After a close punch up at the Chefchaouen bus station, our bus was slightly delayed due to a small child that no one claimed, he was just chilling out on one of the reserved seats in front of me. The ticket holder looked unsure what do to, so when the driver got back on he removed the kid from the seat, the 4 year old boy just wandered further down the bus. We were about to leave, when one of the guys from the bus station jumped on board and took the kid off the bus. No idea how this kid managed to get himself on the bus, probably just wandered on and the driver thought nothing of it, thinking the parents were passengers.
We arrived in the CTM bus terminal, which is a little far out from the medina. CTM is big bus company in Morocco, the one everything tries to get a ticket for. There are other companies that seem perfectly okay, but ask any local and they’ll swear by CTM. The thing with them is they’re so big they have their own bus terminals, the shared stations are just for the plebs. However the public bus stations are usually located near the medina or somewhere useful, while the CTM stations are in the middle of nowhere. It’s not expensive in a petite taxi, so a 20dh ride later I was dropped off at the Blue Gate of the Fez medina.
I’d decided on a budget hotel, thinking it would be okay. Not that it was bad, it was just odd. The room had a private shower and toilet, but this was an almost water tight shed dropped in the corner of a double room. It’s just weird, but kind of works. The big reason to stay at the hotel is the location, just inside the Blue Gate, it made for an easy launch pad for the medina maze, and with the Blue Gate sign posted throughout the main parts of the medina, it make it not a chore to get back.
The medina, and all the medina’s so far, a quite late to wake. Leaving the hotel at 10am meant a detour to a cafe and an hour of people watching with a coffee. At 11am, the stirring of life begins and a handful of the shops begin to open, with the shop keeps putting out their wares for display. Eventually around midday most things have opened and people are wandering the lanes, buying produce, and tourists being beckoned into tourist shops.
The funny thing is around 3pm is siesta time due to the heat. A lot of the shops close up for an hour or so, so there’s only a small window of time to get to shops before you have to wait until the afternoon. What doesn’t make any sense is why don’t they just get up earlier, open at 9 when it’s still cool. Cultural endorsed laziness.
Fez acted as a rehabilitation from the awful touts in Chefchaouen. At first I was ignoring them calling out, but slowly I started replied and found they were genuinely nice and curious where you were from. That random guy just sitting on a door step saying hello doesn’t want to sell you anything, he just wants to welcome you and if you need any help. The big draw card for the Fez medina is the ancient tannery that is still in use, and as you venture deeper into the medina people just assume you’re looking for the tannery, they’ll point in a direction and tell you that way.
There was French family and myself stumbling around on the first day attempting to find the tannery after being directed down past a museum I had accidentally found (it turned out to be one of the main museums in the medina). The lanes just ended in residences or dead ends. Soon enough someone saw us and pointed to a doorway, to tannery! Entering the doorway we found ourselves in a giant leather shop, ugh, so technically this is related to the tannery, but not what we’re looking for.
Wandering the medina with no goal is just enjoyable. Reach an intersection, have a look at each lane and see what looks interesting, and off in that direction. Along with the locals roaming about, there are also pack mules filled up with Coke-a-Cola, horses laden with various shop wares, guys running around pulling small metal trailers with what ever random items needs delivering, and the odd motorbike beeping it’s way through the crowd.
The other thing that you find wandering the medina, and only first thing in the morning when everything is closed, are the tour groups. I wasn’t actually expecting this, but of course they exist here. The Spanish and French are the big tourists here, and sure enough the big groups are for these guys. And boy are they worse than the usual tour groups, I got trapped behind the same Spanish group twice in one morning, they don’t even acknowledge they’re taking up the entire small lane way with their 20 odd pax, just ignoring everyone trying to get past them and opting to take photos of the most inane things (they were seriously taking photos of a crack in the wall at one choke point).
I did embarrass myself not thinking while being in explorer mode. I’d come across a fantastic tiled doorway, and inside amazing murals. I didn’t put two and two together on what this was, and a few steps in I had people from the street calling out and people inside looking shocked and saying no.I had walked into a mosque, and in Morocco a non-Muslin entering a mosque is a huge no-no. I jumped back out the door as the imam came rushing over, shaking his hands to say I can’t come in. I immediately realised what I’d done and apologised profusely. They understood and smiled about it, hand over his heard to say don’t worry. After thanking him and taking a couple of photo’s from the outside, I made my way onward.
One very Moroccan mascot that are found in every city are cats. They’re literally everywhere, and all healthy looking. I don’t think they’re actually owned by anyone specifically, they’re just citizens of the cities. You’ll round a corner and there’s an adult cat chilling out with a kitten, meowing at you as you pass. They can also be annoying, as it’s clear bad people have feed the cats at some cafes and restaurants, so the cats just hang and stare at you as you eat. One of the waiters will walk past at some point and tell it off, but it’s a little weird trying to eat while a cat sits under your table staring at you longingly for your food.
On the last day I had planned to visit the overlooking fort that the Sultan had built after moving the capitol from Fez to Marrakech. The purpose of the fort was to keep an eye on the rebellious populous, but now it acts as an armoury museum. One thing you tend to forgot on holiday is what day of the week it is, and more to the point, museums are closed on Mondays. Sure enough, after reaching the hill with the fort I see the gate shut and locked, and it dawns on me it’s Monday. Grrr.
Back down the hill it was time to find this tannery. I must have spent a couple of hours trying to understand how to get to it. People on the street would point in different directions and I was determined to find it on my own. But my will gave in and I accepted the aid of one of the locals who promptly took me into a doorway, up some stairs, and suddenly I’m back in the leather shop from the day before. I stopped dumbfounded and looked around, we’d come in a different entrance, which felt like to be a secret door hidden within the shelves of leather goods.
The local leaves me with the real guide, an older gentlemen who is incredibly nice and heads off to a staircase I swear wasn’t there a minute ago. A good four floors of leather goods later, we’re on a large terrace that already has a large group of Japanese looking over the balcony taking photos. They all have face masks on, and I’d very quickly find out why.
From the vantage of the terrace balcony, the tannery is laid out below. This is where, for the past 1,500 years, leather workers treat and dye their leather. The process has changed very little in over an millennia. First the hides – sheep, goat, cow, or camel – are treated with an ammonia agent. The agent is created with pigeon poop, and when the breeze changes direction to blow towards your nostrils, you sure as hell know what a foul stench smells like. It’s as though your soul has been knocked out of your body and is weeping on the floor, while your body is paralysed from the racid shock
Despite the smell, it’s fascinating to see this process which has been passed from generation to generation. The men stand in the dye pools, taking the hides in and out of the pools. There’s no shade overhead, making this look like some seriously hard work. And the close contact with the dyes and ammonia means sickness is a guaranteed part of the job benefits.
After the tannery I figured I’d be able to find my way back. A few bad turns later (I was exploring!), I had no idea where I was and the medina’s don’t like you using GPS. So I just kept walking, and walking, and following locals hoping that they’d take me somewhere I could find my way from, or at least get a GPS signal. It finally happened, coming out on a road with cars about. The GPS zero’d in on me and I now knew where I was; I’d taken a crazy detour yet somehow managed to arrive somewhere near an area I was at the day before.
With the 34 degree heat sweating the hydration out of me, I slowly made my way back to the main cafe I’d been having my coffees at, and ordered a bottle of water and coffee. Just relaxing, this was a great time just cool down and people watch.
Morocco has a great mix of cultural fashion, and sitting in the medina watching the busy street of people coming and going, is a great feast for the eyes. Most people wear your standard western cloths, jeans and a t-shirt. Mixed in with this are the traditional colourful robes and hijabs, the men in Islamic dress with the caps, Africans in wildly colourful dresses and head wraps, the odd Berber rocking the turban, even the occasional burka. And naturally there are the young tourists wearing those hippy pants, and on one occasion a guy walked passed wearing local women’s floral pants, which I couldn’t help but laugh when a group of women walked by him wearing the same pants.
With Fez reviving my trust in the friendliness and welcoming nature of Moroccans, it was time to move on. Squeezing into a grand taxi, a very uncomforable two of us in the front passenger seat, we headed off to the nearby city of Meknes
One response to “Fez – Everyone is so Friendly”
Don't forget to go to Volubilis although I'm sure that's on your list.