Hi All –

We survived eating at the food stalls on Dec 30 at Place Jmaa el Fna (the main square in Marakech).. What a scene.. Cart after cart of food with tables and benches.. About 4 city blocks… cooking going on at about 60 different carts – kebobs, cous cous, tagines, sandwiches, soups, etc. no alcohol.. And surrounding this is a multitude of performers, magicians, musicians, snake charmers, and people hawking all sorts of gear.. The full square is about the size of four football fields..

We ate and then attempted to find our way back to the riad at about midnight… Well – we got totally lost as the usual markers (certain shops and souks) were closed and wound up miles away from where we needed to be. Eventually got a taxi to take us to the gate nearest our part of town.

On New Years Eve Day… we walked to the medersa through what seemed like thousands of souks.. We did a bit of shopping… learned that we cannot be Finns anymore, as we met shop keepers who knew almost as much Finnish as we do.. Seems as if several Morrocans are married to Finns! We’re thinking of becoming Polish next… but we don’t know a single word in Polish. At least in Finnish we could fake it for a few minutes of chatter.

We ended the year at Yacout in a bit of an over-the-top dinner. Arrived by taxi (since it’s at the other end of the medina and I don’t think we could have found it walking.. Also felt a bit weird to be walking in high heels and Mike in a jacket and tie – through these streets… We were greeted at the parking area in front of the restaurant by a Moroccan dressed totally in white (off white) with the requisite fez hat .. On top of his outfit he had a white cape which he proudly spread out as he greeted us…

Once inside this palatial former home with about 30 rooms… we were escorted to the roof to get a view of the medina.. Then brought to another floor with a gorgeous lit pool… where we had champagne and snacks… Moroccan ganau band and performers “serenaded” all the restaurant guests… great sound… Then we were brought to a table, which we shared with a British-Jordanian couple and their 10-year old. The restaurant was set up with large tables, so if you didn’t have a group of 8 or more you were placed with others. So we were with a pediatric surgeon who trained first in Cairo, then at Penn and Toronto… then practiced back in Jordan and Saudi Arabia, before settling in London. They were here for a long weekend. (We’ve run into very few Americans – most foreigners are Italian, especially in Marakesh; quite a few Brits; some Spaniards; and a sprinkling of Germans and Japanese… oh and French)

The meal at Yacout was high drama – starting with 16 different Moroccan salads spread out across the table leaving little room for all the required glasses for the different liquids (champagne, wines, waters, etc.)… Then came the amazing pastilla (these unbelievable “pies” with pigeon and honey and spices baked into a wonderful sweet crust). Generally the pastillas are about 4″ in diameter… This was about 20″ in diameter and they cut it into wedges… so the presentation was unusual.. This was followed by a fish tangine… along with some belly dancers and the musicians… Then there was a bit of an interlude… at midnight … with everyone headed back out to the pool area (it’s indoors and dramatically lit).. Where the ganauian band played the music and we all danced like we had in Fes… Mike and I joined in rather quickly with everyone surrounding the pool… Then it was back to eating again.. With a lamb tagine … followed by a “chest” that arrived at each table… The chest (kind of like a pirate’s chest) was opened… it was totally edible.. And filled with sweets.. The Moroccans have unbelievable sweet tooths… so desserts are plentiful..

We left Yacout at about 2 a.m….
Today, Jan 1, was pretty tame.. Walking, walking, walking.. We visited Bahia Palace which was designed and built over a 14 year period by about 40 of the best craftsmen in Marakesh to house the vizier, his four wives and 28 concubines…. It’s as tastefully opulent as it gets…if that is possible… We also went through the mellah (the Jewish section) which is now housing very very-low income Muslims.. Pretty depressing.. And to the Jewish cemetery.. And then to the Saadienne tombs…

Took a taxi to the train station in the new city (to check it out and get tickets for our trip from Marakech to Casablanca on Thursday)… the taxi managed to get into a small accident with another car.. Actually our taxi was stopped (with us in it, along with the driver).. But the other passenger sitting next to the driver (there’s always several people in the taxi.. Everyone going somewhere else, but the driver making double money… ) had gotten out to get cigarettes.. Anyway, there’s never really enough room for all the vehicles on any of the streets.. So a small van sideswiped our taxi.. Pretty minor.. But in the states we’d all be getting license and insurance info.. Here there was a bit of anger with each driver blaming the other.. And then the cop who happened to be close by.. Just waved both cars on.. And that was that.. Or so it seemed.

Tonight we went to a hip newish restaurant that was described as Thai-Moroccan fusion… The only fusion was that they served both kind of dishes.. Quite over-rated and expensive I’d say.. But it was packed with hip Italians and French – not sure where they are getting all this money.

Walked back through the square again.. And back to the riad… Amid the dark streets no matter what time – it was about 11 pm tonight – barbers and hair salons are open and thriving.. Seems like lots of people, especially men, get their hair cut late at night… Tomorrow is packing day, and a visit to the gardens that Yves St. Laurent bought and rehabilitated as a gift to the people of Morocco..

Oh nearly forgot to mention one of our great purchases.. Which we just stumbled on.. In the square. A little circular “track” on which sits George Bush in a tank with machine guns.. Chasing Osama.. Around the track… Battery operated, made in China… You’ll have to see it.

Happy New Year.. See you all back on home turf in a few days.. Best for 2008

Vendors and street people in Marakech are much more aggressive than in Fes.. and we’re having to constantly say that we are from Finland.. and start talking Finnish (with our rather meager Finnish vocabulary)… Then they leave us alone.. as noone knows that language.. guess it’s a bit intimidating…  The result.. 13 days and still no carpet!

It’s still difficult to photograph local people.. so I’ve resorted to very different kind of shooting than what I’m used to.. but oh well. It’s actually impossible to capture this place.. from the constant rush of people to the unending tiny shops to the cacaphony of colors and smells…

Being an American here is interesting. There’s a definite anti-American sense, but like in other countries there is an assumption that those who travel are anti-Bush and therefore OK as Americans. Indeed the woman in Skoura (where we literally said that. She said people in the market say they are surprised that she rents to Americans… And she answers that people who stay at her place are anti-Bush.. Then she asked us if we were… Similarly in a small shop, once we had to admit we were not from Finland… the shopkeeper said we would get better prices by not being Americans.. His English was fairly good so we began a conversation about the fact that the dollar is so weak and the Euro so strong… so why would shopkeepers think this.. And he just said.. “Yes it is true the dollar is very bad, but America is America and it is the ruler of the world, so Americans need to pay more.” We all laughed.. We bargained some more, and made a purchase.

Tomorrow we will spend the last day of 2007 walking throughout other parts of Marrakech and to our (hopefully) spectacular dinner.. and then maybe to the square to see what will be happening there… Although I think we will be a bit over-dressed for the square.

With very best wishes for a happy, healthy year of peace… and a Democrat in the White House.

Fern

PS… The world is truly small.. Walking here in Marrakech on a small street we ran into two architects from LA that Mike knows (Stefanos Polyzoides and his wife Liz).. and then we bumped into the American couple that we met at our riad in Fes. We exchanged war stories of our drives in the mountains. They never made it to the desert because they didn’t have 4-wheel drive.

Hi All –

We left our little shangrila in Skoura — complete with private terraces and lounges and views of the palmeries (oasis areas that you see along river beds) — in the middle of nowhere and began what we anticipated would be a simple drive to Marrakesh.. about 3-4 hours as everyone told us. We bid adieu to the owner and manager of Les Jardins de Skoura and chatted a bit about her difficulties running the place as a female in a male dominated culture. She handled the entire renovation herself with 25 workers over a two-year period, and now has been operating the auberge for about 11 years. She’s pretty feisty – from Normandy. Just fell in love with the area and decided to make a life change. (Quite a life change, I’d say.) She says that the women she’s hired have needed to be trained to do most any task, including cleaning, making beds, etc. They have remained with her for many years and appear proud of the new skills and elementary language skills they now possess. The chef is male and he says it’s a female-dominated auberge (and is not certain this is a good thing!)

From Skoura (out the 4 km of dirt road with many many obstacles) and a short stop at the local kasbah, we drove to Oaurzazate (pron. Whazazate) which is apparently the Hollywood of Morocco — both because many movies have been made here and because many movie stars choose to visit and purchase houses. It’s like Disneyland, complete with a hotel called “Hotel Oscar” that has life-size statues of the Oscar out front flanking either side of the grand entry. There’s a film museum and a lot of money going into the town.

Since the King of Morocco is coming to this area, all roads were covered with police and army for about 50 miles (I suppose the threat to this king would  be from the far right Islamic)…

The drive was a bit more than we expected.. about 6+ hours of mountain driving, one lane in each direction and more hairpin turns than I have ever seen. This went on for more than 100 miles. Needless to say I was getting nauseous and Mike was totally tense as the driver. We kept thinking it would end, but it just kept going.. Just as you’d descend into a valley and think it would be smooth sailing, the road ascended and ascended… A definite white knuckle drive. The odd thing was that noone mentioned this.. Everyone just said it was a good road and that it would take about 3 hours, maybe 4… Can’t even fathom it taking that short a period of time.

I guess this is the way that they decided to connect the country. Seems like there must have been better ways… especially since there isn’t anything along the way.. no significant towns at all.

We arrived finally in Marrakesh. Drove to the airport to return our SUV that we had actually come to rely on…. Finding the airport was the first adventure.. hardly any signs… We stopped to ask and people gave very complicated routes.. Eventually some guy on a motor scooter whizzed up alongside us and said to follow him… He sort of “piloted us to the airport” and of course asked for some money for doing so. The system for returning the car was a bit unwieldy at best.. more like no system.. We eventually decided to park the car and then go inside the airport to figure out what to do. Just then we (actually me) spotted a guy in a suit jacket that had a “Budget” lapel insignia. We jumped out and tried to understand the next steps.. Turns out that was it.. He took the key and off we went to the taxi stand.

Taxis don’t really know where all these little riads are, so there’s a lot of stopping and asking other taxi drivers… We did however have a phone number so we called ourselves and then the taxi driver talked to the hotel person. Then of course you only get as far as one of the “gates” and you need to walk to the riad.

We are at Riad Mabrouka, which is conveniently located, but alas a bit of a disappointment after all of our other fantastic hotel selections.  It’s very small and they try hard.. It’s rather simple (which is fine, since many of the others are totally over the top).. Six rooms. The problem is that two rooms are on the first floor. We unfortunately are in one of those first floor rooms  — off a central sitting area and not quite as private as we would like.. We’ve asked to switch, but given that there are only five other rooms it’s unlikely. They have promised we can get the upstairs room on our last night, which might not really be worth the trouble… But we are hoping that they can switch us tomorrow. For now we have reconciled that this is it… Especially after spending all morning today (Dec 30) trying to find another riad or even a hotel. We phoned more than 15 riads — none had any openings. This is high season.  We then decided to go outside the medina to see what the larger hotels were like, so we visited the Sofitel.. Quite a difference from being in the medina… They have 250 rooms.. When you enter the hotel you go through a metal detector, like at the airport, but they have decorated the metal detector to fit the decor of Morocco… Anyway, even if we wanted to stay there, which we didn’t, they didn’t have any rooms either… We walked around the lobby, hoping to get an International Tribune (no luck)… and checked out who is staying at the Sofitel (whose prices start at $450 night for a basic room)… Mostly Arabs, some French, some Spaniards…   People were lounging at the pool, dressed rather scantily in the lobby; not very Moroccan.

Oh – one place got back in touch about a room — It’s the Riad Fenn… owned and operated by Branson’s sister (Branson of Virgin Air).. Apparently it’s a charmer, with every detail considered. She grows all the food and everything is organic and perfect. The basic room started at $600/night.. We decided not to do this.. Can’t imagine why not. In fact our little Riad Mabrouka was looking better and better.

From the Sofitel we made our way back to the medina… It’s a very different scene from Fes… much more chaotic, noisier, lots of motor bikes that seem to take precedence over those of us walking… Big square in the center, with constant chaotic activity.. morning, noon, and way into the night… It changes throughout the day… shopping souks until mid day.. lots of snake charmers, acrobats, etc…. then at around dusk the food vendors wheel themselves in and set up… More than a hundred of them.. with all sorts of grills and other food specialties.. Actually that’s where we’re having dinner tonight… just strolling through the square.. (We have reservations tomorrow night at the number one restaurant in Morocco – Dar Yacout, so we thought simple and casual was good for tonight… Just hoping this isn’t a bad decision for our stomachs)

Today was the day of days.

We began early – at about 7 am – driving back to Erg Chebbi to see the dunes in sunrise light. We initially planned to leave around 6 a.m., but… oh well. Anyway, the dunes at sunrise look very different from what they were the evening before. As I explained, the drive to the dunes is like driving on the moon… no roads, no signs.. just vast openness.. on black volcanic gravel and dead flat ground…

The sand dunes rise up out of this lunarscape.. about 800 feet. Pretty spectacular.. all of this quite close to the Algerian border.. We ran into a camel rider who spoke a bit of English.. He was guiding two Spanish tourists on camels. His first words were in English “Do you want to buy a fossil?” After we declined he said “See you in Algeria!”

We climbed the dunes and then drove back on the unmarked non-roads to the little hotel we stayed at and had breakfast, packed up and left at about 10 a.m. headed west on a small unmarked road to drive to Skoura via Tinejed and Tinnehir. We ran into our little friends who sold us the stuffed camels.. They hoped we’d give them caramels (one of the few English words they know)… We stopped in Erfoud to use the ATM which was a provincial town but had a working ATM.. unbelievable. We also stocked up on our daily supply of tangerines, bananas, water, and bread – our mainstay in the car on the drive.

From Erfoud we took a small road that got us to Tinejed.. Just past Erfoud we encountered a manmade moonscape (unlike the natural moonscape of the sand dunes).  Here we saw thousands of mounds about 6 feet tall (just outside of Jord).. Each mound represented a 20 meter excavation shaft, big enough for one person to get into… Apparently the locals dig these holes to find the fossils that they try to sell to people like us… and every so often there was a makeshift structure hovering over the hole with a crankshaft (wooden) that loaded and dropped the bucket to the man in the hole .. to retrieve the fossils. After completing the task, they go onto another hole (Andy – if you are really following all of this on Google Earth, I’m dying to see what this looks like)…

The rest of the drive to Tinejed included lots of ruins, and the Todra Gorge.. We approached Tinnehir which required driving along extremely narrow roads with precipitous drops on both sides..  but which brought us to an amazing stretch of cliffs that rise 1000 feet – almost sheer on each side… Surprisingly (maybe not completely) they let you drive into the gorge over washes and roads that seem to disappear…  Guess what – a  carpet salesman at the narrow crevice of the gorge.. I kid you not.

After the gorge we walked around Tinneir for a while.. dusty, but lively.. Then we began the rest of drive to Skoura – passing and photographing about a zillion small villages that combined current day dwellings with medieval dwellings in ruins – all made of mud, practically disappearing into the landscape. Naturally we lost track of time, making the rest of the journey a bit difficult… This rural area is obviously more conservative and the number of women in bourkas has increased considerably from what we’ve seen to date. People are also more reluctant to be photographed.. I was constantly tempted, especially since it seems as if Fridays are special and the women are out more and dressed in lots of sparkly scarves and coverings..

The final part of the drive – to Skoura from Boumlina got a bit dicey.. We knew our hotel (about 8 rooms) was on the outskirt of Skoura and we needed to locate a sign about 2 miles west of town.. and then markers would guide us.. Well we got to Skoura after dark.. and never saw the sign.. We drove in and out of town several times.. but no sign.. Thank God for cell phones.. We called les Jardins de Skoura.. and they explained that the sign had to be taken down last week because the King is coming to town one of these days.. Thus no signs are allowed on the road.. The king will only be here for two days (he has a palace here.. but he seems to have palaces everywhere… No one knows the exact day of his arrival or departure (for security reasons)… so over the three week period during which he might appear, all signs needed to be cleared from the road… The proprietors of the little hotel explained that we needed to look for a rock painted orange (in the dark).. and then we needed to turn right and follow other orange painted rocks for 4 kilometers and then we’d be at the hotel.. Thank goodness for the SUV… The non-road… took us over dried-out riverbeds, over muddy rocky ruts.. very narrow very winding.. through a peasant village in the dark.. Needless to say the “large” orange rock marker.. was more like a pebble…  But we eventually found our way to the most unbelievable enclave of stucco buildings.. Our room is a small “suite”.. with fireplace.. a set of stairs to the roof.. and decorated with beautifully appointed Moroccan details…  We had a great dinner here.. and are finally about ready to sleep… Take care.. More adventures await us. Hope we are not boring you.. Feel free to delete.

Fern

P.S. We have a new ploy. When approached to buy something. We say we don’t speak English or French or German or Italian. We speak Finnish only. And say we are from Finlandia. This works. Especially when we say a few words in Finnish.  One vendor said Finland was very cold. Another said Finns spoke other languages. But all in all, this has helped us out of several aggressive sales pitches.

Hi All –

Left our “wonderful” abode in Midelt (the one with the orange shag carpets and aqua closets – Guess every culture has some bad taste!).. after a pretty rotten breakfast (thank god for some yogurt and tangerines we picked up) and headed into the desert. Quite a drive. We are now totally happy with our huge SUV- 4-wheel drive. Climbed to a height of about 6,000 ft, driving along curvy roads a bit reminiscent of driving to Mendocino on Hwy 1 (just not as good a road, and not as much protection on the edge of the road. The landscape was desertlike.. a bit like Northern Arizona or Colorado, and the outcroppings a bit like Sedona, but not as red.

Along the way you pass semi-deserted villages and ruins.. most look like sandcastles coming out of nowhere.. Very little is being preserved, so these settlements are in terrible shape – literally crumbling. The vestiges of many aspects of the special Moroccan way of life – Kasbahs, fortified villages, luxurious residences, etc. are literally crumbling. It seems as if the government lists these places as important, but does nothing to preserve them..  Every so often you stumble upon “palmeries” – rows of lush palms (mostly date palms) along river beds, with somewhat newer settlements having been built among the trees. .. Really lush and green amid this arid reddish-brown scene.  Between these villages, it all feels like desert moonscapes.. except for the incredible number of plastic bags caught in branches and rocks, and just strewn or blown everywhere. Our guess is that locals dump garbage in flat areas and most contents either disintegrate or get eaten  by animals.. but those pesky plastic bags just last forever – even here in a country with little real waste and maximum reuse.  It’s really an ugly sight.

I forgot to mention in previous messages that satellite dishes are everywhere.. providing communication and television access. Another one of those strange contradictions.  Anyway, we drove (and stopped constantly to photograph) for about six hours (though only about 120 miles).. through Er Rich, Er Rachidia, and eventually Erfoud. and then the road ended and we drove about 12 miles on somewhat rugged terrain using some occasional white posts as markers.. to find our “hotel”.. Derkoua (about 24 km south east of Erfoud, en route to the dunes)..

It’s a sweet little place, sort of rambling rammed earth “cottages”-pretty basic, but we have heat, a bamboo ceiling (a little like the pool cover at the Phoenix house), and electricity.. and my Blackberry is like the little Energizer bunny.. working everywhere.

This message will come to you a few days late.. My system for sending is a bit complicated – since some people asked – I type on the computer, save on a thumb drive, transfer the document to an email on the hotel computer and send to myself.. Then I forward that email that comes to you on my blackberry.  I cannot send directly from the hotel computer because it is really difficult to type with the French/Arabic keyboard – I don’t even want to explain how I get to my website and to my email through the Internet at the hotel. Anyway, tonight’s hotel doesn’t have a computer, and last night’s hotel was totally untrustworthy. So, hopefully this travelogue and yesterday’s will go out from Skoura – our last stop before heading to Marakesh.

We checked in quickly.. and headed out to Erg Chebbi – the main point for seeing and being in the dunes. We had hoped to do one of the (more modest) camel treks (the short one or two hour one) but we stopped too often on the drive to Erfoud and so only got to see and walk in the dunes which stretch more than 20 miles and soar to 820 feet. The drive to the dunes was interesting.. all off road.. sort of make your own path and hope your tracks will be there when you turn around. It was about a 30 minute drive. You couldn’t really see anything except dessert/dunes for miles.. We stayed about 40 minutes and then retraced the route (sort of). because it was dusk and we were a bit concerned about finding our way back to Derkoua (which is pretty much about 20 miles from nowhere).

I failed to mention that no matter where you stop or slow down.. in seemingly empty places – where there isn’t a person or a structure in sight – out from nowhere pops up a person trying to sell something.. In this area it’s fossils and minerals (which are abundant). Yesterday it was hand carved objects. Always they can take you somewhere to buy a rug – or “just to look and have some mint tea!”..  Indeed we pulled off the road to photograph the landscape and another car pulled up soon after .. By the time we had turned off our engine, a guy was trying to sell us a decorative little camel he made out of palm leaves.. and then the guy driving the other car started a conversation – he was Moroccan, from a town called Rissani.. driving a Mercedes. His English was halting but not bad.. so he asked about our trip, where we came from and where we were headed etc. etc.. all small talk.

As Mike and I got back into our car.. I saw that Mike had succumbed to the palm camel.. and the driver of the Mercedes was inviting us to his home to “look at carpets.”..  We did not do the latter, but we now have a little palm camel. Mike felt the guy really needed the money (true) and that he had an unfortunate marketing position up there in the mountains on this small road!  As we reapproached the hotel after being out on the dunes.. young girls appeared also from out of nowhere in the dessert.. selling stuffed camels that they sewed themselves. (supposedly).. They were just too cute and sad for us to ignore, so now we also have several stuffed camels, made out of remnants of cloth..   I also found out that Mike bought two fossils and “sand roses” yesterday. Don’t know where I am when all these big business transactions are going on. We are totally in the dark with regard to world and national news.. but just got an email saying that Bhutto has been assassinated. What a shame.

All our best – Fern

P.S. Ignore process. Figured out how to do as note in Backberry.

Quite a big shift tonight as we checked into our hotel in Midelt. We left our wonderfully sensitive riad in Fes (where every detail was considered) and are now in the Kasbah Asmaa in Midelt (a dusty little town in the mountains) where we have pink walls, curtains in another shade of pinkish rose, orange carpet, baby blue tiles, tangerine and rose plaid bedspreads, aqua painted closet doors. Even better, above the bed is a wooden “arch” nailed to the wall.  But the wall has a column so the wooden arch has been cut into numerous pieces and tacked to the wall to shape around the column.. I hope you can get the sense of this, because it’s a real interior wonder. But, we have a teeny television in the room hanging off the pink wall and we are getting some news in English (first time since we left Madrid). But I digress from the more important description and tales of our travels.

Started out this morning by learning that the Fes hotel didn’t take credit cards and so had to venture to the ATM (amazing how easily we can all access cash!) to be able to pay for our wonderful four days in Fes. Then we got a taxi to the rental car office which turned out to be a bit more complicated than planned… as the taxi driver couldn’t find the rental office. Eventually we found the way and were a bit surprised to see the car – a huge 4 wheel drive SUV – clearly the biggest car in all of Morocco! We begged for a smaller car.. but supposedly this was the only car available. So, we’re embarrassedly.. truly Americans in Morocco.. although as we drove through the mountains we did begin to see some other SUV type vehicles.

Getting out of Fes proved uneventful, although we certainly didn’t take a straight route. Signage is a little complicated. Names of streets and information are only in Arabic, but major city names and direction signs are in French. Unfortunately those signs are not placed frequently enough nor early enough to prepare for turns. But all in all it’s been OK. We were given varying times for how long it would take to get from Fes to Midelt – ranging from 1.5 hours to 3 hours. Well, despite our powerful vehicle, it took us about 6 hours (including a stop for lunch, and short stops in two towns along the way).. But we did get here before dark.. sort of …

We got pulled over by the police (I should explain that their police stand on the roadside about every 20 miles or so.. not sure what they do).. but we were pulled over. Apparently Mike passed another slow moving car in a solid line zone..  This was a good moment to say we only speak English (although I did understand the cop’s explanation). In any case, the policeman didn’t really know what to do, so just told us not to do it again. Frankly, the lines on the roads would need a good painting for anyone to be able to know when they are solid and when striped. Arrest diverted by lack of communication! (I think Mike was sort of looking forward to getting a souvenir ticket to put with his collection of traffic tickets from East Germany, Moscow, and Mexico.)

We’re now pretty high in the mid-Atlas mountains and the landscape is both surreal and desertlike. Houses truly disappear into the landscape as they are low and built of the same color as the ground, so they sort of emerge and disappear, based on the quality of sunlight. I guess they use local soil in the concrete mixing and the older structures are probably rammed earth. The towns along the way are all very, very small.. just one little street with the basic shops.. and the requisite local petit taxi stand (In Azrou they were all green; in Midelt they are yellow.) In the distance we can see the snow-capped High Atlas mountains. I suppose these were all forests, but now it’s all scrub…

Everywhere you see contradictions. Men wearing long robes with the pointy hoods looking like they are right out of some medieval novel but they are on cell phones; teenagers in the back of the car dancing to hip-hop music while their parents are in the front seat dressed in traditional garb.  But perhaps the most amazing is that I can use my Blackberry here in the middle of nowhere in the Atlas Mountains. I am truly surprised.

It’s pretty cold – low 40s, dipping below freezing tonight. We’re not quite prepared for the cold, so we are grateful that our room has heat. We’re off to dinner soon.  More tomorrow.

Best — Fern

Greetings from Fes

If you want to be in a place over Christmas where there is no sense that Christmas exists.. this is the place to be. Not a Santa or jingle bells, or any other symbol in sight!

The sun came out today and we set out for the tanneries. An unbelievable sight (and stench). Apparently the skins (goat, camel, sheep, cow) are brought into the tanneries and after some kind of curing” process, the dying begins. There are about 50 vats that are knee-deep. The workers stand in these vats with the dyes (all natural sources) and step on the hides and pound them and swirl them around to get the dye infused in the hide. Each worker is in his own vat. The complete process includes the removal of hair and flesh, soaking, drying, and rinsing before dying… The dying vats have been in use for centuries. The steps include saline, lime, pigeon droppings, and then the natural dyes which include saffron, mint, poppies, etc. According to some studies we read, the tannery workers’ health is better than other workers and that there are theories that the foul-smelling liquids might contain some curative properties??? It’s quite a sight! (By the way they give you sprigs of mint as you enter the area, to cut the odor.)

The rest of the day we walked and walked and walked – from one end of the medina to the other and then winding our way from mosque to mosque and from medersa to medersa (schools) and from fondouk to fondouk (buildings where traders used to stay – with balconies and rug dealers and a misty sort of light flowing from cracks in the wooden balconies and from burning fires – sort of like a Delacroix painting. At one point, totally exhausted, we stopped in a little tea place about the size of a small closet. It looked like it was set up in the 60s when American hippies were roaming this area en masse. As we sipped the tea we heard a sort of Moroccon hip-hop music being played live.. and noticed that there was a little ante-room to the closet space and some young guys were playing music. We talked with them a bit and found out about the various instruments.. and learned they had cut a CD. Their group’s name is City Clan!.. Later in the day we stopped at a music shop and picked up the recording. True rock stars!

OK.. we did a bit of shopping too (including Mike getting a leather vest and new leather jacket).

The strangeness of Morocco (making it more different than most any place we’ve ever traveled) is the dominance of religion. Finding a female shop keeper is like finding a needle in a haystack. Women never walk alone. You never see little girls playing outside. Boys play soccer everywhere – amidst the detritus of shops, crowds, and the unbelievably narrow streets.  And older boys are walking around or playing cards or working in the shops (or trying to sell us rugs).. But no girls. Similarly you see lots of men “hanging out” smoking, drinking coffee, talking in the squares.. but no women.  Many men are wearing jeballas (with pointy hoods). About 70% of the women have their heads covered, but a much smaller number wear veils.

We’re off to dinner .. food has been fantastic.

Will be back in touch.

Fern

Hi All –

Following what appears to be a typical Moroccan breakfast (they love sweets!) of about 5 different kinds of breads and marmalades, hard boiled egg, and a “crepe-like”-pancake, we headed off to the old Jewish quarter (the Mellah) which is adjacent to the Fes medina in the southwest corner. While we were told the area was distinctively different architecturally, the differences were negligible… but perhaps that is due to the fact that the entire area encompassed by the old city is a cacophony of the tiniest shops imaginable – ranging from about 35 sq ft to about 120 sq ft – all totally packed floor to ceiling / side-to-side with “stuff”… Generally, like in most developing countries, the shops focus on a single item (like cloth or eyeglasses or shoes).  Anyway, these shops occupy the first floor of every building, but are like little add-ons to the buildings since they are so shallow. Just imagine more than 900 streets with about 50 shops per street. Could call it a shopper’s paradise.

After meandering a while, we found our way to the Jewish cemetery – a strange plot about 6 square city blocks in size… with row upon row of white “mounds.”  The “guard” at the entrance welcomed us royally and managed to give Mike the man to man hello of three kisses.. one on each cheek and then a second on the first cheek. Mike says he wreaked of alcohol (at about 10 a.m.). He provided the kippa and a big “shalom!” We also saw the synaguge which is “buried” deep in the mellah with housing immediately adjacent and so close that you are practically in someone’s apartment as you enter.

We then walked for hours throughout the medina – stopping to eat various things along the way, and consuming numerous cups of mint tea. The sounds and smells rival the visual array. Finding your way is a bit complicated and getting lost is lots of fun, until you’re exhausted and then really would like to find a simple way back – which is impossible. We’ve found a few of our own landmarks like the guy who seems to work 24/7 cutting out little pieces of leather to make souvenir babouches (backless shoes).. (He’s a sub-contractor).. His little shop consists of a table that’s about 18” x 20” … We know we’re almost at our riad when we find him. Actually the signage isn’t bad, once you understand the color coding and the logic, but it’s easy to go in circles.

By the way, the calls to prayer begin at 5:20 a.m. (which doesn’t seem to have any relationship to the rising of the sun).

Our riad seems to attract a broad range of foreigners and the more “artsy” types. Turns out the owners (Alla and his wife Katy) live part of the year in Oslo. He’s Iraqi, but fled with his family to Norway many years ago. He studied in Norway and is actually an architect. Met his wife in Norway, they traveled to Morocco .. loved it, decided to move here and wanted to renovate a building in the Medina, so it’s all been restored with a good deal of TLC. There are two other American couples staying her now (one from Ventura CA – he’s an architect; one from Raleigh NC and DC – they are academics- she teaches at the Corcoran; he’s an art historian at UNC); two German couples; Brits; and Norwegians (an architect who bought an old house here in the medina but has not yet begun his renovation).

Best – Fern

Well in the pouring rain of Rabat, we made it out of the medina, dragging our bags (wheeling where possible) to the petit taxi (they are all blue) to the train station. Spent a few hours on the train with an interesting Saudi pilot who had gone to Temple University in Philly – we heard his view of American politics and the American / Saudi connections, as well as his analysis of 9-11. Also got hustled by one guy who was supposedly working for the Moroccan Travel Agency telling us he could get us a great guide for Fes (where we were headed).. and that the recommended guide had taken Hillary Clinton and Bono around town! He then proceeded to call the guide – Mohammud (naturally!) – and had Mike talk with him. Mike told Mohammed that his wife makes all the plans.. so then Mohammed wanted to talk with me. I said we weren’t the “guide-type” and suggested he give us his number and that we’d call him if we were interested.  (The old ‘don’t call us, we’ll call you routine’ – seemed to work.)

The arrival in Fes was a bit hectic. We knew our “hotel-riad” was in the medina – the medieval section of the town and we had a contact number and information for when we arrived at the medina entrance (a particular gate, since there are many entry points). We were to call and they would send someone out to meet us. Well we used my mobile and couldn’t get through.. then managed to have a swarm of young guys offering to help us.. but we went to a phone store (teleboutique) for them to call the number and they couldn’t get through either. We were a bit concerned – after all we found the place on the Internet.  But we decided to go it alone and trek into the medina and ask people as we went.. all the way “wheeling” our bags.

The medina is an unbelievable maze of more than 900 separate streets, mostly dead ends. It’s like walking through narrow caves. On normal days it’s buzzing with people and thousands of little shops, but because of the holiday (which goes on for 4 days and we are now finishing day 3) most shops were closed, making the experience surrealistic. The medina dates back to medieval days – the oldest in Morocco. After meandering for a bit, we started to ask people to direct us down these winding, narrow, sometimes paved alleys. I must say I was beginning to have my doubts. But alas, we were taken to #14 Sbba Lyouta and behind this very large, heavy wooden, carved door, we were escorted into a little paradise.

Medieval building with towering ceilings and open air atrium…  Tile work everywhere and carvings in every corner…..  Our room is a delightful suite — which is a terraced balcony with views of the entire medina……  After an early evening walk in the medina we had a traditional Moroccan meal ….  Tomorrow we really explore this amazing city

Apologies for bad typing. I’m using an Arabic keyboard

Fern