Shukran Fes

This is another "'Grab a cup of tea' blog people. We crammed in a heck of a lot in Fes so its a good read. Hope you enjoy.

We are writing this from a train to Bern in Switzerland. Luckily a lot was already written but mostly a giant brain dump of thoughts with very little structure, there is so much going on in Morocco that your brain goes a million miles an hour and structure and logic seem not to apply – a little like this blog was looking before the train. 

Fes and the surrounding region has lots to see so we got busy and got out there.

Some of the Roman ruins at Volubilis

Train to Fes

After only just making our train we collapse in our seats and take a few moments to gather ourselves. There are two other men in our compartment who begin chatting to us, asking where we’re from, what we’re seeing in Morocco and general small talk. One of them left Morocco to work as a chef in Sweden and Norway and was home to visit his family, the other had been on a 5 day desert tour from Fes to Marrakech and was returning home. By the end of the eight hour train we are invited to Meknes to have a meal cooked by the Moroccan\Swedish chef, have a guided tour of the Fes Medina organised for the next day and am meeting the other Moroccan for drinks the next night. It all comes so naturally and they’re so generous, buying us drinks and lunch on the train. We are genuinely excited about making some local friends.

Looking out the window of the train we pass through some of the drier countryside. There are a particular kind of cactus growing, the round green ones with long spikes and on them are red dots. The men on the train told us that these cactus fruit are delicious and refreshing as they are always cool when you peel them open, even on a forty degree day. 

We say farewell to our new friends, the chef gets off in Meknes 30 minutes out of Fes and we meet our guide for the next day when we exit the train in Fes, he says to us that he cannot meet us at the riad and we must meet him up the road, otherwise he must pay the riad a commission. We think this sounds unfair so we agree and we’ll meet up with our other train friend at the same place. On the way out they say “we must go out the other exit, your driver knows me and if he sees us together he will tell the riad owner who will then treat you different for not using his inhouse services.” Again we think this is a bit strange but sure enough when we meet our driver he says “did anyone on the train speak to you?” we stick to the story “No, no one spoke to us”. He goes on to tell us that they have a large problem of tourists being targeted on the train to Fes by conmen and ‘false guides’. In Fes you must be a licensed guide, trained by the government and accredited, to show tourists around. Non licensed ‘false’ guides can face jail time if caught by the tourist police. We are also told that some will invite you to come to dinner with their family, and then get scammed another way. 

Needless to say we’re immediately thrown, were our ‘friends’ from the train legitimate or just out to scam us? We spend an hour at the riad googling “morocco scams”. Totally conflicted about the situation we decide to protect ourselves even at the risk of forfeiting some genuine experiences. This doesn’t come easy and we feel pretty ordinary about standing up these people who for all we know were completely genuine and the riads were just out for our cash. Have we just missed out on a truly wonderful cultural experience? We’ll never know. 

Around the Riad.

The weather has turned and on arrival in Fes it’s raining hard which continues the next day. Amy is sick with a bad cold and we decide to spend the day in being lazy, watching shows and having a ‘Sunday’. We duck out for lunch and the riad owner recommends his cousins restaurant. We’re too new to the area to wander off on our own, the prices are reasonable so we agree and get a cab to the big gate to get something to eat. The food is decent, a steaming hot tagine and a crunchy pastille. The pastille was a new experience, its crunchy pastry filled with almost a dry meat curry, it’s then topped with icing sugar and nutmeg. It is delicious but you can’t figure out whether you’re eating savoury or sweet. We pick up some snack food to get us through the evening and return to the riad to stay warm and get well. It is here that we get our first sight of the ‘big blue gate’. All the medinas have entries via beautiful gates, and this one is something. 

Day Trip Volubilis and Meknes

We had arranged a private day trip with a driver to take us out to Volubilis and Meknes with the riad. I am sure we could have gotten a much cheaper deal shopping around but we’re on ‘holiday’ in Morocco and the budgetary restrictions are a little looser here, and everything is cheaper.

We first stop at a hill overlooking a large manmade reservoir. The view over the green rolling hills, clear sky and the fresh air is superb. We stop next one of the innumerable side of the road stalls selling olives, fruit and vegetables

We never imagined Morocco as having green areas, but from Fez to Meknes and beyond there are green rolling hills with olive and fruit trees reaching to the horizon. It is very fertile land and they grow some of the best olives in the world we are told. On the side of the road are fruit and olive sellers, their wares laid out in the sun and freshly picked. The prices our driver says, are the best you will find straight from the growers, as we drive past olive presses he tells us the olive oil is sensational and to always buy direct from the farmer. We don’t like olives though and a pomegranate on the road is a difficult snack so we do not stop. Although we do appreciate the fact that a kg of pomegranates or grenades as they are called is only a $1, we have paid $6 for a single one in Aus. 

 

We along with the rest of the tourists arrive at Voloubilis, 2000 year old roman ruins in relatively good condition. These ruins are spread across 42 hectares of land, but the best bits can be seen relatively close together. There are guides for hire, but we decide to do it ourselves, we are happy to ponder and take photos, we have seen a lot of ruins. Also we eavesdrop on the other guides. We loved the way that this place is so open, you can come and walk on it, touch it, whereas other places would have this far more preserved. We did get carried away and climb up a wall for a better view, we were quickly whistled at by a police officer who was perched on a hill, we speedily got down. We weren’t the only ones whistled at while we were there so we felt a little less like naughty school kids. These beautiful ruins are situated right in the fertile land, and have stunning sweeping views across the rolling hills and fruitful valleys. 

We arrive at Meknes and enjoy a lavish feast for lunch at a recommended restaurant, along with a bottle of the local red. We heard Moroccan wine was not to be missed. Waddling out, we explored the small city of Meknes. Meknes is often overlooked by tourists in favour of Fes, but it is a lot quieter and there is a lot less annoying attention from the vendors, the streets are wider and cleaner. We see a really big and beautiful gate (bab) to the medina and think that’s big, only later do we realise this is the biggest bab in Morocco and the second biggest in Africa. We stumble upon wonderful pieces of architecture. 

Not the biggest gate, just an entry to a beautiful spot

 

As a side note, there is something beautiful about roaming the streets and seeing men work their crafts. We were told by some UK architecture students that this is the last generation doing some of these trades or crafts as the new generation has no interest. We watched in awe of man doing plaster sculpting, this can be seen in every home or building in morocco decorative plaster lines the walls. We watched him chisel with the precision that only a lifetime brings, not minding at all while we peeked over his shoulder. At our time in Meknes we watched in on a man creating art out of iron castings, and hammering silver thread in decorative patterns. He told us he can only do 2 hours at a time because of the amount of concentration and strain it causes on his eyes (because of the fine thread) and his ears (because of the pounding on iron). 

 

Fes Medina and Surrounds

Today we exit the Riad differently and soon realise we are at a dead end, on the journey we have picked up a new friend 10 year old Kahlim, he introduces himself proudly to me and we have a little chat with him of course speaking French, Arabic and a little English. He helps us find our way back, although we didn’t need his assistance. I tip him 1 Euro and Simon tells me I am a sucker for a cute boy, I say he looked proud as punch wearing a grin from ear to ear, and it was worth it to bless his day. As he walks as back he proudly shows his 1 Euro to the adults in the street, very chuffed indeed.

We are told to use the petite taxis in Fes which use meters. The taxi drivers in Fes are much more agreeable and use the meter regularly, we didn’t see this once in Marrakech. An average trip for us from our riad to the main gate is less than a dollars fare. We always pay 10 dirhams though, who can complain about a $1.50 lift somewhere? 

Today we brave it, and enter the Fes medina, in here there are 9000 streets and even the lifetime locals get lost. We had a plan to see certain things, and today was not about veering off path, so no matter how inviting a little alleyway looked we didn’t dare deviate. The souks are even bigger than Marrakech and we ask ourselves how anyone can make a living all selling nearly the same things.

You look at the narrow streets never knowing what you will see, perhaps a man beating a cow skin holding it by the tail. Boys kick a box in the street playing soccer, it flies in the air and nearly hits me in the head, I smile and laugh as they run over saying “sorry madam, sorry madam” – it’s all fun, I nearly kicked it back to them but didn’t know the protocol on women involving themselves in the box soccer game. 

Inside every beautiful building there are many different patterns in tile work, in gorgeous colours. We have said before that all the craftsmanship is amazing and the detail is mind blowing on some of the plasterwork such as the Medersa Bou Inania – This 14^th century college constructed by the Merenids is the finest example of Fes’s theological colleges. The sellij (tiling), muqarnas (plasterwork) and woodwork is astonishing.

A mosaic of mosaics from around Fes.

 The Fes tanneries are renowned the world over, and we knew we wanted to see them on high from someone’s shop. We made our way down and soon two men were contending for our business to come to their shop. One was downstairs one was upstairs, and thank God there was no swords around or we would have seen a dual. We choose a winner, and as we enter his store he offers us a Moroccan gas mask, a bunch of torn mint is handed our way. On the top floor we see skins draped everywhere, off buildings and houses, and below are huge drums of dye and men working harder in a day than most work in a month. The skins spend one week in natural ammonia, 4 days in colour and 2 days drying. They change the colour each week, we were there for dark colours, and they drain it down the river… We know the pitch is coming for his shop, not intending to buy we offer him a tip for his time, he tells us it’s not enough, we give him more, it’s worth it but its just another lesson to be clear on terms at the outset. Please note goat leather is very soft and is the way to go on your next purchase. 

 We continue wandering the streets of the medina, funnily enough today we don’t seem to be hassled so much. We think it’s because we are walking with purpose our heads are high, back straight and avoiding eye contact. We can’t help but look like tourists, but looking like an easy target is another thing. We walk around a corner and a donkey is in our face forcing us to move as he carries a load of heavy skins on his back headed for the tannery. Only donkeys (little taxis) and mules (big taxis) are allowed in the medina making it the worlds largest car and vehicle free urban area.

A small sample of the many leather products

Snail soup is sold on the street by vendors with boiling pots of broth with bread on the side. The smell is unique, unlike anything we’ve smelt before. It’s not offensive or bad just really different. It’s super cheap too at less than 10 dirham a serve. We like to try new things but snail street soup is probably outside the limits for us.

Lining the laneways of the medina there are butchers mixed with ‘restaurants’. In the windows the cooked chicken sits in with the raw chicken without divide or effort to keep separate. The owners wave and call to us, “come in, you want something to eat?” We keep walking, salmonella seems to be on the menu today and we’re not buying.

We lose track of time in here and hunger is kept at bay by various smells wafting through the air. It’s hard to build up a hunger when you are looking at open air butchers with chickens in cages, no points for guessing where they’re going (dinner table!). The smell in the medina of butchers, tanners and assorted rotting decay is at times nausea inducing. Hunger has left us alone since arriving in Morocco even though the food is delicious the smell is just… off putting. This place is some people’s summer paradise, but we can’t help but think what it must smell like on a 40 or above summer day. 

We find ourselves at Seffarine square – This small square is the copperwork centre of the medina. All day you can hear and see coppersmiths banging, smoothing, and polishing their finest wares. Everything from small teapots to massive pots and tubs. Some of the products are outstanding and the prices are some of the best you’ll find anywhere for copper products.

Not the square - just another little bit of Morocco

Just around the corner is Kairaouine Mosque and University. The second largest mosque in the world capable of holding twenty thousand worshippers along with one of the oldest teaching institutions in the world. The spiritual heart of Morocco and the centre of the medina this building is off limits to non-Muslims (like all mosques) but we managed some peeks through gates, gaps and open doors. Stunning inside and out.

Nearby is Medersa El-Attarine it is similar to the Medersa Bou Inania with beautiful tile, plaster and woodwork this Medersa was built as an annexe to the adjacent mosque and university.

Eventually hunger is upon us, and we head to the renowned hippie and tourist hangout Café Clock. This laid back café has a rooftop terrace which overlooks the medina and serves fusion Moroccan and western food, it was the perfect place to relax. For something different Simon enjoys a camel burger which can only be described as sweet lamb and washes it down with a date milkshake.

We return to Café Clock for their Sunday Live Moroccan Music, and walk into a packed venue with locals and tourists. Moroccan music fills the three stories, breathing joy into the place and dancing and clapping erupts and everyone can’t help but move to the exotic rhythms, even in their seats. 

 

Outside the medina citrus trees line the streets and parks of Fes and surrounding cities. The oranges on them prominently hanging decorating the sidewalks, parks and public areas. We had asked our driver the previous day if you can just help yourself he says “you would not want to, they need the sugar”. Once again everything in Morocco is sweetened, even the public oranges.

Chefchaouen

Rising early in the morning and taking the taxi to the bus station the driver doesn’t run the meter but he assures us 7 dirham for the ride ($1) we agree given that’s about the standard fare. On arriving at the station I hand him a 50 dirham note and he hands me 25 change. I signal for the rest, where is my change, you said 7! He speaks back in French something, we have no idea what. We frown and ask again but he shrugs and again says something in French. We both stare daggers at the driver and get out. We will not trust a taxis word again.

Chefchaouen is a small town that is famous for being blue. The local people literally paint the town blue which gives the place a Mediterranean feel and vibe. It’s only a short bus ride, four hours, from Fes. Of course I’m kidding, 8 hours on a bus for a day trip is full on but given we’re accustomed to such craziness we’re on the bus before the sun is up and on our way.

Heading out of the old town there is lots of housing construction and development, many apartments, units and terrace homes are being built and skeletal buildings run for blocks and blocks on the outskirts of town. Morocco is modernising and with that the ultra-dense living arrangements of yesteryear are giving way to more space and privacy. 

Sure enough, the pictures did not lie, and Chefchaouen was a true highlight of Morocco. The town is the most gorgeous shades of blue varying from place to place. We happily spent the afternoon exploring the medina, photographing doors and climbing to the top of the town and surveying the valley we were in. We also explored the local Kasbah, a former fortress that is now a museum and garden. A beautifully serene place to look out over the town and get away from the restaurant hawkers.

You see so many gorgeous doors, because they don’t do the whole house blue usually just about halfway up, it’s cheaper that way we guess. Chefchaouen is known as the hippy village, and many travellers find their way here usually for its famous and seemingly unregulated weed, which is offered on every corner. Apparently if you go far enough into the hills, you will stumble on the plantations. 

 Leaving Fes

Before we departed on another 8 hour journey we headed to Jardin Jnan Sbil, a beautiful garden not far from the medina. You walk in and feel a sense of tranquillity, fountains are everywhere accompanied by manicured sculpted gardens. It is also home to a clowder of cats that hang out in the sun and hide amongst the trees like small tigers. A small pond at the end of the garden with palm trees makes a great place to sit and take in the sun on a bright day.

 

We left for the train station and finally made a stress free connection.

Simon and Amy  xoxo

As-salamu alaykum Marrakech

We started writing our Morocco post on a bus to Chefchaoun, it was then on this 4 hour journey when we started brain dumping thoughts that we knew it would be impossible to write Morrocco in one post and to show all the pics, so we have decided to split it over 3 –if we can find the time. Morocco is so big, so diverse and every morning brings a new place to explore, more sense filling moments, another long days journey and another day fending off sellers with “non merci” “no thankyou” or “lay shukran.” 

A quick photo from the road - Simon having a straight razor shave, they are famous for doing it properly in Morocco. Apparently it was one of the best he's ever had, the guy wanted about $4 for doing it, so we doubled his money he deserved it!

 

The plane from Barcelona to Marrakech is completely sold out. We are asked if we want to check any hand luggage for free given the full flight. To us this is bizarre as we didn’t think it would be a super popular route. We soon find ourselves surrounded with black and white jerseys. The FC world cup is on in Marrakech and the plane is full of Brazilians who have flown 12 hours to see their club play in Marrakech against the Casablanca Raja FC. They boast and talk big about a 5-0 win they expect. As the plane lands they burst in the club chant and clap and cheer. We join in, why not get caught up in the excitement?

 

In our last post we said we were staying at a beautiful riad. We had a beautiful room that in typical riad style opened to the internal patio over the central courtyard and pool. The open roof to the courtyard is covered in clear plastic letting the sun in but keeping out the birds and rain. To look at from the outside you see a red washed building with a solid wooden front door. You couldn’t imagine the peace, quiet and tranquillity inside from the hustle, noise and chaos outside. But Morocco seems to do bi-polar well with its outside craziness and inside peace and tranquillity on a scale unimagined. 

Finding ourselves in our heavenly riad, we decide to maximise it by lounging around drinking Moroccan mint tea, blogging and planning our trip to Italy. It’s amazing what we can achieve in one day – an entire two week trip to Italy researched, planned and booked. Even spending a little time on the rooftop lounge to get in our Vitamin D. Stepping outside only to enjoy our first Moroccan meal at lunch, then we headed back to the riad and dined in house for dinner by the fireplace.

Ok day 2 is here and relaxation over, and now that our bodies have officially de-stressed a cold has found its way to Amy – she blames it on the sardine style Barcelona transport. Breakfast in our riad is a delicious and unique experience with everyone only speaking French and Arabic, this is an issue because saying hello, thankyou, counting to ten and being able to say ‘the cat’ doesn’t quiet cut it. Every morning bread is served at breakfast, its different to the bread we have had across the sea in Europe. Msemen is a sweet and stretchy dough that has been cooked on a flat grill before we eat it making it even softer. Tasty to eat on its own or with some butter and jam smothered on is great, we will try and make it when we return. 

While on the hunt for our first stop of the day we found a gorgeous photography museum housing some of the very first photos ever captured of Morocco from the 1800’s. Set in a beautiful riad, this place transported us to a very different time, far away from tourists roaming the streets hunting for the best bargain. 

We made our way to Ben Youssef Madrasa which is now an abandoned former Islamic school. People visit for the architecture and it is gorgeous, every form of Moroccan craftsmanship is on display. 

Next to Ben Youssef is the Museum of Marrakech, at only 10 Dirham ($1.40) each entry we couldn’t resist – entry fees are so cheap in Morocco. Everything was in French and Arabic but the architecture in this building was reason enough to visit.

 

The afternoon was spent exploring the famous souks, it is like a choose your own adventure for grown ups with new and exciting ally ways appearing. Often we would do rock paper and scissors to decide to go left or right. Of course after about 2 hours of looking at beautiful things, being pulled this way and that, fending off continual “come into my shop, good price” we were completely lost. Luckily there are signs above to point you to main areas, and we just kept following them for what felt like a good 30 minutes until finally we were out. To be honest the whole point of the souks is to get lost, its great, if you ever get the chance just embrace it and enjoy it. 

As you walking through the medina colours pop at you, carpets, shoes, scarves, everything is a kaleidoscope of colour. Little holes in the wall filled with silk scarves of every colours. Poofs (the foot rests) line the walls like a round tapestry of interlinking colour. There is brightness and colour in everything from the womens traditional clothing to the slippers worn under the robes of the men.

While you take it all in, a motorcycle or cart is there again on your tail, you’re lucky if he slows down for you. At first it takes some getting used to, but there is a rhythm to the dodging and weeving, a dance that the locals know well, its effortless for them. We find our groove and tune in our ears to hear them coming and make a quick step to the right – always move to the right side in Morocco if you want to live another day.

 

It goes without saying that the Moroccans are known for their spice markets; fragrant spices and some of other natures best offerings are available at every second store. Argean oil (Moroccan oil) is the new big thing and every tourist wants a piece and the locals know it – if only we could have bought some. Additionally, the dried fruits and nuts are plentiful, divine and cheap, you can see Simon making a purchase.

You may be asking why is there a picture of a bunch of cats?  Cats are everywhere, you can’t go a minute without seeing them, let alone eat outside without at least 6 surrounding you.  We have been told that it's OK because they keep away the mice. They are Morocco’s gift to visitors and we should feel free to take one home with us remarks one shop keeper.

You step out of your riad and all your senses are fully engaged. There is touch, you are always being pulled a pushed and brushing up against someone in the medina and especially in the souk. There is the sound, the hussle and bussle around you and noise from the cars beeping and the motorbike behind you just about to knock you off your feet as it flies through the souks, of course there is the hassling “please madame come into my store” continuously. There is sight, so much to see, so many colours, patterns, beautiful wares, people, donkeys, the meat hanging outside of open air butchers, and people selling their own veges on the ground so you need to dodge them before you step on them or in a pile of rubbish. Then there is smell, it can be described as pungent always present, but not always pleasant. The scent varies depending where you are but it seems to come like a wave enveloping you where you have nowhere to run and hide but to hold your breath and carry on. Whether it’s the pile of rubbish on the corner, the waft of a donkey, walking past the open air butchers or fish market on a warm day, or just the occasional smell of urine - nothing prepares your nose. However it’s the taste that makes it all worthwhile, the fresh orange juice for only 60cents a glass, the boiling hot tagines and cous cous, the amazing mint tea and Moroccan flat bread in the morning.

One of our favourite photos from Morocco is this one. Where else would you see this, a goats head with a chameleon just hanging out on its head? 

None of this sensory overload compares to when you enter Jemaa El Fna or ‘the square’. By day (see picture below on top right) this square is relatively empty except for the carts by the dozen all selling their delicious fresh OJ. By night this place comes to life! Apart from all the food vendors desperate for your business, there are monkeys dancing around (photo for a fee), henna artists grabbing at you, boxing matches, music, and constant motion and activity, then there are taxis bussling through and you have no idea who is giving way to who.  Just when you think you’ve nearly made it through there is another 6 cobras on the ground dancing for their charmers. This is the worst because their charming instruments block your senses and you suddenly are watching every footstep afraid of stepping on a snake, but thankfully some of them have hawks ready to pounce should a snake roam free. There is no quiet corner, no space to think, everything and everyone is in your face – nothing is free and don’t stop to look or else you’ll end up with a snake draped around you and paying for its removal or so we saw.

 

You see here some beautiful bright cactus fruit. Thats right they grow on cacti, the inside looks like beetroot and stains your fingers the same way. The fruit is cool and refreshing even in summer, sweet, but with loads of pips. A great tasting experience for only 20cents.

Amy is a novelty over here, the blue eyes, blonde hair and fair skin really has heads turning and it can be uncomfortable when people look you up and down from head to toe on a 10 second basis. Young girls look and stare as if they are having their own cultural experience, this is endearing and sweet. Men and teenage boys stare for all the reasons they shouldn’t, and women stare sometimes offering a smile and polite remark such as “you have beautiful eyes”. Going back to the riad always offers a welcome break from the constant eyes outside. Having Simon by her side is more than helpful, Moroccan men are a lot more respectful when they understand you are married, although Simon is frequently told by the local men that he is a lucky man. 

Over the speaker it comes Allah Akbar, here it is again another minaret call. At least today we slept through the 5am call. It always seems to come at an inconvenient moment and can be a real mood or sleep killer, it stays for about 2 minutes (although it feels like longer). We wake to tackle another day.

We head out to our next adventure but with the football in town the cabbies have free reign to charge what they want. The usual fare of 30 dirham is doubled or more depending on who you ask to take you. They won’t budge from 70 dirham to take us to the train station until we threaten to walk and it drops to 60. Fine. With the chaos going on around with the wild football fans filling the streets inside a cab is not a bad place to be.

I go to put my seatbelt on, but alas no seatbelt, the taxi driver laughs and says “no seatbelts, you’re in Morocco” – I laugh nervously and think to myself isn’t that exactly why I need the seatbelt? Our knuckles are white as we hang on so tightly, dodging what we think are near misses every 20 seconds, all we can do is laugh and enjoy ‘the experience’. Out of the windows it is madness mobs are walking on the side of the road either waving banners for Raja or Brazil. Cars are packed with people all wearing green for Raja and the windows are down flying the team flag proudly as they beep their cars.

We find ourselves in Jardin Majorelle, which offers a wonderful break from the chaos outside, it is cool and refreshing. This garden boasts vibrant coloured pots, incredibly diverse succulents and cacti from around the world and a memorial to YSL.

I make the mistake of wearing green on football day, so I get suspect looks from the Brazilians, and the Moroccons excitedly nod and wave the Raja flag at me. Half way through the day I finally put this all together when someone says “ah you’re going for Raja”, a frazzled look comes over my face and he says “youre wearing green”, I look down and laugh “oh I didn’t realise, I just put this on”, followed by a sheepish grin.

We visited the Saadian tombs where the princes and royalty of the Saadian dynasty are buried, again we find ourselves in tranquillity behind high walls, even though it is mayhem outside these walls.

In Morocco there are so many unhelpfuls trying to be helpful – or is it the other way around? We make our way back to the riad for a break, then we see him, “the road is closed” he tells us. Everyday he says the road is closed. This is the 3^rd time today he has told us the road is closed, he doesn’t even remember us, there’s obviously been a lot of tourists he’s tried to hustle today. We laugh at him as he moves towards us, and before he opens his mouth we smile and say “we know we know the road is closed” and brush past him into the ‘closed road’. We wonder how many people fall for this, were sure he just guides you to his cousins shop. The best one we have heard is “you cant go down here there is a mosque, so you cant go, come with me Ill show you another way”.

Ahh the gorgeous old gem of Palais de la bahia. At its peak this was a palace of Moroccan dreams, but now it has been left to deteriorate, leaving only your imagination to piece together its majesty. Orange trees grow where the giant pools once were, and storks have made the top of this palace home for their giant nests. The best part its only $1.50 to enter and even though these are ruins you can feel free to climb and explore – no preservation in Morocco. We climb its towers and watch the sunset over the city of Marrakech.

Footy night is upon us, we are told that it is wise to be back at the Riad by the time the game finishes and things will get a little crazy out there. We head to the square for dinner, its quiet out here, even the snakes and their charmers are home tonight.

Just as we sit down Morocco scores a goal – the radios are on everywhere for those who have to work, but work is furthest thing from their mind tonight. Cheers and clapping rise up for Raja and their goal we cant help but be swept up in it as we raise our hands to clap Raja’s success. The atmosphere in the street is electric, we can only imagine what it would be like at the game – football we think is the second religion to Islam here. Walking back to the riad we see locals huddled around small tvs in local restaurants. We stop to ask the score to a young man streaming the game on his laptop at the side of the street. He invites us over to the laptop and proudly shows us the score on the screen 2-1 Raja is in the lead. He is thrilled, and we smile back and say “Go Morocco” as we all cheer together.

 

The Close Call

Lately, it seems, it wouldn’t be a Amy and Simon blog without a drama of some kind. 

We book and pay for a taxi through our riad to pick us up at 12 our train departs at 12:55. 12 rolls around, no taxi, we wait, 12:10 the riad manager is concerned waiting with us on the street, 12:15, nothing, 12:20 we need to go. She says he’ll be here in 5 minutes, we give it another 5, 12:25 rolls along and we need to quit waiting, it’s a 15 minute ride on a good day. We hail a cab, even though we have paid for one, its tiny, we cram everything in, and somehow wedge ourselves in. We get in the cab and say “train station, fast, fast, hurry, hurry please”. The cab driver doesn’t know what’s going on, but he can see our faces and that says 1000 words. To his credit he puts pedal to the metal but that doesn’t help in bumper to bumper. 

We stop suddenly in the traffic and a motorbike hits the back of us, ‘this is it’ I think, ‘now we are going to have to stop because we’ve been in a crash’. Snap out of it we are in Morocco, the driver barely blinks, and as the motorbike goes around us the driver winds his window down to give a mouthful in Arabic to the kids on the bike. No insurance or detail exchange, just a quick ‘you boys are idiots’, we keep driving. We are sweating we can see the train station, but we are stationary in the traffic and we can’t run quick enough with the packs to make it worthwhile getting out. All we can do is stare at our watches and pray. 

We get there and in our hurry to get out we throw money at the driver – far too much in Moroccan terms but we don’t have time for change as we scramble our bags together and chuck them on minus the usual care we take not to damage our backs. He apologizes that he couldn’t get us here sooner, its not his fault I tell him its ok and not to worry.  The man has seen us at our worst. He has done what he can nearly crashing several times with his admirable insistence not to let anyone ahead of us.

We are sure weve missed it, its 12:54 we bolt, running with thongs on and 18 kilos on ours back on a tiled floor – don’t try this at home. I grip tightly with my toes, it hurts, I don’t care, we run desperately. The train is still there so we run through the gate, a hand is stuck out in front of me “tickets, tickets” he yells, Simon franticly hands them to him as we see the train 100 meters in front of us. We keep running at any second the wheels will start turning, we are on, we breathe, we find our seats and sit quietly still shaking. We are on for only seconds and the wheels start turning.

Simon & Amy xoxo

(We forgot a selfie, guess we were too busy running for the train)