Ferry from Spain to Morocco

Our flight brought us as near to Morocco as any 1 penny flight could have done. After delivering us to Jerez De La Frontera, Spain, we must now travel further south, by land and sea, and ultimately out of Europe. Crossing the narrow straits of Gibraltar, we leave Spain in good spirit and turn our thoughts toward our arrival in the Port of Tangier, Morocco. Read more

Innovations

We washed our first Spanish meal down with a local Sherry, and by god it tasted good. I didn’t realise that Sherry actually came from Jerez until the flight over – I leart that particular gem in the Ryanair in-flight magazine. The actual article was squeezed in between one listing 5 interesting tips to help make an oversized arse more socially acceptable (were talking human backsides here, not British Prime Ministers) and another telling you all you needed to know about cheap boob-jobs in Krakow, Poland (but were too afraid to ask). And, as tempted as I was to nip over to Poland, get two new friends, enjoy them for a fortnight and then get them removed before a flight back to England (all for less than the price of a mediocre stereo system, I must add), I flipped the page and searched for further diversion.

I quickly found the ‘Innovations’ catalogue nestled in the centre of the mag. This pleased me no end as I have a particular, and slightly dark, fascination when it comes to these types of ridiculous inventions – the types that we all poo-poo and point at when in the company of others – like the revolutionary new product for runners with damaged hips that, when they are sprayed with Eezee-Jogg (or some other such concoction similarly littered with intended spelling mistakes), will work even better than after a full ball and socket replacement. We all share the sardonic shake of the head and derisory tssk, but each time we turn away and secretly think ‘Why didn’t I think of that? Something like that is sure to come in really handy one day …’

In years to come it’ll be ‘Lauren, dear, Song of Praise has finished, but I still can’t get out of the armchair. Pass the Eezee-Jogg will you, dear?’ I can picture it now. I still maintain that these inventions could possibly have their uses. Well, most of them. Ok, all of them. You don’t need to say it, or even think it, I already know. Yellow Pages, under ‘S’ for Support Groups.

Well, my secret is out now and it’s a real weight off my mind. The in-flight reading wasn’t the only good thing about the Ryan Air flight; after our landing safely the pilot also played a positively cheery fanfare over the intercom. I’m serious. As bizarre as it seemed at the time, we certainly considered it a nice finishing touch and will no doubt be raping our planet with Ryan Air again soon– especially if more penny flights are involved, and even if Stanstead Airport is closer to Reykjavik than it is to London.
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Viva Jerez

Although the12 hour journey between Plymouth and Jerez De La Frontera ensured a late arrival in Spain, it still left us with enthusiasm sufficient to take in the first sights and smells of our new city. Soon, we traded bright lights and bustling activity of the main street in favour of the dustbins and double parking on several of its ever decreasing arteries. We swept through the backstreets in search of a cheapo room.

With a room secured we headed back out to search for nuts and berries – but only out as far as the eatery down the road. Tables were chock full of locals (a great sign for the cautious grazer) and enveloped in a hazy blue cloak (a great sign for the smokers among us) – this was to be our first taste of Jerez and first meal of the trip, we hoped for great things. Also, less surprisingly, we plumped for the 8 Euro, 3 course, vagrant special. With beer.

While Lauren deftly picked through her main course of fish, I continued to turn my plate to every conceivable angle to suss out the best way to attack my own lucky dip dinner. Pork. Now, I’ll be the first one to declare my love for all foods pig based, but only when delivered in sensible quantities. This particular portion was phenomenal bordering on insane. Initially excited, and almost aroused, by the prospect of such value for money, my appetite waned when faced with the actual mechanics behind the epicurean fantasy. I have never seen such a huge mass of meat in one area, let alone served up in its entirety to one human being. Ever. Apparently, this particular pork dish is an area speciality.

“The secret is in the preparation”, the waiter confided.

Glancing over his shoulder and then leaning closer he continued,”You see, they operate on the little piggies. They round up the piglets just after birth and they sew them together – they fuse them.”

“The piglets grow to be big piggies, and us – the proud people of Jerez de la Frontera – we are then blessed with yet another 8 legged super-pig.”

“Then” he continued with boundless enthusiasm “using an industrial logging saw we cut the now-not-so-little piggies long ways into 4 super-chops, we then airlift them back to the restaurant and serve them on these reinforced tables. You like? Yes?”

Well…that’s not really true…I made that bit up. But, after getting up close and personal with the European Pork Reserve, I know that if someone had actually told me that – I would’ve believed them.

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London Stanstead

So much for the flurry of posts about packing and planning for our forthcoming Morocco trip…Those posts became yet another casualty of my inability to plan effectively, as did the in-depth preparation for the Moroccan Adventure. To be frank, our preparation began at 10:00 PM, with the flight out being the next day. But, for any of those vaguely interested in the preparation and planning behind this trip, this is it in quickie format for those of you with busy lives:- Read more

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