I wake to my alarm, satiated from my slumber. I fill a hot bath and slip in, anxious for the say ahead. Dressed and ready before 8 am (I know...you don't believe me), I joined my group for breakfast. Fresh squeezed orange juice, so delicious you feel like you should be biting instead of sipping, baskets of different breads and toasts, accompanied by jams, honey, butter, cheese and yogurt. As we cleared one plate of bread a new variety would arrive at our table. Finally, we had fueled ourselves and demolished the spread before us. Unable to eat anymore, we waited in the adjoining courtyard to meet our tour guide.
Jessie, myself and Stacey at breakfastMuhammed, affectionately known as "Mo-mo," greeted us with bursting enthusiasm. He stands looking like a regal friar, in his ankle length traditional hooded kaftan and groomed mustache. A native of Fes and a tour guide for many years, Mo-mo has guided Robin Williams and Hillary Clinton.
Mo-moNow we ventured into the city with assurance as we tail our pint-sized guide. Our first stop was at the Dar Batha Museum, which was originally a palace. Again, we had beautiful weather and the gardens were in full bloom, containing a variety of flowering plants, evergreens, and palm trees- a paradise within four walls. We leisurely lay in the sun, sketching the layout of the palace, the details of the arches and the patterns of the doorways. I pulled out my watercolors and worked on a new piece until the museum closed for the day.
Dar Bartha Museum CourtyardTo kill some time before lunch we sketched the Bab Boujoud gate. I picked up some postcards to send the family (especially since I've been clacking on postcards during my overseas adventures). Then we returned to our Riad for a traditional Moroccan lunch.
Bab Boujoud gateWe feasted on a variety of appetizer plates. Moroccan potato salad, olives, tomatoes & peppers, carrots with parsley, and something that tasted like b-b-q (and was delicious). The main course arrived in a covered platter. When the waiter removed the top hot, he revealed chickens- whole little chickens- arranged radially with lemons and olives. Immediately some people;s interest dropped because they weren't prepared to work a whole chicken to get meat. They were probably expecting boneless chicken breast. I decided to go for it local style: with my hands. Dessert was fruit salad, oranges and strawberries with nutmeg and mint leaves. Finishing off the meal was the traditional mint tea that I had already become very fond of. After lunch we were ready to introduce a Spanish siesta to our Moroccan schedule, but we had a packed afternoon so we had to keep moving.
After leaving our Riad we headed for the royal gardens, but because of construction we had to take a detour around the city wall. The gardens were being renovated so we only were able to glimpse the beauty of the geometric patterns of flowers. We passed many historical sites and stopped to take pictures as we covered a lot of ground. One courtyard we were only able to stay in for a few minutes before prayer time began and they kicked us out.
After leaving our Riad we headed for the royal gardens, but because of construction we had to take a detour around the city wall. The gardens were being renovated so we only were able to glimpse the beauty of the geometric patterns of flowers. We passed many historical sites and stopped to take pictures as we covered a lot of ground. One courtyard we were only able to stay in for a few minutes before prayer time began and they kicked us out.
Courtyard of a Mosque/SchoolWe walked through the winding streets of the Medina, discovering little shops and interesting urban planning (or lack thereof). At one point in time we were in front of the Royal Gates...which they don't like you taking pictures of. We weren't informed of this fact until after some of us had snapped shots. The guards pointed at the offenders saying they saw five people take illegal photos. They had picked out four from the herd and then looked around until they spotted me. Falsely accused, I showed them my camera to confirm I had not taken a photo. After that confrontation we were careful to ask Mo-mo before taking pictures with guards in them.
The Royal palace is also a nesting ground for storks. Supposedly, the myth of storks bringing babies to homes originates from their culture. In June there is a large festival with much drinking and debauchery. People are happy, the weather is nice, add some booze and conception happens. Nine months later babies are being born left and right, coinciding with the return of the storks from their migration pattern. People would "blame" the storks for the increase in babies, rather than their actions nine months before. And that is why storks are associated with babies. Good story...thanks Mo-mo.
We had been walking steadily through Fes for most of the day. Mo-mo took us to the bottom of Fes' version of 5th Ave before taking his leave for the day. We wanted to trek up to see the sights and to find the large grocery store at the end of the road for provisions. Walking up the street lined with cafes, we noticed men. Lots of men. There were almost no women sitting in the cafe chairs (save for a group of 4 we spotted several blocks in). It was an interesting observation. It was slightly unnerving, but not as annoying as the random kids that would come and pester our group. One girl was nonstop asking us to buy gum. She hung with us for 4 or 5 blocks before being told nicely by Hawra in Arabic that we were not interested, and then I repeated our intentions in French. By now we had been walking for a solid 15 minutes, passing fountains resembling koosh balls and cafe on top of cafe, but we still had not spotted the grocery store. With the guidance of a couple that Adrian had befriended during on our walk, we saw the glaring neon sign announcing our destination.
The grocery store was yet another cultural experience. Their product layout was different than the US, and subsequently so was the smell. I'm not sure how to explain, but we picked up some chips, cookies and drinks (we're health conscience) and headed to check out. The cashier struck up conversation with me (in English) and we began to talk about the upcoming election. He was curious to see if anyone was supportive of Hillary Clinton, which, not to make this a political statement, I am not. After some more fragmented question and answer, I paid for my purchases and bid my first friendly local goodbye (Okay...I had met other friendly locals, but they were either being paid to be nice or they befriended Adrian first).
Our next adventure was flagging down a cabbie to take us home. Stacey, Josh Humphries and I paired up for this particular feat. The first cab had someone inside, but tried to take us as well. We passed and tried to the next cabbie, who repeated our previous encounter. When we were able to find an unoccupied cab, the driver to understand where we wanted to go and started telling me "Adoit, adoit..." meaning "Right, right..." in French (as in the opposite of left). Confused, we decided to take the next cab, which after a little bit of mispronunciation figured out where we needed to go.
Home again, we dined on our junk food. I was exhausted after a day of walking around and decided to go to bed after a bit of reading.
The Royal palace is also a nesting ground for storks. Supposedly, the myth of storks bringing babies to homes originates from their culture. In June there is a large festival with much drinking and debauchery. People are happy, the weather is nice, add some booze and conception happens. Nine months later babies are being born left and right, coinciding with the return of the storks from their migration pattern. People would "blame" the storks for the increase in babies, rather than their actions nine months before. And that is why storks are associated with babies. Good story...thanks Mo-mo.
We had been walking steadily through Fes for most of the day. Mo-mo took us to the bottom of Fes' version of 5th Ave before taking his leave for the day. We wanted to trek up to see the sights and to find the large grocery store at the end of the road for provisions. Walking up the street lined with cafes, we noticed men. Lots of men. There were almost no women sitting in the cafe chairs (save for a group of 4 we spotted several blocks in). It was an interesting observation. It was slightly unnerving, but not as annoying as the random kids that would come and pester our group. One girl was nonstop asking us to buy gum. She hung with us for 4 or 5 blocks before being told nicely by Hawra in Arabic that we were not interested, and then I repeated our intentions in French. By now we had been walking for a solid 15 minutes, passing fountains resembling koosh balls and cafe on top of cafe, but we still had not spotted the grocery store. With the guidance of a couple that Adrian had befriended during on our walk, we saw the glaring neon sign announcing our destination.
The grocery store was yet another cultural experience. Their product layout was different than the US, and subsequently so was the smell. I'm not sure how to explain, but we picked up some chips, cookies and drinks (we're health conscience) and headed to check out. The cashier struck up conversation with me (in English) and we began to talk about the upcoming election. He was curious to see if anyone was supportive of Hillary Clinton, which, not to make this a political statement, I am not. After some more fragmented question and answer, I paid for my purchases and bid my first friendly local goodbye (Okay...I had met other friendly locals, but they were either being paid to be nice or they befriended Adrian first).
Our next adventure was flagging down a cabbie to take us home. Stacey, Josh Humphries and I paired up for this particular feat. The first cab had someone inside, but tried to take us as well. We passed and tried to the next cabbie, who repeated our previous encounter. When we were able to find an unoccupied cab, the driver to understand where we wanted to go and started telling me "Adoit, adoit..." meaning "Right, right..." in French (as in the opposite of left). Confused, we decided to take the next cab, which after a little bit of mispronunciation figured out where we needed to go.
Home again, we dined on our junk food. I was exhausted after a day of walking around and decided to go to bed after a bit of reading.
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