After a couple of days in Meknes, we went to the train station and, while talking to and petting a cat, struck up a conversation with a well dressed man by the name of Rida. He told us he was an engineer from Fez just returning home, and that he would be pleased if we could meet him for some tea at 1800 that night and gave us a shred of paper with the name of a restaurant scribbled on it. We got on the train to Fez, and ignoring the "mosquitos" as Rida had called the touts and cab drivers gathered outside the train station, we headed straight for the towering minaret directly facing the station, turned right, and 1 1/2 blocks later found the Hotel Amore, just as the people who told us of
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