Day 6 Wednesday, Oct 18 Erfoud (6h 16m)
After breakfast we begin our ascent across the Middle Atlas Mountains.
Stopped for tea in a Swiss-seeming ski resort village, Ifrane!?! Known as Oufrane by the Jews, it was reputed to be the ancient capital of a Jewish Kingdom around 500 B.C.E.
Jews fleeing King Nebuchadnezzar found refuge here. In later centuries, Arabs and Romans found their way here too. Ifrane soon became an important stop for caravans coming from the Sahara Desert, carrying such things as amber, ostrich feathers, gold and other riches to the port of Mogador (present day Essaouria) on the Atlantic coast. It was cold, but we walked around a bit before returning to the car for jackets.
It was pretty hot, so we came back to the riad to rest. Rostom came by and we walked to Casa Hassan’s
Tissemlal Restuarant (casahassan.com/en/tissemlal-restaurant). A guesthouse-cum-restaurant, the eatery is popular with tourists, and many return again and again. Its open-plan kitchen allows a sneak peek into the preparation of the many dishes on offer.
Rostom helped us order: Harari, a delicious chick-pea soup; and two tagines, one with beef, apricots and prunes and the other with chicken and lemon; dessert was flan and lemon custard. As usual, we polished off our meal with a refreshing mint tea, made by boiling green tea leaves and adding fresh mint requested without the usual generous helping of sugar. The tea is reputedly great for your health and is an important part of Moroccan life, as many locals meet for daily discussions over a steaming pot in one of the many cafes that line the higgledy-piggledy alleyways.
Day 13 Wednesday, Oct 25 Casablanca / Depart
After breakfast, Rostom took us to the Casablanca airport.
Royal Air Maroc 200
CMN 3:05 PM Terminal 2---JFK 5:55 PM Terminal 1
7 hr 50 min 32A, 32C
All went well, except that we both caught colds on the airplane, and mine developed into bronchitis that lasted for two whole weeks. Herb was waiting and we got home for a good sleep.
Most of the day was spent winding our way through the beautiful cedar forests with jagged rock faces and Berber villages as you cross the Atlas Mountains and begin to descend towards the Sahara Desert, passing the largest oasis in Africa on the way.
Day 3 Sunday, Oct 15
Slept twelve hours!! The Riad Dar Meziana is similar to Le Repose, except that it does have A/C and the bathroom, while charming, has plumbing that leaks everywhere. The A/C has a pipe leading from it to a lovely vase that overflowed in the night and almost reached the spot where we had stashed the suitcases.
All children are required by law to attend school in Morocco. The buildings with the brightly colored walls are private schools (Rostom's children attend such schools), but in the more rural areas, many children work on family farms or small businesses instead.
Fifteen km along, high walls of pink and grey rock close in around the road. The approach is thrilling, as though the doors of heaven were about to close before you. Being stuck between a rock and a hard place is a sublime experience in the Todra Gorge, where a 300m-deep fault splits the orange limestone into a deep ravine at some points just wide enough for a crystal-clear river and single-file trekkers to squeeze through.
We returned to the Repose for a delicious seven-course vegan dinner on the terrace: olives, tapenade, hummus, bread; almond & apricot spread; zucchini cake atop zucchini pasta; hibiscus tea; eggplant rolatini with fruit & nuts and egg and tomato salad; coffee granite. Shower and to bed. The only problem was the riad has no fans or A/C and it was hot. So we had to open the windows (interior) which meant there was a lot of noise. (View of the mosque and cellphone tower is from the terrace)
Great, little, and cattle egrets (also Grey, but no photo)
Roving hippies built the city's mystique in the 1960's and 70's, and visits by the Rolling Stones, Beatles and Led Zeppelin gave the city star power. In the 1990's private medina mansions were converted into riads, just in time for low-cost airlines to deliver weekenders to brass-studded riad doors. Marrakesh was amid a major tourism boom in 2008 when the global financial crisis started to wreak havoc in European markets, which account for over 80% of the city's visitors. Hot on the heels of this fiscal collapse, an Islamist militant disguised as a guitar-carrying hippie walked into Café Argana on the Djemaa el-Fna and planted two bombs that killed 17 people in April 2011. Our driver, Rostom, was in Marrakesh when this happened. He had planned to take his clients to that very café at that very time. His clients were tired of tagine, so they went to an Italian place. He said his family and friends were frantic with worry. Confidence in the Red City plummeted: tourists cancelled bookings and investment tumbled. But while economic growth hit the skids, dropping from 4.9% in 2011 to 2.9% in 2012, Morocco's circumspect handling of Arab Spring tensions, due largely to the King taking the advice of his Jewish advisors, saw a gradual return to growth in 2013.
We pulled into a gas station at the edge of the medina. Soon a man with a cart appeared and led us through the Djemaa el-Fna, the center square of the medina, pointing out Café de la France, a meeting point, and doing the left, right,right, left thing through the souk got us to our hotel, Riad Boussa (3 star riad) ( http://www.riadboussa.com/en/riad-marrakech-riad-boussa.html ) in a peaceful alley. We were met by Allee who gave us a tour and a cup of mint tea. We have the Red Room. Dinner was served in the courtyard, where a Queen Cat rested on her cushion, occasionally drinking rose water from the fountain. We had salad of tomato and onion, haricots verts piled like a log cabin and samosas, then good chicken tagine and raisins. Dessert was a lovely pear poached in orange and cinnamon.
Southern Grey Shrike.
Eurasian Collared Dove
After lunch we met Otman and his 4-wheel drive vehicle and drove across the barren land to the majestic Sahara sand dunes. We found out later that our caravan was not scheduled to depart til 3:30 so we had some time to kill. Otman stopped to show-and-tell a Berber nomad camp, apparently still a chosen lifestyle for many. We also stopped at a fossil place, but didn't buy.
Day 2 Saturday, Oct 14 Rabat / Chefchaouen (4 h 19 m) After a lovely breakfast on the rooftop, Rostom arrived and we headed up the coast to Moulay Bousselham (Merja Zerga). Rostom told us a story about an Australian woman who had had a dream telling her to come here to have her wish fulfilled. She did. It was. And she moved here. No clue what the wish was.
Rostom had made arrangements for us to spend time exploring the Blue Lagoon (Merja Zerga) area with Hassan Dalil, a highly recommended (on the Web) birding guide, in his boat. We were warned to call him rather than ask for him as several people have been known to pretend to be him in order to take his business, and the pretenders were there. The idyllic fishing village of Moulay Bousselham is a tranquil place, protected by the shrines of two local saints. The village is slowly expanding, as retired Europeans are starting to buy homes here. There is a sweeping beach (empty for most of the year), friendly people, good fish restaurants (at one of which we later had lunch) and an impressive, internationally important wildfowl reserve. Moulay Bousselham is named after a 10th-century Egyptian saint who is commemorated in one of the koubbas (shrines) that line the slope down to the sea, and guards the mouth of the river. Moroccans seeking a cure for psychological problems are locked into the tomb for 24 hours. Across the river is another shrine of Sidi Abd el-Galil, believed to cure sterile women.
The 73-sq-km Merja Zerga National Park (4 sq km of water and the rest marshland) is protected by the Ramsar Convention and attracts thousands of migrant birds, including wildfowl, waders and flamingos in huge numbers, making it one of Morocco’s prime birdwatching habitats. The lagoon is between 50 cm and 4m deep depending on the tide. Ninety percent of the water comes from the sea, 10% is sweet water from the Oued Dredr, south of the lagoon. There are six villages around the lake, four of which depend on agriculture, two on fishing – the men fish the lagoon and the ocean while the women gather shellfish.
As we climbed the long climb to the top, we saw some small boys in an interrupted soccer game. It seems the ball had flown into a neighbor's garden. They hoisted the smallest boy to the top of the wall (which sounded as if it were guarded by a large dog). He retrieved the ball and was soon down in the arms of his friends.
The views from the top were spectacular.
The Bahia palace, an incredible work of architecture, has been restored from the damage done by servants upon the vizier's death. Imagine what you could build with Morocco's top artisans at your service for 14 years, and here you have it: La Bahia (the Beautiful) has floor-to-ceiling decoration begun by Grand Vizier Si Moussa in the 1860s and embellished from 1894 to 1900 by slave-turned-vizier Abu Bou Ahmed. But the Bahia proved too beguiling: in 1908 warlord Pasha Glaoui claimed the palace as a suitable venue to entertain French guests, who were so impressed that they booted out their host in 1911, and installed the protectorate's résident-généraux here. Though only a portion of the palaces 8 hectares and 150 rooms is open to the public, you can see the unfurnished, opulently ornamented harem that once housed Bou Ahmed's four wives and 24 concubines. The quarters of his favorite, Lalla Zineb, are the most spectacular, with original woven-silk panels, stained-glass windows, intricate marquetry and ceilings painted with rose bouquets.
and headed to the coastal city of Essaouira, a picturesque fishing town, lying on the southwest coast of Morocco. On the way we stopped to see goats in argan trees along the side of the road. This was one of the highlights for me and a stop I specifically mentioned in planning the tour.
Argan oil is wonderful for hair and skin, but it also is a delicious cooking oil. The stuff we buy in the USA is very low in real argan oil and is heavily augmented with fillers. The fruit of the argan tree is small, and round, oval, or conical. A thick peel covers the fleshy pulp. The pulp surrounds a hard-shelled nut that represents about 25% of the weight of the fresh fruit. The nut contains one to three oil-rich argan kernels.
Extraction yields from 30% to 50% of the oil in the kernels, depending on the extraction method. Extraction is key to the production process. To extract the kernels, workers first dry argan fruit in the open air and then remove the fleshy pulp.
ome producers remove the flesh mechanically without drying the fruit. Moroccans usually use the flesh as animal feed. There is a tradition, in some areas of Morocco, of allowing goats to climb argan trees to feed freely on the fruits. The kernels are then later retrieved from the goat droppings, considerably reducing the labor involved in extraction at the expense of some potential gustatory aversion.
The ubiquitous water seller; turtles for luck, and people watching from the Cafe de la France
Heading down to the village of Taddert, the road gets steeper and the landscape is stripped of color, except for hardy wildflowers and people along the road selling geodes dyed shocking red.
Herring Gulls
Day 7 Thursday, Oct 19 Sahara Desert
Next weekend (naturally), Erfoud has an increasingly popular date festival, with dancing and music, and preparations were well under way. Erfoud lies in the heart of Morocco's fossil beds, and the Paleozoic strata south of the highway between Erfoud and Alnif are a prime hunting ground for diggers. Kilometers of shallow trenches have been hand-dug by Berber miners in their search for trilobite fossils. I thought Jamie and Devin James would like one, so Rostom took us to a place, Fossiles dErfoud, www.fossilesderfoud.com, where he assured us they were the real deal (he has proved right on everything so far, so we do trust him--we had been warned that trilobite replicas can be made from plaster, plastic or auto-body putty, and can be hard to distinguish from real fossils). We toured the factory and bought some to take home.
After lunch we continued the drive to El Jadida. Except for the modern parts of the cities we've seen and cellphones and satellite dishes, most of Morocco could have existed in any century. Now, suddenly, industrialization appeared. Huge, smoky phosphate plants lined the beautiful beaches, which had been virtually empty til now. There were also miles of unspoiled beaches, all owned by the government, which could be a goldmine for some real estate investor.
Tent
Oven
Mint Tea
Loom & Weaving
Water Cooler
Grey Plovers (also Katy's, but no photo
Because Chefchouen is in the mountains, the little streets and alleys were very steep and we decided to rest and drink some tea and people-watch in the square.
Otman came with the 4x4 to take us back to Erfoud. From there, Rostom drove up the old, bad road behind the High Atlas Mountains past clusters of palm trees and Berber villages towards the Todra Gorges.
We stopped to visit an interesting system of interconnected wells, each owned (maybe at some time in the past) by an individual Berber family. An old Berber woman took us down and wasn't happy with the tip (which is what Rostom had recommended). So we left. (note the Berber symbol on the wall).
Moroccan Bulbel
Alpine Chough
Black-backed Gulls
Day 8 Friday, Oct 20 Todra Gorges/Dades Gorges (2h 46)
Woke up out in the desert, the sand was cool enough to walk on barefoot, sand squishing through our toes. Hiked to the top of a dune to see the sunrise over Algeria.
Edith Wharton (hereafter EW) visited in 1917 (when no guide books to Morocco were available) and wrote in In Morocco: “One has met, of course, travelers who have been to Fez; but they have gone there on special missions, under escort, mysteriously, perhaps perilously; the expedition has seemed, till lately, a considerable affair. And when one opens the records of Moroccan travelers written within the last twenty years, how many, even of the most adventurous, are found to have gone beyond Fez? And what, to this day, do the names of Meknez and Marrakech, of Mogador, Saffi or Rabat, signify to any but a few students of political history, a few explorers and naturalists? Not till within the last year has Morocco been open to travel from Tangier to the Great Atlas, and from Moulay Idriss to the Atlantic. Three years ago Christians were being massacred in the streets of Salé, the pirate town across the river from Rabat, and two years ago no European had been allowed to enter the Sacred City of Moulay Idriss, the burial-place of the lawful descendant of Ali, founder of the Idrissite dynasty. Now, thanks to the energy and the imagination of one of the greatest of colonial administrators, the country, at least in the French zone, is as safe and open as the opposite shore of Spain. All that remains is to tell the traveler how to find his way about it.”
I have decided to record our travels in Morocco in a slightly different way. The country seems strangely unified; there were no obvious areas of difference. Cities, especially the medinas where we stayed, were interestingly interchangeable, and life seemed to follow the same paths that it had for centuries. It was not “third world”, in the sense that people were poor or without resources. Rather, it was as if we were entering a world in which we made absolutely no difference. That world had existed and would continue to exist, in everything essential, as ordered. Inshallah. Therefore, while I will record the itinerary and all of our adventures, I will limit the photos of each day to sites unique to that place. The things that were ubiquitous will each have its own section. Look and see if you agree.
Day 0 Oct 12 fly from JFK:
Departure Thu, Oct 12: Royal Air Maroc 201 JFK 9 PM Terminal 1
Arrival Casablanca Fri, Oct 13 CMN 8:50 AM Terminal 2
6 hr 50 min 32A, 32C
Sue arrived about 3 and was greeted joyfully by Abner. She will be his “keeper” for the next two weeks. Our regular driver, Herb, pulled in at 3:30 and we were off for the long ride to JFK. Through Security, grabbed a quick bite and boarded on time. We lucked out with an empty seat between us. Dinner (pretty poor) was served and we tried unsuccessfully to sleep.
Day 1 Friday Oct 13 Casablanca/ Rabat (1 h 12 min).
Small breakfast just before we landed a bit early. Met our driver, Rostom, and found the car, a nice big Mercedes SUV. We decided to skip Casablanca and head directly for the capital, Rabat. The area around Rabat was busy, smoggy from dozens of large old-looking factories, and packed with cranes building new apartment buildings. Scattered among this industrial wasteland were dusty farm plots where dusty sheep and dusty cattle grazed on dusty stubble. Fields of cactus, a newly developed crop, lined the road. Produced for its oil (@ $1000 a liter), it is used by the pharmaceutical industry to treat diabetes.
Heading into Rabat from Tangiers, Wharton wrote: “Speeding along between the stunted cork-trees of the forest of Mamora brought us to a last rise from which we beheld in the dusk a line of yellow walls backed by the misty blue of the Atlantic. Salé, the fierce old pirate town, where Robinson Crusoe was so long a slave, lay before us, snow-white in its cheese-coloured ramparts skirted by fig and olive gardens. Below its gates a stretch of waste land, endlessly trailed over by mules and camels, sloped down to the mouth of the Bou-Regreg, the blue-brown river dividing it from Rabat. Across the river the native town of Rabat lay piled up on an orange-red cliff beaten by the Atlantic. Its walls, red too, plunged into the darkening breakers at the mouth of the river, and behind it, stretching up to the mighty tower of Hassan, and the ruins of the Great Mosque, the scattered houses of the European city showed their many lights across the plain. Salé the white and Rabat the red frown at each other over the foaming bar of the Bou-Regreg, each walled, terraced, minareted, and presenting a singularly complete picture of the two types of Moroccan town, the snowy and the tawny. To the gates of both the Atlantic breakers roll in with the boom of northern seas, and under a misty northern sky.”
L'Ma Lodge http://www.lmalodge.com/en/ This lovely riad was recommended by the family in the tent next to ours last night. And a great recommendation it turned out to be! L'Ma (water in Arabic) is a charming guest house situated in the palm groves of Skoura. The Lodge has a large garden with hundreds of palm and fruit trees and a free form pool. It consists of the Maison (house), common living areas with lounges, an open fireplace and a terrace; and further away, peacefully, the Riad which hosts 4 bedrooms and 3 comfortable and spacious suites with tadelakt (traditional Moroccan) bathroom and views of the garden and the palm groves. I took a relaxing swim in the private pool. The Skoura palm grove, near Ouarzazate, is one of the few groves still inhabited and cultivated. The owner, Jan, worked for Club Med until the Chinese bought it and changed the ambiance. It took six years of backbreaking work to transform the desert property to the oasis it is today. We had a drink (alcohol!) in the garden before our meal, which was delicious and served inside. Fresh organic salad from the garden, delicious organic chicken tagine, and a lemon-lime frothy drink for dessert. Best meal of the trip.
At first the land was flat and dusty, but then almost out of nowhere, tall dunes rose up and filled the horizon. The ripples in the sand make you think of water, even though there isn't any to be seen. Imagine swaying on a camel out into the Berber tents, watching your shadows distort with the curves of the dunes. Our tent was comfortable, with nice toilet, sink and shower. Dinner in the main tent was very nice and atmospheric
Sipped mint tea and listened to the lively ethnic music from the comfort of our tent before falling asleep under the millions of stars.
Ruddy Turnstones
The hotel had a bar so we had Moroccan wine with our final dinner.
Marsh Harrier
Day 5 Tuesday, Oct 17 Fes
After breakfast on the terrace (interesting note. Later, in Marrakesh, I bought one of the mosaic plates to match the afghan I've been working on).
Rostom arrived with Younes, who will lead our guided tour of the medina, one of the world's largest walled cities, and is also one of the world's largest car-free urban areas. We began with a ride around the walls, a brief history of Fes and the King's Palace, where we got out.
We left Essouria and drove through arid country with olive groves on the Atlantic coastal road with a stop at El Oualidia. This delightful resort town spreads around a gorgeous crescent-shaped lagoon fringed with golden sands and protected from the wild surf by a rocky breakwater. With a good selection of accommodations and great fish restaurants (the town is particularly famous for its oysters), it's a popular weekend and summer retreat for Marrakshis and Casablancais, and a perfect destination for those needing some R & R. Out of season it is quiet, with little more to do than relax, surf and gorge on shellfish. A young man on a bicycle was following the car as we drove into town. He and Rostom talked, and we followed him to a beautiful little beach. There were tables with umbrellas and men grilling fresh seafood. We had oysters, grilled shrimp, grilled dorado, and a first, sea urchin. The man with them in his bucket came up to our table and cut them open with scissors and we slurped them down. What a find!
Hassan Tower or Tour Hassan is the minaret of an incomplete mosque built by Yacoub-el-Mansour, the 4th of the great Almohad Sultans who, in the 12th c., drove out the effete Almoravids and swept their victorious armies from Marrakech to Tunis and from Tangier to Madrid. Begun in 1195, the tower was intended to be the largest minaret in the world along with the mosque, also intended to be the world's largest. In 1199, Yacoub died and construction on the mosque stopped. The tower reached 140 ft, about half of its intended 260 ft height. The rest of the mosque was also left incomplete, with only the beginnings of several walls and 200 columns.
The part of the stone wall on the right was destroyed in the famous earthquake of 1755, which also destroyed Lisbon. It’s been saved because it appears to be a pretty accurate map of Morocco.
With an exquisite beach to the south, Essaouira has become one of Morocco's most popular coastal towns. Many of the country's wood carvers and artists make Essaouira their home. Rostom delivered us to the Riad Mimouna http://www.riad-mimouna.com/en
Next to the ocean, the Mimouna is a traditional riad offering peaceful accommodation and a large terrace with panoramic sea views in Essaouira. This former windmill dating from 1896 was in ruins before being renovated and converted into a riad. The form of the windmill was preserved during the renovation works. In the entrance hall, for example, you can see the curved shape of the original windmill, and the spiral stairway is a reminder of the building's past (it's also quite a climb to the third floor). The Moroccan architectural style was also preserved. This riad is bigger than the others we've stayed in, but this doesn't alter its charm and elegance. Its terrace has a breathtaking view of the sea and the fortification walls.
Day 4 Monday, Oct 16 Chefchaouen / Fes (3h 17m)
Left at 9:30 (Rostoms favorite time) for Fes, the cultural and spiritual capital of Morocco. Drove through an agricultural area mostly plowed for the next planting. Olive groves with cooperative olive presses. Lots of pomegranates, my new favorite fruit. Everybody riding on donkeys or in donkey carts. The morning was much the mildest so far. Stopped for gas about noon and the grilling lamb smelled inviting so we ordered a half kilo, which came with fresh grilled bread. Jerry is even becoming addicted to the tea.
Essaouira (pronounced essa-weera, or es-Sweera in Arabic) is at once familiar and exotic with its fortified walls, fishing harbour and seagulls soaring and screaming over the town. At first it seems as though this could be a town in Brittany, France not such a strange thought given that Essaouira was designed by the same Frenchman who designed Brittany's most famous port town, Saint-Malo. And yet once you enter the walls, it is also infinitely Moroccan: narrow alleyways, wind that reputedly drives people crazy, the smells of fish guts and damp sea air mixed with aromas of spices and thuya wood, women in white haiks (veils), and midday palm-tree shadows on red city walls. It is the coastal wind the beautifully named alizee, or taros in Berber, that ensures Essaouira retains its character. It blows too hard to attract sun, sand and sea tourists: for much of the year, you can't sit on the beach at all as the sand blows horizontally in your face. No surprise then that Essaouira has been dubbed Wind City of Africa and attracts so many windsurfers. The charm of the town is that it hasn't been entirely taken over by tourism. The fishing harbor is just as busy as it always was, the woodworkers are still amazing at their craft, and the medina is just as important for locals as it is popular with tourists. The light and beauty have forever attracted artists to Essaouira, and the town has a flourishing art scene.
We had dinner in the restaurant. The site was beautiful. Jerry had a delicious white fish in a sauce Normande. Mine wasn't so good, but the view was great.
Today, reconstruction shows the various layers required to create such a masterpiece.
The medina looks different after dark, and is a bit cooler. For sure we walked off all the calories when we became slightly disoriented in the narrow, twisting streets. The residents were mostly helpful, but the first three, confidently asserting their knowledge, sent us in the wrong direction. Finally we found the man who had sold us lemonade in the afternoon and he started our successful return (it took about five more before we finally made it).
Our new-found friends from the desert had recommended the Grande Café de la Poste for dinner. Rostom, and his cousin and another friend drove us there and we had a fabulous French meal, drinks and wine. We even took advantage of their doggy-bag policy! When he picked us up to go home, we were ready for bed.
The Saadian tombs, once overlooked for years, are now a popular site for visitors to view the ornate tombs of members of the Saadian dynasty. Anyone who says you can't take it with you hasn't seen the Saadian Tombs, near the Mosque. Saadian Sultan Ahmed al-Mansour ed-Dahbi spared no expense on his tomb, importing Italian Carrara marble and gilding honeycomb muqarnas (decorative plasterwork) with pure gold to make the Chamber of the 12 Pillars a suitably glorious mausoleum. Al-Mansour played favorites even in death, keeping alpha-male princes handy in the Chamber of the Three Niches, and relegating to garden plots some 170 chancellors and wives, though some trusted Jewish advisors earned pride of place, literally closer to the king's heart than his wives or sons. All tombs are overshadowed by his mother's mausoleum in the courtyard, carved with poetic, weathered blessings and vigilantly guarded by stray cats. Al-Mansour died in splendor in 1603, but a few decades later, Alawite Sultan Moulay Ismail walled up the Saadian Tombs to keep his predecessors out of sight and mind. Accessible only through a small passage in the Kasbah Mosque, the tombs were neglected by all except the storks until aerial photography exposed them in 1917. EW was one of the first to visit them.
Audouin's Gull
Slender-billed Gulls
After we freshened up and had a short nap, Rostom returned and took us on a tour of the highlights of Rabat, an imperial city founded in the 12th c by the first of the great Almohad dynasty, Yacoub-el-Mansour, conqueror of Spain. The city stretches its mighty walls to the river’s mouth from which they climb to enclose The Kasbah (Citadel). Outside the Kasbah, to the south of the citadel the cliff descends to a long dune sloping to a sand beach; and dune and beach are covered with the slanting headstones of the immense Arab cemetery of El Alou [As-Shouhada]. Acres and acres of graves fall away from the red ramparts to the grey sea; and breakers rolling straight from America send their spray across the lowest stones. Muslims dig up the remains after forty years and reuse the plots, so the number of people represented by this graveyard is beyond counting.
Travelling from the ville nouvelle to Fès el-Bali (the medina) is like stepping back in time. The essential footprint of the medina hasn't changed in nearly a millennium, as the surrounding hills have constrained expansion. The last big growth of the traditional medina was in the 13th century. Today, around 156,000 Fassis still call this maze of twisting alleys, blind turns and hidden souks home, while tourists call it one of the most mind-boggling places they'll visit in Morocco. We explored the narrow streets of the souk lined with fresh fruit, mounds of spices, intricately woven Berber carpets and many other art objects of Morocco.
Following your nose will lead you to women with bundles of freshly cut herbs, children carrying trays of loaves to be baked in the local bakery or a cafe selling glasses of spiced Berber coffee. Around the next corner you might find a beautifully tiled fountain, a workshop making wooden hammam buckets, a camel's head announcing a specialist butcher, or just a gang of kids turning their alley into a football pitch. Everywhere, listen out for the call to prayer or the mule drivers cry balak! ( look out!) to warn of the approach of a heavily laden pack animal.
We, with a little trouble, got a cab to the Public (former Royal) Gardens and enjoyed a walkabout with greenery.
We stopped in the town of Midelt (3h 10m), famous for its fossils and rocks. Midelt sits in apple country between the Middle and the High Atlas. It consists of little more than one main street, a modest market and a number of oversized restaurants, which cater to the tourist buses whistling through on their way south. We got stuck at one of the latter. Rostom brought us in, talked to the head honcho, and went to the drivers area for his lunch. We ordered (camel), but an hour later, after all the Chinese bus people had eaten, we still had nothing. So we left. Our scheduled riad had sold our room to someone else, so we were upgraded to the Palais Masandoin in the Zone Touristique Arab Sebanziz. It was big and tried to be fancy, but the indoor pool and spa wasn't working, so no relaxing soak for us. The dinner was fair, with French ham (!?!) as an appetizer. But mostly it was a place to stop.
Marrakesh has lots of traditional Moroccan steam baths (hammams) which are a wonderful experience Zoo took us to one and we had a glass of tea.
When the tour was over, we went back to the riad, had a rest, and returned to La Place for a while before Rostom was to pick us up and take us to a recommended restaurant (no tagine) for dinner. Zoo led me to a shop where I got the perfect dish to match the afghan Ive been working on for months..
The road from Tinerhir passes green palmeraies and Berber villages
Ringed Plovers
Also loads of Great Flamingoes
We met our camels. They are rather phlegmatic. I got on mine, and all was good until Jerry kicked my poor old guy in the head and he (the camel) reared up.
Marrakech: Many desert caravans passed through this outpost before Almoravid Berber leader Youssef ben Tachfine and his savvy wife Zeinab recognized its strategic potential, and built ramparts around the encampment in AD 1062. The Almoravids established the city's khettara (underground irrigation system) and signature pink mudbrick architecture. The Almohads remodeled Marrakesh with a fortified kasbah, glorious gardens, qissariat (covered markets), a rebuilt Koutoubia and a triumphal gate (Bab Agnaou). The Merenids turned royal attention to Meknès and Fez. Life improved again in the 16th century, when the Saadians made Marrakesh the crux of lucrative sugar-trade routes, established a trading center for Christians and a protected mellah (Jewish quarter) in 1558. Ahmed al-Mansour ed-Dahbi (the Victorious and Golden) paved the Badi Palace with gold and took opulence to the grave in the gilded Saadian Tombs. Alawite leader Moulay Ismail preferred Meknès to Marrakesh, and moved his headquarters there. Marrakesh entered its Wild West period, with big guns vying for control. Those who prevailed built extravagant riads , though much of the population lived hand to mouth in crowded funduqs (rooming houses). In 1912 the French protectorate granted Pasha Glaoui the run of southern Morocco, while French and Spanish colonists built themselves a ville nouvelle. Without a clear role post-Independence, Marrakesh resumed its fall-back career as a caravanserai and became the nation's breakaway success.
The Chellah is a medieval fortified Muslim necropolis located in the metro area of Rabat, on the south (left) side of the Bou Regreg estuary. The Phoenicians established a trading emporium at the site and called it "Sala". This was later the site of the ancient Roman colony of "Sala Colonia", in the Roman province of Mauretania Tingitana.
Rostom was able to drive into the old city and parked in front of L'Iglesia where we had reservations. Apparently that hotel is closed and we were redirected around the corner to Le Capitaine, a very nice riad, where, after the obligatory tea, we climbed to the third floor tower room with a lovely view. Later we toured l'Iglesia.
This was a very long, hot climb, and I really felt my age. The next morning my left hip was so sore I could hardly walk. I much preferred the kasbah in Chefchouen. After our visit we continued the drive over the High Atlas Mountains. Shortly, Rostom got one of his many ticket/bribe opportunities from the Moroccan Traffic Patrol.
We crossed the Tizi n'Tichka Pass (2260 m/7500 ft), the highest major mountain pass of North Africa.
Dar Al Medina Al Kadima http://www.darfesmedinakadima.com/
The riad, situated near the Batha museum (unfortunately closed both days of our visit). Our guest house in Fez consists of a large patio and a Moroccan lounge. The bathroom is excellent, there is TV with English channels, A/C, and the lobby is beautiful. Dinner on the rooftop, with another view of the palm tree cell tower next to the mosque: Harari soup with little honey-dipped cakes; tagine. Walked around the souk.
Black-backed Gulls
Turning west at the covered Mellah Market In the narrow derbs (alleys) of the city's historic Jewish quarter are the tallest mud-brick buildings in Marrakech. Most of the Jewish families moved away in the 1960s, but the mellah remains notable for tall mud-brick homes along single-file streets and cross-alley gossip through wrought-iron balconies. Zoo took us into the local synagogue.
Fes's Royal Palace, or the Dar el-Makhzen, unfortunately, is not open to the public, but the outside is still worth a visit. The seven golden gates that mark the entrance to the palace can only leave you imagining how grand it is inside. These famous, beautiful brass doors with matching knockers (cleaned with lemon juice) are covered with intricate patterns. Surrounding the doors is tile work, or zellij, and carved cedar wood. The current King of Morocco uses the palace when he visits Fes. It has stunning gardens, mosques, beautifully painted ceilings, and an ancient school for Koranic studies, or Madrassa, dating back to the 14th century. Maybe one day they'll open it to the public.
Rostand wanted to take us to the "real Morocco", so we went to Rissani for their souk (photos in Souk section) Then we went into town for wood-fired madfouna (Berber calzone) at Pizzeria des Dunes.
Community Oven (note the satellite dish) and Community Well
Gail South
Day 9 Saturday, Oct 21 Marrakech (5h 16m)
After breakfast, Rostom arrived and we headed off towards Marrakech. On the way we stopped to visit one of the jewels of Morocco, Kasbah Ait (meaning tribe) Benhaddou, a massive red clay fortification. You might think that this off-the-beaten-path setting would be unknown, but it has been used for more films than any other location in Morocco; films including, Lawrence of Arabia, Jesus of Nazareth, and recently The Gladiator. We nicknamed it Mollywood. This group of buildings was named an UNESCO World Heritage site because of its stunning display of southern Moroccan architecture.
Dinner, with Oued player accompaniment at Dar Al Bathae
Caspian Terns
Kairaouine Mosque: One of Africa's largest mosques and possibly the oldest university in the world, this mosque complex is the spiritual heart of Fez and Morocco itself. Established in 859 by Fatima el-Fihria, a Tunisian woman refugee, and expanded by the Almoravids in the 12th century, it can accommodate up to 20,000 people at prayer. Non-Muslims cannot enter and will have to be content with glimpses of its courtyard from the main door on Derb Boutouil. Marble floors, heavy whitewashed piers, prostrate figures in the penumbra, rows of yellow slippers outside in the sunlight out of such glimpses one must reconstruct a vision.
Medersa Bou Inania founded in AD 135156 by Abu Inan Faris. It is widely acknowledged as an excellent example of Marinid architecture. The medersa (madrasa) functioned both as an educational institute and as a congregational mosque. This is the only medersa in Fes with a minaret. Opposite the main doorway is the entrance to the dar al-wu (ablutions house) for washing limbs and face before prayers. Left and right of the central court there are classrooms. The medersa is one of the few religious places in Morocco that is accessible for non-Islamic visitors. A Special Event limited our time in the medersa.
Jerry and the Mayor
In the 16th Century, the Portuguese were in Mazagan, a port known by the Europeans since the beginning of the Christian age. They were building a fortified town encircled by massive walls of hewn stone. Two centuries later, Mazagan was liberated and renamed El Jadida, The New One, today it is a registered UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Then into town to see the famous cistern. Built in 1514, this former warehouse (possibly an armory) was converted into a cistern in the sixteenth century. The underground chamber, measuring 34 meters by 34 meters, was constructed with five rows of five stone pillars. The cistern is famous especially for the thin layer of water that covers the floor, and which creates fine and exciting reflections from the little light there is and the spartan shapes of the columns and the roof. Its visual qualities are such that several movies have been filmed within the cavernous space, of which Orson Welles' Othello is the best known internationally.
The caravansary, once used to house travelling merchants and their animals, is now a place for workmen /artisans to make and sell their wares. We bought a small iron hook at the blacksmith (at the mayor’s urging).
After lunch, we headed to Chefchaouen, the famous blue city of Morocco in the Rif Mountains, where almost everything is a cool shade of blue. Dinner was olives and bread, and a tagine, a typical Moroccan-style dish made with fish, vegetables, spices (ras-el-hanout, a tangy blend of around 30 spices including turmeric, paprika, cardamom, chilli, cumin, cinnamon and more) and oil served on a bed of fluffy couscous (a dish that would become very familiar to us).
We found Rostom as we walked through the mellah--photo with our guide Zoo on his right.
Day 11 Monday, Oct 23 Marrakech/Essaouira) (2h 39m)
After breakfast, we left the traffic of Marrakesh
During breakfast (olives and eggs and delicious fresh breads including Msemen Bread, or rghaif, a square pancake fried in a pan and served with butter, jam, or syrup), we met Abdeslam Mouden, our guide for the morning, owner of the riad, and future mayor of the town of Chefchaouen. Inshallah. He is a charming man who claims to know all 18,000 residents. During our tour, we only met about 500.
The red and white striped skirt and the pom-pom hat are traditional in Chefchouen
Later, we stopped at a roadside overview to photograph the SIdi Chahed Dam & Reservoir surrounded by red and blue hills. The dam reservoir was built in the 1990's 30 kms from the cities of Fez and Meknes. This massive dam can supply over 30 million gallons (170 million m3) of backup tap water to the city of Meknes, and irrigation for about 90 farming communities. Although almost entirely unknown to Moroccans, it's easy to see the importance this has for the surrounding communities.
Our walking tour started in the mellah (the Jewish quarter, still a vibrant area full of life. Where Younes explained history and also customs, such as the rigmarole involved with getting married.
House Bunting
Berber Taxi
We stopped for lunch: grilled lamb at a lovely roadside eatery.
It was about 11 when we reached Rabat, and Friday prayers were causing much apparently unregulated traffic, and the walls of the city paralleled our route as we entered Sale. Our driver is terrific.
Salé: The Arab quarter of Rabat has long been modernized, but “ferocious old Salé. Phoenician counting-house and breeder of Barbary pirates, has been saved from profanation by its Moslem fanaticism. Few Christian feet had entered its walls except those of the prisoners who, like Robinson Crusoe, slaved for the wealthy merchants in his mysterious terraced houses. Not till 1914-15 was it completely pacified. Within the walls, the magic persists. Salé has the charm of extreme compactness. Crowded between the river-mouth and the sea, its white and pale-blue houses almost touch across the narrow streets, and the reed-thatched bazaars seem like miniature reductions of the great trading labyrinths of Tunis or Fez. Here everything is on a small scale and exudes a feeling of listlessness. The feeling increases outside of the bazaar where a deep hush broods over the well-to-do quarters, with heavy-nailed doors barring half-ruined houses.” [EW]
From the sea, El Jadida's old city has a very "un-Moorish" appearance; it has massive Portuguese walls of hewn stone. The design of the Fortress of Mazagan is a response to the development of modern artillery in the Renaissance. The star form of the fortress measures 250m by 300m. The slightly inclined, massive walls are 8m high on average, with a thickness of 10m, enclosing a patrolling peripheral walkway 2m wide.
Founded in 789, the city started as a modest Berber town, but then 8000 families fleeing Muslim Spain and Portugal settled the east bank of the Oued Fez. They were later joined by Arab families from Kairouan (Qayrawan) in modern-day Tunisia, who took over the west bank, creating the Kairaouine quarter. The heritages of these two peoples formed a solid foundation for future religious, cultural and architectural richness. Fez continued to enjoy peace and prosperity until the 10th century. Over the next centuries, the fortunes of Fez rose and fell with the dynasties.
Fez continued to be a crucial crossroads, wielding intellectual rather than political influence. With the Kairaouine Mosque and University already well established, it was the center of learning and culture in an empire stretching from Spain to Senegal. It recovered its political status only much later, with the arrival of the Merenid dynasty around 1250. During the 19th century, as central power crumbled and European interference increased, the distinction between Marrakesh and Fez diminished, with both effectively serving as capitals of a fragmented country. Fez retained its status as the spiritual capital. It was here, on 30 March 1912, that the treaty introducing the French and Spanish protectorates over Morocco was signed. Less than three weeks later, rioting and virtual revolt against the new masters served as a reminder of the city's volatility. The French may have moved the political capital to Rabat, but Fez remains a constituency to be reckoned with.
EW said in 1917: It is usual to speak of Fez as very old, and the term seems justified when one remembers that the palace of Bou-Jeloud stands on the site of an Almoravid Kasbah of the eleventh century, that when that Kasbah was erected Fez Elbali had already existed for three hundred years, that El Kairouiyin is the contemporary of Sant' Ambrogio of Milan, and that the original mosque of Moulay Idriss II was built over his grave in the eighth century. Fez is, in fact, the oldest city in Morocco without a Phoenician or a Roman past, and has preserved more traces than any other of its architectural flowering-time, yet it would be truer to say of it, as of all Moroccan cities, that it has no age, since its seemingly immutable shape is forever crumbling and being renewed on the old lines.
There was a long line at the famous tanneries, but Younes knew the security people, so we went in a secret door and were able to get to the top with no problems. At the Chouara Tannery, which dates back almost one thousand years, tanners soak cow, goat, sheep, and camel skins in vats. Some contain mixtures of cow urine to clean the skins, while others contain pigeon dung to soften the hides. A man gave us sprigs of mint to hold under our noses to cover the smell (which wasn't all that bad). To further soften the hides, the tanners stand in the vats to knead the skins with their feet.
Beautifully perched beneath the raw peaks of the Rif, Chefchaouen is one of the prettiest towns in Morocco, an artsy, blue-washed mountain village that feels like its own world. Surrounded by mountains and located near the Mediterranean Sea, Chefchaouen stays much cooler than Morocco’s desert cities further south. While tourism has definitely taken hold, the balance between ease and authenticity is just right. Chefchaouen is split into an eastern half (the medina), and a western half (the ciudad nueva, or new city). For the whole trip, our riads were in the medinas. The old medina is a delight of Moroccan and Andalucian influence with red-tiled roofs, bright-blue buildings and narrow lanes converging on the busy Plaza. The heart of the medina is Plaza Uta el-Hammam, with its unmistakable kasbah. The medina walls have recently been repaired, with Spanish funding. Long known to backpackers for the easy availability of kif (hashish) (see below for an example of a local “Hash Man”), the town has rapidly gentrified and offers a range of quality accommodations, good food, lots to do and no hassles to speak of (something we found to be true throughout our trip).
Oystercatcher
Moulay Ali ben Rachid founded Chaouen in 1471 as a base for Riffian Berber tribes to launch attacks on the Portuguese in Ceuta. The town expanded with the arrival of Muslim and Jewish refugees from Granada in 1494, who built the whitewashed houses, with tiny balconies, tiled roofs and patios (often with a citrus tree in the center), that give the town its distinctive Spanish flavor. The pale-blue wash prevalent today was introduced in the 1930s – previously windows and doors had been painted a traditional Muslim green. The town remained isolated and xenophobic – Christians were forbidden to enter on pain of death – until occupied by Spanish troops in 1920. When the Spanish arrived they were surprised to hear the Jewish inhabitants still speaking a variant of medieval Castilian. The Spanish were briefly thrown out by Abd al-Krim during the Rif War in the 1920s, but they soon returned and remained until independence in 1956.
With Abdeslam leading the way, we walked and walked, then toured the kasbah.
In modern practice the peels are removed by hand. The next stage involves cracking the argan nut to obtain the argan kernels. Attempts to mechanize this process have been unsuccessful, so workers still do it by hand, making it a time-consuming, labor-intensive process. Berber women often engage in this arduous task. Workers gently roast kernels they will use to make culinary argan oil. After the argan kernels cool, workers grind and press them.
The brown-colored mash expels pure, unfiltered argan oil. Finally, they decant unfiltered argan oil into vessels. The remaining press cake is protein-rich and frequently used as cattle feed. Cosmetic argan oil is produced almost identically, though the argan kernels are not roasted to avoid an excessively nutty scent. The decanted argan oil is left to rest about two weeks so that solids suspended in the argan oil settle to the bottom. The clearer argan oil is further filtered, depending on the required clarity and purity. Pure argan oil may contain some sediment.
Rostom took us to a women's argan oil cooperative where I spent far too much money on products for gifts (and myself). This is real 100% and stamped by the USDA.
Day 10 Sunday, Oct 22 Marrakech
We had a quiet glass of tea on the terrace of the Café de la France and watched people go by until Rostom arrived. By day, La Place draws crowds with astrologers, snake-charmers, acrobats and dentists with jars of pulled teeth. It really comes alive at night with the local storytellers, entertainers, and mouth-watering barbeque pits. Met Rostom, who introduced us to our guide, Zoo.
We began our tour by driving to the Koutoubia Mosque. Five times a day, one voice rises above the Djemaa din in the adhan (call to prayer): that's the muezzin calling the faithful from atop the Koutoubia Mosque minaret. Excavations confirm a longstanding Marrakshi legend: the original mosque built by Almoravid architects wasn't properly aligned with Mecca, so the pious Almohads levelled it to build a realigned one. When the present mosque was finished by Sultan Yacoub el-Mansour in the 12th century, 100 booksellers were clustered around its base hence the name, from kutubiyyin, or booksellers. While the Koutoubia serves a spiritual purpose, its minaret is also a point of reference for international architecture. The 12th-century 70m-high tower is the prototype for Seville's La Giralda and Rabat's Le Tour Hassan, both of which we have seen, and it's a monumental cheat sheet of Moorish ornament: scalloped keystone arches, jagged merlons (crenellations), and mathematically pleasing proportions. The minaret was sheathed in Marrakshi pink plaster, but experts opted to preserve its exposed stone in its 1990s restoration. It was designed so as to prevent anyone gazing in from the minaret to the harems of the king. Even in the modern day, such restrictions are enforced by blocking Google Earth access to Moroccans.
Rostom had to make several phone calls and several exits and entrances of the old city before we finally figured out where the riad was. A riad (from the Arabian word for garden) is a traditional Moroccan house or palace with an interior garden or courtyard. Today, many of these have been converted into hotels, and we are scheduled to stay most nights in one of them. The streets are very narrow and convoluted, and I can understand how one could easily get lost. A man from the riad met us and carried our bags left and right and left again to Le Repose.
Le Repose http://www.therepose.com/ The Repose is an oasis of calm in the heart of Salé's traditional Medina. Lovingly restored by the owners, Rachid and Jan (an Englishwoman whose mother gave us a delightful tour), this riad has been renovated and decorated using traditional materials and craftsmanship to give a haven of peace and tranquility. The whole riad oozes Moroccan charm and each of the 4 suites has its own unique identity. We were served tea and homemade pastries in the salon. The courtyard is great for sipping tea and listening to the splashes of the fountain, while the terrace is fabulous for breakfast, sunbathing or siestas in the shade.
Also, with no photos:
Kingfisher
Curlew
Grey Heron
Sandpipers.
Fes is an old and supremely self-confident city that has nothing to prove to anyone. Dynasties and booms have all come and gone in the city's 1200-year existence, and Fez will be around long after the next fashion has burned itself out. The city's allegiance, or at least submission, has always been essential to whoever held Morocco's throne, currently Mohammed VI, and much beloved by every Moroccan we encountered. Morocco's independence movement was born here, and when there are strikes or protests, they are often at their most vociferous in Fez.
For visitors, the walled medina of Fès el-Bali (Old Fez, founded in the 8th c) is the city's great drawcard. It's an assault on the senses, a warren of narrow lanes and covered bazaars filled to bursting with aromatic food stands, craft workshops, mosques and an endless parade of people. Old and new constantly collide the man driving the donkeys and mules that remain the main form of transport is likely to be chatting on his mobile phone, while the ancient skyline is punctuated equally with satellite dishes and minarets. Years of neglect have taken their toll on the medina, however. The authorities have taken note; the city walls have been repaired and much is being done to conserve buildings. Scaffolding is everywhere. Yet for all the romance of medina life to visitors, many residents have been happy to sell up to foreigners and swap their sometimes medieval living conditions for a modern apartment in the ville nouvelle.
That's what Rostom did (although I doubt that he had a place in the medina). We visited his spacious, marble-clad and crystal chandelier-hung three bedroom apartment and spent a happy hour visiting with his wife, Nadia and 18-month old daughter, Rasanne. His two older children were at school, but we left fidgets (spinners) for the kids. We shared tea and delicious pastries and chatted about the family.