The Smell--part deux

Those who know my books know that I don't write horror--just good historical mysteries, some with a touch of humor and romance. However I'm now in the middle of a horror story... bring in scary music.

It's called The Smell from the Purse. (raise level of scary music)

Two weeks ago I was in Morocco and they specialize in the loveliest leather you've ever seen--bright colored slippers and purses--hot pink, orange, lime green, turquoise. So I had to have one, even though I had been to the tannery and seen and smelled the process. Can you believe that the pelts are cleaned in vats of lye and pigeon droppings? I'm not making this up. There is an actual profession of keeping pigeons for their droppings in Morocco. And the bag smells as if it had spent its early life in such an environment.

And it wasn't as if I hadn't been warned. My friend Katherine Neville (she of those wonderful books The Eight and The Fire) knows Morocco well. The leather will smell, she told me. But did I listen? Noooo.  I saw this really cute purse, in this years bright orange and I bargained for it. It was only when I had it back in the hotel room that I noticed the lingering odour. So I sealed it in a plastic bag until I got home.

Then I asked for help on Twitter and Facebook. Got lots of wonderful advice--crumpled newspaper, baking soda, kitty litter, leaving out in the sun... all seem to be working. But I think the best tip was from a friend on the trip. He said "spray it with your favorite perfume so that if you smell anything, it will be that."  So I'm about to decide whether it should be L'air du Temps or Fidgi or Anais Anais  ... you see I have old fashioned taste in perfumes.  I'll let you know whether this works or not. I'm determined not to throw the purse away.

The Road From Morocco

I've been back a few hours and of course I can't sleep so I thought I'd better blog instead. Lovely trip and many memories to sort out and digest. Thoughts on Spain--they eat lunch and dinner so late because they are really on the wrong time zone. Geographically they are West of Greenwich Mean Time which would make them on a par with UK. But they have the same time as the rest of Western Europe so their noon is really only 10 a.m.  Hence if theyeat lunch and dinner by the sun they are correct. But I find it hard to wait until 9.30 p.m. for my evening meal!  Food was tasty and cheap. Loved the tapas and paella. Everyone in Spain eats masses of meat, especially pork (apparently because they had to prove that they weren't Jewish or Moslem during the Inquisition and it's stuck!)

You can get a litre of wine in the supermarket for 59 cents (didn't taste it so can't say how bad it was), but a beer or wine in a bar is only a couple of dollars. The restaurant where we ate dinner more than once always brought out free tapas to start the meal and on the last night mojitos as a gift to finish off our meal.

It is encouraging to see so many small dress and shoe shops can apparently make a living. Here they'd have been run off by Ross and Dress Barn. Clothes, I mean good clothes, horribly expensive. Spaniards love kids and make a big fuss of them. I'll never understand bull fights. Did you know the bull always dies? He can never be put in the bull ring a second time because bulls are smart and he'd know not to fight.

My favorite place was the Alhambra  (old Moorish castle) in Granada. So beautiful and the setting below the mountains is spectacular. Here's a picture:

Half our group got sick in Morocco. I survived well because I drank a lot of bottled water, cleaned my teeth in it and used my hand sanitizer religiously. The food tasted really good, especially the spicy soups with chic peas and the couscous. The big cities are actually modern and European and the roads are great, but here are some pictures of Fez and the old Medina:

This last is of the tannery, seen from a rooftop. The smell was unbearable and we were given mint sprigs to hold over our noses. The vats take the flesh and fur off the leather, then cure it and lastly dye it. I bought a leather purse and it still smells. Any suggestions for getting out the smell?
Now I need to catch up on sleep. More later.

Road to Morocco

Sorry I've been so silent lately. I've been touring around Southern Spain and Morocco and haven't had time to sit and blog. Today I'm at a lovely hotel in Marrakesh and have taken an afternoon off after several days of sightseeing.

Morocco is absolutely not what I expected: freedom of religion, women allowed to dress how they choose, free universities and hospitals, roads as good as Europe and beautiful modern hotels. I had expected narrow lanes and donkeys, which there are in the old cities, of course, but not this modern forward thinking country. We were apprehensive about going because of the bombing, but everywhere there are posters saying "Don't touch my country"--words of warning to terrorists.

I had hoped to have pictures, but haven't had time to download any yet. Next time, I promise. Off to Casablanca tomorrow so that I can say "Here's looking at you, kid!"