Ride to the Kasbah

 Tuesday March 18


We were met in the morning by a local guide to lead us on a two-hour bike ride through the neighbourhood. The way was rough, with lots of bone-shaking gravel, uneven paths, rutted dried mud. But it sure felt good to ride, a change from all the walking we’d been doing.

 

 

We passed through neighbourhoods broken to rubble by the earthquake of 2023, the one that made the news around the world. The people able to replace their homes abandoned the customary adobe construction of mud and straw, building new houses with concrete bricks. I wonder how this will change the the look of Morocco with its rose-coloured cities and villages.

Putting our feet down on narrow paths with sharp corners to navigate

Our destination was the Ameridhl Kasbah, a privately maintained fortress home once belonging to a wealthy family. Our guide was highly knowledgeable in the history of the place. We saw olive presses and old kitchens (there were four of them); we climbed through the several storeys of the building; we took in the view of both the courtyard with its fountain and the outside, with the remains of the neighbouring Ksar. We learned that a Kasbah is a wealthy fortified home, and a Ksar is a neighbourhood, also protected by walls.

Courtyard

Sitting room

 

One of four kitchens, spread out for security and warmth

Another kitchen

And another

Complex construction

Sign of the Amazigh

This approximates the view depicted on the 50-dirham note, the kasbah as a symbol of Moroccan heritage

We were there!

Traditional olive press

Amal picked us up at the Kasbah -- enough of rough riding! -- to take us back to Sawadi for lunch.

Moroccan salad: finely chopped tomatoes, cucumbers, and a bit of onion, with olive oil and lemon vinegar. Don't eat the flower!

 

A mostly demolished Berber omelet

We were free for the afternoon to hang out at the Ecolodge. We explored the farm, just barely begun to come to life at the end of winter.

 

Olive trees being watered

 

 

The hammam, just behind the lounge chairs

And then, most of us opted to partake in the hammam that was offered there.

Hammams, in their traditional form, are public baths. In times when water was not available in private homes, the hammam was where people washed. The last hammam I experienced was in Istanbul, back in 1972. It was a building many hundreds of years old, with marble interiors where we lounged naked for what seemed like hours, where someone would come along now and then to pour hot water over us. We were scrubbed, by equally naked hammam women, and the skin rolled off in black ribbons. We were gently massaged with scented oil. The guys, I remember, said the massage they got was anything but gentle. They were in the men’s section, of course, nowhere near the women.

The hammam at Sawadi is meant for two people at most. We went individually into the little steam room, where a not-naked woman scoured every inch of our bodies. I started off wearing underwear, but it was evident within the first minute, that that was ridiculous, so there I was, naked. This woman toiled vigorously over me. It seemed like such an act of love, one woman caring for another. And the skin rolled off in ribbons, again. This time, not black; I haven’t been travelling for eight months, like I had been back then, more than fifty years ago. 

We were, all of us who participated, blissed out for dinner. 

Sue’s birthday today! Mariam and Amal used the kitchen (pretty sure that’s what happened; these kitchens seem to be open to outsiders cooking in them) to make a cake, complete with candles. Happy Birthday, Sue!

Not a Moroccan cake, for sure!

 

 Today's ride

 

Relive '03/17/26'

The Final Full Day

 June 6, 2025

Breakfast was at 7 am today. The time has been creeping earlier in the last few days, tied to the needs of the port. We had to be off the ship by 8:15 so that it could get out of the way so that Party Ship could leave and disturb another harbour somewhere. 

We rode some 18 km across Solta island to a gorgeous beach in the fishing (and tourist) village of Maslinica. There was a long climb to start, but it wasn’t steep, and, well, I didn’t really even get my heart rate up. The folks on regular bikes enjoyed the workout. Yep. Other than that hill, the ride took us through rolling, stony landscape with many olive groves (they call them “olive woods” here), and we skirted around a number of villages. There wasn’t much traffic, but what there was, was in a huge hurry to get somewhere. I’ve learned to leave a big gap between me and the next person in front, because I figure if a crazy driver was passing on a curve and encountered a vehicle coming the other way, they’d mow down a few cyclists rather than risk a head-on collision. I give them space to pull back into their own lane. 

E-bikers wait at the top of the hill for the real cyclists

At Maslinica, some people chose to swim, while others of us had coffee at a beach café. We have learned to order it extra hot, meaning almost warm. But delicious. I did get my toes wet, stepping off the rocky beach. I brought my flipflops for the purpose — you can’t walk barefoot on this stuff.

A beach to ourselves, at 9:30 am

Most Croatian beaches are made of this stuff. You can't walk barefoot here!

What a spot for a Café Latte!

Return to Stomorska. Our ship, the Mali Ante, is in the middle of the photo

Change the camera angle to see what the promo photos don't show: huts for the otherwise homeless

 

We rode back to our boat, and set sail to Split, visible across the strait from Stomorska.

 

Approaching Split. Those palm trees mark the Riva, the grand promenade

 

Lunch today was a special one, of course, being the last one. Our lunches before now were served on large, rectangular platters, delivered to each table of four. First course, some variation of salad, a charcuterie, pasta, or risotto, then second course, an artistically displayed platter of MEAT, veggies, and some form of starch if first course wasn’t pasta or risotto. That was followed by dessert, usually a concoction too sweet for me, but once we had a beautiful light pastry filled with blueberries and apples. 

Today was different. The platters, each with a different dish, were all laid out on the central island of the dining room, and it was like a reprisal of many of the things we’d had during the week. It was a brilliant idea, a chance to remember all the flavours we’d enjoyed. It was, and has been all along, obvious that the chef loves to please people with food. He leans out the low window to his kitchen and watches us, every meal, with a smile on his face. 

What a spread!

Chef and souschef

Dessert today was panna cotta — I like that! — and that was followed by champagne for all, compliments of the crew. Lots of photos, lots of expressions of appreciation. Some threats of mutiny, because we figure we could overcome the captain and crew, and just keep this journey going. It can’t be that hard steer a huge boat into place in harbour, right? Without doing any damage? 

The final goodbye

Bettyanne, Carol, and I stepped out into the blazing sun of Split and wandered through Diocletian’s Palace, which we hadn’t really explored well on the previous pass through town. We mostly sought the narrow streets that offered shade, relief from the heat, and also relief from the crowds. It was a bit of a shock to be back in the melée. While tourists seem to have discovered all the crannies of Croatia, most of them swarm Dubrovnik and Split. We felt visible outside of these cities. Here, we became part of a seething mass.

The crowds huddle in the shade...

...but it's not hard to get away

So. Many. Boats.

This is how we line up in port. The pier is on the left. Our ship is 6th from the pier. We walk across 5 other boats to get to shore. Some ships are designed with central passageways for this purpose, while others, we had to wind around the bow or the back to get to the other side.

Another shot of the same lineup. The bikes had been dropped off at a different pier before docking here.

Every week, the bikes are taken off the ship to be serviced, and traded for new ones

Along the Riva, Split’s waterfront promenade, there are benches set under palm trees. Most are in the sun, but if you’re quick, you can snag one in the shade as someone vacates it. We managed that, and sat, watching people and boats and just passing the time. Then we went back to the boat to mingle, to rest, and to start packing up. One more night on the boat before we head our separate ways. 

The Canadian 8 decided on pizza for dinner. The Pender 3 shared two meat-free pizzas between us, the best of the two being one with truffles and pesto. It might be worth returning to Split one day, just for that pizza.

The Picasso Pizzeria, and demolished pizzas

The Pender 3 plus Jane went for a walk for a kilometre or two along the harbour. It was party city there, at all the cafés and bars, but it was cool, and the lights were dancing off the sea, and it felt good to just walk without destination in the cool evening air.

The Riva

Today's kitty, in Stomorska:

Krka National Park

June 5, 2025

 

We started the day with a short but beautiful sail from Sibenik, through narrow channels between rocky hills, to Skradin, at the edge of Krka National Park. From there, we cycled just 5 km into the park itself, mostly on rough gravel. It was a challenging ride demanding considerable concentration, and a couple of riders crashed but not seriously.

Skradin: yachts, bikes, and fisherman

 

The smooth part of the gravel road. I didn't dare stop to take a photo on the rough part

 

We spent a couple of hours in the park, walking impeccably maintained stone paths and boardwalks by strings of waterfalls, and went crazy with our cameras (phones, of course, but in places like this I really miss my good camera.) Photos can't do justice to these falls. There's nothing like immersion.

We were there!

 

The lowest of a string of falls

 

Old water mill

 

Everything you need

 

Mill stones

The woodsy part of the park, running water all around

The frogs (toads?) were very busy, and very noisy at being busy (credit to Gill for the photo)

Refreshment stop in the park before tackling the gravel road again. Mallory, Carol, Robyn

Marvelous Miranda, our leader, talking with Ana, who brings up the rear and sweeps up the fallen riders

 

After the park, it was a sail back through the channels, and then 5-6 hours to our next port. (Lunch, nap, socialize, write.) On a swim stop along the way, I swam again! This time I stayed in for at least two minutes! The water was 23°, and quite comfortable, but I am simply not a water person, and while I could float on my back easily without moving, such was the buoyancy, I have this underlying, I dunno, fear of drowning. I did not join the others who tread water about a mile from the boat. (Yeah, yeah, I exaggerate.) But I was pleased with myself, nonetheless.

Carol, however, is a fish!

 

Jane and Cheryl are also fish

 

Lots of time to socialize today

That's beautiful Gill, our Scot cum honourable Canadian, with her head in shadow (sorry)

So much time to socialize, the whole gang was on the back deck!

 

We docked in a very sweet village of Stomorska on the island of Solta. Out for dinner, of course, where I had a massive bowl of seafood pasta — fresh pasta! So much for going lightly on food. I was starving. 

We wandered the waterfront after dinner, and met many cats beginning their evening prowl. Back at the ship, the tour boat we were tied next to was having a party, loud music echoing in the hills above the harbour, keeping everyone awake until after 11 pm. Yet another impact of tourism. (Yes, I know I’m one of the guilty.) 

 It's a two kitty day! 

Snagglepuss in Krka Park

 

In Stomorska, skinny cat: got any fish for me?