todduygu

Fès

We enjoyed our last breakfast in Fès talking to an Australian couple. She an environmental conservationist and he a designer/mountain bike tour guide/designer.

Getting checked out of the riad turned into more of an ordeal than we had anticipated, with the credit card machine physically broken. We got set up with someone to help us down to Bab de R’cid and stopped to grudgingly pull some money out of an ATM. I was happy that the bank and was off the street in a courtyard. We got the helper paid for the riad and on our way to the plaza we had entered the city in. The daytime taxi took quite a bit longer than the nighttime ride. We got to the train station and setup with a ticket to Casablanca. We rested at a cafe until it was time to leave.

Casablanca

Duygu read and slept on the four hour journey. We had to change trains at Casablanca for the 30 minute trip out to the airport. Got to the check and had to pay a bit of what felt like a bribe to get our ‘overweight’ hand luggage into the cabin with us. We had to fight everyone we subsequently ran into to hold onto our bags. Despite being among the last to board we easily found a place to put our bags.

Istanbul

Duygu ended up talking with a French/Moroccan gentleman who is starting a 10 day holiday in Istanbul and Antalya. He is coming looking for a party day and night. Duygu was hard pressed to recall places in the vein of Reina, which he has visited previously and liked very much.

We lounged around the riad on our last full day in Fès until about noon. It was nice to catch our breath for a bit before heading out for another day of touring.

Duygu was excited to see the old Jewish part of Fès, so we headed back up to Bab Boujeloud and out beyond. We passed through Ensemble Artisenal and the Boujeloud Gardens before hunting for the Mellah. This was definitely a rougher and poorer area than El Bali. The touts were out in force here as well. After dodging the first two, we finally succumbed to a third who led us through an even denser warren of tiny streets to the old Hebrew cemetery and the Ibn Danan Synagogue. We were then lead to where Lalla Solika Hatchouel, a jewess that had caught the eye of Prince Moulay Abderrahman and refused to convert Islam and was subsequently imprisoned and killed for the affront, had supposedly lived.

After some more wandering we were at a shop overlooking an old waterwheel in the river adjoining the Mellah. We begged off of buying anything and rebuffed the attempts to get us into another overpriced restaurant for tourists along with an offer of a home cooked meal that evening. As we prepared to leave the area, our ‘friend’ the student who liked to help foreigners and practice languages turned on the guide demand for money, asking for close to what our official guide had gotten for double the amount of touring. We eventually gave him less than half, to his protestation and assuredly whining behind our backs to another gentleman lounging by the wall nearby.

We passed back through Bab Boujeloud and stopped at Chez Rashid, a little cafe at a shaded bend in the street. The waiter was friendly and they had some variant on pastilla, a local dish consisting traditionally of pigeon with figs and spices in a pastry dusted with powdered sugar and cinnamon. After getting rid of the excess sweet from the top it was quite delicious. The waiter helped guide us on to our next destination, the Medersa Bou Inania. The Koranic school was on par with the one we saw in Marrakech, but not in as good of shape. We lingered for a long while in the calm of the main courtyard, witnessing a bit of activity as the afternoon prayer was called.

We descended lower into El Bali on another one of the bigger streets. Duygu found a store selling argan oil and proceeded to go about making a purchase, getting a rose water and rose water infused mud masque in the course of the transaction.

Further down the street we happened upon an area we recognized a bit from our late night arrival into the city down by the Bab de R’cif. As we headed toward the riad, one of the boys loitering nearby recognized us and said the name of the riad and pointed up the street. We moved that way, slowly looking around. At he next intersection he was in front of us again showing the way. I recognized the next intersection and thanked him. He then pestered us with an offer to take us to a restaurant which we refused. As we neared the riad he demanded money for showing us the way. Duygu got upset and refused and we ducked into the riad, happy to be inside.

We relaxed in the room for a bit before deciding to venture out again for some last shopping. We had not made it very far on our way when we were accosted by another young man wanting to direct us to the medina. We refused and went on our way. He persisted in following us and soon had produced his ‘brother’ who had helped us before. He demanded we pay him and when I save him a coin for his small trouble, his English speaking companion demanded paper money, meaning far more than I ever intended paying. We were able to shake them with angry protestations and threatening them with taking the matter to the police.

Duygu was very shaken by the experience and was not at all interested in shopping after that we wandered back to Bab Boujeloud and down the other street in search of an old slipper shop keeper We had passed earlier. He was not to be found in the early evening, presumably having closed up shop for the night. We did manage to notice the old water clock. Only the wood parts are in place, having been restored 10 years ago. The metalwork is still being examined as no one can ascertain exactly how it works.

We headed back to the riad to beat the gathering dusk. Happily none of the young folks that had pestered us previously were around. We watched the tail end of the sunset from the rooftop. An overcast sky took some of the energy out of the evening as it god a bit chilly.

Over another dinner of harira soup, we talked to a Belgian woman who was traveling around Morocco on her own. She had been organizing activities for retirees before having to leave her position to deal with what seemed to be breast cancer. She beat it 10 years prior, outliving a younger sister similarly stricken. Her son was doing doctoral research on the effects of the climate on plants across Belgium.

We had a slow start after our late arrival. Breakfast was in the second courtyard, adjoining a small pool. After breakfast we ventured out to take in the El Bali area. We got a quick orientation from Said, the riad manager, and then we were off.

We finally got to a bigger street lined with shops. We followed it up and up to Bab Boujeloud, the blue gate. We paused to reorient ourselves and were set upon by the nearest guide. Official guide Abdul turned out to be quite charming. We agreed to have a half day tour around the sights of El Bali.

We wandered around through some of the small streets off of Dar Batha. We then descended through the market and passed by Medersa Bou Inania, opting to visit it later by ourselves. We ducked into a showroom stuffed with over the top wedding seats designed to be carried to two bearers.

We fought off a throng off German tourists for Duygu to enter Kairaouine Mosque, the largest old mosque in Morocco ( only recently eclipsed in size by the monstrous Mosquée Hassan II, built by King Hassan II in Casablanca. ) I made the mistake of saying I was not Muslim and was not allowed to enter. Duygu reported the floor to be incredibly hot as she crossed the main courtyard barefoot.

We stopped briefly at a weaving collective. They wove with cotton, wool and a plant silk made from an agave. They had some very beautiful pieces, but we had been warned that the prices would be higher by having been brought in by a guide. We begged off shopping.

Then, much to Duygu’s trepidation, we were off to the tanneries. We were passed on to a worker from the ‘collective’ who escorted us up through an extensive shop to a viewing gallery. Duygu was issued a ‘berber gasmask’, mint leaves inserted into each nostril. The softening and dyeing vats have been at the location since the 12th century.

After getting our fill of the view and the ammonia produced by the pigeon dropping softening agent, we headed downstairs, carefully avoiding the sales pitch with tales of Istanbul from Duygu. Somehow the manager of the collective has his daughters in a local school run by Turks. The girls are supposedly learning Turkish in addition to Arabic and French.

We rejoined Abdul to head to the Place Seffarine, an open square with a large tree and blacksmiths along one side. We wound our way from here to the Nejjarin Fondouk, a beautifully restored three story house on a central courtyard. Following a six year restoration, the fondouk houses a nice collection of woodwork. I found a map of the dispersal of tree species across Morocco to be of particular interest. From the room, we had a nice view down across El Bali.

Abdul tried to steer us toward an expensive meal at an obvious tourist trap. We begged off and bid him adieu, after he presented us with a pair of Fatima hands. Duygu was thrilled, as she had been looking for one the whole time we had been in Morocco. She had worn a plain gold chain necklace out and now had a nice plain hand to put on it.

We got some further hustle from a guy on the street for a restaurant. At first showing us another overpriced tourist trap that was completely deserted. We promptly walked out. He chased us down and showed us another place that looked a bit more promising. We ended up on a rooftop with a good and an excellent chicken tajine.

After our meal and obligatory mint tea, we headed back onto the street and got sucked into a ceramic shop. They had some very nice things and we spent the next 30 minutes selecting and haggling over the price. Back on the street we walked through more of the market area and stopped to look at a game a couple dried fruit vendors were playing. It turned out to be a variety of parcheesi according to a gentleman standing nearby. He chatted us up and we were suddenly in a carpet shop being shown carpets. We begged off after being shown half a dozen. Our companion was persistent and found that Duygu was looking for lamps. He of course knew just the place. We had passed by it before…but now we were inside looking over the wares. The lamps that Duygu liked were still very expensive and not super exciting in the price range we were looking at. Imagine an ostrich egg sized and shaped brass lamp on a base. We eventually found a different style that we both liked and got the price down below half of the initial offer. Our purchases n hand, we managed to extricate ourselves from our persistent companion and made our way back to the riad.

After freshening up, we headed to the rooftop terrace to relax. I managed to fall asleep for a couple of hours in the warm night air. We finally descended after 9:30PM and had a bit of soup and ‘salad’, a collection of cooked vegetables including eggplant, lima beans, zucchini and carrots. We finally showered and slid into bed exhausted.

Marrakech

We were sad to have to gather our belongings and leave Dar Naïma behind. We caught a cab to the train station to arrange our onward travel. There were a couple of potential routes including an overnight train to Tangier and then a another train from there back to Fès that would have even up another half day. We opted for the last direct train to Fès, a 7.5 hour ride that would put us in at 2AM.

I was certain that there would be a left luggage place at the train station. This turned out not to be the case. Nor was there one at the small bus station nearby. There was supposedly one at the larger bus stop that was a long distance away. We opted to see if we could leave the bags at the riad. They were super accommodating and let us park the bags with them.

We then set off to see Bahia Palace. After all the trudging we were very happy to find a cool garden with orange trees providing shade. We spent a couple of hours exploring as many of the 130 rooms as were open.

Close by was El Badi Palace, a sprawling ruin that had been “The Incomparable.” It had been built over 8 years by Ali Ben Youssef, the last Almoravid sultan. It took a later sultan 10 years to strip all things movable or of value.

We hiked back to the Djemaa and to the souks behind. We stopped in the same cafe for a bite, the service was terrible this time with the wait staff hanging around outside talking with their friends. We headed to a place where we had seen a lamp that I liked. It was a ‘good price’ for ‘my sister’ from Istanbul. The lamps Duygu liked were pricier, so we passed on them. We then searched around for some of the hand blown tea glasses we had been drinking from at every establishment. The first place we asked at they were 12dh a piece for medium sized ones. More even than the fancy concept store near Majorelle Garden.

At this point, Duygu got on a serious mission to find the glasses at a good price. We finally stopped at a place right behind some plant vendors just at the edge of the Djemaa. It was a huge store that appeared to be the restaurant supply for all the temporary stalls in the plaza. After passing through a giant turnstile we found a helpful gentleman who had some paper wrapped packages with the cups. Half-a-dozen of the large size we a whopping 10dh. Just the bargain we were looking for.

Our prizes in hand, we headed for the riad to collect our bags. We got to say goodbye to Amir and Zahira. We got to the train station and on the direct train to Fès. We initially sat across from a young lady who Duygu took a disliking to. She was super friendly with a young man who sat down next to her and proceeded to burp repeatedly throughout the part of the trip we were near her. When we had a chance we moved to a pair of seats at the other end of the train.

The train slowly passed back to Casablanca and along the coast to Rabat before heading inland to Meknes and finally Fès. After our adventures in the warren of tiny streets in Marrakech, I thought it prudent to call ahead and have someone meet us and help us navigate to the riad. Despite it being 1AM, the manager was pleasant and amenable to having someone meet us a one of the main gates to Fès El Bali.

Fès

After a taxi ride to the Bab er R’cif we waited for someone from the riad to come help quide us through the winding narrow passageways. It was a bit surreal to be walking by all the shuttered shops in the dead quiet of night. The old medina is Fès is the largest urban area without motorized vehicles in the world. There is only foot traffic and transport of goods on donkey or horse.

We were happy to arrive at Riad Dar Bensouda and have the door open onto an even more fantastic place than Dar Naïma. The riad was based around two courtyards. Entering into the main courtyard illuminated only by candlelight was breathtaking. Our room was on the ground floor. Two enormous wooden doors opened onto a long slender room with ceilings easily over 40 feet high. We had a quick shower and collapsed into bed.

We were up to the alarm just after 6AM. It took a while to raise Amir, who had promised coffee the night before. After 3 rings of the outside bell, he finally appeared from the depths of the riad.

We were outside the gate right at 7AM to meet with Isham who, it was readily apparent, spoke very very little english. A few minutes later, Hassan arrived to say that he would be joining us.

We got settled into a Mitsubishi 4×4 and headed off to the southeast of Marrakech. It was pretty slow going, heading up over the Tizi n ‘Tichka pass ( 2260m ). We stopped several times to look out over the villages toward the bottoms of the valleys. Most did not have motor vehicle access. Everything coming into the villages by foot or donkey cart. About a third of the way up we started to see military vehicles coming the opposite direction. There were a variety, including humvees and larger transport trucks in addition to jeeps. These were followed by a number of black Mercedes sedans and white campers. As the sedans passed, Hassan put it together that these were likely the entourage of King Mohammed VI, who had been out near Ouarzazate for the groundbreaking of a large solar energy project. We stopped just before the pass for a long view back down the way we had come.

On the east side of the pass we exited the main road to visit Telouet and the ruins of Dar Glaoui. The brothers Glaoui were powerful Berber tribal leaders. They are singularly reviled for having sold out the country to the French. Their kasbah headquarters were abandoned in 1956 and have steadily fallen to ruin in the years since. The red earthen walls crumbling back into the landscape from whence they were erected.

Deep in the center of the sprawling complex are several rooms that are still a marvel to gaze upon, replete with mosaics, stone and wood carving. The kasbah in it’s heyday must have been a sight to behold in the barren Atlas environs.

The winding narrow road took us by numerous other villages tucked away in places with or near water. Most of these were near the floors of valleys, that were bright green gashes between the upthrust of the barren red, tan and browns of the mountains. We stopped near several to admire them and take pictures.

Another highlight along the road was the old fortified city of Anemiter. We slowly exited the Atlas and headed for Aït Ben Haddou, a sprawling old kasbah that has been featured in numerous films including: Lawrence of Arabia, Sodom and Gomorrah, Jesus of Nazareth, Gladiator, Alexander the Great and Troy. The narrow streets are overrun by shops full of trinkets to entice the numerous busloads of tourists that visit.

After a long, hot hike to the pinnacle of the mound that the kasbah rises upon, we headed back to the nearby ‘town’ for some lunch. The offering was a bit overpriced, but good.

There were several offers to take in the studios…which at first I understood to be craft marketplaces, but turned out to be a Moroccan version of the Hollywood backlot. We decided to pass on this. We did make the obligatory stop by the ‘authentic’ Berber shop. We were offered mint tea and the spiel about the owner being born in the Sahara. We looked around part of the two story warren of rooms full of handicrafts and trinkets. None of them seemed particularly interesting nor of quality warranting haggling over them. We exited fairly quickly and headed to our last stop, Kasbah Taourirt.

The Taourirt kasbah was built by the Galouis, but was never their residence, instead being home to a close relative. It was one of the largest kasbahs in the south and strategically located along the trade routes.

After poking around part of the kasbah, we started to head back. It was a long windy way back over the pass and we arrived back in Marrakech around 8:30PM. There was some confusion about Hassan being late for his night shift at the riad where he worked and worry that he would get let go. Lots of tales had supposedly been told during several phone calls. I needed to change some dollars to dirhams and they got a bit spooked when I suggested that Duygu go to the riad while I changed the money.

We found a money changer on the round-a-bout near the Djemaa. I got inside just as the proprietor was about to pray. He asked me to wait five minutes and proceeded to unfurl his prayer rug behind the counter. Five minutes later he was again ready for business.

Money exchanged, Hassan and Isham happily paid, Duygu and I headed back to Riad Dar Naïma to freshen up before heading out again. After the long day, the going out again seemed less and less appealing after relaxing in the bath. We ended up heading to bed instead.

After a lovely breakfast served by the jovial Zahira, we were off on foot for sightseeing. We headed back across the Djemaa and through the souks to find the Marrakech Museum, housed in Dar Mnebbi. Built in the early 20th century, it had fallen to neglect after Moroccan independence in 1956. It was restored in 1997 and is now home to some exhibits and a massive lamp in the main courtyard of the old hammam.

Around the corner we visited Ben Youssef Medersa a spectacular koranic school. We spent quite a bit of time reveling in the space, it’s architecture and design elements. Off of the main courtyard were two wings of dormitories. One of the rooms had some pieces set up to resemble what would have been there for the students when the school was active.

We wandered around a less touristy area for a while afterwards, taking in a more traditional Marrakech market street. Lots of vegetables on carts and clothing in piles on the side of the roadway.

We happened on a little cafe that had a misting system over the curbside seating. It was a welcome respite from the heat. We had a couscous and kefta dish that was good. Duygu enjoyed a french toddler named Alexander whose family sat down in front of us.

After lunch we tried to track down the Ensemble Artisenal, a state run school for traditional arts and crafts. We spent and increasingly maddening time following signs out of the souk. After getting turned around several times, we found someone who said it was close and was happy to take us to it. This turned out to a large shop named Ensemble Artisenal de Dar Es Salaam. Definitely not what we were looking for. We finally came across someone who understood what we were after and some kids nearby to help us find it. We bought them some cold Fanta along the way and they seemed happy. The Ensemble was super low key and welcome relief from the aggressiveness in the souk. Duygu looked a several jewelry shops but did not find anything that suited her.

We then trekked to the Majorelle Garden to catch it before closing. Originally the home of painter Jacques Majorelle, the house and grounds had been purchased by Yves Saint Laurent. His foundation now maintains the grounds and his personal collection of Berber textiles and jewelry is on exhibit in the house. The presentation and the materials on display were fantastic. A side room with jewelry was in subdued lighting and projection system that made a faux starry night sky on the mirrored walls.

The garden grounds were a nice and cool break from our hiking around. We stayed until just before closing. Duygu was hungry after we exited the gardens so we stopped at a little cafe nearby, Kaowa. It was an upscale place with a gallery and concept store attached. We enjoyed gazpacho, and watermelon and some coffee before they too closed for the evening.

We hiked back to the riad in the gathering dusk. On the way back we passed another riad with a sign for excursions out on the street. We spoke to a gentleman about getting to Telouet, an old ruin southeast of Marrakech. He explained some options and we told him we would think about it while we freshened up. After mulling over the options of a bus ride, shared taxi ride, or a private car, we decided a private car would be a good bet. We could go where we wanted for the day at our own pace, stopping wherever we liked to take photos along the way. We went back and organized the trip with Hassan, who promised that he would join us if he was not able to find an English speaking driver. We put down a deposit and arranged to meet at 7AM near the gate to our area of the Medina.

We then headed on to the Djemaa for another round of khoudenjal, the hot spiced drink.

Istanbul

Midnight at Sabiha Gökçen for a 1AM Air Arabia flight to Casablanca, Morocco. Lots of interesting looks among the other passengers. Dark black outfits with lots of gold and bling on cell phones.

A little dank and musty on the plane. Going to be a long 4h flight for my nose.

Dozed through the rest of the flight. Woke occasionally for the baby three rows ahead that cried the entire four hours. Duygu reports absolutely no service, despite repeated attempts to get an attendant to bring water.

Casablanca

The Casablanca Airport was quiet. Our flight seemed to be the only one at 4am. Seemingly everyone wanted to see our passports: immigration officer, security guard directly after, money exchange clerk, baggage control at the exit.

Had a coffee while we waited for the train into town. Duygu talked to a Turkish window who had travelled extensively.

Had a short train ride into Casablanca. Caught the train to Marrakech 10 minutes after we arrived. Duygu was distracted by conversation with the Turkish widow from Bodrum. I dozed off for the beginning of the trip. Woke to the sounds of a crying child right behind us, Duygu and our train companion both asleep.

Passed through an arid landscape dotted with small settlements. Lots of sheep and goats nibbling all the smaller vegetation to the ground. They seem to have left a short grain standing however, and this was being harvested in a couple of locations. Saw olive trees, prickly pear cactus, eucalyptus, yucca, and what may have been the native argan tree.

Marrakech

We were set upon by taxi drivers as soon as we got outside the station in Marrakech. The first offer was for 200 dirhams ( $23.29 ). We eventually got it down to a more reasonable 25 dhm ( $2.91 ). We got dropped off by a entryway into a warren of small side-streets, most only wide enough for foot and donkey traffic. I set off a bit blindly behind some other tourists…only to return to the bigger side-street a few minutes later instead of getting horribly lost.

A kind gentleman pointed us in the right direction. Way down the bigger street and then ducking into a tiny alleyway. We were greeted by the manager of Riad Dar Naïma. Through some very halting mix of French and English, we were offered mint tea ( thé à la menthe ) and told that our room needed to be cleaned. After we had finished out tea, we were shown to a room that was remarkably different from what had been pictured online. After some protestation and some confused looks from the manager, we were told that the room we had book would not be ready until 1PM, about 1.5 hours later.

We left our larger luggage and headed out into the warren of streets near the riad. The little pathways were barely wide enough for a person and a donkey cart to pass each other. Each side was lined with tiny storefronts, most barely 2 meters wide. These offered a dazzling variety of items, foodstuffs, services. Everything from little sundries for locals, fruit, vegetables, tailors, leather crafts, metalwork, fabric, clothing, ceramics. Some portions were covered with a latticework or reed roof, other stretches of the path were open the the blazing noon sun.

After a bit of walking around we heard someone mention that the tannery was a certain direction. He was more than happy to show us the way. And a long way it was in the mid-day heat. We were greeted at the tannery by another gentleman who had mint to keep the smell at bay. I didn’t need any and the bit that was given to Duygu was not enough to keep the ammoniac stench of the pigeon dropping leather softener at bay. We made a very quick circuit and then took our leave with a small bit of money to our ‘guide’.

We had a bit to eat at Le Bougainvillier, a place with a giant bougainvillea growing over a fountain on one wall. After our repast we headed back to the riad. Our room was finally ready. It consisted of a large sitting room, a bedroom, along with a separate toilet and hammam-like bathing room with a large tub and shower. All the fixtures in bath, shower and sink were beautiful brass.

We relaxed for a bit in the sitting room before heading out to the famous Djemaa El Fna, a large plaza bustling with activity day and night. We were early for the evening activities there, so ducked into the souk ( market street ) on the far side of the square. The streets here were a bit wider, but no less bustling, with the shopkeepers accosting us in French, English and Italian. Duygu was called out to as Lady Gaga and I as “mustache”. Time and again we were accosted in Italian and Duygu wondered what it was about us that made all the touts think we were from Italy.

After two hours of wandering around, we headed back to the square to find more than half of it now covered with temporary restaurants. All were replete with a cooking area and seating either at long tables, or at a counter around the chef. There was a row of stalls peddling escargot, another longer row with all things sheep and goat with rows of heads on display and the promise of sweetbreads and brains. We opted for a more pedestrian place that offered a variety of tajines ( dishes cooked in an earthenware tray with a conical top. ) A French couple sat next to us. The lady was on her fourth trip to Morocco and he, his first.

I was excited to try out a after meal drink ( khoudenjal ) that was a mixture of spices, predominantly ginseng. Duygu took one sip and wrinkled her nose at how sweet it was. Mint tea was offered and someone was sent off across the plaza to procure it. I enjoyed a second cup before we wandered back across the plaza ( careful to give the snake charmers a wide berth ) toward the riad.