Like a Dream: Hot Air Ballooning in Cappadocia

I had a dream where before the break of dawn I was whisked away deep into a valley in Cappadocia. When we slowed down, all around were canvases rising like so many lumps of dough. My heart beat faster. The car stopped. We scrambled out and I entered the basket. It was chilly outside, the sun had not yet risen. But there was fire above me, a fire that would soon lift the ground out from under my feet. The fire filled the canvassed balloon with hot air and soon I was airborne!

The landscape of Cappadocia is magical at eye level, or from mountain tops, but it is most haunting from a bird's eye view. We weren't alone that morning. As the sun rose over the chiseled hilltops, balloons populated the sky.

Seconds later, which I am assured was a full hour (but really, who can assure anything in dream-time?), we landed and the dream came to an end.

"Real and unreal, beautiful and strange, like a dream. It got me high as a kite, but it didn’t last long enough. It ended too soon and left nothing behind...That’s how it is with dreams...They’re the perfect crime.” - Tom Robbins

Berlin: My New Home

I've decided that I am moving to Berlin.

Berlin is acceptance, in the way that it has moved on from its past and wholly transformed its social fabric. It is Asian food at every street corner. It is art working its way into every crevice. And finally, Berlin is extremely libatious... just the way I like it.

I spent one day visiting every tourist trap available in Berlin and then four days soaking it all in and wishing that I would never have to leave. 

Essence of Essaouira

Salt-swept sun-soaked facades line the dirt paths of Essaouira. The wind at times whispers and at times whips through the streets. Against the white stripped walls are stark shades of blue, young and old, painted on every surface: doors, window panes, awnings, table cloths, chairs, gates, clothes.

Even before the eye falters from the blinding light, the nose takes over. Smells waft from alleyways. On Ave de l'Istiqlal, salty grilled seafood; Rue de la Skala, curries; Place Moulay Hassan, baked sweets. The scents linger like hawkers from the Souks pushing their wares, "Scarves? You like? Nice price. Come, look, see."

The wind dominates conversation, muting sounds other than its own. When the wind stops, the hush of heat reigns.

Essaouira is a beautiful, magical place. A city of cheap seafood, slowed pace of living, wind, and sea. Full of food for the senses. I am in love with the essence of Essaouira.

Ohayogozaimasu Marrakech

Pop quiz: where in the world can you hear more Japanese than in Japan?

Answer: as an Asian in Marrakesh

The last few days in Marrakesh have been a melding pot of dusty roads, various Asian languages (all the street vendors seem to know some Japanese, Chinese, Korean, you name it, that they willingly test out on a passing Asian tourist), trinket lined walls, and deliciously fragrant foods. A very hot melding pot. The temperature the day we arrived was 46 degrees Celsius, or 116 degrees Fahrenheit.

R and I spent yesterday wandering the streets and popping into a few touristy locations - palaces, tombs, plazas. We also wandered into the souk, and wandered and wandered. The souk is a labyrinth of shops and vendors that has to be experienced to be believed. In the evening we had a (unintentionally) romantic dinner at Pepe Nero, a swanky Moroccon-Italian restaurant.

Today we took a different approach, a full day dedicated to cooking! I'll let the images explain how that went.

We started off by blind-identifying all of the spices by smell
I would say R and I failed that

I've got Ray Ban Vision... I-I-I can't see, I-I-I-I can't see
Sharpied out raybans for blind smell tests

The cooking station with a traditional tagine pot and spices

R can't handle the amount of fun he's having

Our veal with artichoke, lemon, and peas tagine
(Mine on the left, R's on the right)

The whole shebang - we made the bread and tagine
Both were yums

Two interesting tidbits. One, another student (out of five) was also a recent Harvard graduate now working at BCG Boston. Two, nutmeg is 20x as effective as cocaine. 20x the high, 20x the crash.