The maze of Fes

So much too see, so long between internet cafes. Our tour group of 11 Ausies and 4 kiwis is to be crammed into a mini bus for the 11 days. A continual banter involving rugby and the animal husbandry of sheep has kept us amused between stops.

Volubilus

On the way to Fes we encountered the Roman ruins of Volubilus. An impressive pile of rubble. The best preserved ruins in Morocco. The city was beautiful, once upon a time housing about 20,000 Romans and slaves. Over the years many parts have been restored, including several floor mosaics, a bath house and vomitorium (my kind of people), and a most impressive arch de triumph. From first glance it all looks like a pile of rubble, but it is a pile of rubble with many a story. Even Dim kept her interest going, and she hates the discovery channel.

Fes

You are in a maze of twisty passages that all look alike. Welcome to the medievall city of Fes. A large portion of the city is still as it was a 1000 years ago, with tiny narrow streets winding for kilometers. We did our best to get lost, the only contact with the outside world being the thin blue strip of sky above heads. Even that disapeared at times. Every where is busy, with all forms of human endevours acted out in compartment sized chunks. Here a street stall selling slippers/ silk/ sheep's heads/ olives. Mean while a human stream of life flows efficiently through the twisting maze. People live here...It's amazing. Step off the beaten path and you encounter tiny courtyards with many domiciles facing inwards, everything is at least two stories high.

Weaving in and through the maelstrome are the donkey taxis. Donkeys, mules and the odd hand cart carry every item imaginable from gas cylinders to raw brass and foam rubber. The hooves are shod with old tyres cut to fit. You better act fast to step out of the way before being run down. Without our local guide we may have been lost for ever.

Our guide was magnificent, leading us onward to exotic locations within the maze. Turning in seemingly random directions we would find ourselves in a Berber house selling rugs and blankets, sipping sweet mint tea and being treated like royalty. Other stops included weavers, tailors and the famed Fes tanneries. The tanners were a surprise, this edifice has been in production for uncounted years. Thank goodness for the mint leaves we were proffered. By grinding them into our nostrils we were spared the stink.

Gorges of Ziz

We were now in the back roads and heading towards the Algerian border. Soon we would be on the verge of the Sahara, and the fertile farmlands disappeared. The bus tour continued onwards to arid vistas of rock and dust, looking much like the North of Oman. But coursing through this country are the river valleys fed by the high atlas (mountains). Later we would stay in a few of the different valleys and meet the locals.

Sahara

Our group trekked out acrosss the desert sands of the Sahara in the fading light. An hour later we entered a Berber camp where we would spend the night. Our camp consisted of rugs laid out on the sand and tents made from more of the characteristic Berber blankets. We were treated to a feast of tangines and bread followed by fresh mellon. The weather being so good we slept outside beneath the full moon. Late morning brought a chill and we were forced to huddle under our camel rugs. Did I mention the huge desert spider that sent the girls screaming. It ripped a wave through our mist as the screams sent it sprinting straight for us. Our nimble guide recovered from early shock and killed the beastie. Dim held me particularly close that night.

Morning brought a magnificent sunrise, which we viewed from the crest of a neighboring dune. From there we could see the source of many sounds of the night. A group of nomads had also camped nearby, and seemed to be the source of the tame cats and loud roosters. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate roosters.

The setting was beautiful, as was the food and friendliness of the guides. Although I suspect that I will be getting no good loving untill Dim recovers from the camel ride.

I will write about our last days in Morocco and Marrakech soon.