Greetings!
Leaving the hectic city of Casablanca behind, I head by CTM bus for a 6.5 hour drive to Chefchouen, know as the Blue Pearl of Morocco. The bus heads back through Rabat and then onward. We make a bathroom/snack stop and I grab a delicious grilled meat with tomatoes and onions.

Two sweet women help me translate the Arabic to know when to be back at the when we make stops (they were grateful as I switched seats so that they could be together). Another stop was made in a town called Ouazzane. We drive through many farming areas with goat herders and donkey carts and people selling produce such as tomatoes and pumpkin like squash. Head through the Rif mountains and arrive around 8pm. Take a taxi to Bab Souk, where my Dar owner meets me and walks me to the place I am staying. Much safer than the cities, I can walk around after dark.

The city is beautiful in all of its colors of blue, even at night. The streets are cleaner and there is a faint smell of jasmine. Cats and kittens are everywhere. Some look sick, and I am afraid they don't look long for this world. But most people leave dishes of water outside their houses for them and food (although often it is bread, which I don't think is likely good for cats).

I wake up early the next morning (accidentally waking my Dar owner, as I didn't know he sleeps outside my room on a couch) and walk the mostly empty streets. The blues change hues with the light. Soon, the kids all start walking to school. A dog starts following me around and scares the cats. I finally have to walk him back and find his owner so he stops following me. Head back to my Dar for a delicious breakfast.

An omelette, fresh local goat cheese and olives, crepes with local honey and butter, and bread with jam and nutella butter. And of course, coffee and fresh squeezed orange juice. The selfie stick tourists start arriving in full force. Thursday is market day and Bab Souk is busy. People are very against photos, so I don't take many.

I run in to the woman from bus, who greets me warmly and has now joined her husband and son. I find a painter who invites me in and lets me watch him paint. In the afternoon, I walk to the Old Spanish Mosque and sit with many others, awaiting the sunset. Along the way, someone picked fresh, delicious figs from a nearby tree and shared them with me. It is a great view of the city and the sunset did not disappoint!

Wander to the main town plaza and listen to a bit of music before heading to a new restaurant that opened two weeks ago and have delicious kefta tangine. Little meatballs with spices swim in a tomato sauce with an egg soft boiled in the sauce, served piping hot with fresh bread. It may be my new favorite meal.

The next morning is Friday, the religious day. I am also excited, as I was told by Jalal in Casablanca that Friday is for couscous. You can get it any day in restaurants, but Fridays are when people make large batches in their homes for sharing after prayer. And supposedly, you need to try couscous from someone's house, not in a restaurant. I had anxiously been counting the days down to Couscous Friday! But I had no leads on how to get an invite to someone's house for couscous. After another delicious breakfast, I head back out to wander. I roam from near the top of the town, down to the bottom around the commercial district full of clothes for locals.

There are cute little town squares to stop in, each with their own decorated tile spot for people to get water. I head back around the kasbah, where I had spoken to a Berber from the desert that sold gems, rocks, and minerals. I watch his shop for him as he goes for prayer and we sit and chat for quite a while. And score! He invites me for couscous, as he is friendly with many of the neighbors and a woman sends over a heaping plate when it has is done.

It is delicious cooked with well seasoned broth and topped with a bit of meat, potato, carrot, cabbage, and a zucchini like vegetable. We share the huge plate of couscous using a makeshift table on top of the rocks, gems and minerals. Unlike instant, fast cooked couscous, the couscous here is slowly steamed on top of the ingredients while occasionally hand rolled in olive oil to keep it from sticking. A teenager pops in to the shop and sheepishly joins us for the woman's couscous. Apparently, his mom also made couscous, but he likes the neighbor lady's better. Ha! With my Friday goal achieved, I wander around more.

Had thought of going to nearby hikes and Akchour waterfalls by shared taxi, but I heard it has been so dry lately that it was not as impressive right now. So instead, I end up playing with a mom cat who purrs with chin rubs and her two kittens at a rug shop. I head to a restaurant for lamb and prune tangine for dinner and head back to my Dar, where the owner is always there to greet me with a big smile and see if I need anything like coffee or mint tea.
In the morning, I pack my backpack and have a quick breakfast before heading for the bus. I walk instead if taxi, as it is downhill and I need to get more cash as the next few accommodations only accept cash and there is a withdrawal limit. It is my first cloudy day of the trip, but only about three rain drops, so luck out. Catch the bus for 4 hour 45 minute bus ride (which included a rest stop at a strange gas station/butcher and grill/cafe/random peacocks roaming about and a sad monkey in a cage on a leash). This bus is mostly tourists, with a few local Moroccans (as opposed to the Casablanca to Chefchouen bus that had the opposite ratio of locals to tourists). We pass more farm land, grape yards, and a large lake. We stop at a more touristy place for snacks/bathroom break that had a sad, lone Barbary macaque in a cage and random peacocks roaming around. Arriving in Fes is quite a change. It is a huge city. Took a taxi to my Dar (he ripped me off a bit as he told me 20 dirham for a shared taxi and then said he had said 30 once we arrive... which I know was a lie (I confirmed 20 dirham twice before getting in) and I told him "if you REALLY need the extra 10 dirham, even though you told me 20" which he did not seem to like. Whatever, it's a dollar, but I don't like being lied to. My Dar came and collected me and it is, like most places I have stayed, absolutely spotless and a beautiful display of the local architecture and decor. Wood ceilings, beautiful metal lamps, colorful tile work and plasters, and copper bathroom fixtures.

The location is also great, as it is close to the Blue Gate and the Batha Poste entrance of the Medina. I wander the streets, and surprising only really get slightly panic lost once (there are reportedly over 9,000 streets in the medina). It helps that my accommodation is near the entrance that is at the highest point, so when in doubt, "head uphill" on one of the main streets. It is chaotic and amazing.

I was nervous for Fes as I had heard horror stories that women shouldn't travel alone here and kids constantly hassle you and give you wrong directions and get you lost. It is a little unnerving walking through this narrow, single wide, unlit alleys. But I just try to appear confident and walk close to women if I get nervous. But everyone I met was kind and helpful, offering all types of information about the history and area and never asking for money. The shop owners kid around, but are not pushy. "Come have a look! Where are you from?" I laugh and say I will come look if they can guess where I was born. "China? Japan? Korea? Uh, Mexico? Morocco? I don't know."

Ha! I was going to save most of the sightseeing for the next day, but run into a guy from Australia that imports goods and he is going to the Chouara Tannery to pick up a leather jacket to mail so he takes me with him. They let me look over these expansive vats, and tell me all about the process. Square vats of white and greys that have pigeon poop that people collect and sell to them to break down the leather with its ammonia. And then various colors of dye. It is a bit stinky, but really beautiful.

They show me the shop, but don't push me to buy anything or charge me an entrance fee like I had heard. Not sure if they are just worn out by the end of the day, or the stories I heard were incorrect. I was told there was a widowed women coop owned by the government that was worth checking out the next day, as it was closed for the day. But I happened to wander past it and they invited me in. Inside was a huge, old palace with many rooms for his four wives. They let me up on the roof for a spectacular view. Even invited me to stay for dinner, but I didn't want to impose.

The next morning, I get up early and watch the sun rise over Fes. I start wandering when most things are closed and the streets and alleyways are far less busy. As things open, it is magical. Shop owners come and open the unassuming wooden doors and all kinds of treasures are behind the doors. Lamps, antiques, jewelry, rugs... and some souvenir type junk from China.

I visit Al-Attarine Madrasa when it opens and it is beautiful! Built in 1325, the tile work, plaster, and wood work is amazing. There is a fountain in the center courtyard and I have it all to myself.

They gesture that I should go upstairs which was the living quarters of the students, and just let me explore everything on my own. Beautiful dark wood with sunlight streaming in from openings in the roof and big metal hanging lamps set the mood.

There was also a great view of the nearby green tiled rooftops and mosque. Then some guy came and set up a tripod and to do some kind of "model-esque" catwalk photo shoot of himself posing, and it ruined the mood. I walked out in to the spice and perfume market and wander some more.

I had no plans other than to wander, making way on the narrow streets for horses, donkeys, carts, motorbikes and people. This behavior of not having any destination appears concerning, as people keep trying to be helpful by taking me back to see the tannery.

It is easier than arguing and trying to explain with their limited English and my almost non-existent Arabic and French that I have already been multiple times and I know where it is. Luckily, I really like the tannery and it looks different in the different times of day. Everyone at the tannery laughs on each arrival, especially by my third visit. But I get mint tea and a chat each time, with no pressure to buy or give any one any money.

They also let me in to my own little viewing area deck (as well as threatening me that if I came back a fourth time in one day, they were putting me to work in the vats). As I am wandering, people keep inviting me into this unassuming doors, behind which are these ornate, multi-storied family houses with terrace views over the medina. My legs and calves are burning from all this hill and stair climbing. Wandering around in Fes really is a treat. I find dried apricots, mishmish, one of my few arabic words. I buy a kilogram for my long bus journey and atlas mountain adventure. I try a chicken pastille for dinner, a pastry of sweet with cinnamon on top and savory. I sit in the square outside a kasbah and enjoy sunset with all the local neighbors, thousands of birds coming out at sunset that live in the old wall behind us (starlings I think) and watching the kids play soccer and boys teaching their sisters how to ride a bicycle. Back to my dar, I have my first uncomfortable experience as the night employee seems too touchy for me and keeps trying to hold my hand and touch my face and wants to know what room I am staying in and trying to come to Meknes with me the next day. I end up slapping his hand away from me and smile and show him the next will be a closed fist. He leaves me alone and I quickly go upstairs and double lock the door, putting my big backpack in front of the door so I will hear if it gets opened (there is an update to this story in the email from Marrakesh).
The next morning, I wait until the night employee has gone and the nice owner is back. Other than the aggressive hotel employee, I really enjoyed Fes and wish I had more time here. I have breakfast and head to the train station, catching a taxi for only 10 dirham (someone tried to charge me 50 and I laughed). The train to Meknes only takes about 35 minutes and I walk to the CTM bus station. They agree to hold my big backpack until my 10:45 pm bus for only 5 dirham. I set out to visit Volubilis, a partially excavated Berber city from the 3rd Century BC and old Roman ruins. I consider the cheap options of getting there as it is about an hour away (city bus and shared taxi or shared taxi and then petite taxi), but decide against the time it can sometimes take for shared taxis to get full to leave. I find a private taxi driver that speaks great English. He can't take me, but finds a nice older man to take me there and wait for me for a few hours to wander and bring me back and drop me in the old medina in Meknes for 250 dirham (about $25).

He also gives me all kinds of info and tips on what to see when I get there, saving me from getting a guide. Volubilis (so hard for me to pronounce for some reason, but the Arabic version of Walili rolls off my tongue way easier) is beautiful with preserved tiles, arches, and columns, surrounded by farmland. It is hot at around 90 degrees, but well worth several hours and the money.

It is a lot bigger than I thought, with many sections to explore. I probably could have maybe spent another hour or two there. I spend the rest of the afternoon wandering Meknes and the covered market with butchers and shops full of spices and olives and preserved lemons. Most everyone seems super nice, inviting you to take photos and ask questions, without asking for money or anything.

I watch the special art of Meknes with silver wire designs hammered in to black metal. I spend the late afternoon at a cafe in Lahdim Square into night, awaiting my bus. The square is somewhat empty during the day, but at night, it fills up with vendors and people and comes alive. Food, clothes, sunglasses, watches, music, kids playing, little motorized cars driven by kids zipping around the square, cotton candy, balloons, everything is bustling.

But it feels pretty safe, even at night. I needed a little help catching a taxi, but my trick is to look for the guys in the neon vests who handle street parking. They seem to always be helpful and friendly, and speak a bit of English. One helps me get to the right spot to catch a petite taxi, and I can see him watching from across the street and traffic circle, and eventually after I am waiting for a little bit, he flags one down and sends him over to come pick me up. And, it was the first taxi driver who uses a meter, and without me even asking it was already turned on!) back to the CTM station and now await the bus for my kasbah adventure. Not looking forward to an overnight bus with a wait and change of buses at 4am in some small town of Errachidea. Not sure of phone/internet for the next four days until I reach Marrakesh.
Love,
Betsy