Fes, Morocco

We took the train from Meknes to Fes at noon and were picked up by the owner of the Dar that we were staying at- Bernard. A Dar is basically a smaller version of a riad, more like a pension where you stayed at someone’s home rather than a fully dedicated hotel. Now Bernard was a combination of Santa Clause and the father that you wish you had but both have the same fantasy lore. Except he spoke French and little English. Despite our linguistic barriers we understood his kindness without translation.

He parked his car and when we walked through the entry to the Medina, I can only describe it as the cliched “assault on the senses.” The putrid scent of sheep flesh drying on the nearby walls (to eventually become leather) mixed with the sweet smell of Argan oil products, the devastating sight of street children was superimposed on opulent tiles and carpentry work of mosques, the shrieking cries of the Muezzezin calling for prayer harmonized with the rhythmic bumping of carts trudging down the streets. To feel and taste Fes is to peel a layer of dust off your being but Balak! Balak! Watch out! Make sure you don’t get too lost in the moment or you will get run over by a donkey.

When we entered Dar Melody, a seemless mix of French and Moroccan coziness, Bernard served us fresh strawberries and orange juice and after we settled, he drove us to the Bab Boujloud, the main gate of the Medina. He introduced us to Sayeed, owner of his favorite restaurant and Missy and I proceeded to get lost down several of the almost 10,000 narrow streets that make up Old Fes. We stumbled into a tannery to learn about the 3 month process of turning sheep, cow and goat skin into leather, bartered with various shop keepers, met spice sellers teaching about safron and argan oil and made our way through the dizzying maze back to Sayeed’s restaraunt.

At dinner, we had one of those rare moments in life where the perfect alignment of events makes one reconsider atheism and question how meaningless coincidence could be so fortuitous. Now in two days, Missy and I planned on traveling to the desert on a nine hour overnight public transit bus before meeting a guide for a camel trek. When she saw the bus and learned about the treacherous mountains we needed to pass, she wisely decided that the risk of death to the benefit of saving money was too great and insisted on finding a driver. As we sat down to eat, and told Sayeed of our dilemma he enthusiastically informed us he had the perfect guide and driver for us. He contacted him and told us that he would meet us after eating. As dessert was being served, we spotted Melody and Kristof down the street, the Belgian couple we met the previous night in Meknes. We invited them to sit and eat with us and they obliged. When we told them of our plans to travel into the desert, while this was not on their agenda they said it sounded interesting. So we sat as they enjoyed Tajine and cous cous and then came along Abdul, our soon to be guide. He introduced himself as an aspiring philosophy student, the same age as us, very proud of his Berber culture and experienced in taking travelers into the desert. As he was describing the trip, Melody said she felt something click as if there must be a Reason that she was in one of the 10,000 streets at the exact same time we were eating, as we were about to meet Abdul, whom we met indirectly from Bernard. She agreed to join us on the spot.

This was our second day in Morocco. A land where mystique was abundant to the point of pasee and it became apparent that our trip would be truly special.

The next day, we hired a guide to help us navigate the overwhelming narrow streets of Fes to cultivate our curiosity of the history and culture rather than fixate on the ever-present feeling of being lost in a maze. We visited the shrine to Moulay Indrissi- bringer of the crescent to North Africa, the Madrasa Bou Inania – oldest university int he world built in 1351, a hotel to house pilgrims making their way to the spiritual pulse that is Fes, herboristes selling spices, herbs and goat skulls to ward of evil spirits (Jinn). Islam is a literally translated as submission, and this made all the more clear as the intricate hand wrought trellis and carpentry work, the need to pray 5 times a day and a mindset dedicated to a power greater than any mortal beamed through every narrow corner that we turned.

In the afternoon, we meet up with our new Belgian friends and Kristof and I let the girls enjoy mint tea as we head into a Hammam- a traditional bath house.  I put on my swim trunks and followed a half naked, one eyed man to a centuries old, steamy tiled dungeon type room where other men where washing themselves with buckets of hot water.

He gestured me to lie on the ground and proceeded to dump piping hot water on my head (heated by a man hired to throw wood chips into an over all day underneath the Hamam). He then lathered me down with a generous amount of argan oil soap all over my body, well almost all over. Then he took out this rough hand-sized cloth that had been dangling in his elastic band near crotch, used on previous customers, and scrubbed me hard. I could see layer after layer of dead skin exfoliate off my body (oh I hope that brown stuff was my dead skin). I then went through a couple of rounds of hot and cold water dumped on my head before going back to the changing room to relax with some mint tea.

Relaxed, Kristof and I returned to our women. It was getting late and we had a long drive down to the desert tomorrow, so we split ways excited for the next adventure. On our way back to the Dar, Missy and I stopped to sample snail soup from a humble looking street vendor and we noted that this was a very merry way to celebrate Christmas.

 

Next Day:  Sahara Desert

Tips

-To get a guide or not get a guide? Many people told me that it was essential to get a guide because Fes is such a maze. In my view, I think it is a good idea to get a guide, but if you have more than two days in the city, you will probably be able to figure it out with enough motivation and save the money (although you should not pay more than 200 dh or $27). Also, I did not find my guide or others chock full of information to satiate my curious mind. Anyway, when picking a guide, first you need to get one that is registered. This is a good quality control measure. You will be approached by many people offering their service, but they will likely have an agenda to bring you to their family’s shops and pressure you to buy. With a registered guide, you will definitely see the main historical sites, but you will also be brought to stores (whether he or she has a relationship to them or not it is difficult to say), where you will be pressured to buy. Bernard recommended the guide to us, so it is best to go through your hotel/hostel to find a guide as an added quality control measure.

-In the maze, try to have the Bab boujloud as your reference point as this is universally known

Dar Melody- Do yourself a favor and stay here if in Fes. Bernard is amazing! His home is gorgeous, breakfast was perfect… all for 50 euros.

Food:
When you enter the Bab boujloud, the main entrance to the medina, as you walk to the left, you come across a handful of traditional Moroccan restaurants. They taste the same (absolutely delicious), cost the same and allow you to people watch. Sayeed’s restaurant is Restaurant Guenoune.

Cafe Clock– a little break from tajine and cous cous can be found here. The food was not amazing, but they put together interesting plates. I recommend the camel burger.

 

Next Day:  Sahara Desert