Day 8 - Beautiful, lovely Fes (& a tannery visit)

Boarding the train from Casablanca to Fes

Our four-hour train ride from Casablanca to Fes was fairly uneventful. We got second-class tickets because even though first wasn't that expensive (maybe around $30 o/w), we love to travel/chat with the locals. Plus, in this case- first class didn't look that much better- a slightly larger seat, less chairs in one compartment...but still stained, old...dirty. :-) It's nothing like the difference you'll see on international airplanes, where you have to dejectedly shuffle (eyes downcast) past first class passengers strapping on their lavender-scented eye masks while you head back to the cramped steerage section. However, I should also mention that like many other countries, second class there has one disadvantage- it does not guarantee you an assigned seat, or any seat at all for that matter. Once the cars are full, people either stand in the aisles (like a subway car) or between cars (the far stinkier of the two options since they are near the restrooms). There is a way around having your car getting too crowded, thankfully-

And that is to look as cuckoo as possible, so that everyone who peeks in your cabin quickly skedaddles on to the next one (even though its even more filled with people and a goat).

After arriving in Fes, we caught two petit taxis over to Bab Ziat (the gate at the medina closest to our riad). Which I might add- was a very unpleasant situation. To start, the cab driver was an a-hole. He wanted four times the normal fare to take us to our destination (all the drivers collude together to gouge visitors so there's no way around this), and then once he grudgingly consented to 'only' three times the normal fare- glared, seethed and drove like a maniac. I'm embarrassed to admit that because he fit the media's representation of what an extremist Muslin looks like (bearded, long tunic, angry), I was scared. I knew I was stereotyping, but at the same time- he was very clearly trying to intimidate us. But the scary part was when we flew by most of the medina (why weren't we stopping?), and our driver suddenly flipped on the radio to a station airing a man screaming at the top of his lungs in Arabic and then BLASTED it at ear-splitting volume. And again, I can only speculate here on what he was saying, but I can guarantee that it was not idle chit chat about loving they neighbor, rainbows, puppies and unicorns. (Thankfully, Ryan has no preconceived notions about terrorists or visions of being shot in an empty field, and was blissfully oblivious to his anger toward us). I know in my gut the driver was trying to intimidate us. So once we saw the walls of the medina again, I nearly peed myself in relief and practically hugged the cabbie for not killing us. I am fairly certain he would have really liked that.

Fes is one of the Imperial Cities, and has the world's largest pedestrian-only area. Essentially, nearly all of the entire medina (old city surrounded by fortress walls) is traffic-free. And by traffic free- I am not including horses, mules and donkeys. Because there are hundreds of those carrying loads of stuff around.

A horse carrying skins over to a tannery

Fes is also famous for its labyrinthine of fascinating, non-sensical, mazes of dark, twisting alleys. Fascinating, mind boggling, terrifying (at times), but utterly amazing. With the looming mud-brick walls on both sides of you and cobble-stone streets filled with working donkeys (& dodging chickens at times)...it all felt like you were decades back in time.

A normal 'street' in Fes and a few very lost tourists (though Ryan clearly isn't worried). :-)

There is NO way  that 99% of visitors are able to find their riads once within the walls of the medina (detailed maps don't seem to exist). So like everyone else, we paid some young men (who are ever present, hoping for the opportunity to make some cash) to walk us to our riad.

The front door to Dar Fes Medina

In Morocco, a riad is a traditional home or palace (hidden behind walls) with an interior garden. Ours was splendid! A dar is a home (sans the courtyard/garden). Many dars function as riads as well. For the most part, they are B & Bs, as nearly all serve a formal, sit-down breakfast each day.

The mosaic tile-covered inner courtyard

The view from the courtyard looking up to the rooms

The windows as we wound our way up the stairs to our room

The view from our room looking back down

Once we unpacked, we had a guide walk us over to the Chouwara tanneries. On the way, we kept laughing about how there was NO way on Earth a single first time visitor would be able to navigate themselves around successfully. The streets are literally a mish mash of mazes like nothing you've ever seen. And yet, without cars, scooters (and even very few bikes), it's all so delightfully quiet, quaint and pleasant.

Every so often, we would pass a mosque, but usually hidden (we could only tell it was one from an open door with shoes near it and mats on the ground). This was a rare obvious one.

Public fountains were once local watering holes for the villagers. Nowadays, most appear to be  no longer functional (although we did see people still using some of them).

Since no cars or motorized vehicles are permitted within most of the city, donkeys still  perform the heavy lifting. :-) On Day 1 we snapped a pic of nearly every one we saw. By the end of trip we must have seen hundreds of them. I think our shoes had a thick layer of donkey dung on them, which is why they are currently soaking in our laundry sink. Germs, by the way...not a concern there. We had to let go of our normal Western fears and step in donkey dung, eat food covered with flies, stand in urine to pee. It's all good in the hood. We survived.

The Chouwara tanneries have remained unchanged since at least the 14th century (some say as early as the 11th). It is the largest in the world, and processes sheep, goat and some camel. Workers scramble over and around vats made out of mud that resemble a giant honeycomb. Once the animals are sheared or skinned, the leather is manually soaked in a combination of cow urine and bird feces to remove fat/hair and soften it for dyeing. After the leather is hung out to dry, they are dyed (with vegetable dyes) by workers trampling barefoot on the skins in the giants vats. [Side note: Our guide proudly told us all that "All the men down there are dyeing!" I immediately glanced at Ryan to see how that news went over, and since he did look rather stricken and pale, I clarified.] ;-)

Because the smell can be overpowering to some (trust me, it's memorable), visitors are given little sprigs of mint leaves to hold up to their nose. I didn't want to insult the workers by gasping for air and practically stuffing the mint leaves up my nostrils, so I didn't use mine. Honestly, I've smelled worse (I think chicken farms and half the subways in NYC smell almost as bad).

Once we got to the tannery area, we were escorted up a winding staircase (the workers jokingly referred to it as a Berber elevator) up to the viewing area of the tannery. I've read that the tanneries are like coops, so multiple companies share the same facilities, but each have their own viewing areas/shops. I will say that because I had no idea of what to expect (it's one of the few places I hadn't researched in advance and checked out on Google Image), I had a very powerful physical reaction once I laid eyes on the tannery down below. I recall audibly gasping and exclaiming something out loud. It was without a doubt, the most stunning sight I've seen in my entire life. More than the waterways of Venice, the pyramids of Egypt, the geisha of Japan... Honestly, it felt like I was suddenly transformed into a Biblical time period.

Please take a look for yourself and tell me what you think-

The owner of the shop gave Ryan a camel-skin camel doll. He whispered in my ear that he wanted to exchange it. I told him that we weren't at Target and that he'd better smile and keep playing with it if he wanted to come home with me that night. ;-)

I hope the pictures were able to capture the wonder of the tanneries. Even though it pains me to see animals slaughtered for their skin, I'm not comfortable judging people practicing something passed down from their fathers, grandfathers and great-grandfathers as a means of survival. I was told that people are basically born into the trade, but that it is still slowly (despite history proving otherwise) dying art- as it is neither easy, lucrative or desirable.

After the obligatory high-pressure sales pitch as we exited through the store afterward (my mother got a purse, my father and Rich got belts...not cheap btw, but Fes leather is widely regarded as the best in the world), we had our first meal in Morocco.

Some of the many colorful shoes in the shop (seen all over Morocco).

Ryan playing in at dinner with some of his leather shoe key ring souvenirs

A feast fit for a Moroccan King! Harira (not pictured, already in our bellies), pastilla (with beef, not pigeon), veggie couscous (for guess who?), spicy meatballs (a delicacy there) and skewers (chicken, not goat). 

Oink. Oink. Great food, and for only $6 per person. You can eat for $1...you can eat for $20. We did both.  Not a huge difference in taste when you order vegetable tanjine or vegetable couscous at every meal. ;-)

All in all (& despite the scary cab ride), one of the longest & most unforgettable days of my life.