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An area that so fascinated me that I wrote my university thesis about it: the Western Sahara is one of the little-known dormant conflict areas of the world. Originally the Rio de Oro that belonged to Spain, domestic issues in Spain under Franco meant that they needed to rapidly divulge themselves of this territory, and in 1975, in entered Morocco. At times claimed by Mauritania, Morocco, Algeria, Mali and itself (independence), despite Morocco's staunch claim of ownership, officially it's status is currently unresolved and has a UN mandate renewed each year: it is a stalemate as the various parties involved cannot agree on the status of voters for a referendum. Many Sahrawis live in camps just across the walled border with Algeria but Morocco controls it, and it is one of the most interesting and unusual places I've ever visited!
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When I went in 2001, I traveled by land the 1000 or so kilometers and was astounded that the entire trip there were really only two very small settlements in the entire area - Layoune and Dakhla. The rest is barren, stark desert meeting the sea. There are no rivers, there are no mountains, just dunes, cliffs, wind and a feeling of having dropped off the end of the world. We traveled by bus, and at various stages of the 8-hour journey between the two cities, there were military checkpoints -- little more than small brick huts, really. All the foreigners got off the bus (my American friend and I, a couple of Mauritanians, a Malian) and our information was recorded in a little book. So remote was the outpost that the man at the checkpoint could not read or write Latin lettering (only Arabic), despite the fact that Moroccans are typically very well educated in French, and I had to write our names for him.
I dream of going back in a 4WD and camping on the beach, and exploring the hundreds of shipwrecks that are the only landmarks on the beaches, victims of the extreme currents caused by the Atlantic stream being channeled between the Canary Islands and the North African coast. The Western Sahara doesn't have much, really: its resources are its rich fishing grounds (A Korean fish processing factory was the only building not in the two towns) which it leases to foreign vessels, and phosphorus, a primary ingredient in fertilizers. Recently, bohemian travelers are adopting
Dakhla, in particular, as a destination for kite-surfing (it made the New York Times list of
45 places to visit in 2012).
Apologies for the grainy film photos -- crops of scans never look very good!
Here's a passage I wrote years ago:
After having finished a year of
study in Morocco, studied the politics and history of the Western Sahara
extensively, I decided it would be unfair not to visit. I heard friends say how
boring and uninteresting the trip down was, but that was probably the thing I
wanted to see most… the emptiness. I planned my trip by jumping right in:
flying from Casa to Dakhla, as far south as civilians could go.
The first thing to notice (and you
can tell this by looking at a map is how little of the Sahara is really populated.
Two “cities”, really more like frontier towns, Dakhla and Layoune, and a town
half way, Boujdour, to break up the monotony of flat desert. The landscape
truly reflects the nomadic history and nature of the people. In the
restrictions of a tourist trip and limitations of a student budget, I only had relatively few small glimpses of this region and people—an American educated
young Saharwi on the plane who showed us around and welcomed us, taking us to
an enormous fishing factory (among many, this one was Korean and Moroccan
owned). Endless flat, straight roads of sand, desert and coast, 7 or 8 road
checkpoints, where the attendants spoke no English and very little French (the
same as everyone else on the bus). They could barely copy the lettering of our
name, birthplace and nationality while he (always male) asked in Arabic if we
were married (and did we want to be?) and why on earth we would journey to the
Sahara? Two single white women when so few Moroccans ever venture so far south. I
saw remnants of a Spanish culture only peeking through in the architecture and
place names (Arabic is the only strong colonization that’s ever lasted here). I
saw an endless flat very dry landscape along a rugged, wild Atlantic coast
which wasn’t broken by a single hill or tree until leaving the “super south”
(disputed area).
The women’s Saharwi clothing named
-------- was appropriate for sandstorms and heat. Yet the May weather I saw was not
desert-like at all—it was actually quite cool in the evenings—perhaps a sea
breeze? Looking out to sea—perhaps the Canary Islands could be seen on a clear
day? I saw little of the famed high sand wall, though I did meet with a French
UN guy in an email café/cyber shop, and saw many UN vans (it’s still patrolled
by peacekeeping forces). Someone told me there’s a Korean restaurant somewhere
in the middle of nowhere—and for all I know they’re probably right! Not that I
saw anything but camel-crossing signs and men swarthed in blue robes and ties.
I spoke politics with few or no
man, but every Northern Moroccan had to reaffirm how much the Western Sahara
was theirs and Polisario did not exist (maps depicting a divided country are
illegal in Morocco). While large land-wise, the population is comparatively
small—numbering a few hundred thousand at most—but industries include the newly
discovered phosphorus (which Morocco will never relinquish), and fishing (an
industry so large that Morocco wants to fishing sell rights to European
fisherman so that they can get as much from a seemingly bottomless source).
Really, there isn’t much there—but that is the beauty of it—a truly untouched,
unseen, little-known Sahara land. It’s future is unknown but currently it is
stable.
If Colombia has been famous for anything in the past it would probably be drug lords and Fernando Botero, the painter. Both of these are not from the capital, Bogota, but from a city with a far better climate: Medellin. Pronounced Me-de-jean (rather like Billie Jean!) with the Colombian accented double 'l', for many years it was dangerous and unkempt, infamous for drug murders and gang control. However, like the rest of Colombia's emergence from an insecure past, Medellin has blossomed into what many visitors have to describe as their favorite Colombian city.
When I was a child, there were few places as exotic as Hong Kong... the familiarity of being British and yet also fast pasted Chinese, with capitalism, expat lifestyles, high rises, and shopping! My mother tells the stories of her first visit in the 1960s when the harbor was full of junks and it was a poor if lively place, but it is high class, chic and sophisticated today. 
Other than transiting through the airport, I visited in 1997, just before handover, on my way back from Africa, and stayed in a hostel way up on the hill. We landed in the old airport, where planes had to bank a sharp turn to avoid the sky scrapers and hills, and it felt like you would land in the harbor itself. The new airport is of course, luxury impersonated, but I didn't enjoy walking forever!
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An area that so fascinated me that I wrote my university thesis about it: the Western Sahara is one of the little-known dormant conflict areas of the world. Originally the Rio de Oro that belonged to Spain, domestic issues in Spain under Franco meant that they needed to rapidly divulge themselves of this territory, and in 1975, in entered Morocco. At times claimed by Mauritania, Morocco, Algeria, Mali and itself (independence), despite Morocco's staunch claim of ownership, officially it's status is currently unresolved and has a UN mandate renewed each year: it is a stalemate as the various parties involved cannot agree on the status of voters for a referendum. Many Sahrawis live in camps just across the walled border with Algeria but Morocco controls it, and it is one of the most interesting and unusual places I've ever visited!.JPG)
When I went in 2001, I traveled by land the 1000 or so kilometers and was astounded that the entire trip there were really only two very small settlements in the entire area - Layoune and Dakhla. The rest is barren, stark desert meeting the sea. There are no rivers, there are no mountains, just dunes, cliffs, wind and a feeling of having dropped off the end of the world. We traveled by bus, and at various stages of the 8-hour journey between the two cities, there were military checkpoints -- little more than small brick huts, really. All the foreigners got off the bus (my American friend and I, a couple of Mauritanians, a Malian) and our information was recorded in a little book. So remote was the outpost that the man at the checkpoint could not read or write Latin lettering (only Arabic), despite the fact that Moroccans are typically very well educated in French, and I had to write our names for him.
In the mountains up from Krakow, where you can stand on top of a mountain and look down into valleys of both Poland and Slovakia is beautiful Zakopane.
The pine covered mountains offer super walking trails and ski fields, and one of the popular pastimes is to take a sleigh up one mountain, to end up eating delicious Polish sausages and drinking mulled wine! A sleigh is romantic wonder -- imagining you hear the bells of Santa's reindeer, warming your hands under the thick pelt over your knees, snuggling up to your companions! In summer, they change to carriages and it's just as fun.
The center of the Baltic states, Latvia has passed under many flags in its long history, and the city's architecture and museums reflect it's varied heritage. Whether viewing the city from the top of the church tower, wandering along the Daugava River or meandering through the quaint cobbled old lanes, the colors and styles are charming.
