Touch down in Morocco

Cambridge coats off as we hit the relatively warm air of central Morocco. Carry on luggage only!

For our Christmas Holiday we wanted to head south for a bit of warmth but with a cultural twist rather than a resort on the Canary Islands. Willow and I were keen to see the vestiges of the Moorish world so warm Morocco was our chosen destination. M  shrugged saying 'if you want to go to the armpit of Europe I'll come along' and Petal sighed. We extended the trip up through Spain because Willow's Spanish exchange trip was cancelled at school.

The Blue Gate - one entry point to Fes' Old Medina.  It is green on the other side, the colour of Islam and good luck.
Late afternoon, one of the quietest times of the day in Fes.

Fes was smaller and closer than Marrakesh, cheaper to fly to and has a Medina that is just as old and vibrant. We wanted a bit of beach time too as we thought of our Aussie mates at Manly so a train trip through Casablanca and Rabat and up to Tangeirs for the Ferry across to Spain was planned.

Looking down into the foggy river valley in the early morning.

Renovations under guidance from UNESCO
Shrine of Idris II - founder of Fes as capital of Maroc

Fes was the nation's capital city for centuries.  A large river pours down from the mountains and through a valley, it goes under the hill that Fez was built on.  Wells plunge down through the rock giving each sector of the Medina it's own beautifully decorated fountain with taps for household water to be collected from.  The wealthy Riads had their own indoor wells and fountains.  The second King of Moroc, Idris II, a scholar, Islamic Philosopher, athlete and  strategist who established Fes as the capital of his kingdom, was buried there.  This site is visited by many to make a wish at his shrine, making him roll in his grave no doubt.

The Kingdom of Morocco has a long history built on the union of a Berber(North African nomadic tribes) chieftain's daughter and a great, great grandson of Mohammad(Idris I) fleeing from the Abbasids(also claimed ancestry of the Prophet) who slaughtered the rest of his family to establish an unrivaled dynasty in the Middle East. The trade caravans of Medieval times made them tolerant and inviting of many cultures and bought wealth. Morocco is in the top west corner of Africa so was in close contact with the Iberian peninsula. The Moorish kingdom in Spain was established by warriors and philosophers springing from Morocco.

Willow reading the Map of the Old Medina, notice all the orange gate signs and the blocks with no 'roads' marked -
too many little alleys to draw in! The whole city of Fes has a population over 1 Million people - thankfully most live in the new French area of the city.

The deep Arabic and Berber roots of the country are also brushed with French influences from the colonial period. The two official languages are Berber and Arabic but most people also speak French and many have studied English. King Mohammad VI is the head of a constitutional Monarchy and head of all religious matters (Sunni Muslim).  He is a highly achieving academic with a PhD in Law from a French University and has bought liberal reforms to his country.  The King's political reforms included giving women civic and social equality for the first time.  He married Salma Bennani from Fes who is the first wife of a Moroccan ruler to have been acknowledged publicly and given a royal title - HRH Princess Lalla Salma.

The Royal family stay at the Royal Palace in Fes 4-5 times a year, so a very proud Taxi driver informed us as we drove past on our way back to the Bab Bou Jeloud (Blue Gate of the Old Medina) from Gare de Fes (railway station).  The 'Petit Taxis' that wait outside the Medina gates would not carry more than 3 people so to get to the train station we had to walk. Luckily 'google' maps on M's fully charged phone showed us where to go. We had to go because rail tickets for Moroccan trains can't be purchased outside of the country and I wanted to get the tickets for our trip to Casablanca and Tangiers sorted - then I could relax!

King's Fes Palace gates - built in the 60's

Orange trees line the main roads

The palace walls are guarded by army 24/7 whether the King is resident or not. The stork in the distance doesn't care and is one of many merrily building their nests on the Palace roof.

Inside the Gare de Fes - Photo of the King at rear
We spent all our Dharims paying cash for the train
tickets. A handy ATM stocked us back up.
Do you think Petal is remembering M's pin number?

Thankfully winter temperatures don't get much beyond the low twenties so the walk was quite pleasant but Petal was keen not to walk back even though we had been able to see the Palace gates, lots of storks soaring around (no babies!) hundreds of orange trees lining the main roads of New Fes (Ville Nouvelle) and lots of people jumping into Petit Taxis in the middle of busy roads. A line of old white Mercedes waited for customers outside the station so we booked one and whizzed back to the Medina. The Taxi driver's English was good enough to tell us that people from Fes are called Fessians just like people from Australia are called Australians - am still wondering if this is a joke along the lines of my father's tale about kiwifruit being the Kiwi bird's egg to the Japanese tourists in his coach driving days.

The King has a Tourism and Industry College "built to his everlasting glory" in Fes and encourages tertiary study in business, languages and traditional arts with personal scholarships.  Thanks to this we were able to communicate in English with the host at our Riad(courtyard house) and Jamal - the guide we hired(450Dh) for our first day there after hearing tales of skeletons of lost tourists uncovered by the UNESCO renovation teams.

We stayed at Maison d'Hote Zohor, about 400m from the blue gate.  We weren't to know this when the Taxi driver dropped us off from the airport. The arrangements had been that the hotel would arrange a transfer from the airport but we were still there 40 mins after the flight had landed. Ms armpit of Europe eyebrows pressed together and he went off to find a Taxi. The price of 200Dh for a 30min trip sounded scary until the Dh13.7:1£ conversion ratio was employed. We just divided by 12 at all the shops to make things a bit easier.

We got out at the Blue gate and called the hotel, as the booking details directed. A young girl who spoke only French answered so Willow was given the phone and asked for someone to come and guide us into the Medina in French. After several calls we found that the phone was just left off the hook - Ms eyebrows nearly met in the middle. A white tracksuited young entrepreneur walked up and asked if we would like his friend to barrow our bags down to the hotel because the owner was a friend of his and he knew where it was.

Our bags were loaded in and a tall young guy followed the white tracksuit at a cracking pace down into the Medina, the crowds parting then closing around them like a river. I imagined the worst - that this was some trick to steal our bags. Petal ducked and dived to keep our bags in view making me worry about abductions, I was waling down hill but the heart was pounding as if climbing up. Suddenly he turned down a narrow alley then into an even narrower one and I imagined ambush and the wrenching of handbags.  I felt very guilty for these suspicions when the sign post was pointed out, the door bell rung and a warm welcome received. The white tracksuit encouraged M to give a tip to the barrow guy - 'bit more, very heavy bags and now a long path back up!' but took nothing for himself.

Riad, manager of Hotel de Zohor had a team of young
people, including an American, helping him run the place

The Road?! our hotel was on

Street signs at our hotel rds crossroad

Zohor's indoor well and fountain

The table assigned to us for our stay. Waiting for breakfast - Mint tea, orange juice, yogurt, plain crepes which were good dipped in honey, bread stick, bitter olives, cream cheese and unsalted butter. Sometimes a crumpet type of pancake ripped to wedges and another time a cakeish type of  fried bread sprinkled with sugar but tasted quite savoury.

We walked in to find a large inner courtyard with double paneled, intricately carved wooden doors facing inwards from rooms and three levels of windows up to a huge skylight opened to the elements. A fine wire net was suspended across this space, presumably to stop birds flying in.  A massive brass and coloured glass chandelier hung down from the roof giving a very gentle light. It was designed to keep the house cool in summer so we kept our coats on for breakfast every morning.

As we filled out the passport details that every hotel we visited in Spain and Morocco wanted to keep on hand we recognised a couple that had been on our plane and had obviously been at the hotel for some time - they must have got our booked transfer! Rida, the manager of the Riad, was a Berber who came to Fes 'for business'. He bought us our first Mint Teas and offered, in good English, to get us an English speaking tour guide of the Medina for the next day. He showed us to our 'family room' on the third floor and invited us to visit the roof terrace.

The beds were comfy, if in an unusual arrangement and plenty of warm blankets were provided.  The windows opened onto the inner courtyard and the bathroom spoke volumes through our olfactory nerves about the state of the ancient town's plumbing problems.

WiFi hot spot

View west across the top of the Medina, the local minaret
in the center, square with green mosaics

Roof terrace - waiting for the dust storms
they never came.

Petal enjoying the sun at 4:30
Pitch black by now in Cambridge

Center lamp in the courtyard through
 a 'window' in our room.

The sun was out on the roof and another mint tea was provided which we all gulped down as we looked past the jungle of rooftops, satellite dishes and minarets, out over the Roman ruins, dusty hills and the glimmering river in the distance. The myriad of skinny cats stalking pigeons or basking in the sun kept us entertained.

As the sun dropped over the town we took courage and headed out into the curling corridors to the main street where we had seen lots of eateries on the way in.  Not having any pebbles or breadcrumbs, we took photos of every turn so that if we got mixed up with landmarks we could find our way back. It only took a couple of excursions before we felt at home with the streets immediately surrounding our Riad.

After walking down the 3m wide main street round countless bends, past hundreds of stores we turned and headed back up to a restaurant with Fez blue table cloths just 100m around from the Blue gate and were treated to a lovely meal. First olives, dips and bread were placed on the table as we took our seats and drinks were ordered. The menu was in French with many photos so was easier to understand than the Arabic I was fearing. The delight of eating in halal restaurants is that you know there won't be any pork or shellfish.

We all liked the Mint tea, with or without
the spoons full of sugar

Chicken Tagine - lots of vege in Fes!

The first of many tagines were ordered and came blistering hot to the table. The salty preserved lemon really gave the chicken zing. A tray full of Moroccan sweets finished the meal with yet another Mint Tea. The frangipani crescents were my favourite but the girls preferred the sugar syrup soaked pistachio triangles and M liked the pile of clementines(mandarins) with their leaves still attached. Most of the places we ate at followed the same path of offering several set priced menus to pick a selection of dishes from. We were full to bursting for 50Dh a head! (divide by 12ish for £).

We sat watching all the locals greeting each other as they headed off to get supplies for the evening, the food souk really comes alive after dark. Tourists wandered past avoiding the enthusiastic sock seller and the enthusiastic hawkers encouraging them to come and sit at their tables. Newbies like us follow a guide in a daze with visual overload. The only tree on our side of the Medina grows up through the floor and veranda of a neighbouring restaurant and cats use it to run down for scraps tossed to them from the kitchens and back up to the roofs away from the crowded streets. We notice that boys are out with their big brothers or uncles and are greeted with pats and hugs by other young men. The only girls we see out are with scarved mums and grandmothers, teen girls with or without scarves are plentiful the next day but scarce in the evening. Petal is intrigued with the Jellaba worn by most adult men walking past, especially those with the hoods up which she named 'tea bag coats' and determined to purchase one as a lounging suit back home.

Thinking of Granny, I had an overwhelming
urge to grab a date to eat on the way past.
Do they still chop hands off for theft?

Local fruit and Vege

Lady in the Jebella has just watched the chook she selected beheaded, disemboweled and plucked.
At least she knows it's fresh - no food poisoning here!
Glad I'm not here in summer, I imagine the smells would take a while to forget.

A close up of a wheel barrow full of snails, the vendor used a bowl to scoop them up into a plastic bag for hungry customers to take home and cook.  Hope you like garlic and lemon you slippery little guys!

So many types of Olives - my favourite by the end were the pinky green ones with a light lemon and parsley dressing. (See the next photo)
The closest I have found in the local supermarket are the dressed Halkidiki ones from Greece - will just have to keep looking or start importing!  Jars of preserved lemons behind. Permission was asked to take the photo, most don't mind
but a few ask not to be in it with gestures. This guy was very busy, M was patient as I waited to get a clear shot.

Every meal is served with this bread ripped into quaters, street vendors split them open like pita and stuff them with BBQ meat (not sure if this means goat, lamb or beef) or chicken for 10Dh.

Fresh herbs are barrowed in every day. Massive piles of mint are bought in for all the tea!