we tried this as well at the Beer Museum. It tasted a bit more like medicinal cherry syrup than I would have liked, so we asked the bartender to cut it with water and then brilliantly we thought of adding sprite. It was so much better! We told the restaurant they should consider adding it to the menu, but they just laughed at us, saying Ginja was great on it’s own… maybe if you enjoyed cough syrup.

Though there is lots to do in Lisbon, I was ready to head out a bit farther to Sintra, a city 45 minutes away that apparently has more trees than people. I have been missing the wooded outdoors, so I couldn’t wait to trade in the pavement of the city, for the dirt of a hiking trail.

Meandering in the Medina

Though Marakesh is known for being a fairly modern city in Morocco, one of the highlights of the town is the Medina, the old part of the city. The Medina is a maze of streets filled with shops with homes scattered in between. Our last day in Marakesh was spent taking a guided tour through the Medina, which was great, because otherwise we definitely would have gotten lost. As we weaved in and out of the walls, we eventually were taken to a carpet shop.

The carpet shop was decorated by rugs of all shapes, sizes and colors, rolled up or sprawled out on the ground. Our entire group was corralled into one room where the shopkeepers spread out over thirty carpets on the ground. They explained that traditional Moroccan carpets have a looser weave that are much more plush to the touch, and the colors are more vibrant than in other parts of the world. Essentially, we were held captive until a few of us purchased carpets. So to pass the time, Skye got creative and tried flying a “magic carpet.” Everyone in the room stopped and stared and the shopkeepers almost fell out of their chairs laughing.

We walked through the rest of the Medina past iron workers, basket weavers, and other various crafts being made until we stopped at a homeopathic pharmacy. Only a few of us followed the guide into the back to listen to an explanation of which spices were not only good for cooking but also curing various ailments. The pharmacist had us sniff one product, Sanouje, that sorted burned the nostrils. It is supposed to be good for migraines, colds, asthma, and snoring. My favorite product they showed us however was the “magic lipstick.” It was a green substance that when applied on the lips turns to a bright pink color.

Our last stop in the Medina, and in Marakesh, was the square. The square was littered with various circus-like characters trying to scrape up a few coins for every picture a tourist took. Some of the interesting acts were monkey trainers and snake charmers. The monkey trainers had monkeys on chains that they would throw onto wandering tourists, but they seemed fairly harmless. The snake charmers however were much more worrisome. First off, the charmers would surprise passersby by wrapping snakes around their necks, and would coax cobras to dance by playing the flute. It would have been cool to have snakes hung like necklaces on my neck, like I did in Benin, if the snake charmers didn’t have massive bites all over their arms. That made the experience significantly more horrifying.

The last thing I wanted to do before I left to go back to Casablanca was get henna. In the square, most people were accosted by random women decorating henna on unwillingly tourists, however I found a lady and sat down excitedly. I got the brown henna because it was the most traditional, and only stays for one to two weeks. The black henna is supposed to stay longer, but I thought it would be a bit too dark, and I didn’t need to keep it for UVA. I’m glad I didn’t though because one girl came back with a swollen hand. The black henna has chemicals in it (not found in the brown henna) that reacted poorly with her skin and now sadly looks like a horrible burn in the design of the henna on her skin. The henna might have been cool, but I wouldn’t want a permanent reminder with a scar in the design of the henna.

Sahara Summer

Waking up in the middle of the Sahara desert threw me for a loop the second day in Morocco. I’m used to waking up freezing under the covers in my bed on the ship, but this morning I woke in a bit of a sweat, lying on top of my covers with all my clothes and shoes on from the day before. Still scared of the potential scorpions, I didn’t want to take any risks of finding them in my shoes or pile of clothes in my backpack. I went to the bathroom tent to brush my teeth with the bottle of water I had saved from the day before, and changed into another pair of Aladdin pants. Since Morocco is a strict Muslim country, women (and most men) have to cover both their knees and most of their arms. Although it was hot, it was good sun protection, so I didn’t mind. I was just glad I purchased enough pants in Turkey so I didn’t have to wear the same pair for the four days in Morocco. For the long sleeves I have to say props to Johnny for giving my a fishing shirt for my birthday, because not only was it light weight and breathable, but it didn’t show any sweat which other people had some troubles with. So if you’re ever heading to Morocoo- invest in some lightweight pants (preferably balloon pants) and fishing shirts, and you’ll be golden.

After a breakfast of bread and honey, the group was shuffled into 4 wheelers to head out even deeper into the desert. We bumped and jumped over the arid landscape, passing dunes, cliffs, and dried up caverns where it looks like water runs through when it (seldom) rains. Our first stop was a dam in the middle of nowhere. It’s fairly flat, so when villages appear it’s a great surprise. The dam was a vast man-made lake that held all of the water for the surrounding area during the summer months. It provided both drinking water and electricity, so no one was allowed to swim in it, but the temperature was reaching 116 degrees Fahrenheit, so it was pretty tempting to take a quick dip.

We continued on, the landscape changing rapidly from sandy desert to dry mountains. At the base of the mountain we were lucky to visit a Berber Village. These villages were mostly made of mud huts and housed extended families. The one we visited was strategically placed next to a small river. The entire village was self sustainable as they had all resources needed for survival- chickens, homegrown grapes, shelter, water, friends, family. True, the standard of living wasn’t quite what we were used to in the US, but each person we met was friendly and happy. I was so glad I took French in grade school because I was able to learn all about their home life by conversing in French. One woman of the house even taught us how to make traditional Moroccan tea- green tea mixed with lots of sugar and fresh mint.

In the afternoon we finally made it out of the desert and into Marakesh. We were given a bit of free time before dinner when we checked into our hotel, so we took that time to explore the city. Many of the shops are closed in the afternoon to prepare for the Ramadan feast, so there wasn’t much we could do, but it was fun to just walk around the city (even though it was so hot, it literally felt like we were sitting in an oven.)

Dinner was our final event of the evening. We had a large five-course meal of traditional Moroccan food. Again, everything was cooked in a tagine, rich with spices. The meal was great, but would not have been complete without the belly dancing show that accompanied it. All that I know of belly dancing is from Epcot center in Disneyworld and of one surprise show at a restaurant in Roanoke, so my impressions of belly dancing were skewed for sure, but the dancing in Morocco was on a whole other level. I had seen the costumes one could purchase in the markets, but I had no idea how skimpy they really were. The dancer that shook her hips and grabbed patrons to dance with her at this restaurant was scantily dressed and didn’t quite move in the traditional way of sexy stomach rolling. In fact, with the awkward promiscuity, everyone felt pretty uncomfortable. Thankfully the show didn’t last more than fifteen minutes. At the end of the dinner and show, it was 11pm and I was ready to hit the sack again, thankfully in a hotel where I wouldn’t have to check under my pillow at night. 

Camel Trekkin’

My trip to Morocco was one of my favorite experiences of Semester at Sea so far.

I never expected to find myself in the middle of the Sahara Desert, trekking through heat and sand on the hump of a camel. 3 hours to Marakesh, Morocco and the first place we stop is the camel taxi stand. I went on a Semester at Sea sponsored trip, so 48 other students hopped on the idle camels at the edge of the Sahara with me.

I don’t know much about camels, but I have heard they have a tendency to spit and can survive without water for four days. I didn’t really know what to expect riding along on my lumpy friend, but I found that camels are surprisingly active despite the lack of water. My camel, named Hadil, enjoyed bumping into the camel in front of me, chewing on the rider, and emitting loud dinosaur sounds that echoed off the dunes of the desert. Unfortunately I am not as good at retaining water as a camel, so I chugged as many water bottles as possible to combat the heat. This made for an uncomfortable ride, so to keep my mind off the water swishing around my stomach, I couldn’t stop from singing to myself, “my humps, my humps, my humps, my humps, check me out.”

An hour or two later we stopped at a lone castle like structure for some lunch in the late afternoon where we had our first Moroccan meal before continuing on the camels for a (thankfully) shorter trek. The ship had cleared later than expected, so our camel trek had started a little later than originally scheduled. In order to get to our evening destination, we needed to be flexible (the “f word” of the voyage). The camels would be too slow and riding them at night could be dangerous, especially with the wind kicking up at by dark. Instead, our guide arranged for us to take trucks.

After our lunch and short camel ride we met 2 trucks that the entire 48 of us were herded into. Turns out the trucks were usually used for transporting camels to and fro- in fact, we watched the animals we were just riding hitch a ride in identical vehicles- but this time the trucks would be transporting humans. Feeling like we were being smuggled across the border, we finally arrived at the nomad camp.

For the night, we were staying in the middle of the Sahara in a camp set up by nomads. Though it was clearly set up for tourists, we were literally walking on a red carpet laid down on the sand, the concept of sleeping in tents out in the middle of nowhere was both exhilarating and terrifying. Everyone was exhausted from the trek, so the pillows scattered about the floor were a welcomed comfort, along with the traditional Moroccan dance and music show. They offered many students to get up and dance with them, but I was particularly impressed with my brother, Skye, who was not only able to keep up with the pace, but looked great in the red hat the dancer insisted he wear.

After an extremely filling dinner, all out of traditional Moroccan tagine clay pots, I finally was able to retreat to my tent to sleep. The temperature had dropped from the low 100s to the upper 70s, so it was comfortable to get some rest before our next adventure tomorrow. I made sure to check under the covers and my pillow because I had been warned that scorpions often like to snuggle into bed with you, but they aren’t the best bunkmates. I didn’t even need to count camels, as I easily drifted off to sleep, extremely happy with my first impressions of Morocco.