Wow! Did I really miss a month? It looks that way to me. Then again, I think I had the best intentions to write something and for whatever reason forgot to make the time as I transitioned to a well deserved two week vacation over the holidays.

That's right, I went traveling and vlogging. Really, they are one in the same. I don't think I can ever just travel. My urge to have a camera out and film what I see and provide commentary is too strong to pass up. Truly, when I was in Estonia, I got this vicious next cramp. 

I had no intentions of filming that first day, especially because it hurt with the simple turn of my neck, let alone when I would sit back on the couch. Talk about spasms galore - that I'm still dealing with weeks later. And yet, despite this physical setback, I had the camera out just in case. 

Of course, I thought I would simply film the Christmas Market in Tallinn. That turned into the square and then the side streets and eventually a full twenty minute vlog. It's compulsive at this stage. 

With the physical limitations I still found a way forward and how a wonderful, restful vacation exploring five different countries. I started in Malaga, Spain and went onto Lithuania where I explored Kaunas for the first time and then took the train to Vilnius (one of my favorite cities in Europe). 

Having been to Vilnius on two different occasions, I was eager to get back and explore the familiar streets and all those beautiful churches. Estonia was next on deck with visits to the capital Tallinn and then to my adopted favorite town of Parnu. Neither city let me down and I had fun, new adventures in each. 

My favorite moment was being back on the couch, sipping tea at the Hotel Victoria. I love that place and the ambiance in their dining area. It's truly the cafe experience I dreamed about. 

After leaving Estonia we returned to Riga for two nights - which was necessary to right the wrong from two plus years ago when I shortened my trip to one night because the city had too much going on for me. This time I really got a feel for the city and explored some areas I had wanted to see for quite some time. 

Lithuania called for a second act, so both Vilnius and Kaunas got me for another round of filming. Even though I got drenched to the bone in Kaunas, I finally stumbled across an old Jewish cemetery which made my entire trip. 

I ended vacation with two days in Liverpool, England. It's funny how I have such a pull to that part of the country. Southport, my usual stomping ground is something like a 20 minute train ride to the north. On this trip, I stay in the Beatles' home city and enjoyed every moment. I'll be back for sure. 

With my holiday travels now complete, two new vlogs are being released weekly on Sundays and Thursdays until mid February. In the meantime, while I settle back into my teaching routines, I'm writing (yes, I really am - 20,000 words put down in six days) and will give you a further update before my next trip to Provence, France around Valentine's Day.

I hope all of you are off to a good start to your 2025. Here's to a great year ahead in all areas of your life.

Cheers,

JFK

I planned to go to as many Christmas markets as possible for 2024 and for the most part I accomplished that goal. While Malaga had a Christmas light show, true markets were in Bergamo Italy, Kaunasand Vilnius Lithuania, and Tallinn Estonia. For those that can't get enough of the Christmas spirit, here are the vlogs from those markets and those cities.
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​Enjoy!

This post was supposed to be about my triumphant return to writing - yes, I had intended to do National Novel Writing Month. Last Friday night I even started a new novel. I surprised myself and began the first 1000 words of a post apocalyptic story. The story was dark and had the same brooding as Rusty Star and the Varissian Affair. 

I found the irony the new story would follow this same trend, when I had first considered writing a story about a man returning to the States for a family wedding. As I have not been to a wedding in years - seriously since my ill-fated courthouse nuptials more than a decade ago - I couldn't even tell you the last wedding I attended that wasn't in a Hallmark movie or TV show. It's been that long.

So the whole idea of writing about a wedding seemed a bit off-putting. The entire idea seemed more difficult than writing from a man's perspective on what life would be like if the world was at a turning point - you know only steps away from coming to an end. Throw me in the middle of the woods, in crappy weather, and some unknown power threatening all life for me to find any meaningful words to throw down on the computer.

This motivation drove Friday night, but when time came to start the next words on Saturday, I found myself drawn more to the next travel vlog, my next destination, and frankly how best to spend the Christmas holidays. 

For those looking for new books to read, it will happen eventually. While I thought Morocco would inspire me in multiple ways, daily living has been all that I can handle of late. My celebrations have consisted of waiting ten days for a new fleece blanket to arrive and for a shower curtain to replace the stained and grimy one that was left for my personal use in my overrated water view apartment.

Even pondering that fine move from the end of August, I've only lived in my current apartment for 2.5 months. It seems longer and yet shorter. There are still things I would add to make it feel like home, but due to the location, cost of goods, and motivation, I'm more like will any changes really make the space better? Will adding more rugs truly improve the space when I would rather add pictures to these cement walls. 

The poor finishing touches with sockets and lights bring me pause and yet there's nothing I can do when it takes ten days simply to get any repair done. There is no rush here - at least that's my impression. People are more concerned about daily living and what impacts their bottom line. Out of sight - out of mind. We've done this mentality before, but here in the northern tip of Africa, it seems to ring more true. 

I imagine I'll be back into a writing groove at some point this year and yet I can't tell you when. I'm looking forward to visiting new locations, experiencing Christmas markets once more, and to feeling the cool embrace of winter weather. That's my focal point. As the apartment adds more charms, maybe I'll shift and a new story will find itss way to print or not. 

Some of you might have wondered what happened to dear old Jonny boy. Don’t worry, I’m still among the living and for the most part settled in my humble abode here in Tangier. To say it’s been a bit of an adventure would be understating the fun of figuring out where to shop, eat, and truly where to live. 
When I visited in April, I was only here for 36 hours in an attempt to get a feel for the area and to decide whether it could be a suitable place to call home. Even then my impression was mixed. Compared to my native Northern New England, many areas are going to feel different. I tried to equate Tangier to my time in Brinidisi, Italy, but it’s not quite the same. 

This part of the world is unique to where I have ventured, explored, or lived.

There is no siesta time, the cars and motorcycles are in love and obsessed with their horns even when no one is in their direct path. Should there be traffic and no possible way forward, drivers will simply honk for good measure to see if other drivers want to join their queue of the disgruntled. I don’t think people actually sleep here. I have seen an equal amount of cars at 5 in the morning while running, enough that I need to actually look both ways and sometimes weave in and around the lanes to cross the road.  And yet by 6:30 am, it’s simply me, the cats, and the hungry dogs.

The many shops I pass on a daily basis are fun to observe. There are so many high end dress shops where the owners show off the latest fabrics and designs that are popular in this part of the world. If I was a fashionista or fashion forward in the least, let alone a woman, I’m sure I would be in and out of these spots. What surprised me were the number of fabric shops where people simply buy the pattern and the fabric to sew at home. My closed off mind thought this was only for those practicing Amish and Mormans.

More practical in mind -  I’ve been on the lookout for vitamins more than a suitable dress. I’m used to driving over to Wally World and buying a container of 1000 mg Vitamin C. Forced to find a viable alternative as they are not stocked in the local grocery stories has proven interesting. I can’t just order them online like I did in Poland and have them arrive the next day. Instead, I had to figure out which place was selling “actual” vitamins and not fake ones. 

Not wanting that hassle, after an hour or two of research, I caved and decided to just visit one of the many pharmacies. I had to talk to a physical pharmacist as nothing was stocked on shelves for people to grab from. I’m happy to report I was able to get Vitamin C drops, 500 mg, for ⅓ more of the price I would pay in the States and with half of the quantity. That’s the fun of moving and learning what they do have in country versus what you want.

Apartment living is as joyous as I remember, save the incessant weekend hammering. For whatever reason during the week there is no noise, but come Saturday morning or my favorite, Sunday night, it’s time to get out that hammer or saw and do those remodeling tasks. This isn’t just for a few minutes, but a few hours for good measure. 

I thought living over a jazz club and at a busy intersection with direct sun exposure and no air conditioning was the worst experience yet, but if that guy above me doesn’t stop hammering, I might have to reconsider. We can combine that with the weekend warriors and seasonal residents who were complaining about the sound of my air conditioner unit when their daughter’s bedroom window is actually in proximity to three different units, including their own. This was a giant waste of my time earlier in the week.  

I especially enjoyed explaining that once the temperature is met the unit turns off, which means the constant noise is from ALL of the units, not just mine. To make them feel better though and after the security guy interrupted my evening to mention this complaint about the incessant noise (even though I had only been home twenty minutes and likewise the accused air conditioner unit had only just been turned on) I told them I would reach out to my landlord about seeing if a technician could come by and make it less noisy. 

They had their suitcases in tow a few nights later, clearly moving onto their second residence or next spacious retreat. I’ll let you know when the technician finally arrives to solve the mysterious problem of air conditioner noise when it is operating. 

Life in Morocco is just like anywhere else. People complain, people buy groceries, go to restaurants, they work (sometimes) and even have McDonald's for tourists to have a familiar sense of home. My personal favorite is the Junior Tasty and that sauce of theirs. I thought I was going to be crying over the loss of my Mocha Frappe, but this new snack and those Gouda bites leave this good old American boy smiling to the end. 

I’ll try to be more frequent in these updates. My next task is getting fiber setup so I can actually start vlogging again and not have even a ten second long video take five minutes to upload. The only hiccup is you need your residency card for the fastest internet. Otherwise, you get the Wifi internet that frankly is hit or miss, especially during the time of day. Alas, a story for another time. 

I’ll be in touch.

​JFK
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All good things must end at some point. For now our Poland travel vlogs are over. Perhaps I should simply say the most recent trip to Poland and the many vlogs that came from it have been posted for all to see. I know many have commented throughout on where I should visit next, especially as I was so close to “cooler” spots to tour and the country of Poland still has much to offer. 

Dare I say, I’m not sure when I’ll be back. It could be in the winter, spring, or next summer. I don’t really know because visiting Poland is a hobby of mine, an expensive one at that. And yet there are other countries that are crying for attention. 

You’ll note my Albania and England vlogs are now on deck to be shown. For that matter, I’m now based out of Morocco, so it’s possible there could be some vlogs coming from this part of the world after the summer travel vlogs are exhausted. I really don’t know. 

Honestly, with the current channel I have made 128 vlogs and 355 shorts (although it’s probably closer to 400). Let’s combine that with the 100 + vlogs on my old travel channel and I’ve been doing content for over a twenty-two month period. That’s quite a bit of traveling, investment, and filming. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a great time exploring and adventuring. I also haven’t written any creative content during that same timeframe as my energy has shifted towards video. Part of me is remiss, because I love crafting a good story.

This isn’t goodbye at all. I just wanted to share that the road ahead is uncertain. There are trips already planned, tickets purchased for October and November. For that matter different itineraries are being considered for the holiday season in December. But, I can’t tell you what will be posted after mid September and how often. 

Thanks for watching what I have created and hopefully we will touch base on YT sooner than later. 

Cheers,

JFK

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Two weeks ago I did something I never thought I would do . . . well wait, let me back track for a moment. When I was living in Poland I never considered the idea of traveling to North Africa for any school vacation. Absolutely not. I was always focused on Central European exploration with a touch of Baltic and Balkan adventures for good measure. 

When coworkers mentioned crossing over to Morocco from Spain, I thought they were crazy. Part of this was from a lack of proper information. Whether it’s from local media or word of mouth, Africa is scrutinized wrongfully and there are so many stereotypes, preconceived notions on why it’s not safe to travel - even to Morocco which has been Washington’s longest friend. 

One would think I might have overlooked this bias long before, as my father and stepmother had made the journey years earlier. They explored the entire country and absolutely loved the experience. Still, I think as an introvert by nature the idea of crowds, especially in markets, rubbed me the wrong way. Just walking in the medina on those narrow streets and paths, not always well lit, is not that appealing at first thought. I couldn’t even fathom being approached by people. 

Granted, I should have used my Star Wars geekdom and been like - Morocco, isn’t that where they shot all the desert scenes? That would have painted a different picture. What about those food dishes Anthony Bourdain showed? 

But instead of focusing on those positive interactions, fear took over, especially in my younger years. It wasn’t until several coworkers made trips to Morocco and returned with positive experiences that my mindset began to shift. If they could make the trip, then I would be fine. The shift continued when a friend and popular traveler blogger made a similar journey with her boyfriend. From their pictures alone I knew this would be a place worth visiting. 

Fast forward to the present and I made a whirlwind trip to Tangier, Morocco. It wasn’t long, only two nights and only a day and a half of exploration, but it was enough to wet that proverbial whistle. There’s something about the area that draws you in. Even with the crowds of people wandering the markets or the narrow alleys and passageways of the old medina there was a familiarity about the place that I enjoyed. 

Perhaps it was the fragrance of spices that filled the air or the numerous cats that ruled the streets. I’m not sure exactly, but when I reached the casbah and looked out onto the Atlantic Ocean that sense of freedom and beauty was magical. Was this truly the spot where Hercules came to die? Was this where he divided the mountains so that the Atlantic Ocean and Mediterranean Sea would meet?

To say I was being pulled in and enjoyed this new energy would be an understatement. Whether it was people watching or walking by beautiful mosques, the churches, and the different shops and street side cafes, I was brought me back to the 14 year old writer who started a story about the blowing winds of Abydos. 

I couldn’t tell you today what the story was going to be about. I think there was a young boy who was going to find his way out of such a place, but I don’t remember. What I can recall is the student teacher who tore it to shreds because it was only an introduction. I spent ten pages painting the setting, the streets, the markets, everything - setting the mood on how the environment was alluring, yet a challenge to navigate. 

The writer in me didn’t return to such a setting until after I lived in Brindisi. And yet that was still a different mentality, a flavor all to its own. You can read it for yourself in The Varissian Affair. Then again, that’s a science fiction book and I made Brindisi an alien world. For me, living in that part of Italy felt like another world at times. My landlord called it North Africa because of the constant wind and sand finding its way to our southern port.

What I remember the most, was the slower pace of life. Even not knowing much of the language, I was able to observe and see the nuances of daily routines. I imagined the same in Tangier as I walked around and became more familiar with the area. Within a few minutes I could see why so many writers have found their way to this wondrous city. 

I hope to return for more new experiences. This trip to Morocco was more than I expected, in a good way. For the traveler in me, it was good to get out of my comfort zone and my preconceived notions. As an introvert I was able to navigate and grow more comfortable with each walk and conversation. 

My favorite memory of the trip wasn’t exploring the streets, markets, or venturing down to the beach. It was something rather simple. It was a late night meal where I stopped off at a side vendor who was staring at his cell phone waiting for anyone to step in to his kiosk for a snack. 

There were three stools and one countertop to the right. The other side was his prep area with a small gas stove top with two burners and a fryer. I asked for a burger and grabbed an Orangina - thinking that would be enough to quench my thirst. 

I took a sip and watched as the cook, waiter, and greeter - the “all in one” attendant began to prepare my meal. He turned on the stove top, took out the slab of meat, and went to work. Two gentlemen appeared from the shadows. They exchanged pleasantries - locals I’m sure. It was fun to watch the exchange as one wanted a croquette that was maybe twenty cents. He fumbled with his change and the cook motioned him to not bother. 

The act of generosity made me smile as I watched him put three croquettes into the fryer. 

I took another swig of my cold drink and wondered when it was the last time I ate past 8 pm and at a venue many of my family would consider a dive at best. I felt like I was in an open market Waffle House. Even in the poorly lit street, among the many partisans doing their evening shopping or grabbing a meal, it was a calming moment. 

I was at peace.

The cook and I managed to figure out what additional toppings I wanted added to his Moroccan burger. He then spread several sauces onto the toasted buns and prepared an egg that was carefully placed over the simmering meat. Unlike in the USA where we would decide what temperature I wanted the burger - I sat back and watched this man work his magic.

Fresh cut fries were added and within a few minutes I had a beautifully prepared meal waiting for me. We can talk about how it was only $3.80 or we can focus on the fact that for the first time on this trip I felt a sense of home and relished every bite. This wasn’t a sense of being back in Maine but one that comes from being in the right place at the right time. 

Between the ambiance, the smells, the taste, and watching this man do his job to perfection, while still carrying on a conversation with his cohorts; it was a great moment to be part of, one I’ll never forget.
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