...continued from Part II: Around Marrakech
The journey wasn't very comfortable. Legroom was limited. Strangely enough they charged me a small amount for putting my small suitcase in the storage compartment. I slept in bits and pieces, and spoke a bit to my neighbor, a journalism and videography student on his way to Rabat . His brother was due to appear in an exam there and had forgotten some of his books. I reached Fes early at 5:30 am in the morning and had a delicious bean soup for breakfast at one of the stalls at the bus terminal. It was probably a staple breakfast there as many of the locals were having it as well.
Right across the bus stand was the entrance to the Fes Medina. All buildings here were a shade of cream, lighter than the colours in Marrakech. It took me 15 minutes to find my guesthouse, Dar El Bali. The host was kind enough to give me an 8 am check in. The courtyard was highly ornate, and the room was beautifully decorated. The coffee table contained a display of antique knives and jewelry. The bathroom tissue roll hung on a Berber statue, seeming as if it was a drum being played. I had some tea - served in a cutting chai type of glass - and left for exploring the surroundings.
Right across the bus stand was the entrance to the Fes Medina. All buildings here were a shade of cream, lighter than the colours in Marrakech. It took me 15 minutes to find my guesthouse, Dar El Bali. The host was kind enough to give me an 8 am check in. The courtyard was highly ornate, and the room was beautifully decorated. The coffee table contained a display of antique knives and jewelry. The bathroom tissue roll hung on a Berber statue, seeming as if it was a drum being played. I had some tea - served in a cutting chai type of glass - and left for exploring the surroundings.
I took the public bus to Meknes, another Moroccan medina that's part of UNESCO's world heritage list and situated on one of the verdant rolling hills that characterized the northern part of the country. I visited the tomb of a certain Moulay (saint) Ismail and checked out the Dar Jamai museum which had a good exhibit of clothes, weapons, jewelry etc. The displays there, as in most other places, were only in Arabic and French, leaving no room for the Queen's language. Given the proximity to Spain, some people spoke Spanish and I managed to have a barebones conversation with a police officer regarding directions.
After strolling about in the Medina for a while, I had a sandwich and fries lunch, and took the city bus to the small town of Moulay Idriss. Passing through the newer parts of Meknes, I realized that houses even in the modern parts of Moroccan cities weren't more than 3-4 floors tall. Perched on a hill slope 25 km from Meknes, Moulay Idriss houses the tomb of Morocco's most important saint Idriss and is thereby the most holy site in the country. Consequently , non-Muslims are not allowed to spend the night there. They aren't allowed to visit the interior of the tomb either, so I walked up to the top of the town to get the heart beat going and get a nice view in the bargain.
Since I was in the mood for walking, I decide to hike the 4 km distance to the nearby site of Volubilis, a Roman ruin. It had all you would expect from a Roman city: temples, a forum, a basilica, communal latrines, a brothel and good plumbing. Quite a few of the columns and arches were intact. This site too was part of UNESCO's heritage list. The trip back to Meknes was a long one: taxi back to Moulay Idriss, city bus back to Meknes and the long distance bus to Fes. The latter thankfully took the expressway and didn't make 50 stops on the way like the bus I took in the morning.
A music fest was going on in the plaza outside the Fes medina walls, and the area was teeming with shoppers even as there seemed to be little sign of the music starting anytime soon. I had dinner at a restaurant recommended by the guesthouse, Cafe Genuoune. They served me a lentil soup gratis as I waited for my order of a vegetarian Tagine. The soup was delicious and the Tagine tasted good too. The carrots seemed to have gained a distinctive taste. But there is only so much one can have of a dish that has just carrots, potatoes, beans and olives. For vegetarians I think it is better to stick to couscous with vegetables. I was very tired after the long day and went to bed by 9 pm, glad that I had a proper bed instead of an uncomfortable bus seat.
The next day's plan was to explore Fes, the earliest major capital of Morocco, the most populated car-free urban area in the world and at one time considered to be the largest city in the world. No prizes for guessing that Fes is on the UNESCO list as well.
The first stop of the day was a visit to the Bou Inania Madarssa, smaller than the Ben Yousef Madarssa in Marrakech, but similar in design - ornate doors and arches, marble columns, floor and lower wall covered by ceramic tiles, the middle wall by plaster carvings, and the upper wall with intricate woodwork. This was one of the earliest schools in the country and it's design become the gold standard for others to emulate.
Making my way through Talaa Gebira, one of the major thoroughfares in the Medina, I passed the Souk Attarine, once the biggest spice market in the world but now overrun by shops selling cheap sunglasses and fake handbags. At the center of town, I visited the Attarsine Medersa and then looked to find one of the tanneries that Fes is well known for. I would have managed to find myself, but I got one of the locals to guide me to one in exchange for a small tip. It seemed a few hundred people made their living by guiding lost souls through the maze of the old city. I was visiting a tannery for the first time. I was a given a few mint leaves to smell during the visit to keep off the disgusting odours. One of the shop workers took me to the terrace where I got a bird's eye view of the process: washing of the hide in a rotary drum, removal of hair in vats filled with calcium carbonate, and then dyeing in another set of vats using natural ingredients, one of which was pigeon poop - its purpose was to soften the leather. On one side, some hides were being saffron dyed one at a time by two men, a labour intensive process that made them expensive.
After the tannery visit, and skipping it's associated shop, I headed to the Andalusian Quarter. I was disappointed to find it no different from the rest of town, and headed back to the center of town where there were a few mosques and mausoleums that non-Muslims like me were peeking into. At every one of them a young man or boy would approach me and offer to take me to some nearby terrace from where I could get a good view of the monument. If I asked them if they were a guide, they'd all give the same reply: I am no guide, I am a student.
Walking about, I reached Talaa Sagira, the other major thoroughfare. I bought a small wall piece, the kind wherein decorative doors cover a mirror. I dropped it at the guesthouse, checked my email and then headed out to explore Fes el Jdid. Taking it's name from the Jews (Jdid) who settled there, it is often referred to as new Fes, though "new" still means a few hundred years old. The first Fes was thereafter called Fes El Bali (old Fes) . En route, I passed the gardens of Jnane Sbil, which were nice and tranquil, but nothing to crow about. Fes el Jdid itself had little to offer, except a 300 year old synagogue, which had to be specially opened by a woman who lived next door. I hope that most of the 20 dirhams she took an entry fee was really for the upkeep of the place rather than a "convenience charge" for her. I also had to tip the boy who called her from her home.
At one end of Fes el Jdid was the Royal Palace, but one could only admire the doors and imagine the interiors. I retraced my steps through the new city and the garden to reach the high recommended Batha museum, only to realize that it was one of the venues for the music fest and the exhibits were thus closed early for the day. I thought it would be fun to watch the concert instead and bought a ticket.
There was still an hour to go for the 4:30 pm concert and I went for a stroll. I saw a Hamam and figured I didn't have much to do post the concert and made a reservation. As soon as I stepped out of it's premises, a tout approached me and offered to take me to another hamam for half the price. It was a tantalizing offer, but I wondered if it could be a shady place and declined.
The concert consisted of a quartet of piano, saxophone, a traditional string instrument that looked like a guitar but sounded like a sitar, and a set of traditional drums. I had no idea of the context of the music as the piano player gave some commentary in French, but I overheard names like Mendelssohn and Tchaikovsky. The way I understood it, it was a good mix of classical, jazz and traditional themes. The highlight though was enjoying the music while lying down on the carpet laid out between the stage and the seats, in the middle of museum garden. It threatened to rain but never did, though the strong gusts had leaves strewn over the audience.
Post the show I scrapped the Hamam plan and went shopping instead. I almost bought what I thought to be a table lamp but it turned out to be an incense burner. I checked out hand embroidered table runners and napkins, but they were quite expensive, and I couldn't be sure they were handmade. Finally I ended up just buying a top for Jyoti. For dinner I had what I like to call a kitchen sink sandwich: besides the usual veggies, it had rice, fries, and potato bhajias. Adjacent to the sandwich store was a cigarette stall with a poster of Shahrukh Khan of the 90s. The odd shop in the Medina played songs from DDLJ and K2H2.
There was still an hour to go for the 4:30 pm concert and I went for a stroll. I saw a Hamam and figured I didn't have much to do post the concert and made a reservation. As soon as I stepped out of it's premises, a tout approached me and offered to take me to another hamam for half the price. It was a tantalizing offer, but I wondered if it could be a shady place and declined.
The concert consisted of a quartet of piano, saxophone, a traditional string instrument that looked like a guitar but sounded like a sitar, and a set of traditional drums. I had no idea of the context of the music as the piano player gave some commentary in French, but I overheard names like Mendelssohn and Tchaikovsky. The way I understood it, it was a good mix of classical, jazz and traditional themes. The highlight though was enjoying the music while lying down on the carpet laid out between the stage and the seats, in the middle of museum garden. It threatened to rain but never did, though the strong gusts had leaves strewn over the audience.
Post the show I scrapped the Hamam plan and went shopping instead. I almost bought what I thought to be a table lamp but it turned out to be an incense burner. I checked out hand embroidered table runners and napkins, but they were quite expensive, and I couldn't be sure they were handmade. Finally I ended up just buying a top for Jyoti. For dinner I had what I like to call a kitchen sink sandwich: besides the usual veggies, it had rice, fries, and potato bhajias. Adjacent to the sandwich store was a cigarette stall with a poster of Shahrukh Khan of the 90s. The odd shop in the Medina played songs from DDLJ and K2H2.
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