June 8th: Goodbye Fes, hello Meknes

Photos for this post
We set out to cover all the places we missed yesterday, with the bare bones of a plan which was continually upset by Ramadan practices. Moral: don’t ever travel in a Muslim country during Ramadan unless you have your own transportation, carry petrol and food with you and can go easily with the flow … We were travelling light, on a budget, and we had train connections to make.

We sought out busses again, but to no avail. I stopped in a local shop to ask directions and best way of getting to the places on our agenda, and we were told that taxi was our best - really only - option. The shop employee was only too happy to negotiate a “fair” price with a very unhappy, very unwilling taxi driver who spoke no english or French and apparently only a smattering of Arabic. For this price, the driver would take us to each place and allow an “appropriate” amount of time for us to visit each place before moving along.

We asked to be taken to the Necropolis de sultan Merinides, thinking that would be the best place to begin, high on the hill before the noon day sun, also the location furthest from our hotel. The driver had no idea which place we meant, so we had to point … up there on the hill! INauspicious beginnings... The ruins are large monumental tombs, believed to date from the 14th century when the Merenides dynasty ruled over Fes, but it is not known who is buried in these particular tombs! They provide a spectacular view of the historic city, and an excellent place to hear the call to prayer broadcast simultaneously from the 400+ mosques in the medina. The taxi driver wound his way up the hill, parked alongside the monuments and indicated gruffly that we had 5 minutes! Just enough time to wander and snap a couple of photos. He then determined that our next stop should be the Royal palace which you can’t actually visit, but you can jump out of the taxi and snap another quick photo under the watchful eyes of many armed security guards. The royal palace, Dar Al Makhzen, was built in the 13th century during the Merindes dynasty. Its 80 hectares encompass a madrasa (school), mosque, parade ground and gardens. There is a large square in front of the palace - the place of Alawites - but we were the only people there.

We drove past the Bab Sammarine - the Sammarine gate, one of 14 ornate gates to the medina - on our way to Le Jardin Jnan Sbil et la place Boujloud. But, Ramadan …the gardens were closed until later that day. The driver agreed to take us on to Le Musee Dar el batha. But, Ramadan … the museum was closed. The friendly young guard, who spoke impeccable English, French and Arabic, helped us deal with the increasingly agitated taxi driver. It was agreed that he would take us to, and leave us at, the Bab Boujloud entry to the medina where we would probably find food. From that point on we would be on our own. But, the museum and gardens should be open by the time we walked back.

We drove through the Andalusiyya quarter, the oldest part of the medina, to see the Spanish style wooden balconies that my aunt remembered from previous visits. Then had a dismal lunch just outside the medina. So few places were serving food that we were just happy to sit, eat and regroup in the intense heat.

We walked back to Le Musee Dar el batha, following the blue dots on my phone as we had in so many other situations. The beautiful museum, which showcases art and cultural traditions of Morocco, was a 19th century palace and a summer residence, built by Sultan Moulay Hassan I, who was committed to modernization and reform. We stayed there for hours wandering through the various rooms, each with a different yet ornate door, and lush gardens. Jacaranda trees!I first saw Jacarandas when I went to Guatemala and thought they were the most beautiful tree I’d ever seen; the flowers almost transparent. I was thrilled when I moved to Florida and watched them bloom each spring, and here they were in this garden. It was a delightful surprise and began to make up for the stress of dealing with the taxi driver in the morning.

The guard at the museum told us that we really should visit Le Jardin Jnan Sbil, gave us directions and sent us on our way. The garden is a far cry from the hustle and bustle, frenetic pace of the medina. It is peaceful, quiet, calm …. it is where the locals visit to picnic, and stroll. Rose beds, reminded me of England, jacarandas and avenues of palm trees recalled my home in Venice, Florida. It was the perfect continuation of the day, but we still had other places on our list ... we had to pick up our luggage from the riad and be at the train station for our journey to Meknes.

We left the gardens and tried to hail a taxi cab., thinking that we could possibly fit in the Medersa abou inania and the castle. The Medersa is part of the Kairaouine University, an architectural masterpiece built in 1350 and, unbelievably, open to the public. We couldn’t get a taxi cab to stop for us. No matter where we stood they just whizzed right by us. In desperation we asked a passing trio of armed guards were we could get a taxi. Their response was to step into the street and wave one down for us! It’s amazing how quickly a taxi driver will stop for armed guards …

Taxis in Morocco have an odd system; if they already have a fare, they will stop to pick up additional fares, and the burden of paying for the entire ride - not just their portion - falls to the new fare. We requested the castle as it was relatively close by, but found ourselves being taken back to the Necropolis de Sultan Merinides. Producing maps didn’t help, neither the driver nor additional passenger seemed to know where or what we meant by the castle and we drove back and forth and around and around the town, with the fare ratcheting up and the driver becoming more and more irate … Ramadan; it was getting closer and closer to the time to break the fast, and all the drivers on the road were showing signs of road rage exacerbated by the heat. It really was a comedy of errors. So, time being of the essence, we asked to be taken to Medersa abou inania. Then, with traffic against us, resigned ourselves to returning to the riad.

We made it back to the riad, thanked Isham for his hospitality and began our walk back to the taxi rank for yet another round of bartering over the fare as the drivers all want to be close to home when it is time to break their fast - and the fares are increased because … Ramadan! Although we had walked back and forth from the riad many times during our stay, my aunt decided that now was the time to try out a new route, after all didn’t have anywhere special to be - just the train station for a soon to be departing train. Some times on this trip I have been patient with my aunt and she with me. Today had not been one of those days, for either of us. Now we were being severely tested.

We made it to the train station on time, taken by possibly the only driver in Fes who charged a decent rate. He must be new to the business! Soon we were on our way to Meknes. We hailed a taxi at the station and were told somewhat solemnly that it was in the old part of the medina, no-one goes there, the driver wouldn’t be able to take us to the door and wasn’t actually sure of the exact location, and he wanted to be home soon for Ramadan. To be honest, I had spent 23 years in Dearborn, Michigan, and had enjoyed the feasting and celebrating that goes along with Ramadan in the Arabic capital of America. But now it was just getting on my nerves. My blood pressure rising with each mention of the word!

The driver dropped us off at what he hoped was the closest location to the riad and, once again, we trusted our direction to the little blue dots on the map on my phone. Some boys in the street saw us and offered to show us the way …The medina in Essaouria is spacious and open, Fes is frenetic. Meknes just seemed dodgy., back alleys with dubious types. It appeared to have no redeeming qualities. For the first time on this trip I had my doubts. Following both my phone and the young men we walked up a steep hill through alleys with little going on and finally found ourselves outside the Riad Idrissi.

We were welcomed into the riad where we would be the only guests that night and, I thought later, for many nights both before and after. We were asked if we would like to join the family for dinner that evening and if we would like to see “an exhibition” that the owner gives of rugs, jewellery and fossils, on travels around the world. Excitedly we agreed to both…. and were then led to our rooms in what could only be described as the penthouse suite. The riad was gorgeous, our room was cosy with a large patio overlooking the medina.

We settled in and were called for the “exhibition,” where the owner showed us beautiful rugs and silver jewellery, but grew more and more surly and displeased as we oohed and aahed with our wallets remaining closed. My aunt did purchase one small rug - I’m sure she felt under no duress! Dinner was served at a separate table from that of the “family.” They were sullen, surly, ignored us and made no attempt to interact with us. It was all very strange - but the food was delicious.

In no mood for any more tramping around strange places, we retired to our room to watch the sun set over the medina. We had been told to keep the plug in the shower closed until we were running water, otherwise the smell from the sewer rose through the drain. I asked my aunt if she knew how to open and close the plug before she had her shower and received a very terse (I’m not a child) “yes!” … scant minutes before the bathroom flooded. Sometimes you just laugh at the silly things that happen, sometimes you cry. That night I cried. I was being worn down very slowly by the travel and the heat, by trying to accommodate my aunt who was doing her best to accomodate me, by the constant language interpretation issues; this trip to Fes & Meknes was beginning to look like a mistake. We fell into our beds with terse, but hesitant, goodnights - and then a gecko ran across the wall by my bed! I smiled. Wearily. But I smiled. Tomorrow is another day.