Fes or bust

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Meknes 'Friendliest city in Morrocco' according to the guide book - my arse! Next train to Fes please...

I'd been in Fes 5 years ago and was keen to go back. It didn't disappoint. We arrived in Fes at FEStival time, the city was buzzing, People, Donkeys (1 dead) and taxis filled the streets and music (mostly pretty ordinary) filled the air. We spent our days wandering and getting lost in the largest medi-evil arabic medina in the world and our nights were spent sourcing weird and wonderful street food to fill our bellies. Fes has some unbelievable street food, the best in Morocco, maybe even the world (big wraps there) - we discovered barbequed sweet corn, chickpea pie and spread, saucisson and fresh made potato crisps to name a few. To the suprise and pleasure of the locals, we boycotted the traditional tourist restaurants at Bab Boujloud in favour the pie-carts which dotted the side streets near the city walls.

On one of our early morning walks we ended up out by the Merenid Tombs, basically an old arabic cemetary outside the medina. We were inspecting the tombs and taking in the view over Fes when we noticed something (Lisa later described it as her worst moment of the trip, a huge call given the the toxic sunburn and camel pee she endured). Morocco is a feast on the senses and not always a good feast either... as we were standing there on the hillside we we overcome by an awful stench. We took in some odd smells in this country but this was rancid... Below us was a rubbish skip, it was full to the brim, overflowing and swarming with Cats and Flies. The source of the foul odour was plainly obvious now, in the middle of the skip, legs bound and in the air like a dead, well, a dead donkey, was a dead donkey. The poor chap had been there a few days, and it was fair to say the local feline population had gotten their moneys worth. It wasn't a huge suprise for me to see a dead donkey, the animals here have it pretty tough life and I'd say this one might have have spent its last days hauling bricks in and out of the Souks. I'm a bit disappointed I didn't get a photo of it now, it would have been nice to test the gag reflex of you loyal readers. Nevermind, may get a similar chance in the coming months.

Putting the Dead Donkey memory to the back of our minds we set off to enjoy the rest of our stay in this imperial city. Needless to say this didn't last as long for me as it did for Lisa. Next morning after a big feed of Banana and baguette I bounced my way down the stairs at Hotel Talaa where we were staying. When I say bounced, thats what I mean. Not in the bounce out of bed, grab the day by the scruff of the neck way - but in a use your backside like moon hopper (gee, don't think I've used the word 'moon-hopper' since I was 10) and freestyle down the stairwell. It hurt, I mean it hurt alot, I looked down too see my left Haviana flip-flop had had two of its three limbs wrenched from its body and with it, almost its young life aswell. The thought of continuing the trip a man down sent the tears streaming down my long face. But quick thinking and surgery by qualified shoe nurse Lisa stabilised the situation with an emergency reattachment at the scene. I quickly wiped back the tears long enough to survey my own injuries which proved to be pretty minor given the gravity of the misadventure suffered by left jandal. I had a sustained a blood blister under my left arm, a bruised coccyx and worst of all lifted nail, I'll battle on, but the best news is that my second favourite travel companion will live to walk the streets once more.

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