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Published: January 31st 2008
The plan yesterday was to go to Moulay Idriss, one of Moroccos most important pilgramage sites Has apparently only been open to non Muslims for the past 70 years.
It is about half an hour in a shared taxi from Meknes. Unfortunately, no one else seemed to want to go to Moulay Idriss yesterday morning, so I had to negotiate and hire a grande taxi for myself. According to the Book, it can sometimes be a little difficult to get back to meknes from MI, so I arranged for the driver to wait a couple of hours, while i looked around, then take me back.
None of the mosques or monuments in Moulay Idriss are open to non muslims, but (with the exception of one annoying little dickhead who made it his business to try and ruin my morning by following me everywhere - only time so far its happened this holiday, but still annoying) it was a really nice little town to mooch around. The town square opens out in front of a terrace of white washed buildings; little lanes, clogged with donkeys being herded along by donkey shit shovellers, run uphill from there, with little souks dotted here and there. It had (aforementioned dickhead aside) a really nice atmosphere.
When I got back to Meknes, I went for lunch in a restaurant not far from my riad. It had been highly recommended by LP, and looked fantastic - loads of brocade sofas and throw cushions, and pinky red walls that looked as tho theyd been rag rolled in gold paint. I was the only diner, and gave my order, deciding to overlook the sound of a microwave oven ping-ing away in the kitchen.
There was a woman working in the kitchen, and shortly after I arrived, a tall man dressed in jellaba, and followed by two similarly dressed women walked into the restaurant, and headed for the kitchen. The two new female arrivals immediately began having a screaming row with the woman that was already there. Althogh my arabic is limited to the extent of being non exsistent, it did seem as tho the bloke was trying to pacify the women. But without any luck. The little alcove table Id picked when Id arrived because it looked quite cosy suddenly felt a lot less cosy owing to the fact that it was directly opposite the open door of the kitchen.
After a while they resolved it, or it fizzled out. The four of them immediately trooped out to the restaurant, and stood in a row in front of me. The bloke put his hand across his chest: Excuse please, he said, it is a family matter. It was actually quite funny in a john cleese sort of way.
This morning I caught the train to Fez for a mooch around the souks. Think Im starting to get a little souk-ed out.
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Mum
non-member comment
Fawlty Towers !
What a hoot ! Trust you to choose a restaurant where the Moroccan equivalent of DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES was carried out in full view of the clientele. Perhaps you should have asked yourself why you were the only diner. However, at least you were appreciated by a 'dickhead' so the day couldn't have been all bad. Looking forward to your comments on Fez. Take care !