Fez.
More complex and more mazes than Marrakech. Busier and bustlier.
Past experience prompted us upon arrival at 10pm to be driven to the door from the bus stop. Twelve hours on a local bus over the Atlas Mountains meant that navigating unnamed streets in the dark would be asking for trouble.
The bus driver gave the young man a stern talking to. He had looked after us for the whole day and continued to do so.
The boy seemed to know where to take us. The run down van smelled of sheep and goats. Hasty clearing made a sort of place for us to sit.
Three attempts to find the place and much zipping and winding we found the Riad and the boy asked for double the price 'for all of his trouble'. Uhh no. This was our third taxi driver in our travels that week who did not know the way after claiming all knowledge.
The Riad was like a palace and had a pool in the courtyard.
It was in the old town. The new town is like all the others. We were in the old town - like all the others.
The guide we hired the next day to take us on a tour did know the unnamed streets and knew the best places to visit. The university. The mosque that educates people for free. The tannery (upon request). The markets, bakery, shoe making place, narrowest street, the cloth making place, the cafe with the old man, the jewellery shop.
Fez is hot.
Fez is smelly....good smells and working smells. wonderful wafty baking smells, musty meat on hooks smells.
The kids were coming home from school. The ran around like all kids. They bought lollies at the 'corner shop'. They knocked us with their bags as they ran past. They made me smile with the familiarity. Kids are kids are kids - everywhere. Love 'em. Marrakech was a foreign city. Fez had many points of contact. Men working hard, kids and school, friendly people, familiar places, familiar activities.
A magical day. A swim in the pool. A traditional bath and then a soothing massage. Dinner on the terrace then blissful sleep.
What a day. No getting lost. Everything good. A pampered experience. A skewed insight maybe, but so nice.
I think that I could do this again.
More complex and more mazes than Marrakech. Busier and bustlier.
Past experience prompted us upon arrival at 10pm to be driven to the door from the bus stop. Twelve hours on a local bus over the Atlas Mountains meant that navigating unnamed streets in the dark would be asking for trouble.
The bus driver gave the young man a stern talking to. He had looked after us for the whole day and continued to do so.
The boy seemed to know where to take us. The run down van smelled of sheep and goats. Hasty clearing made a sort of place for us to sit.
Three attempts to find the place and much zipping and winding we found the Riad and the boy asked for double the price 'for all of his trouble'. Uhh no. This was our third taxi driver in our travels that week who did not know the way after claiming all knowledge.
The Riad was like a palace and had a pool in the courtyard.
It was in the old town. The new town is like all the others. We were in the old town - like all the others.
The guide we hired the next day to take us on a tour did know the unnamed streets and knew the best places to visit. The university. The mosque that educates people for free. The tannery (upon request). The markets, bakery, shoe making place, narrowest street, the cloth making place, the cafe with the old man, the jewellery shop.
Fez is hot.
Fez is smelly....good smells and working smells. wonderful wafty baking smells, musty meat on hooks smells.
The kids were coming home from school. The ran around like all kids. They bought lollies at the 'corner shop'. They knocked us with their bags as they ran past. They made me smile with the familiarity. Kids are kids are kids - everywhere. Love 'em. Marrakech was a foreign city. Fez had many points of contact. Men working hard, kids and school, friendly people, familiar places, familiar activities.
A magical day. A swim in the pool. A traditional bath and then a soothing massage. Dinner on the terrace then blissful sleep.
What a day. No getting lost. Everything good. A pampered experience. A skewed insight maybe, but so nice.
I think that I could do this again.
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