Perfect blue buildings

Today as our bus made its first stop and we clambered our to stretch our legs, I let out a huge sigh of relief. I’ve loved being in amongst the hustle and bustle of the cities but I’m now definitely in need of some wide open spaces and an uninterrupted view of the sky.

As previous blogs will attest, I do enjoy a good bus journey, which meant that most of the day was spent glued to the window taking in all the little details of day-to-day life in rural Morocco. A lot of the farming here is still very labour intensive with donkeys and mules doing much of the heavy work in the fields. It also seems to be a good time to harvest olives, with big sheets spread out under many of the trees to catch the fruit as they are shaken or beaten out of the branches.

Following our arrival in Chefchaouen mid-afternoon, Lahcen took us for one of his special ‘orientation walks’ which gave us a fabulous flavour of what this pretty little town has to offer. I think the walk took a little longer than he’d planned as it was hard to walk more than a few steps without someone stopping to take a photo or haggle with a trader over some new purchase!

Our hotel in Chefchaouen is utterly charming. Tonight, I may not be beside the apple green sea but I am amongst some perfect blue buildings. More tomorrow...

Yallah, yallah!

You need your wits about you if you are going to successfully navigate Fes medina. At one point having got caught up in a human traffic jam, I lost sight of anyone else in my group and was incredibly grateful for Lahcen who appeared magically at my side and somehow wove a path for me through all the crowds to rejoin them. He did the same for others throughout the day - it’s quite a talent! Having laughed at Aziz, our local guide, and his stories earlier in the day about how he sometimes happens upon blonde-haired, blue-eyed tourists who got lost in the medina years ago, I’m no longer entirely sure he was joking!

Given my deepening claustrophobia, I didn’t know how I would respond to a day spent in the narrow alleys and noisy crowds but fortunately there were so many interesting things to distract me that it was hard to feel uncomfortable for long. 

Whenever it threatened to get too much, Aziz would cleverly lead us to an open square or quieter street and, at one point, to my favourite place of the day, a madrasah where sunlight filled the pretty courtyard. 

This was a particularly welcome respite after the stench of the tanneries!

Over the course of the day we visited the ceramic school, the leather and textile districts and part of the food market which would be enough to turn the most committed meat-eater vegetarian! 

I am now the proud owner of a tablecloth which I probably paid far too much for and which is definitely too garish for my flat but, hey, that’s all part of the experience, right?!

The evening was spent simply absorbing all the sights, sounds, smells and tastes I had been exposed to throughout the day and I’ve awoken refreshed and looking forward to our trip to Chefchaouen. Yallah!

Cock-a-doodle-eeyore

This morning the call to prayer, a cockerel and a braying donkey all competed to see which was the most effective alarm clock. The combination of all three could certainly not be ignored and there didn’t seem to be a snooze button! 

Fuelled by a tasty breakfast, we made straight for the Roman settlement of Volubilis, arriving just after 9am. This was an inspired bit of planning by Lahcen as we had the place entirely to ourselves and were able to take our time exploring the site and quizzing our knowledgeable local guide, Abdul. Those Romans definitely knew how to pick the best spots and it was very satisfying to be in amongst the ruins as the sun came up and the surrounding countryside came to life. That includes the stork which had made its nest atop Volubilis’ tallest pillar!

From Volubilis, it was back to Meknès for a couple of hours free time. I can’t say I was blown away by the city itself but I did enjoy the last little wander we took through the winding streets of the medina to our host’s home for lunch. I turned down the kind offer of a camel burger and joined the vegetarians for lentils, spicy potatoes and some ratatouille-style stew - a wise choice as my meal was very tasty and I ate every last mouthful.

After lunch, we made our way back to the train station where we grabbed a quick coffee before boarding the train to Fez. I squeezed myself into a compartment with a couple of other group members and a lovely Moroccan family - sign language goes a long way in such situations but I’m starting to wish my French was better, especially given that my Arabic is non-existent! 

We’re now spending a couple of hours resting in the hotel before heading out for a special dinner. I might even have to change my clothes for this one! 

More tomorrow after our day-long tour of Fez.

Little donkey, little donkey...

It was actually two little donkeys which carried our large amounts of luggage up to our guesthouse in Moulay Idriss, La Colombe Blanche, earlier this evening. I have packed lightly compared to many of my fellow travellers but my protestations that I could quite easily carry my own bag up a few steps were quickly dismissed - the donkeys, or more likely their drivers, were not to be done out of a job! 

I’m now snuggled up in my sleeping bag under a heavy blanket in our little room overlooking the guesthouse’s courtyard. The bed may be as hard as nails but I reckon I am still going to get a good night’s sleep after a very full day and with what feels like a very full stomach. A delicious tagine with couscous and lots of warm bread home cooked by our host Mohammed and his family was just what I needed to round off a very satisfying day.

We left Casablanca bright and early this morning from a surprisingly space-age station and were treated to a beautiful sunrise en route to Rabat. 

Once in the capital, which everyone immediately agreed was much nicer than Casablanca, we dropped off our bags and went in search of our first sights of the day: The Hassan Tower, the only remaining part of a mosque destroyed by an earthquake in 1755; and Mohammed V Mausoleum, where the present King’s father and grandfather were laid to rest.

We were joined there by very few other tourists so were left in peace to enjoy the impressive architecture and decorative carving of both structures - the inside of the Mausoleum’s dome was particularly stunning, glittering as it did with gold and jewels.

Next we headed along the water’s edge past lots of fishing boats to the Kasbah, a real rabbit warren of pretty alleyways painted blue and white and surrounded by a beautiful and highly-scented garden. 

One of my only French sentences came in surprisingly  handy on the way back to meet everyone for lunch - who knew ‘Ou est la Gare?’ would be exactly what I’d need to ask one day when faced with a map that seemed to bear absolutely no resemblance to the layout of the medina in front of me. Good job I’d also learnt my droite from my gauche as well, so could just about understand the answer!

After lunch, it was back on board the train, this time to Meknès. From there, it was just 40 minutes by taxi to Moulay Idriss, which would be our home for the night.

Before dinner, we were treated to an interesting walk through this walled city’s cobbled lanes. Non-Muslims are not allowed to enter the complex surrounding Moulay Idriss’ mausoleum but it was still fascinating to hear about its origins and about the annual moussem or pilgrimage which takes place here every August. 

We also visited the public bakery for bread straight out of the stone oven and watched the sun go down again from a terrace overlooking the city walls. The people here are delightful, especially the children many of whom greeted us with a cheeky smile and a cheerful Bon Soir as we made our way back to the guesthouse. 

I’m tired now but looking forward to what tomorrow has in store.

Of all the gin joints...

Je suis arrivé à Casablanca... and it’s fair to say that it’s nothing like it was in the movie. There’s not a gin joint to be found for starters. Still, there’s something quite intoxicating about just being in the place where Rick and Ilsa said their final heartbreaking farewell. I’ve even found myself humming along in my head as Sam plays, “It’s still the same old story... a fight for love and glory...”

It’s only been a few hours but, so far, so good for my Moroccan adventure. It’s kind of nice to find myself in yet another country on yet another Boxing Day, especially one that is at least 15 degrees warmer than home and isn’t inundating me with adverts for half price sofas or faddy diets.

Our guide Lahcen seems very experienced and knowledgeable and my Japanese roommate Mika is friendly and already very interesting. She’s studying energy medicine and has been giving me tips on how to boost my immune system. Let’s hope my cold heeds her sage advice.

Tomorrow we catch an early train to begin our travels in earnest. I think I'm going to like it here.