Fes

May 14. Train to Fes. While at station, guy comes up to me and says he’s just returning to Fes after studying in the U.S, and then proceeds to do his pitch – whole situation straight out of L.P (exactly as they predict). Upon arrival, met the owner of the dar and we walked about 10 minutes to his house. Parents don’t speak any English, but the son (18) and daughter (15) know enough to communicate and they both enjoy the practice. Wandered up to the Palai Jamai Hotel to meet a friend of a friend (Danelle). As she wasn’t in yet, I sat in the lobby and wrote in my journal. While doing so, overheard two guys talking and it turns out one of them is a Nat Geo photographer leading a trip around Morocco. Got his email as well as the url of the website dedicated to this trip. A pretty fortuitous encounter. Met Danelle and chatted for a while. She then invited me to their house for Shabbat lunch, so agreed to meet her husband (Jacques) at his shop a bit before noon on Saturday. Wandered back down into the heart of the medina and had lunch at Cafe Clock – an amazing place. The owner converted an old house. There are tables on each level around the central courtyard with several rooms tucked away as places to read, watch movies, and/or just chill out (perfect atmosphere to do so). Very hippy/beat poet/rasta kinda place. Things organised here almost on a daily basis to make it a cultural meeting place. After lunch, watched “La Symohnie Morocaine” about some musicians living in a junk yard and their story about trying to perform a symphony that one of them wrote. Cafe gets it’s name from an invention on the wall outside. There is a series of wooden arms sticking straight out from the building, each representing an hour of the day. At the top of each hour, a metal ball would flow in some water and drop into one of the arms, creating a unique sound that could be heard throughout the medina. Each hour would have a different sound. Story goes that the constant sound of the water and the metal ball dropping eventually drove the inventor’s wife crazy and she damaged the clock. No one has been able to figure out how it works in order to repair it.
May 15. For the most part, an uneventful day mostly spent wandering (and getting lost in) the medina and doing a bit of shopping. Back at the dar, was invited up to the roof terrace for an unobstructed view of the whole medina. Khamza (son) showed me his “room”. Basically a converted storage space above the stairs. To enter, you unlock the padlock, open the wood plank “door”, then step on the paint bucket. Big enough to hold his bed, small stereo and tv. The perfect place for an 18 year old boy!
Mat 16. Petit taxi to Jacques’ shop in the new city. Chatted and browsed through his collection of souvenirs (with some good narration on his part). We (the two of us and two of his friends) then drove to the train station to pick up his daughter before heading to their house. Had a very nice time visiting with all of them, and enjoyed their wonderful hospitality. Back into the medina (Cafe Clock) to take advantage of the free wifi and finish reading “Caravan of Dreams” by Idries Shaw that Max (manager) was nice enough to lend me. This is the first time I have seen any of his books in a private collection – turns out Max knows the author (and his family).

May 17. Hired a guide for the day to show me all the sights. Highlights of the day: Medersa Bou Inania with it’s intricate tile and wood work; front of the royal palace – tile work representing the sun and orbiting planets; old mellah to see one of the synagogues and the Jewish cemetery (some of the tombs show an interesting mix of culture); lunch at Anwar’s (guide) house with his family – a HUGE platter of the local version of cous cous followed by an assortment of fruit; tanneries to see the whole process of making leather products. Everyone warns you about the smell, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. They change color each week (for dying) and this is red week; wanted a massage and let the guide talk me into going to a place he knew (instead of one in L.P.) – mistake – masseuse barely even knew what she was doing (I had to explain how to do some of the massage), think I was less relaxed afterwards; Cafe Clock (once again) for live music.