Over the hills, under the moon - and off the beaten path

Every Tuesday, the people from the small villages on the slopes of the High Atlas mountains, come down to the city of Amizmiz. Here they sell their goods and shop for the necessities for the week to come. For the past few weeks we've been living just half an hour from Amizmiz and we've enjoyed visiting the busy weekly market with its farmers, traders, weavers, and ceramists. The people of the Amazigh (what outsiders call the Berbers) are the descendants of the pre-Arab population of the Sahara, and Amazigh culture stretches back at least 4000 years.  They created several kingdoms before the Arabs made their conquests in the 7th century. During the following centuries of Islamization,  the language and the culture of the Amazigh almost disappeared until the French took over Morocco just before the first World War. The French used the distinction between the Arab majority and the indigenous people in the mountains as a way of  'Dividin...

  When Michael and I plan our travels, I'm always looking forward to the cooking. I love making meals inspired by what you see and taste in a local market. I cooked in Hanoi, on Bali, in the favela in Rio, in Paris. I try to cook everywhere, having my own take on some of the local dishes. Here, in the Moroccan riad, I wanted to do the same at least a few times a week, but I soon found out even relative simpel cooking is difficult to plan, when you're living way out in a desert.  You can't pop into a local shop, whenever you find out you need an ingredient. Here every buy has to be planned ahead and brought home by taxi. But still, I needed to try my hands in a Moroccan kitchen and I asked Fatima, a local cook, who was hired to make most of our meals, if I could help her preparing. The common way of cooking in the Berber communities, has for many centuries been doing tagines - dishes named after the earthenware pot in which they are cooked A tagine consist...

The sun is setting on our first day in Morocco. The Mu'addhin has just recited the Adhan, the call for prayer, from the pink minaret of the village mosque about two hundred yards away. - La ilaha, ill llah, muhammadun rasulu llah. There is no god but Allah. Muhammad is the messenger of Allah. The almost wailing voice marks that the day is about to end. We now live in Tizfrite, a small Berber village on the vast Saharan desert plain that stretches towards the High Atlas Mountains. Here, we're planning to stay for the next month, but this year has taught us that plans can change! We should actually have started 2018 with three months in Hong Kong. Everything was planned, the air tickets bought, the flat in Hong Kong rented, our flat in Copenhagen sublet. And then  I had a nasty fall, which almost destroyed my knee. Instead of strolling through Chinese alleys and markets, we went to our house in the south of France, where I ...

Who ARE our neighbors here on Cap Ferrat? Actually, these days, you don't find movie stars or glitzy celebrities - just the garden variety of usually Eastern European billionaires (with Paul Allen of Microsoft as one of the few Western exceptions). And, yes, President Putin of Russia, should, as far as the locals know, own one of the secluded palaces. No one knows exactly where it is.  Or they will not tell. When you're living on the Cap, you appreciate discretion! In the old days it used to be different and one of the few houses, which are actually visible from the outside, has experienced all the glitz you can dream of. The Fleur du Cap, lying just next to the bay, was once owned by Chaplin, and later, for many years, it was the home of the British actor David Niven. Standing on the small beach just next to the house, you can easily imagine the marvelous Old Hollywood parties, which have taken place over the years. Another famous and e...

The last week has been like a jump through a rabbit hole. A few days ago, we lived in Paris, in the poor, black neighborhood of Goutte d'Or. And now - here we are - living on Cap Ferrat, the peninsula of the billionaires, where the property value is supposed to be the highest in the entire world next to Monaco. While our neighbors in the Parisian 'Little Africa' were up close and personal, filling the alleys, the cafes, and the open-air markets, the extreme richness of the Cap is very much more secluded. Discretion is key on the Cap, and as an example, you don't see any Lamborghinis or Ferraris in the streets as you would in Saint Tropez, where the less wealthy (and much more flamboyant) playboys are hanging out. If the billionaires on the Cap are collecting expensive automobiles, they might be stowed away in some underground garages - and you can't get any idea of the life being lived in the villas, as they are completely hidden on vast grounds beh...

There are so many places to see in Paris, but the months of July and August are not the season for music venues, galleries, and crowded local bars, as many Parisians have left the city for the summer. We did explore some and here are a few of our best finds, even though many were pretty empty compared to how they will be this coming autumn and winter. The north One marvelous, huge arts center we happened to pass by was the Le Centquatre in Rue Curial. It was almost empty when we visited, but the industrial-type architecture is impressive even without the throngs of visitors, which, we were told,  are filling the building during the non-summer months. La REcyclerie in the former Gare Ornano at the Porte de Clignancourt is situated at the absolute perimeter of the touristic Paris, but it is well worth a visit - and not only for eco-warriors and the globally conscious. Here everything is - yes - recycled and you can...

    - This is the end, my only friend, the end. Of our elaborate plans, the end. Of everything that stands, the end... The lyrics come to mind as we stand next to   the grave of Jim Morrison  in the poetic Cimetière Père Lachaise.   It's late afternoon and  the last rays of the sun find their way around the gravestones, the pillars and monuments in all kind of shapes which comprise the largest cemetery in the city of Paris, where more than a million souls are put to rest.   Pyramids, towering monuments, elaborate miniature chapels and beautifully carved lime and granite headstones display the history of death as we walk through the yard.  Some could almost serve as inspiration for horror films like the one, where a pair of bare arms stretch up through the lid of a closed sarcophagus or the one, where  a bronze corpse try to slither  through the cra...

  Whenever we visit Paris, we tend to stay in the Butte Montmartre area, but this time we've borrowed an apartment in Rue des Poissonnieres, which, even though we're still in the 18. arrondissement, could better be placed somewhere in the sub-Saharan Africa. The surrounding  area, Goutte d'Or, is a multitude of exotic grocery shops, beauty stores, fabric stalls and hallal butchers and the streets are filled with stout, black men and women dressed in colorful kaftans and flat kufi hats. We've now lived in the area for several weeks and we enjoy it a lot At the small  market in Rue Dejean you find fishmongers selling capitaines and other exotic ciclids from Senegal - and at the green groceries you find an abundance of plantains and sweet potatoes Some Parisians think of 'Petit Afrique' as a dangerous no-go zone, but besides meeting an occasional, heavily armed police patrol, we've in the last few weeks only encountered joy and kindness when...