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Published: July 26th 2023
Today we get to sample Morocco’s train system with a four hour ride south to the ancient city of Fes. The Tangier train station is an unexpectedly pleasant surprise - a large, opulent modern edifice that would put any train station in Melbourne to absolute shame … not that that would be all that hard.
The countryside south of Tangier doesn’t look all that dissimilar to the farmland back home - fertile and productive, with seemingly endless fields of olives, corn, oranges and other sundry fruit and vegetables, all grown under irrigation on an almost industrial scale. And we soon realise why it looks and feels so much like home - there are gum trees, lots of gum trees - the only things missing are the kangaroos.
We spend some of the time following the Atlantic Coast, where there’s no shortage of the same spectacular long wide golden sandy surf beaches that were in evidence yesterday near Tangier. Have I been walking around with my head in the sand, or has the world’s travel media been strangely silent on the subject of Moroccan beaches? (I think I may have mixed a metaphor there - I suppose you could walk around with your head in the sand, but presumably only if you had a large bucket.) There seem to be a few hotels springing up along here, but only a very few. Spain's only 50 kms or so north of here; their coastline’s drowning in hotels, and they’re all currently packed. This place is deserted by comparison, but I think the beaches here are much better, right up there with any we’ve been to. So what’s stopping people? Not so easy to get a beer perhaps? Young ladies worried about what might happen to them if they forget to pack their bikini tops?
Rather late in our journey we’re suddenly joined in our carriage by a very nice young Moroccan man who introduces himself as Mohammed (of course). He thanks us for visiting his country and after we’ve chatted for a while he produces pictures of his relatives in Melbourne. He tells us that he runs a restaurant in the city of Meknes, and is on his way to Fes to get some spices from his grandmother. He then leaves just as suddenly as he came, seemingly to take a phone call, and doesn’t come back. That was a bit strange.
We arrive in Fes and are immediately pounced upon by a taxi driver eager to take us to our accommodation … and on a tour of the city … and on tours to other sights in the area … and some not in the area …. He tells us that Fes is a dangerous place and that we must beware of being overcharged by scammers with vested interests. Hmmm. When we go to pay he tells us that he doesn’t have change for the note I try to give him. He suggests I go into the riad (guesthouse) to get some smaller notes, but when I get back he’s gone. Huh? A free taxi ride? So why have I got an uneasy feeling that this is somehow going to come back to haunt us.
We meet the owner of the riad who introduces himself as Reibal. Readers of earlier posts might remember that we spoke to him when we were in Montréal. His Booking.com account had been hacked and we fell for the subsequent scam hook, line and sinker.
And on the subject of scams, it seems that Mohammed, the guy who suddenly popped up out of the blue on the train and then disappeared just as quickly, was perhaps not quite what he seemed. We’re told the reason he would have left so suddenly would have been to call the taxi driver who ended up driving us here. The message would have been to keep an eye out for a couple of gullible looking Aussies; guys so naive that they believed he had relatives in Melbourne, and that it’d make perfect sense for him to travel all the way from Meknes to Fes just to collect a few handfuls of spices from Granny ….. As it currently stands however we’re a taxi fare in front, so what exactly do these guys have in store for us; it’s got to be something, and I’m sure it won’t be pleasant … and they know exactly where to find us. I think I can feel a very sleepless night coming on. Issy says the worst thing about all of this is having no idea who to trust, no matter how nice they might seem … and she’s right.
The riad is a traditional old four storey house on the edge of the Medina. As seems to be the case with most of these original buildings, it’s got no external windows; all the rooms look inwards to a central open courtyard. It’s all beautifully decorated in true Moroccan style - Moorish arches, fountains and mosaic tiles. It’s a lot hotter here than it was in Tangier, but all good there; there’s a small pool on the ground floor we can lie in to cool off.
Reibal tells us that we’re the only people staying at the riad at the moment, and that he‘s opened the whole place up just for us. This feels slightly strange, but maybe we’ll feel better after alcohol. We’re served dinner on the riad’s massive roof terrace, where it’s of course just us. Reibal tells us that getting a licence to serve alcohol in Morocco is very difficult. The main requirement seems to be that no one from outside is allowed to be able to see you drinking, so originally he was only able to serve grog down on the ground floor. But where there’s a will there’s a way - he eventually put up some semi-transparent blinds around the terrace, so now we can drink away up here to our heart’s content … except that our hearts aren’t content … they’re way too worried about Mohammed and taxi driver man breaking into the riad, drugging us and carting us off into the night never to be seen again. I hope our offspring eventually find out how we came to disappear - not knowing would be agonising.
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Home and Away
Bob Carlsen
Hacked Booking.com...
I recently made a reservation through Booking.com. When I didn't get a confirmation message, I called the hotel to see if I had a reservation. I didn't so made one directly. Then I called my credit card issuer, who confirmed that I had been charged for a night at the hotel. I immediately reported this as a fraudulent charge which they will remove. I will likely use another hotel reservation company in the future.