Maa Salaama Morocco, Hola España (10.12.07)

I hate to say it, but both Mom and I are ready for our time in Morocco to end. Even at the show last night we were dragging, and on this our last morning in Marrakesh neither of us could muster the energy for even a simple walk around the block. Mom wanted to take my temperature since I declined running over to the internet before we were to be met by Aziz to go by the post office and then onto the airport.
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Everything about the morning seemed to take an inordinate amount of energy, probably a consequence of both the heat and the expectation of rest. Aziz had borrowed the car of the hotels owner and took us down to the post office where we spent about 45 minutes getting my package mailed. Our assistant at the post office was a man licensed by the local authorities who assists people with their packages and in return is paid in tips. He was one of the few overweight men we have seen in Morocco (most of them seem to be in Marrakesh), but that didn´t stop him from hopping on his motorbike to go out to a store to buy plastic wrap and tape to seal up the suitcase containing all my treasures. We actually asked if Mom could ride with him, since she decided last night that she really wanted to ride a motorbike while she was in town, but we could tell from the conversation between Aziz and him that he really didn´t think it would be a good idea.
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We headed for the airport around 11:30 for our 1:30 flight, and during the drive Aziz explained song titles and pronunciations for a CD that he suggested that I get. He tried to find a copy from a street vendor while we were in the post office, but they were closed. Instead I will take the CD cover that he gave me and look around in Cairo. It was sad to leave Aziz at the airport. He parked and walked us in, and I am still feeling guilty that I could not give him more money as a tip for all the services he performed for us during the three weeks we were there. Unfortunately, I got out just enough money for the package and the tip, and then the package ended up costing more than I had figured. I particularly feel bad for Aziz because I know that he worked very had during this trip and I get the sense that he goes above and beyond what other trip leaders do (case in point...inviting the nomads for dinner in the second Saharan camp). Despite his hard work, I learned from him that one couple only gave him less than $60 between them as his tip. This is despite the fact that everything he did was on our behalf, though he occassionally had a gruff way of interacting. Thus, I felt even more horrible about my tip, though it was more than the recommended amount. I wanted to make up for those people that snubbed him.
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I was asleep before the plane backed away from the gate and was very annoyed when I woke up to find out that you have to buy every item from the concession cart on Iberia air. Neither of us had any euros, so I ended up getting a mouthful of water for 3 American dollars and spending the rest of the flight being very cranky (and dehydrated).
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We arrived in the enormous Madrid airport about 6:00 pm and Dad was waiting for us outside of customs. Of course he wasn´t interested in our flights or our health, and I couldn´t help chuckling on the inside that he wandered ahead complaining of all the hardships he had had renting the car and then making his way to our hotel in Toledo and back the day, while we both schlepped our own suitcases. Once we got into Toledo, a very charming medieval city of tiny cobbled roads and no signage in English, things got a little heated with Dad driving. He was cranky and stressed from driving. I was cranky, dehydrated, and a little sick of his brand of humor in which he says things like, ït sure would be a nicer vacation if you weren´t here, Chris,¨ in his version of charming. I was convinced I would be finding a hostel by the second night, but I am writing this on our second day and we are still three to a room at the Alonso VI hotel. The other interesting thing about Dad is that he assumes that everyone speaks English and talks to the desk clerks and the wait staff as if he is back in the States. I guess it works for him, but I desperately wish I had a phrase book on my part, since it would be good practice for me to brush up on my Spanish. It is funny though, that one can tell who the Spanish nationals are in the square without hearing them talk. All you have to do is look at them talking and they spend half the conversation with their tongues pressed up against their front teeth doing the Castillion lisp. :)
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We settled in and went down for dinner at a restaurant in the Hotel Carlos V. 8:30 turned out to be early for dinner in this area, but it suited us. After dinner I decided to grab the map and go for a post-prandial meander through the streets. I got lost about 8 times and the trek lasted significantly longer than expected, but it was still nice. Now that Dad has joined us though, the trip feels much lonelier for me. I have to share Mom as a travel companion and I am wondering how I am going to do by myself in Egypt and Dubai. Time will tell. The one thing I plan on doing in Dubai is getting rid of some of this backpacking clothing and buying one nice outfit. Compared to all these skinny, Prada-wearing, chain-smoking Europeans I look like a lumberjack in my zip-off pants and sneakers.