Posted at 17:30h
in
Blog
by Melanie Chambers
I was scared about visiting Morocco. As a blond, blue-eyed, solo girl, I heard stories and I naively believed them. In Portugal I met a woman from London, England who said a man wanted to trade her for a George Forman Grill! So far, no grills; no camels. I arrived in Casablanca late at night so I had a driver take me straight to my hotel ($40 if you prearrange). I saw two accidents on the way. Crowds of people standing and watching. One was a motorcycle accident with clothes strewn everywhere. I had to look away. Drivers are insane here.
I took a train to Fez the following morning. In the taxi, I'm ready to go, and a guy pops his head into the cab and yells at me: "ou?" As in,
where are you going? My cabbie and this dude started screaming at one another; eventually my driver high-tails it out of there. This is Casablanca.
Fes--the city of Moroccan artists and gastronomy--was still busy and overwhelming, but charming. Shop keepers are a bit pesky, trying to get you to buy something, but they are harmless. I walked by one guy twice. "What, you don't like me? You don't like my store? Why?" He laughs.
Start in the old medina (meaning old walled city); Fes' medina has 14 gates. It is 16 kms around and there are 187 neighbouhoods, each has its own bakery, mosque, hammam (bathhouse), fountain and Koranic school.