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Landing in Casablanca, I stayed at the small art deco hotel called the Hotel Le Doge. The hotel was perfect for a quick nap, some strong coffee and a croissant on the sunny balcony before heading out to the second largest mosque in the world, Hassan second along the seaside. The green tile work is incredible as you walk outside past the fountains to find the side entrance for the tours, which you have to take but you can wander off and explore. There is a sea of carpets inside as the waves pound outside and dozens of chandeliers line in the main prayer hall. But don’t lose the group – you need to see the mushroom fountains in the hamam downstairs. Walk away from the mosque to get a better view of it from the sea walls. The rough seas churn the surfers, perfectly aligning their hurling forms in front of the mosque.

The new medina is worth a look around, but having just gotten off the overnight plane I was not in the mood to bargain yet, so I just poked around and tested the pricing. But I was, however, in the mood to eat… For sure stop in Dar Hatim near the medina, which serves lovely Moroccan couscous in a quiet garden.

For dinner we met an old friend of mine and her husband at a cool restaurant called Cabestan. The bathrooms have ocean views, walls of windows looking out on the crashing waves. The restaurant has excellent seafood and a snappy crowd. Don’t forget to bring your good shoes and jacket – the locals do dress.

Fez is my dream – the oldest imperial city in Morocco and a world heritage site. Wandering around the medina with no cars and endless shops can keep you busy for days. I would recommend a guide since it’s not easy finding your way around and I didn’t have days to get lost.

We landed up at the Riad Laarousa, a subtly renovated riad right in the middle of the medina. Up and up stairs to a lovely room with the fire place going, looking out over a green garden. Then up to the roof for a glass of wine and views across the medina, which nothing can compare to. Hit the main sites-the University of Al Karaouine, the fourteenth century Koranic College and take a walking tour of Bab Boujloud Museum of Moroccan Arts.

We had some great dinners in Fez. The Riad would make up anything you wanted. My travelling partner was on an all meat diet, which took some time for the waiters to understand. One night the hotel arranged a dinner in a local house, which was fantastic partly because the hostess was so charming and warm. A jolly old fellow came to pick us up and return us, for we would never find our way back. He didn’t talk, so it was sort of like a silent meditation walk. The hotel features a small hamman and spa, which you have to try after a day in the streets – we all need a good scrubbing in a dark room.

Volubilis

The best-preserved Roman ruins are on the way to Marrakesh – they are incredible. The most amazing mosaics sit out in the open. We wandered there for hours as the boys beat the trees to get the olives to come down. A perfect day.

Marrakech

Somehow my friend wiggled us into La Mamounia  – now my favorite hotel. Dark and mysterious with a hundred year old groves outside your window and a fun scene at night. It’s hard to leave and, I must admit, it made me not as quick to step out in the morning. But we did, of course, shop and shop and shop. Please see my shopping list below – its most of the ones you have heard about.

On the top of all lists is the Garden of Yves St Laurent, which was packed with fussy French tourists snapping away. The highlight for me is the Berber Museum in the gardens, since I am always looking at textiles. Please read the Paul Bowles book, “Let It Come Down” while you are there.  I did enjoy shopping for rugs at Mustapha Blaoui. They have great Berber rugs, flat leather, and reed rugs from Mauritania.

Yacout for dinner one night is a must – lots of food and a great flamboyant presentation. Also, I would recommend having dinner at the Royal Mansour, a new hotel near the Four Seasons. Beg to see the newly made Riads they are over the top. Stop in the nineteenth century Bahia Palace and note its ornately carved cedar wood walls and intricately painted ceilings.One of my favorite places is La Maison de la Photographie – a three story house with hundreds of photos of old Morocco – great for gifts and not so dear.

Oh yes, and the party at the Four Seasons was a blast So you can see a lot in one week in Morocco if you hire a good driver and speed a bit. The cities are not so far apart and there is a lot of see and eat – bargain hard.

HOTELS
1. Casablanca – Hotel LeDoge
2. Fez – Riad Laaroussa contact@riad-laaroussa.com
3. Marrakech -La Mamounia Marrakesh informations@mamounia.com

FOOD
1. Terrasse des Epices, a rooftop escapes from the medina, Marrakesh
2. Yacout Restaurant, Marrakesh
3. Dar Moha, Marrakesh
4. Dar Hatim Restaurant, Casablanca
5. Cabestan Ocean View, Casablanca.

SHOP
1.  Mustapha Blaoui great rugs. Arset Aouzale no 142 Bab Doukkala, Marrakesh.
2. Tres Des Nomads. tresordesnomades@hotmail.com
3. Place Bab Fteuh-silver jewelry and African beads at Boutique Bel Hadj (212 5 24 44 12 58
4. Akbar Delights (212 6 71 66 13 07;) African and Indian fabrics
5. Ben Rahal (212 5 24 43 32 73; 18 rue de la Liberte Beni Ouarain tribal rugs, Tuareg tent mats handmade in Mauritania with reed and leather.
6. La Maison de la Photographie (46 rue Ahal Fes; 212-5-24-38-5721; )

Jennifer, Marlene and Meredith did an amazing job styling beds in very interesting and spicy combinations. New block prints I had just printed in Jaipur were pried from my grips in spring colors. Dana and Ben show off some pretty amazing teeth. Happy shoppers ask my advice on pillows that even a boyfriend might like. I suggest grey ikats to appeal to the inner hippy. Spencer brings by his Polo crew to smell the flowers and add some urban zest to the event . Richard and Eva model turbans and Gusti Richard’s hound mugs for the camera. All and all a great night. Thank you for your support.

Having fell in deep with a Philippine gang in NYC that would descend upon me armed with deadly leche flan and delicious pork dishes, I was invited to come over to their homeland to see the abaca that I have long admired from the Island of Mindanao. My old pal, Lenora “Len” Luisa Cabili set up an embroidery collective of sorts and offered to take me with her. I had also named a bed a few seasons ago after this mysterious island.I landed in Manila for the FAME show, which though small, had some great abaca, which are light and intricate weaving groups I want to work with. After the show, Len arranged for us to fly down to Mindanao and visit her group and some of the famous abaca weavers. She informed me politely that I would have a bodyguard since rebels are active on the island and had just attacked an army unit. As you see, I will go to great lengths to get that pillow to you!

When we arrived in the capital, General Santos City, my hefty smiling bodyguard named Ritchie met me at the airport. Len told him not to leave my side, which he barely did. Poor guy was falling asleep in the restaurant as I tried to keep up with my emails.

The first stop the day we arrived was the T’boli Sikat School, which is sponsored by the American Women’s club of the Philippines and Len, among others. I had volunteered to teach the 100 plus kids art that day. At first, I thought to bring blocks from India to block print, but then realized it would be hard to print with that many kids and it would not be that much fun. Plan B was to create large murals with acrylics, which would be fun for kids of all ages. Len and I stopped in a hardware supply store to buy acrylic paints, brushes, rollers, spray bottles, and anything I could think of that would be fun to slam paint on canvas. I tried some of my finely tuned negotiating skills when buying the paints and received a laughable 20-peso discount!

Then we headed to a department store to buy some cotton duct to paint on. The store was decked out with Christmas trees already and Len informed me the Philippines loves Xmas and, as soon as the “-ber” months start, so do the carols and the trees. I thought the USA started a bit early!

Once we loaded up on art supplies we stopped at one of the many roadside fruit stalls to stock up on durian (one of Len’s favorites), small, sweet bananas, fried plantains, local oranges, pineapples, and pomelo. Mindanao is the fruit basket of the Philippines, so the selection was amazing.  Of course, we had some sweet corn for the road, which I have to say, was not as good as CT corn.

When we reached the school, we pulled up to a simple Bamboo building where we were greeted with a program of traditional T’boli dance and music. The kids thronged me with necklaces when I walked in so I looked like a true hippy. I would have to say my favorite was the monkey dance, which the boys probably created because they see monkeys all of the time- it looked real!

Len and I had to say something to the group so I talked about drawing and their traditions and I was sure they had so many images in their heads they would paint as well as they danced and sang in their breezy huts. The children were wearing traditional clothes when they danced. We split the 83 children into 6 groups and cut the canvas into large pieces for each group. I set up paint and brushes on the table and each group had 15 min to decorate their panel however they wanted.

I showed the kids how to use the rollers and spray brushes and off they went! The polite fury of energy was fun to watch as they all negotiated each other back and forth to get more paint with loaded brushes. At one point a tiny girls went right into me with a brush full of paint and smiled but kept moving intent on filling in her flowers with yellow. Len set up one group with sewing. I was amazed to see their intensity. Finally the little guys had their turn. I realized I had better just put the paint trays in the middle of the canvas, as it was a bit tricky for them to get back and forth with the brushes and rollers.  All the while, kids grabbed local drums and just played and sang on their own. I was amazed at how happy and free the kids were. There was no fighting, no crying the whole four hours I was there- it felt like a hippy commune or how I would imagine one to be!

After each group finished they took to the outside and talked about what they painted. The principal said they had never played with paint before. Len and I toured the school and noticed that they needed black boards. If you feel so inclined, this is their website for donations. After the melee Len and I had a sweet, tasty cassava with the teachers and then hit the road.

Next we checked into Mountain Eco Resort for a cold shower and then went to wait for our Tilapia dinner, which is the local fish, and, the only fish around. We had it three times a day! Kinilaw, which is sort of like a Tilapia carpaccio, is amazing and light and then throw in some Sotanghon – sort of like chop seuy with noodles– and, of course, wash it down with the local brew, San Miguel. Ritchie, my trusty guard, kept an eye on the lake for amphibious assaults, but none came and we passed out.

The next morning, we woke up early for a canoe ride on the sparkling Lake Sebu passing rising pink lotuses. Other canoes were taking kids to school singing on the early morning ride. The next school I had donated books to, thanks again to Len, was further in the hills, so we set out for a 30 minute ride with dirt ruts across streams and up mountains to the Klubi Elementary School. The head mistress lined the kids up at attention like a field marshal for our arrival.

We were lucky enough to be presented with more T’boli traditional dances and songs and, again, I got up and so did Len to talk about the fun of reading. We had to wait a bit for all of the local officials to show up to make the ceremony complete.  I told the children that I started reading very young and it took me away from my small village and all over the world and they could travel the world with such books. Next, I gave books out to all 612 students. They were so cute as they thanked me and immediately started reading them. They were hungry so we were given some amazing sweet bananas they were growing at the school.

Now that we had done our work for the schools, Len had to get her orders going for her big shows in NYC with Indagare! The first was the Women’s Weavers Collective, which trades abaca for the local weavers. I tried my hand at the polishing of abaca, which is not easy! The bamboo rod is on a spring and the bundles of abaca are brought to the storehouse to be traded where the finished abaca is polished. I had to buy some rolls, of course.

Next we went to see some of the most famous weavers around, who Len also buys from. Len calls one of the weavers, named Subi Nalon, “The Lipstick Bandit” for her love of lipstick and, of course, Len loosened her up with a stick, which she promptly applied. She said it hides her bad teeth. She also said she wished she met me when she was younger. I bought some intricate, sublime abaca with patterns that melt into each other. Then we were off to another with our roaring motorcade of bikes. The next weaver, Yab Man, served us steamed cassava, which was perfect and light. We found them in a smart hut wearing traditional dress. Then Len let me and the biker boys finally have lunch at Punta Isla- one of local resorts. Note the large Tilapia pavilion, again in all forms, and, of course, lots of deep fried pork. We ate at a lovely pavilion on Lake Sebu sipping lemongrass tea where a wandering minstrel came by. I want to hire him for my wedding someday.

Finally we headed to Lens group, which she had set up last year. The ladies met in the collective hut where we were honored with Tiboli song and dance. My favorite was one performed by a senior member of the group who dancing with the guitar. This group all started thanks to Len and they are all so thankful to her. Before she started working with them they had to go out and look for work since their husbands are farmers. Now they have money to send their kids to school.

Next it was time for Len to inspected her orders. I dozed off in the soft glow of the hut. I think I could live in one of these structures- maybe I will take that other weaver up on her marriage proposal.

On the way home we passed over a wobbly bamboo bridge which the children were swinging on. I wonder how long that bridge will last?

I have to thank Lenora for taking me on this trip to amazing Sebu.  Please go meet this force of nature at her trunk shows with Indagare in NYC and CT and see her new website and donate to the schools if the spirit moves you. Abaca pillows are now available for purchase on in the Souk section of www.johnrobshaw.com.

John Robshaw

Lake Sebu, Mindanao

10/20/2011

In the old days I used to ride around in the bicycle rickshaws when Jaipur was a bit sleepier and trucks were not slamming down the roads. I love the simplicity of rickshaws; a family of 5 can squeeze into one with the seat folded down. I took a rickshaw and reupholstered it in our fabric line for a promo and then realized I owned a rickshaw! Please stop by ABC for a ride.

Best,
John

Istanbul was Constanople

Now its Istanbul not Constanople

Been a long time gone

Constantinople got the Turkish delight

On a moonlit night

“Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered”  Shakespeare Cymbeline

New York was rainy grey in late March and I knew I had to get out of town. I decided to stop on the way to India in Istanbul, one of my favorite cities. I had hung out there during art school in Rome. I loved the faded grandeur of the city-the mosques and churches sprinkled along the Bosporus. I talked to war veterans in smoky coffee houses, went to all of the Sinan buildings I could find and was scrubbed, or, rather mugged, in the Hammans.

Rule number one for the fortunate travelers is to check in with all your friends to see who has been to your destination. I am lucky to know the talented Turkish designer Sara Bengur who insisted I stay in Beyoglu on the European side, which is where all of the new cafes and restaurants are, while still striking distance to Sultana met and the Grand Bazaar.

Arriving midday, I checked into the a-bit-too-faded glory of the Buyuk Londra Hotel. Greeted by an appropriately surly concierge, I flopped into a tiny room overlooking the roofs of the city. I slammed a bitter sweet Turkish coffee, paying attention not to drink the grinds, before I dared venture out onto the main street, Istiklal Caddesi. A perfect pale sunny day greeted me, while throngs of people were shopping, eating and chatting along the busy street, and cable cars wandered by in no hurry.

I dodged through the crowd to the Cukurcuma neighborhood, a warren of old cobblestone streets full of antique shops. Hall Antiques at the top of Faikpaso sok is my favorite. The owners had just gotten back from Damascus and Aleppo with intricate Syrian lamps, olive soaps and a series of delicate calligraphic paintings on black mirrors. I stopped at a dusty bookstore to see what I could find on Iznik tiles- the fellows were heatedly negotiating over old tomes and paid me no mind.

Up early the next day, I walked across the Galata Bridge past hundreds of fishermen not catching anything but having a grand time chatting. I always have to pay my respects to the Rustem Pasha Mosque, which is built with the finest Iznik tiles from the mid 16th century, the greatest period of their production. The mosque is a patchwork of designs. Messy repairs have made it more charming and made me think of a lovely patched blanket I have to sort out for the next season. A fellow offers to have his rabbit perched on a stand pick my fortune, The rabbit obeys and nips a tiny piece of paper that states “Hey you! Intenter!  A very important action going to change your life! You must be careful and part! You can meet with surprise to realize your dreams”.

I took this to heart and decided I had better get to the Grand Bazaar quickly. Taking notes and trying not to get too lost or sidetracked, I make it through the bazaar. I searched for my favorite antique textile dealer. I finally find him, he leads me to his back rooms piled high with Suzanis from Uzbekistan, Turkish felt rugs from the outer provinces that look like Christopher Wool paintings and I was in heaven.  Or, as the rabbit says, I am realizing my dreams!

The Fall collection is the soft blue pink stones of the Hagia Sophia mosque, the deep indigos and corals of Iznik tiles, piles of pomegranate inspire me to add in saturated reds, massive calligraphic roundels become new patterns. Calls to prayers are my backdrop as I sip sweet black tea and a bus pulls up to unload tourists.

Check out Trellis and Sag Harbor sheets, the Lapis Quilt and Shams and the Goose Decorative Pillows to get the look.