The Medieval City of Fes

A day, but what a day in Fes

What an entrance, the road in took us past the great gate of “Bab Fettouh“ with the huge cemetery on the hillside opposite, just below the “Borj Sud” (the southern fort)
Having managed to avoid getting the “motorcycle guide” killed in the process of trying to stop us and persuade us to use his services (he was riding alongside at 60km/h+ gesticulating wildly and trying to persuade us to visit his brothers shop, “best in Fes”, “best prices always”) we followed the signs for Centre Ville, it seemed along way in and with no map we just followed the compass on the GPS (otherwise known as the “Twatnav”) heading south until we reached a very ornate roundabout with an amazing spectacle stretching left and right, what seemed like millions of fairy lights streaming away, suspended from the palm trees running down the wide central boulevard of “Ave Hassan II”
We figured to park on this street as it was well lit, the magical apperance of the lights somewhat undone by the golden arches of a “McArabia”...yep it has even made it here!
We were hungry and McArabia didn't have any appeal, we had a vague idea to look for a street restaurant, but no idea where to start looking so we went a-wandering and looking a little lost heard a voice from the street ask if we were lost or were looking for something specific?
Her name turned out to be Ross, from England but originally New Zealand, she has set up a small Moroccan managed guest house in Moulay Idriss, near the Roman ruins of Volubilis (original plan took us past there, but it wasn't to be this time and unfortunately I don't have her card with contacts with me, but if you want to info on the lodge, drop me a message and I'll pass the details from the card on.)
She led us just around the corner and told us some of the better local street foods, one she particularly recommended was the “Mercuda” sandwich, a deep fried spiced mashed sweet potato cake, which is spread into a baguette with or without a fried egg on top, wrapped in newspaper for about US$0.60, a meal in itself! Wonderfully tasty and the little spot she recommended was certainly teeming with Moroccans, it seemed there were several businesses operating side by side, the guy selling what can only be described as re-fried haggis (a large minced meat sausage which he broke up and fried on a hot plate before putting in flat bread) another churning out French frites (fries or chips) and of course the brochette man, doing the shaslik kebabs (Brother said also very tasty)
Suitably fed we went for a wander to the not so shiny part of the second main street in town, which as we were to find out was almost always called “Boulevard Mohamed V” and just watched the end of a day, the tea places and cafe's closing for the night around the “Place Mohammed V”, at about 9 we figured we had better go and find somewhere to stay, there was only the one camp-site we could find listed, out by the new sports complex/football stadium on the road out toward Al Rachidia, so avoiding the usual chaos of the traffic circles, which sometimes you have right of way on and sometimes not, seems to involve the traffic lights in odd places and whoever is coming on to the circle and aiming for your side at the time! we found our way out to the stadium, sort of booked in (the guy on the desk was more interested in making sure we would use his suggested guide the next day for a city tour than help us find a camp spot that wasn't solely intended for a mobile camper van (which is what all the camp sites we came across almost exclusively cater to “camper cars” they call them, so it took a while to find a spot that wasn't rough gravel or rutted, hardened mud!
We agreed to the guide, which in the end was absolutely the right choice, (for 250 dirhams we would have a guide for the day including being driven around, negating the need to take the Landy into town and worry about secure parking!) had a rather entertaining hot shower (Brother was convinced that the 150 litre hot water heater that was plugged into a wall socket was going to fall off the 2 bolts that were kind of bolting it to the wall at any second) but it was hot!! then sat on the bonnet of the Landy for 10 minutes enjoying an wonderfully clear night sky and hit the sack, guide arranged for 8.30 in the morning.
So after a night punctuated by comings and goings of various camper cars, morning arrived, cold and clear and beautiful, we did the tea thing at wandered out to the gate to meet Hachim,
our guide for the day, loaded up into his “Dacia Logan (by Renault)” (a saloon version of a Renault Clio at an affordable price with pop-riveted badges, the deluxe versions seemed to have 2 pop-rivets per badge, the standard only 1 per badge and marie biscuits for tyres, bit like a 2CV) which seemed to represent the affordable motoring choice for many Moroccans (who didn't have a moped or a Mercedes)
First stop was the 7 gates of the Royal Palace (only 6 in the photo because the guards got a bit upset that they thought I might get the other wall in the picture, which you are not allowed to photograph) the Royal Palace is like a city within the city, where the King and all his relatives live in what was described as a different world, but the King is well liked even though he is fairly liberal, he took a wife who was not from a prestigious background, she was an ordinary student and the King was the first in history to break out of the protocols and marry the woman he loves rather than who was decided for him.
The gates are stunning and must take someone some fair time with the old tin of Brasso polish to keep them looking as good as they look! There is a reason for there being 7 gates, but honestly, there was so much good information passed on that day from Hachim, I am not going to even pretend to say I remember it!
The gates are just around the corner from the old Jewish quarter, the “Mellah” an area of town usually unique in having the balconies facing toward the street, apparently Arab homes were commonly built around a central courtyard, for reasons of the women not being visible from the street when in her own home (as well as for coolness and quietness) this stood true for most of the towns we saw, the old Jewish quarters would have balconies out into the street, usually the only area in the Medina to have such architecture.
From there we went to a car park somewhere down by the river, it was an odd place with a tourist map of where you were and where to go in 3 languages, but not a tourist in sight and on every rooftop a satellite dish protruding, changing the roof-scape to a bizarre mix of the modern against the ancient lines......there was rubbish everywhere and just over the wall there was a guy washing hides in the river, Hachim explained we would visit the tanneries first then go to where he was born and grew up.
There is little point in me trying to explain something that hasn't changed for a thousand years and has been written about by great authors, the sights and smells of the tanneries in Fes are simply magical, it must be amongst one of the physically demanding and dirty jobs there is, starting as a skin washer and progressing up through doing the lime vats, filled with pigeon crap as an alkaline to strip the wool from the hides on up through the hierarchy, the hundereds of year old waterwheel that “washes” the skins and the layers of debris built up between the dye pits from years of work, we had a view from a leather shop overlooking the work and to see it all laid out below in a kaleidoscope of amazing colours. The photos can not even really convey the sight, for more, have a search on-line.......see the photos I know, lazy of me!!
From there (after the obligatory look around the leather shop, which did have some amazing stuff, but just nothing for us this time) we wandered to the old “Andalusian” side of the Medina, Hachim explained that this is where he was born and grew up, but it wasn't the normal tourist place to go, a lot of the guides thought it was too unsafe and very difficult to find your way round and so avoided it. My first thought to this was that it was a good sales pitch, but true to his word, until just after lunch we wandered in this “old” part of the ancient city and we didn't see one other single tourist, yet saw some amazing things, on the other side of the river, there were tourists from the first 20 meters in!.
There are some 40,000 streets in Fes old medina, 9000 of them are dead ends, something like over 35kms of paths and roads wind and interconnect in a maze so extraordinary even the folk that live there sometimes get lost! (Hachim did get confused a one point, but no wonder!) The experience to wander the streets with a guide who grew up there, showing us some of the known, but more interestingly the lesser known sites was simply wonderful, often you can't see the sky, so sense of direction disappears with the sun and before long you are deep within the city, every little street a new sight, sound and smell, we were warned straight away that we would not hear the donkeys coming, as they put rubber on their hooves to protect, but we would hear shouts of “balak, balak” (look out, look out) almost all goods in the city are moved by donkey or handcart, there is a constant whirl of motion, such energy and life, souks selling different things grouped together, vegetables here, next street is the butcheries, the the fishmongers, spice sellers, wedding “components” (including the shoulder carried chair enclosures, made of tin sheet, ornately decorated, but incredibly badly made in the detail, but one use only by the families that bought them, then hired out to other families to recoup the original cost!) hardware, blacksmiths alley (Brother had his old pocket knife sharpened on a foot driven grindstone by a gentleman surrounded by photos of football players, turns out he used to play for the Moroccan National team in the 60's and 70's, he had been doing this for 20 years now, had his forge across the tiny street that he shared with a man who cooked sheep heads in the morning as a street snack delicacy.....then the smithy used the fire from mid-morning on.) the copper and brass smiths, pot makers, carpenters, garment makers, just a seemingly chaotic mix of all things which to the inhabitants, makes perfect sense.
All centred around the river which cuts the medina in two Oued Boukhrareb, where the tanneries are and some of the river has been covered over with a road for better access.
We wandered to the 13th century Medersa (religious school) which I believe was the Medersa el Oued, that although still in use as a boarding house is basically preserved as it was, with no restoration, when folk ceased to use it as a medersa, there was a disused mosque inside, with the central pool, the chamber for the mullah to face east, with just perfect acoustics so the priest could stay facing east and still speak with the worshippers to lead them in prayer. The woodwork, of old cedar, was all around, original from the 12th century, the designs and carvings beautifully done.
The pool used for teachings about “all is not as it seems” added a surreal beauty to the courtyard and the cat lounging in the sun just made the photo.
We wandered on, lunching at a small local restaurant on calamari and whitebait (small fried fish) with fries and bread.
Fes is not somewhere to describe in few words, even in a book you would not do it justice, it is a place to go and visit and experience, but with the Moroccan way with tourists, go warily.....
We had all in all a spectacular day and in the evening instead of doing the restaurant meal we had planned, we ended up back at the same street cafes, surrounded by the hubbub of life and comings and goings eating another mercuda sandwich and trying a Tagine from the cafe opposite, with what appeared to be a Rastafarian as a cook!
Back to the camp site finally, we sat having a beer from the refrigerator in the Landy and discussing whether we should stay another day or push on to see more.
The latter won and we got up early, broke camp and headed south the following morning......

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