Fez

The following morning feeling refreshed and ready for action we sat down to our first Moroccan style breakfast, which we were later to realise was a typically carbo-loaded affair, with coffee, fresh orange juice, mint tea, pancakes, croissants and bread served with plenty of butter and apricot marmalade.  Sounds delicious, but believe me after a week or so of the same every morning we were ready for a change!  Hailing a cab after breakfast our packs were this time thrown up onto the roof rack by our driver, who was very chatty and drove at speed towards the station while blasting Moroccan Bollywood style music through the car.  Glancing out the back window every now and then to make sure our packs remained where they should be, it was another crazy ride through the city.  At the station we purchased tickets for our next destination, Fez, thinking that we had timed it perfectly, with the next train due in only 15 minutes. However this was not to be, as the train was considerably delayed and we ended up sitting on the platform for at least an hour, while crowds of other travellers began to gather.  Having only really travelled by train through Western European countries, with timetables and reliability you could set your watch by, this was a little frustrating, but everyone else seemed pretty unconcerned.  It seems Moroccan time is different to the rest of the world, as one of our Berber guides told us later, "Westerners have watches, Moroccans have time"  a saying which holds a lot of sense.  While the numbers on the platform swelled, we began to question our decision to purchase second class tickets, as it seemed the train was going to be very crowded.  After much debate and still not knowing when our train was actually going to arrive, Tim made an executive decision to race back to the ticket office to upgrade our tickets, leaving me to wait on the platform with our luggage.  Of course, according to Murphy's law, no sooner had he left me than the train arrived, meaning we had a moment of panic as Tim was faced with first a queue of people at the ticket office, followed by a non English speaking attendant who was in no great hurry to issue the new tickets.  Eventually we succeeded, and raced for the train, jumping on just as the conductors whistle was sounding and seconds before the train pulled out of the station!  Feeling slightly flustered we were immediately pleased with our decision to upgrade as we found ourselves in an air-conditioned compartment with large comfortable seats which we were sharing with a friendly middle aged American couple, who inspired up with stories of life in places like Abu Dabhai, Shanghai and Mumbai, they were both teachers who had travelled the world teaching in English speaking schools.  It was well worth the extra couple of pounds we spent on the tickets for the sake of a comfortable journey and good company.

The delays with our train meant that our supposed four hour trip took a lot longer than we anticipated, meaning we arrived in Fez in the late afternoon.  However the journey was once again amazing, with simply observing people and animals going about their daily lives keeping us entertained.  We had plenty of waves from people as we travelled through the countryside and a constant stream of people selling all manner of things as we pulled into the many stations along the way.  As well as this we had some interesting experiences with overly friendly Moroccans who came into our compartment and started chatting away to us and asking about our plans for accommodation and activities at our destination.  We had read about this sort of thing happening in our guidebooks, apparently it is common for people to board trains a stop or two away from the main tourist destinations and basically advertise dodgy accommodation and other arrangements to unsuspecting travellers.  Foolishly we admitted to our new 'friend' that we had not booked anywhere to stay, so he began telling us about a couple of places he had stayed before, producing several business cards for us to take away.  Suspecting that it was a bit dodgy we politely thanked him, later deciding to make our own arrangements.  On arrival in historic Fez we climbed out of our first class carriage onto a dirt platform where we were pleasantly surprised by the shiny new train station.  After a bit of a debarcle arranging a taxi to take us to the edge of the medina we arrived at the hotel to find that it was booked out, as is often the case with places listed in the Lonely Planet.  So we continued on to the next place which was also full, but the kind girl at the reception there suggested another nearby place we could try which turned out to be brilliant.  This place was a small Riad, a traditional Moroccan mansion-style home, which is built around an open central courtyard with rooms on different levels, and a roof terrace at the top.  We were shown to a room by the lovely owner, and were soon feeling at home.

After settling in we headed out to explore some of the medina.  Starving by this point we discovered a street stall selling delicious savoury pancakes which served well to tide us over until dinner later on.  The Fez medina, a World Heritage site, is both the world's largest living Islamic medieval city and the biggest car-free urban environment on the planet.  There are more than 300 mosques in the Medina alone, so the call to prayer is an incredible surround-sound affair.  Fez is an assault on the senses, a warren of narrow lanes and covered bazaars fit to bursting with aromatic food stands, craft workshops, shops and an endless parade of people.  Old and new constantly collide - we saw men driving the donkeys and mules that remain the main form of transport, chatting on mobile phones.  The ancient skyline, like Casa, is punctuated equally with satellite dishes and minarets.

After snacking on a delicious savoury stuffed pancake we were fuelled up and ready to explore.  Immediately we noticed a huge difference between the laid back atmosphere of the Casablanca medina, compared with the pushy salesmen in the Fez one, who were constantly shouting out at us in French and English to come and look at their stalls.  Annoying as this was, we enjoyed browsing, with our favourite stall being one where an old guy and his son sold an amazing array of spices.  They were so friendly showing us all the different choices, that we had to purchase some to take back to London.

We wandered through the lane ways of  stalls selling fresh produce and livestock.  It seems that when you want chicken for dinner in Fez you simply go to one of the chicken sellers, choose your live bird, before it is weighed and then slaughtered right before your eyes.  I guess you can't get fresher than that!  After a dinner of tasty meat tagine washed down by mint tea we spent some more time practising our haggling skills, this time resulting in the purchase of a leather shoulder bag for me, bought from a sweet guy with a big gappy-toothed smile who I just couldn't resist.

Tuesday morning after being woken at some crazy hour by the first call to prayer of the day, we breakfasted at our riad.  We then made our way to the train station, once again facing the difficulties of a non English speaking country.  We had read in the Lonely Planet that it was possible to catch an overnight train from Fez down to Marrakesh, however despite this knowledge and it being listed on the timetable, we were unable to succeed, with the staff claiming it was not possible.  Deciding to give up on this idea, we were resigned to buying tickets for the following morning, meaning a full day of rail travel, but at least we would make it to Marrakesh before my birthday.


After catching a taxi back into the medina we began the search for the tanneries, which are a famous Fez institution, supposedly going back several millennia, with little changing in the process since medieval times.  We must have looked a bit lost, as a man soon approached us and asked if we were looking for the tanneries and said he was on his way there already and we should follow him.  Feeling a little dubious, we allowed him to lead the way, however in hindsight we should have ignored his offer of help.  Introducing himself as Muhammad he was very nice and friendly, and we thought there would be no harm in accepting his offer.  We were led on a wild goose chase through the markets, stopping along the way at various shops belonging to friends of his, until we politely and firmly told him we were only interested in seeing the tanneries, not the goods on offer at his friend the spice merchant or the carpet seller!  Eventually we arrived at the tannery to join the crowds of other tourists who had also somehow ended up in the same place, to be led up several flights of stairs to a viewing platform above the tanneries.  As we emerged at the top we were handed a sprig of mint to hold to our noses to take the edge off the pong, while we were given an explanation of what was going on below.  Apparently this was one of the oldest tanneries in Fez and it was certainly a busy place, with the different stages of leather curing going on.  Seeing the huge vats where the dye the leather was pretty impressive, with all manner of vibrant colours being produced from ingredients such as saffron, indigo and poppy flowers.  We spent ages just watching what was going on, before heading back down, where of course we were encouraged by the salesmen to visit the huge shop selling all sorts of leather goods.  The thing we quickly realised about Moroccan shopping is that it isn't a good idea to appear too interested in the goods on offer, which means not touching, picking up or even commenting on anything on sale, otherwise the salesmen are very quick to pounce.  So we wandered through trying to appear uninterested, but eventually felt pressured by the salesman to make a purchase and ended up buying a belt, which we could justify purchasing as Tim needed one anyway.  After negotiating a reasonable price and assuring the salesman that we did not need or want a leather jacket, bag, shoes, cushion or trousers we were ready to escape with our minimal purchase.  As we were leaving the shop our 'guide' Muhammad approached us asking for payment for his services in guiding us to the tannery.  After we turned him down, explaining that we hadn't entered into any agreement to pay him he got quite angry with us, saying that we hadn't spent much money and that he was a poor man etc etc.  Obviously there are lots of guys working like Muhammad, befriending unsuspecting tourists and the demanding money for their services.  Feeling a little flustered and uncomfortable we once again turned him down and got out of there as fast as we could.  From that moment on we vowed to not accept help from anyone who offered it, a tough but important lesson to learn.

After our great escape from Muhammad and his gang we were pretty hungry, and stumbled across a little stall selling soup.  The young English speaking stall holder soon convinced us to take up a seat on the pavement outside, and soon had two bowls of steaming lentil soup in front of us accompanied by big slabs of bread and mint tea.  The soup was simple but delicious and our host was keen to engage in banter with us about our experiences in Morocco as he refilled Tim's bowl a second time.  Before we knew it though, he had started telling us about a carpet shop he knew of that we really had to visit after we had eaten.  So it was with haste we finished our lunch, said a polite no to his offers and headed off.  It seemed there was no escape!

Feeling the need for some time our we headed back to our riad to the amazing roof terrace with views over the Medina.  sitting up in the sun was lovely, a sensation that was so lovely after such a long cold British winter.  After an hour of basking in the warmth it was time to head out an explore some more, I managed to convince Tim to climb a hill which would allow views over all of Fez.

It seemed most tourists would chose to have a taxi whisk them to the top, but not us, we ignored the offers of rides from taxi drivers and curious looks, and hiked up the hill on our own.  It was well worth the effort as we were rewarded with amazing views, until the peace and quiet was interrupted with yet another guy approaching us trying to sell us a carpet!  After once again politely turning him down, we headed down the hill, passing vibrantly coloured cow hides drying in the sun, and entering the medina from the other end.

This part of town was far less touristy, with kids playing in the alleyways and running up to us asking for money and even passing a woman washing her rice in the communal water supply.  It seems so many Moroccan households are without running water or sewerage systems, so obviously these public fountains are so important.  Everywhere there were donkeys carrying huge loads around the market, what made us laugh a little was a guy looking official wearing a soft drink company uniform, leading a donkey absolutely laden with bottles of soft drink and water, doing his deliveries amongst the stalls.  Some of these animals were obviously very badly treated which was not nice to witness, many of them obviously hugely overworked and underfed.  But at the same time we could understand their importance in creating a livelihood for their owners, and in places like Fez with the narrow alleyways and cobbled streets the donkey is an obvious mode of transport.

Returning to our riad as in the late afternoon we gathered together a few nibbles and headed up to the roof terrace again to watch the sun go down over Fez as we listened to the final call to prayer for the day echo around us from the many mosques that surrounded us.  Fez was an amazing city which we were glad we we made the effort to visit.