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We were awoken before dawn by a muffled thump and soft “Hello?” by one of the camp attendants. We hastily dressed and climbed a short distance up a nearby dune. The walk revealed still-tender muscles from the camel ride the night before. The air was crisp-yet-warm.


Turning to the east we saw the first sliver of the sun as it began to inch over the distant mountains. Unlike anything we have seen before, the sun rose quickly…showing visibly fast progress. In a matter of literally 1-2 minutes, the sun was up…big and bright although still muted by the horizon’s morning haze. Our camels grunted nearby.


Youssef arrived to whisk us back to the hotel for a much-needed shower, a change of clothes, and a quick breakfast. And then we were off. We spent the day driving in the desert between the High Atlas and Anti-Atlas mountain ranges. No more dunes…only dry rocky desert, broken up by beautiful, lush palm oases.


Drove through Rissani and its oasis. The seemingly disorganized oasis revealed order upon further inspection: low mounds encircled tiny plots of land to capture extra water and provide deeper irrigation. Palms laden with huge bunches of ripening deep-yellow dates provided cooling shade. The road wound back and forth, criss-crossing now-dry stream beds…low bridges waiting in anticipation of the next flash flood.


Stopped at the tomb of the ancestor of the King and the patriarch of the current dynasty. A lush courtyard filled with palm dates. We were able to peek inside (but not enter) the mosque, with its ornate doors. As we drove on, school kids walked and biked in droves to start their school days. The air was warm, but a pleasant breeze cooled us in the car.


Back out in the desert, we stopped along the road to view dozens of curious mounds of dirt in the field. Turns out these were part of the irrigation system of hand-dug tunnels from the distant mountains. These mounds served as access points…not to remove water, but to provide sunlight and air to the tunnels, and to allow the removal of debris. A local guide led us down into a dry tunnel, and told a detailed tale. Naturally, we bought a couple of art trinkets in return. Nothing is ever free in Morocco.


As we made our way towards the Todra Gorge, we wound up above an enormous palm oasis, fed by the mountain river coming through the gorge. Stunning vistas of the lush green oasis bordered by hundreds of mud-brown buildings, climbing the dry surrounding hills. Walked through the cool, craggy gorge. A babbling stream stood in stark contrast to the desert vistas we had been enjoying only minutes before. A cozy hotel hugged the gorge walls and provided a nice bathroom stop. A small art competition showcased a dozen local painters.


Stopped for lunch at a tiny riad on the winding road back out of the gorge. Dined with our new friends Lynn and Greg as we overlooked green hills topped by the ends of the rocky gorge walls. Meat skewers over charcoal. A wonderful chicken couscous dish. A simple and yummy lunch stop.


Passed through an oasis valley known for its roses (although not at this time of year). A perfume factory sat idle waiting for the next crop of fragrant pink roses.


As the sun sank below the horizon, we entered the bustling town of Ouarzazate, very popular with Hollywood film productions. Stopped at an off the beaten path Berber rug shop so that Jeff could wheel-and-deal in his quest for a much-sought-after Beni Ourain rug. Jeff played the game well, and found a few worthy specimens including a beautiful Berber wedding blanket. We may return in the morning to attempt to seal the deal.


The Dar Chamaa Kasbah Riad was our home for the evening. A very charming place, with a serene interior courtyard and a lush back garden with an inviting pool. Showers and then dinner were a top priority. Salad, a luscious chicken, and a dreamy chocolate crepe were a welcomed end to the day. The Speciale Flag beers didn’t hurt either!! We sat by the pool and enjoyed our first wifi connectivity in a couple of days. The sky lit up again with a brilliant star show as the hotel shut off its lights. How peaceful.

An extra-firm mattress couldn’t stop us from counting many, many sheep…or perhaps donkeys? We awoke refreshed, enjoyed a hot shower, and dined on a simple buffet breakfast. Coffee, breads with fruit spreads, honey-drizzled pastries.


Since we had arrived at the hotel in the pitch black of night, we truly had no sense of where we were. The strong morning light revealed a flat desert terrain around us with only a few tiny buildings out towards the horizons. Bright yellow-orange sand dunes sprung up nearby.


Today we traveled with Youssef’s gregarious cousin (also named Youssef…the operator of the tour company), who was driving a wonderfully charming Australian couple (Lynn and Greg) on a similar itinerary. Our two Land Cruisers, joined at the hip, set out to circle the portion of the desert we abutted.


First stop…a visit with the local Berber musicians from the night before. We sipped hot mint tea as they played traditional songs. They invited us to dance with them. We did.


Continuing on, we entered a clearly volcanic area. Black rock showed signs of lava flow. Orange desert sand was dusted in rocky ash from ancient volcanic activities. We stopped at an old mining area complete with now abandoned mud buildings. We skirted the closed border with Algeria on the horizon.


We visited with a nomadic woman and her son. Local guides help this woman by bringing visitors. She showed us warm generosity from meager means. We sat on rugs in her home…her simple tent. She prepared tea and offered us bread. Her young son (five-ish?) “drove” the guides’ trucks and lit up with sheer joy. A warm glimpse of a very different life from what we know.


Next stop was a typical well for water used by animals. The water table is quite high, and it was only 10ft deep. As we rounded the desert dunes, we passed a road rally. Trucks of various shapes sped by in the sand.


Returned to the hotel for lunch. A local “Berber pizza”…a large pocket of dough filled with spiced meats, onion, and tomato. It is buried on coals and covered with sand to bake. Truly wonderful and hearty.


About a half hour before sunset, we mounted camels for a trek to our desert stay for the night. Camels aren’t comfortable, but they surely are more sure-footed than we would be walking up and down sandy dunes. The dunes lit up as the sun sunk. Long shadows of us on our camels framed on the undulating, bright orange sands. The sun set in a magnificent glow beyond the dune peaks.


We arrived at our stay for the evening…a ring of Berber tents on the eastern edge of the sand dunes…perfect for sunrise views tomorrow. Inside the ring, carpets to keep out the chill and grit of the sand. Our new Australian friends offered us a drink of whiskey and pepsi. We shared a wonderful dinner as the stars came out. The camp was lit by candle lamps. Dinner was delicious. Rice with a warm tomato and pepper sauce. A big tangine of meat and vegetables topped with sunny side up eggs. Luscious melon to finish the meal.


Our hosts played some music (and let us try their drums too). But our thoughts were firmly fixed on the heavens above. The moon-less desert sky was crammed with stars. A stunning reminder of our location. The Milky Way arched brilliantly across the sky. Jupiter began to rise on the eastern horizon. The Big Dipper reminded us that no matter where our adventures take us (in the northern hemisphere at least) we are all staring at the same sky. A satellite slowly passed high above. Several meteorites whizzed across the sky…brilliant fireworks to end the evening. Just before bed, we spotted Orion rising in the east.


We fell into our beds. Not a sound to be heard. We will sleep well.

Filled with optimism that good things come from perseverance, we re-packed our bags, re-nourished our bodies with a final breakfast at the Palais Amani, and said hello to Youssef…our driver and guide for the next four days. Our destination lay some 500+ kilometers away on the edge of the desert.


In spite of a sniffly cold, Youssef was charming and eager to help turn our drive into a lesson about the wonders of his country. (Youssef works for a tiny family-run tour company called Ligne d’Aventure Maroc.)


We quickly left the medina and its medieval chaos behind for the natural beauty of the countryside.


In short order, the low fields of olives and almonds surrounding Fès transitioned to rocky plains and green(er) fields of the foothills. Clearly a lot more water up here. Apple trees line the roads.


Stopped in Ifrain, with its clear French influence. Buildings have Alpine chalet design with pitched roofs (as opposed to the typical Moroccan building, which is flat-roofed with a terrace on top.) This area is popular in the winter for its skiing and summer for its more moderate temperatures. Manicured public squares, fountains, and quiet pedestrian traffic stood in sharp contrast with Fes.


Continuing on, the trees turned to cedar and cork. Beautiful vistas of rolling livestock-trimmed green grass broken up by patches of rich orange-brown soil.


Drove thru a national park of tall cedars. Stopped in a grove popular with small, pink-faced monkeys. These guys were adorable, and they knew it. Youssef bought us a bag of tiny pears to feed the monkeys. Sometimes it felt that they were hiding their pears in one hand and extending the empty hand with a face that said “Oh me? I haven’t gotten one yet. I let my friends go first, of course.” But who could resist those adorable mugs. Nearby, children led decked-out donkeys up to us offering rides for a fee: “No merci.” (I don’t know how to say, “Are you nuts?”). Winding up through the forest, we passed the silvery bare trunk of an 850 year-old cedar.


Exiting the forest, we came to the rocky plains between the mid-Atlas and high-Atlas mountain ranges. Sheep, donkeys, and the occasional cow fed on the low grass. Our ears popped from the dramatic shift in altitude from Fes, far behind and below. Make-shift dams created wide pools in shallow streams for washing clothes. Tiny wood and clay huts dotted the valleys between rolling foothills. Occasionally a small tent served as a house.


We stopped for a brief lunch at one of the hotels along the highway that catered to tour groups…the Hotel Taddart. A simple buffet allowed us to nibble on salads and couscous and various meats. A couple of Moroccan beers washed it all down.


Rain clouds turned to downpours as we headed for a pass in the High Atlas. We followed the Ziz River as it carved its way through the mountains, eventually winding our way down from the mountains through the Ziz Valley. Stepped brown and orange ridges on either side of us. The twisting rocky river bed was lined with date palm trees and lush grasses.


The sun returned, as the clouds left their droplets in the mountains behind us (mostly). We made our way towards Merzouga, following a low, lush oasis crowded with date Palm trees. Hundreds of mud-walled houses hugged the edges of the oasis.


Temperatures rose steadily as we neared the desert…near 30 degrees Celsius versus 17’C as we crossed the Atlas. The sun set quickly, and the blue dusk was very brief. We spent the final hour of our drive in darkness, which is an interesting time along rural Moroccan roads. Darkness doesn’t slow down pedestrians, donkeys, carts, or bikes…none of which are lit until headlights cross them suddenly. And yet, Youssef never missed a beat and adeptly wove around all obstacles with barely a courteous tap on the horn.


We arrived at our hotel for the night…the Nomad Palace…a two story mud-walled structure with a generous courtyard. Our room was spacious and comfortably appointed. Certainly a far cry from the Palais Amani, but the desert charm of this place is definitely inviting. A group of local Berber performers drummed, chanted, and danced in the courtyard before dinner…and then led guests into the dining room.


Dinner was hearty and filling. Authentic enough for our tastes. A hearty vegetable noodle soup. A beef and vegetable tangine. Bread and fruit. A couple of sweet coffees made the perfect end to the meal. A friendly cat meowed quietly for scraps…which of course we couldn’t resist sharing.


After dinner, we sat outside to enjoy the warm desert breeze. Bats whizzed by our ears, snacking on desert moths and other morsels. The local musicians continued to entertain inside, but the throbbing drumbeat and rhythmic chants filled the courtyard.

We awoke refreshed, with a renewed sense of adventure. The challenges of yesterday’s trek through the medina had morphed into semi-romantic vignettes and humorous bumps in the road. Nevertheless, although Jeff was feeling defiantly daring, I was filled with an uncharacteristic trepidation…a desire to retreat behind the walls of the riad and hide. Not me at all…and that fear began to transform into resolve.


So, after another hearty Moroccan breakfast, we hired a guide through the riad…someone they trust and use often…and ventured back into the medina. Our guide was warm and helpful, and we were finally able to pass through the streets like a savvy local, without a single hassle or hustle. Money well spent.


As the Muslim holy day, Friday is notablely less hectic in the medina…except in the food markets. They are just as busy, and women shop for ingredients for the family meal. But along the other streets, many shops are shuttered…but certainly not all. There is still plenty to see…just fewer people to hustle around. And fewer donkeys carrying packs of goods down the tiny narrow streets.


Our guide was quite impressed how extensively we had traversed the city yesterday. Although we didn’t know it at the time, we had crossed (and re-crossed) most of the major routes…and many, many of the minor routes. We learned that there were some 9400-or-so streets in the medina!! Many merely tiny alleys ducking between or under the patchwork of buildings. We also learned that there are dozens and dozens (hundreds perhaps?) of mini-neighborhoods in the medina…each with a mosque, and a bakery, and a market of some sort, etc. each neighborhood also has a designated area (some long wall perhaps) with side by side rectangles painted in white. There are 33 political parties in Fes, and each party given one poster size square on the wall for election materials. Like everything else in the medina, this system seems basic and quaint and the very core of human democracy. Certainly doesn’t cost millions of dollars like our system! Not better or worse…just different.


Heavy wooden doors with metal studs often have two door knockers…one in the center and one in the upper left corner. This system is used in buildings with two residents. Although identical in shape, the knockers make two distinct sounds…one for each residence. The doors also typically have a five-fingered metal hinge signifying the Hand of Fatima…much like our horseshoes, this is a superstitious symbol for good luck. The five fingers also represent the five pillars of Islam.


Another benefit of a guide is that we were able to stop in front of the major mosque entrances and peek in…even taking a few pictures. Being non-Muslim, we were not able to go inside, but even from the many doorways, we could see the beauty and art deep inside. Colorful tiles ( we learned that green is the color of Allah), ornate plaster, tin lanterns with colored glass, and rugs…lots of big beautiful rugs. But we also got a glimpse at the people…men from all over the medina…seated to meditate, to read, or to pray. Heading away from the mosques, we noticed shoulder height beams across the streets leading into the mosques. This, we learned, is to keep donkeys and other pack animals away from the mosque entrances…it also forces and bowing before Allah near the mosque.


We were allowed to enter one active mosque, because it was also a school of some sort. The building’s courtyard was surrounded by rings of ornate details: ceramic tile in the lower third of the walls, (not to mention ALL of the floors); decorative plaster above that; and carved wood on the upper third. Simply beautiful. We caught a glimpse of the mihrab (niche pointed towards Mecca) and minbar (where Friday sermons are given by Imans).


Yes, we did see the tanneries. I cannot imagine doing that without a guide. We were handed sprigs of mint as we entered; useful for rubbing under the nose when the smells of the leather production get overwhelming. We got a perfect view above the multitude of pools where animal hides are bleached, colored, and dried. Pigeon poop and some other animal urine are both involved in the process. In spite of our guide, we did get a bit of a hard sell to make a purchase “or all of this will go away”. We held fast and did not purchase, and our guide easily got us back outside.


A stop at a restored building now housing a small museum featuring wood art. We loved the view from the roof…and a refreshing drink. Mine was hot mint tea; Jeff opted for a citrus soda.


We made our way back to the riad for a late afternoon lunch. Wonderful soup, sandwiches, and a fresh quiche with onions. Spent the rest of the daylight hours reading, waiting for our pre-dinner visit to the riad’s hammam.


Our hammam treatment was long and soothing. Scented salts in warm water to relax hands and feet. A nutty scrub on arms and calves. Scented oils, fragrant soaps…and an invigorating body scrub to thoroughly exfoliate head to toe. We drank a refreshing citron beverage. The heat was a bit overwhelming, and it was nice when cool air occasionally came in. Otherwise, the rooms were steamy, scented, and sound-less…except for the pouring of water. Afterwards, a cool relaxation room and some tea.


Time for dinner. A delightful pumpkin soup reminded us that it is in fact October! Slow cooked beef with artichoke and legumes. And a divine chocolate cake crumbled over juicy pomegranate seeds.


We turned in early after a long and wonderful day. What a difference a day makes.

The Medina of Fès assaults every sense around every turn. And frankly, it can be overwhelming and off-putting. But to dismiss it would be to overlook its history and meaning and the vibrancy of human life it houses.


We started our day with a fantastic breakfast on one of the rooftop terraces at our riad. Morning clouds began to break up as we ate. We dined on fresh fruit and yogurt. Bread and Moroccan pancakes with around seven toppings, including honey, herbed Moroccan goat cheese, and a few fruit spreads. Top this off with hot coffee and we were raring to go.


At the advice of our hostess, we decided to start our medina tour at the top of the hill and wind our way down to end at the riad later in the day. (The media lies within a bowl nestled between a couple of hills.) Armed with a crude map, we walked to the nearby carpark to hail a petit taxi. Taxis everywhere…nobody seemed interested in picking us up. We finally found a taxi and whisked us quickly up the hill, pointed us to our medina gate, and accepted our 15 MAD. We discover later that we were dropped off at the wrong gate…which made map orientation a challenge. 🙂


In we went. And what a scene we found!


The medina has areas that specialize in different products. In this case, we entered in a food market area…it was like a farmers market merged with a mosh pit. People were everywhere. Piles of colorful vegetables on burlap sacks. Fresh and dried herbs. And meat…lots of it…alive and dead…or soon to be dead. I even spotted a woman tightly clutching two pigeons by the wings, off to butcher them. This was a place for locals, and nobody seemed to notice that we existed.

The further down the media we ventured, however, the more desirable we became. Food stands turned to tiny shops filled with wood, leather, or metal items. All the classic things you would envision in an Arabic souk: finely crafted wooden boxes, colorful leather ottomans, ornate metal lamps. The catch was that if you paused for a minute to admire an object, a persistent shopkeeper would descend on you to start a negotiation. No window shopping here!


A very pleasant exception was an elderly man, seated on the floor of a tiny dark shop. He held a block of rough wood in his hand, and was using a foot-spun lathe to carve the block into tiny toy tops. He stopped and proudly showed us his boxes and other fine objects. He showed us clippings from magazines and foreign newspapers citing his artisanship. And he asked us to take his picture. To us, he was trying hard to be an ambassador in a world totally foreign to us. We bought a box…he threw in one of his tops. He smiled…and we walked on…further into the medina.


Back to our map. One of the challenges of starting at the wrong place on a map that is poorly detailed anyway is that you try to force streets and directions to correspond…you force fit reality on fiction. And you get lost. Which, frankly, is to be expected in the medina. No matter how hard you try, you will miss a turn, or lose sign of a colored route sign you were following. There are very few “landmarks” in the medina. There are three major mosques–one of which will hold 20,000 people (!!!)–and yet you barely notice them as you pass by, because they are simply doorways along narrow streets next to other doorways. There are no grand squares or manicured gardens around these mosques to make them stand out.


We happened upon a building being restored under some UNESCO world heritage program. We ventured in and discovered a hidden work of art being slowly transformed. This building seemed to have been used as a school until recently…chalkboards and rickety desks sat unused. Beautiful tile work and carved plaster doorways were being restored by diligent workers. Two stories above, two wood craftsmen toiled on scaffolding to strip, sand, and varnish intricate woodwork along the top of the interior courtyard. We climbed narrow stairs to the roof for an unexpected view of the medina around us. We cautiously paid the requested 20 MAD upon exiting…hopefully the money went where it was supposed to.


We finally made our way to the Blue Gate (which was our intended original starting point for the day), one of the famous gates in the medina wall. At this point, the sun was beginning to beat down more insistently, and we were beginning to feel the strain of the constant offers of “assistance,” or helpful kids telling us not to turn right or left: “there is nothing in that direction…only out”. So, we found our way to the Riad Fès, the top rated hotel within the medina. The riad is stunningly beautiful with multiple courtyards, terraces, and fountains. A true oasis. We had a couple of beers and contemplated how to possibly find our way back through the medina.


Fast forwarding a couple of hours, as the sun sunk lower, we had definitely had our fill of the medina for the day. Annoying helpers began to change their tone to more of belligerence. (One particularly aggressive “guide” implied that we had said we wanted him to help us…and badgered us for money.) Polite replies of “no merci” seemed to agitate people. Particularly as we neared the tanneries, an area of the medina that must be very popular since at every turn someone would walk up to us and tell us the direction to said tannery. It must work on somebody, but I can’t imagine who. At one point we exited the medina at the wrong gate (thinking we were on the north side only to learn from a kind German couple we were on the south side). Once again trying to hail a taxi to no avail. But we carried on…circling and re-tracing persistently…swatting off the helpers.


We finally prevailed finding our riad thanks to the age old way of navigation…using the setting sun to orient us to west vs east. Ah…back to our very own oasis.


A couple of beers later and a lovely breeze on the rooftop terrace, and we were laughing about the day. We re-visited the things we had seen for the first time in our lives. And we put some of the less-desirable things out of our minds. As the sun set, a call to prayer momentarily broke the otherwise calm evening.


Dinner at the riad was another fantastic reminder of the beautiful flavors of Morocco. A chilled local rosé from Volubulis with dinner, and then cappuccinos on the roof. A peaceful way to wrap up an eventful day.