Fes Day 1

By the time Friday came around Alison and I were not feeling too enthusiastic about Morocco and met each other at the gare routiere with nearly a whole pharmacy, food supplies and bottled water in case we couldn't eat anything, passport photocopies and the number of the British embassy to hand just in case. In typical French style our half hour train to Marseille wasn't running though there was no warning about this on the departure boards so it was up to us to ask and then sprint to the bus which was running as a replacement. The bus then took two and a half hours to get to Marseille- only two hours later than planned- and thank god we had booked our train well in advance! Nothing can be guaranteed with french public transport!

We went straight through security at Marseille, and into the departure lounge which further added to our unease as there seemed to be no other tourists heading to Fes and Alison and I certainly stuck out like sore thumbs among the native Moroccans. We seemed to be even more curious as we arrived in Fes airport- turning heads wherever we went. We had arranged to be picked up from the airport by our guides Muhammad and Mohammed but as we walked out of departures scanning the crowd for a sign with our names on it, we were met by a barrage of jaw dropped Moroccans but no sign of Muhammad or Muhammad. We sat for an hour outside of the tiny Fes airport hoping we hadn't been abandoned, with men calling out and making 'tsk'ing noises at us; 'you want fast taxi pretty girls?'  etc etc. 

An hour later Muhammad's driver arrived and drove us into Fes for our first view of the old town. The old medina in Fes dates back to the 9th century and is the largest pedestrianised urban area in the world. Consequently we had to get out of the taxi for which we paid 150 dirham (15 euros) and got back our first 50 dirham change (5 euros) at the blue gate into the medina and a Moroccan man immediately loaded our suitcases into a cart and led us through the streets to the hostel. To say it was my first experience out of Europe it was an unbelievable culture shock- the litter lying through the streets, lined with beggars and everywhere the men staring calling out 'so good', 'so beautiful', 'very good' and in some extreme cases, 'I give my life for you'. We arrived at the hostel and thanked the luggage man, starting to head into the hostel when he grabbed Alison's arm and held out his hand. We'd forgotten the tipping culture and Alison pulled the 50 dirham out of her purse- both of us slightly flustered because we had no change or no idea what was appropriate to tip. The man spotted the 50 dirham note and took the decision out of hands, taking it hastily from Alison, thanking us and departing us at the speed of light. As it turned out later a more appropriate tip is around 5 dirham we actually paid him 10 x his due so it's no wonder he made a speedy departure.

Muhammad and Muhammad greeted us with mint tea, very sweet and slightly sickening and showed us to our room which was very nice considering it cost around 16 euros a night, and certainly for Moroccan standards. 

Then Muhammad took us out to get some money changed, and buy some water, gave us a cheery wave and told us he'd see us later. We were officially alone in morocco. We set off up the hill to the viewpoint, hoping to see the sunset on our first night in Fes. At the sight of us approaching, one man leapt up from his perch on the side of the road. 'You're looking for the viewpoint?' We nodded. 'I show you way?' We shook our heads, thinking we were smarter than that. He pointed us in the direction and insisted again that he show us the way. We declined firmly in French and in English. So we set off walking and five minutes later the same guy comes running down the road after us. 'It's this way,' he said, pointing in the direction we were already walking. 'I show you the way'. Again we shook our heads firmly and explained we could go alone. 'But I am already walking that way?' And so resigned, we shrugged. He then led us on a very abbreviated tour of the viewpoint and tanneries (abbreviated in the sense that we later realised he showed us neither) and back into the heart of the medina where he stopped in a dark alley and said 'I make you happy- you make me happy'. We asked to go into the light of the street, opened our bags and I, determined not to make the same mistake as the bag man, confidently handed him 5 dirham. He recoiled. 'But no- that is an insult. That is nothing to us.' I hesitated and added another 5. Again he held up his hands and insisted we were insulting him. We shrugged and said we had no more- we didn't want a tour- he could take it or leave it. At this point he got angry and started shouting at us that we were insulting him and his culture- that we are everything that is wrong with tourists destroying Morocco and his livelihood. Thankfully Alison spotted an American family walking down the street and asked them if we could stand with them, explaining our predicament and they told us not to worry and to walk with them down the street. As we did he followed, yelling obscenities at us. Eventually the man in the American party, turned round and said something to the man in Arabic, so he stopped and continued to shout from the top of the street.  We were both pretty shaken up and followed the family a long way down the street before we felt brave enough to turn round and head back all the way back up to the blue gate and try to track down our hostel. 

We did get to take some good pictures on our free tour.

By the time we got back we were exhausted and didn't feel a lot like embarking on another adventurous exploration of the medina to find a restaurant so we asked Muhammad and Muhammad their recommendation and they, of course, took us to their other hostel, which had a restaurant too. It was freezing cold and the food wasn't such a great first taste of Moroccan food, but we were very happy to have been escorted there and back by Muhammad and Muhammad. We only paid 3.50 euros each for a chicken tagine to share (the menu was vast- beef tagine or chicken tagine) and we had the chance to meet the other travelers eating at the hostel. To round off the evening we ended up sitting on the freezing roof terrace with them- a group of us that included people from England, Poland, Sweden, Germany, Japan, Argentina, Canada and Lithuania and we talked about travelling experiences and tried to open a bottle of wine with a hairpin. And so that was the end of day one. Our first day in morocco and though it didn't end badly, we both went to bed with mixed feelings about what was to come.