Time stands still in the Fes Medina

Ornate fountain in the Carpenter's Square

Parkour enthusiasts, shopaholics, history buffs, crafty types and foodies would all enjoy a long weekend in the Fes Medina.  Medina is a Arabic word that just means town. In modern times it has come to mean a walled in maze of narrow streets that give access to closely built houses, fountains, mosques, artisan workshops, restaurants and stores. Medinas were built this way to limit the amount of direct sun in the fierce summers(45-50°C outside the Medina temps come down to the high 20s in the shady streets), provide breeze passages and to confuse enemies. Fes el Bali is apparently one of the largest car free urban areas in the world. The cheap airfares from London to Fes makes a long weekend away there very attractive.

I didn't see any of the young Fesmen
practicing their parkour skills - good place for it.
tp://weburbanist.com/2007/09/10/parkour-and-free-running-amazing-urban-acrobatics-and-building-jumping/

Jamal - our Medina guide, arrived at 10 am and we agreed to a 5hr tour for 450Dh - sneakily this included a 45 min lunch stop at a hidden away restaurant that belonged to the mum of a friend of his. Yes I know it was a miracle to get M to agree basically to 5 hrs of shopping but the guide promised it was really a tour of all the traditional artisans that were being revived and supported by good King MVI and that we weren't expected to buy anything.

Morning sun finally sneaks into the Medina

Following Jamal our guide - another teabag hat

As we wandered out of the labyrinth immediate to our hotel Jamal explained that he and all his paternal ancestors had lived in the Fes Medina. He was one of 10 children but thankfully(his words) he was the second son so not expected to follow his wood carving Father's footsteps. He had completed a Bachelor of tourism and administration from the local University where he had learnt English and had chosen to only have two children.  He showed us where he went to Kindergarten (4-6yrs) and where his Primary school was (7-12yrs). Each community (about 400 people) within the Medina has a fountain, Mosque, Bread oven, Kindergarten and Primary school. After primary they go to the big secondary schools outside of the Medina.

Signs to a Kindergarten

A local Mosque open for prayers

No wonder all the locals seemed to know each other.  Everywhere we went Jamal was greeted with hugs and slaps on the back.  Moroccan blokes are certainly hands on with their greetings to one another. Jamal warned us that when we got into the busy areas it was customary to touch your back or shoulder before pushing past, he said keep your bags close but theft was very rare. The young gentlemen seemed to have no problems using this custom to get a wink and a 'touch'(nothing slimy) as they passed Willow.  Sometimes coming around for several 'passes' - local knowledge of the sneaky little alleys coming in handy. Willow said she put her knee up into one enthusiastic gentleman and apologised in French with a smile so she didn't see him again. Petal was a little young for the same attention but was hugely entertained by the goings on. During one fit of the giggles recalled something about not being allowed to laugh in public and suddenly imagined being arrested and never seeing her computer or bed again (interesting priorities!) then remembered that was Afghanistan under the Taliban not Morocco.

Heading down the Talaa Sighira - our closest main rd!

Stone carvers making headstones

The huge Mosque in the center of the Medina was established in 859CE by *Fatima al-Fihri from a large inheritance, she also had a Madrasa(school) built within which was the first and a leading educational institution of the early Muslim world. European and Arabian scholars came here to discuss Philosophy, Mathematics, Medicine, Logic, Rhetoric and Astronomy. UNESCO lists the al-Karaouine as the oldest University in the world. We visited one of the student dormitories, built in the 900s, being renovated.  It became segregated between Arab and Berber and declined to an ultra conservative religious school during French occupation but was forced to be part of the state school system when Morocco won independence in 1947. The school was finally moved from the Medina site to the old French army barracks in 1963 and retrieved its full University status.  (*Fatima was the name of the Prohpet's only child, his wife was a very wealthy trader, his boss when he worked as a caravan hand, a widow and older than him. Fatima is still the most popular girls name in the Muslim world. Many of the jewellery stores had earrings, pendants and bracelets with 'Fatima's hand' on them and it is a common pattern in leather and ceramic decoration - said to give women good luck and fertility.)

Through the door to the Kairaouine Mosque
We peeked in many of the doors around this huge
space but as non-muslims were not allowed to enter.

Faitma's hand looks a
little like Leelee's now.

We saw so much on this day in a sprint around the town that we spent the next afternoon revisiting some of the places. We didn't see the silver smiths making the famous Moroccan silver teapots and trays or the brass workers making the intricate lace patterns for lamps but plenty were on display in the local stores. (Think big walk in robe opened onto an alley with wooden doors that are padlocked shut after closing.) To try and organise the huge jumble of our experience I am going to use subtitles and will pull together all the things from each craft even if they didn't happen chronologically or at the same place. Hopefully this will mean less words dear sister!

Mules are one of the main transports in town and gas bottle the main cooking fuel.

Animals:
Canaries and finches in cages were hung around the souks seemingly just for their songs. It was well they were in cages because sleek short haired cats of all colours and sizes were everywhere but I only saw one that wasn't shiny and bright-eyed. Every evening the book shop man close to our Riad had a dozen or more black and white cats in the store eating the chicken he bought for them. Many of the shop owners seemed to feed specific cats each night little tidbits but no one seemed to actually own them - is this a cat's paradise? They hunted pigeons across the roof tops during the early evenings and mornings and lazed around the walls and streets near kitchens during the day. Dogs were 'not allowed' in the Medina according to Jamal because they needed too much space and annoyed people with their barking in close quarters. The cat fights at night are probably just as bad.

Beating cooper in the foreground
Mule train at the rear

A resting mule with an empty basket

Cats come and clean up the tables
when diners leave.

Mules are still used to transport stuff in and out of the Medina although we saw lots of big wire cage barrows being used as well.  We saw one poor beast carrying so many crates of used soda bottles that from behind all you could see of him was his tail and hooves. Lines of mules tied together are used to carry the tanned hides out to the surrounding hills to dry because there isn't enough room in or around the tannery. They certainly weren't glossy and be-ribboned but they were clean and had sparkly eyes. We saw one being rested and watered between jobs so hopefully they are having an okay life. They moved so fast through the crowds that it was hard to get a good photo of them at work.
The animals in the food souk were sad, the girls wouldn't go down a second time because one of the butchers had a row of goat heads lined across his marble bench top and one of them had its eyes open. The young pullets raised for eating were kept in big cages overlooking the slaughter table - you've got to hope that they really are bird brained - I kept telling the girls not to personify them.  The barrow of snails seemed the most confused as they slimed all over each other in a fruitless search for greens.
The abattoirs are part of the tannery.  The sheep are shorn then slaughtered according to halal laws, the skins sent to be processed for leather and the meat is sent off to the souks. This we were told but did not see so I have no idea how humane the process is but if the meat we ate is proof of the story that happy animals make tasty meat then they must have been okay.

The overwhelming textile showroom

Textiles:
On our way to a cloth showroom that Jamal called a factory, we were introduced to tailors working out of little cupboard stores and shown the cactus silk used for all the embroidery and for special fabrics. To have clothes made, locals purchase the material - lots of fabric shops with local and imported stock, then take it to one of these tailors to have made up and embellished. The women's Djellabas are more decorative than the men's and are usually made from softer, shinier material, this means the hats don't stand up into the 'teabag' shape that delighted Petal so much. We also met a guy being paid to twist the single lines of cactus silk into thicker threads and cords, he had put nails into the walls of someones house about 10m apart, spooled lengths of the silk between them(more for a thicker thread etc) then attached all the ends from one nail to a little hook spun by a tiny motor in his hand as he pulled against the second nail forming the twisted thread, this then got wound around a thin cardboard tube and sold from yet another cupboard store for people to take to the tailor. We didn't see how the cactus was made into this silk or how it was dyed - next trip.

Souk full of silk spools

Spools of Agava silk

Wool from the tannery

Bespoke bedspread on the loom

The 'factory' was a slick enterprise with several assistants to encourage purchases. None the less the walls of colour from piled silks was beautiful.  They had two looms set up and working to create bespoke fabrics and were told by the owner (our assistant - friend of Jamal's) that his factory had 50 of these but was out of the Medina because it needed more room.  The young weaver in yet another Adidas tracksuit (this seems to be the national costume for the young guys - the guy at the Tannery even called the matching top and bottoms Adidas Moroc) was using the Agava cactus silk, velvet, cotton and wool in his design to give it more texture. The bold colours are all in stripes and are displayed hanging from hooks on the walls of the souks. The lengths are used as bed spreads, table runners, wall hangings, couch covers etc and was one thing I had hoped to find to bring back - our grey Ikea duvet covers need cheering up.  I chose a Fez blue silk, sage green silk, charcoal wool  and dove grey velvet stripped wonder. The double bed sized piece looks good across the end of our bed. It was very hard to pick from all the glorious colours.

Willow as a Berber

Petal with her desert scarf and winter weight Djellaba

Our host took a scarf from his attendant and showed the girls two ways of wearing them Berber style and showed us an overwhelming wall of scarves and pashminas. Petal chose a Fez blue silk and Willow an eggshell blue one. I'm kicking myself for not buy lots for gifts, they worked out to be around 4£ each.
Petal really wanted a teabag coat so we were ushered up to the clothing floor. Willow tried on a Sinbad the sailor 'dress', a single length embellished in a bust border that is tied behind the back, the material is then threaded between the legs so the armholes created at the other end are pulled on and a belt in the same pattern as the cuffs and bust band is tied around the waist to keep it all together. Apparently the young girls wear silk trousers underneath as well - the slits went to the waist! M tried on a male Djeballa and was taken with the Fez. Petal was given a female one to try on but the hat didn't stand up, so much to the consternation of our host, she tried on a male one which went home with her.
The host was all very generous when it came to the adding up saying oh well we'll round that down after a whirlwind of numbers were entered into the calculator. M asked me if I was expecting the total quoted and asked for the numbers to be entered again and oh dear discovered that an 80 pound error had occurred! I was thinking that the host guy was wishing he hadn't be so generous with the bracelets he gave the girls.

Next he took us to a showroom that sold cleverly embroidered table cloths and napkins etc.  Two female relatives sat and embroidered for us to watch. They are ambidextrous and there is no back side to their work.  They laid out some cloths for us to see and the work was incredibly neat.  They don't use patterns or any form of marking on the fabric - they just start in one corner and make it up as they go along.  Amazing work but we didn't buy any.

Fes souvenirs back at the Riad

Charlie keeping off the silk spread back home!
Tin candle lamp from Fes too

The carpet showroom - wool, silk, applicae, reversible, every type you can imagine

Carpets:

The one I fancied - 1000£+

Jamal whisked us through countless twists and turns until he lead us down to a showroom for carpets. A percentage of the profits go to the widows of the Medina as a cooperative enterprise. The host here could win prizes for salesman showmanship. Jamal disappeared and left us to our fate. We were asked if we would like a mint tea and when we answered in the negative were asked if we didn't like Fes, if we wanted to insult our host by refusing the refreshment offered - we had the tea! It was all said in good humour but compliance seemed the safer option. His English was very good - his ex wife was a Tongan Kiwi, he had lived in Auckland and had a brother who owned a Moroccan restaurant in Papanui and apparently was Dave Dobbin's best buddy, appearing in his 'Intrepid Journeys' video. (clip here but not with him in it -  http://www.nzonscreen.com/title/intrepid-journeys-morocco-dave-dobbyn-2005 ) He got very excited when he found out that we were from NZ and started calling us cousins. The rugs were beautiful but still expensive. The only one I really liked was a silk one with images of a sultan hunting on a horse for a wall hanging - that was over 1000£. We left a disappointed 'cousin' to order his 4 white coated male assistants around to pack up all the rugs with any blue in at all that he had made them roll out for us after asking M what his favourite colour was.

Leather:
The tannery of Fes is a famous and very old commercial centre. It is now a co-op and the complete process of farming the sheep to exporting crafted leather products comes under its control with profits shared to all workers. Jamal took us to one of the showrooms that happened to have an English speaking friend working there. He took us up to the roof of the showroom, gave us a bunch of mint to protect our noses from the smell and talked us through the process of sheep to leather. Some of the brick and mud pits are full of pigeon poo(has an enzeme that separates the rest of the wool from the leather) and lime(breaks down any blood still attached to the skin) dissolved in water - this created a smell that pervades the souke, subtly under the spices and perfumes. The skins are soaked for 27 days(our guide said) with a few exits for the wool to be scraped off to be spun as it loosens. The hides are then washed with the pounding of a water wheel and put into the dying pots. Yellow dye is made from saffron and apple skins(local  type looks like a dark golden delicious). It is the most expensive to make and considered to be a happy colour so most men slip on a pair of yellow leather slippers when they get home. Have a look at this u-tube clip to see it for yourselves. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MeuMcYB4BL8 They are then hung out to dry and passed on to crafts men to be made into products for sale. Ottomans or poufs as the locals call them, slippers, shoes, jackets, bags, place mats, belts, hats and saddlery are sold in all the markets.

The largest of several tanneries in the Medina ; dye pots at the rear, hanging hides to dry on the roofs

Poo and lime pits to soften and stip the skins ready for dying

Rinsing the lime and ammonia from the pelts. The methods used are the same as those developed in medieval times

Poufs - take them home to stuff them

Yellow shoes a sign of joy and wealth

Willow settling down to try on leather slippers

Willow had been looking for a pair of pointy shoes to spend her Christmas money on so chose a purple pair with silver thread embroidery - 600Dh - they were not interested in bargaining the price down but the money taker (there was always a separate older male who handled the cash!) offered to buy the girls for 20 camels each as a distraction to my hestitation.  By the time I had chatted with Willow about whether these were the ones she really wanted I heard M trying to shift me off to the guy as well - he agreed to another 20 camels as I bent over and tapped my pin into the Eftpos machine - I argued that as I was the harder worker I should be worth more - he laughed and said yes 40 camels for experience and good cooking. It was all very jovial but I'm not quite sure how serious M and the money grabber really were. The girls and I think that the only thing stopping M may have been the thought of 80 camels in the backyard and no one to pick up the dung.  He did suggest that the next souk we visit to be a bride market so he could compare prices before committing to the deal. I think we worked out that the camels offered are worth around 200,000£.  So much for KMVI's reforms!

The back of that oven is a long way away

Bakers:
The Medina is split into suburb like sections, the borders known only to the residents I would imagine. Every section has its own bakery and baker. All the families send their dough down in the morning on trays covered with linen cloths and the youngest 'man'(child) is responsible for picking up the cooked bread before the father comes home for lunch around 2pm. Jamal said this was after school - schools were out for the New Years 2 week break while we were there so I wasn't able to see the hours kept.
Two men worked in the bakery and Jamal had arranged for his local to let us go in and watch how it all worked. One guy collected the dough and stored it in the right shelf and passed the trays down to the baker when he was ready.  He had a rectangular paddle on a really long stick and was pushing the loaves into place in a gigantic stone oven that was heated by a fire at the back - outside the oven, another guy feed wood shavings into it to keep the temperature steady. Looking into the oven was a little scary and conjured images of Gretel pushing the blind witch in.
On our way back to the hotel near the end of the tour we watched two little girls - about 4yrs old, trying to carry their family's bread tray back home. As we watched they managed to drop it into the street several times, in the end Jamal helped them wrap it up so that the linen cloth was wrapped under the bread to stop it sliding but by this time they were giggling so much they couldn't hold the tray straight. I doubt that the bread made it home without another spill or two.  This was the only time we ever saw little girls out without adults but Jamal didn't react as if it was anything special.

Throwing in wood shavings to heat the water

Bath houses:
This same fire on the outside technology is used to heat the community bath house water. Jamal said they were very popular in winter but not so much in the hottest months. We didn't go in but were told they were something of a cross between a sauna and a bath. bathers sit around a hot trough and ladle water over themselves then relax in the steam. There are set times for each gender - men early morning and after work, women during the day.  To bad if you're a working woman!
We were taken around to the oven and saw the sacks of wood shavings bought from the wood workers that the old guy sat and emptied handful by handful into the furnace. Jamal said that when he was a kid his local fire stoker would let him sit and help on really cold days but if his father caught him skipping school he got into big trouble. He said that the women would bang on the back of the room and yell for more hot water if they slacked off.

Argan Oil and Perfumes:

This is not our photo, the woman in the
pharmacy seemed too uncomfortable
with us watching so I didn't ask to take
a photo. The brown cakes to the side are
what is left after the oil is pressed out,
they are high in protein so feed to their stock

Jamal took us to  pharmacy where a veiled grandma sat cracking the argan nuts, peeling off the stickity shell ready for the kernal to be squeezed in a stone oil press. Apparently all oil is still produced this way as a commercial methods attempted have not been successful.
Goats love the thorny Argan tree and the fat fruits it bears. Berber goatherds would pick the undigested nuts out of the goat poo, peel them and press the kernels for cooking oil. Now days most of the harvested oil from these native trees is collected by women working in cooperatives. KMVI has formed a special committee into supporting these as a means of independence for women and to increase production of this much sought after oil for export earnings.  It is good for the country too because the trees have really deep root systems and are being used to dedesertise much of southern Morocco. I wonder if Aussie could plant them in the outback to the same effect like an arid version of the Macademia plantations?
A young guy in a white coat invited us to sit down on a bench and gave us a practiced spiel on the production and properties of this miraculous oil. We smelt the nutty cooking oil(they roast the nuts before pressing) and a variety of their perfumed oils. We were told how the  vitamin E in the oil was absorbed by hair and skin to nourish and make younger the appearance (obvious glare at me).  We rubbed in different oils and were asked to consider a purchase. M was getting pretty antsy but this was another product that I had predetermined to buy in the planning of the trip.  Willow chose a gardenia flavoured one and Petal chose an orange and jasmine essential oil blend to help her sleep. I liked the Jasmin but we were out of Dirhams. The oil has a shelf life of around 18mths but will be used up before then.

Many different scent blends

The Eastern tradition of perfumes suspended in oils is clearly still vibrant with perfumeries a common store. The pharmacy guy scraped cubes of musk(from the sexed up glands of deer) and ambergris (a waxy rock like excretion from a whales digestive system - vomited or pooped up and washed onto beaches - called floating gold because of it's rarity and value to perfumers) on our wrists. They also use rose oil to perfume the argan oil. Because of the tradition of giving gifts to family and friends on New Year's day the Perfume souks and Pharmacy's were very busy. Apparently it is a custom for a groom to be to have a special blend mixed for his bride that she will wear on the big day - ooh a much trickier task than a ring don't you think.

Wood work and upholstery:

See the pattern guide bottom left.

Jamal introduced us to an old fellow in a little store who crafted beautiful boxes with cedarwood which is fragrant and a dark honey colour, lemon wood which is a yellowish cream and ebony. The patterns are all inlaid, mother of pearl and dyed woods are also used in the patterns. He had a tool that he used his feet on to turn blocks and proudly showed us a model spinning wheel he had built. I didn't think to ask Jamal if it was his dad. The next day we went back and bought a box for RevD and R as thanks for looking after Charlie and one for Michael to keep his cuff links in.
Jamal also showed us the workshop of a guy who made and fixed the Cedar screens and doors for his community.
On one side of carpenter's square is a museum of carpenter's tools used over the centuries. On the other side of this square was a corridor full of people making wedding furniture that is chosen by the bride and hired for the long wedding celebrations. Past these are carpenters making everyday items for local sale. We saw embroidery frames, the bread trays, chairs and tables and lemon wood cooking utensils.

Wedding furniture

Confection:

Mixed bags and blocks of sweets

Sweet sellers were everywhere, their main products were nougat - traditional almond that were less sweet but more flavoursome than any I have had before and nut free coloured ones that were soft like fudge. A soft chewy sesame toffee was my favourite. We stocked up for the train trip to Casablanca.

Fes blue plate showroom

Ceramics:

Renovations to Idris II shrine
all the mosaics have been crafted in
the medina

I have always loved bold blue and white patterned plates but did not know that this was a tradition of Fes. The colbolt blend that is guarded within the families of the craftsmen is where the term 'Fes blue' came from. A riad down the main st closest to where we were staying was a huge ceramic warehouse.  The photos below show the intricate carving on the screens and many of the beautiful local work for sale and the prices were a tiny proportion of what you would pay for the same thing at home. I was sorely tempted to buy a plate for Leelee's famous stuffed eggs and hundreds of things for me but we had a long way to travel and one little bag each so I very regretfully left without purchasing a single thing.

Entertainment:

Leather works and textiles combine to dress the
Arabian horses in style for parades and games.

Street entertainers wanting coins for photos hung around the main restaurant areas and were more common because of the New Year holidays. The instruments of torture used for percussion and tune were certainly new to our western ears. One group had three men playing a trumpet looking thing that required breathing like a bagpipe does and made a more intense bone slicing version of the scottish sound. Bells and clappers were sounded by others in the group and a guy in a white robe danced in the middle- hands out, leg to leg sort of convulsing - he loved it when others jumped in and danced with him. I have been unable to find out if this has some New Year significance or if he was just having fun. Just as well they don't put milk in the mint teas - it would have curdled.

Torturous Instruments

Another guy with a red outfit sewn all over with tiny conch shells and a close fitting cap with a long cord on top ending in a shell which he would swirl around in time to his clackers then would hold out his hat to all the diners.
Satellite TV seems to be the big thing in Fes with the roof tops covered. There wasn't one in our riad available for guests but Petal had her Surface which we watched a few shows on before bed in the evening.
Doorway shopping(no windows!) tea taking and chatting in the streets seem to be a big part of life in the Medina.

A satellite for every home

New Year's day party cakes

 I really enjoyed my visit here and would love to go again to see the ceramic works and the mosaic craftsmen at work. All the bustle and hustle was quite overwhelming and we felt that three nights was quite enough in one hit. Summertime would be a bad idea I think.

Dentist advertising - he prefers to pull!

The local fountain for our riad

Desert everywhere was 'seasonal fruits'
which was mandarins

About £23 for a three course meal for four
The leather guide's mum was the cook and made the best
Couscous I've ever had, hot, fluffy, savoury.
I wish I had enough courage to have asked for a lesson!

First black tea - Casablanca Maccas

Tea bag hat?!

Moroccan colours in the Mosaics

UNESCO has listed the Fes Medina as a cultural
World Heritage site. Financial help is coming from
Italy and the US to renovate and preserve. Foreigners
are encouraged to buy dilapidated Riads, fix them up
and run them as tourist guest houses.

Most mirrors have shutters over them - perhaps to discourage vanity

Silver pots for sale - approx 1200Dh for a mid sized one

Woven bags in the souk

Beautiful brass lamps - all electric,
we wanted an egg shaped candle one

A new fruit selling from a barrow
the round beetroot coloured flesh stained
the lips, we forgot to eat ours for breakfast
and didn't think they'd go down too well in the train!

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!