One year off to travel with the boys

View Morocco Trip November 2009 in a larger map

Map showing itinerary: Fez 4 nights, Meknes 2 nights, Casablanca 2 nights, Marrakesh 5 nights, Moulay Idriss 1 night.

We just returned from our trip to Morocco. The train from Meknes and then a flight from Fez were delayed so it was a long day of travel. Fortunately, we were able to fit in a trip to the Roman ruins of Volubilis in the morning -- very close to Moulay Idriss where we spent the night.

Arriving around midnight at the nearby Holiday Inn in Salt, we slept soundly until 9 a.m. when we were awoken by the traffic outside our window. Salt is a suburban town of Girona and turns out to be a modern, clean and comfortable town with an excellent new hospital called Santa Cristina.

The hospital is the reason why we spent the night in Salt, needing to acquire the vaccinations for India. Strangely, the boys were delighted at the prospect of receiving shots since they remember lollipops usually follow. Fortunately they received one shot (typhoid) and, unusually, Ethan was the only one who cried a little. The cholera 'vaccination' is now given orally, but that still left Carmen with four shots (typhoid, Hep A, tetanus and polio) and I had three (no tetanus since an accident with amirror five years ago). We were also given malarial tablets for traveling to Goa, India (no other area in India requires malarials at this time). Hopefullythere won't be any strange side effects -- the last time I took them I had very strange dreams bordering on hallucinatory.

The trip to Morocco was very...interesting. It's unlike any place I've been before. When we first got out of the airport, I felt like we were in the Sudan with wide avenues and dustystreets, but Fez has more vegetation, particularly trees and although there were people hanging out in cafes and on the sides of the road, no one was dressed in white jelabayahs and turbans. During our stay, I only saw a couple of Fez hats where I expected nearly everyone to be wearing one.

Our plane was an hour late: as we walked across the tarmac to board our plane in Gerona, a dark wall of cloud and lightning was approaching slowly from the North, and lovely fair weather to the South. The stewards were hurrying everyone on board, but by the time the plane got to the runway, there was lightning all around us. Toby at this point was asking questions relentlessly regarding happens when a plane gets struck by lightning. My answer was that Grandad had been on a plane many times when it was struck by lightning, that planes were designed in such a way that they can handle it, and if they do get struck, they usually land soon after at the nearest airport to check for damage. Somehow this wasn't reassuring news to him. As we paused on the edge of the runway I said to him: "Let's see if the pilot goes for it, or chickens out". We sat there for twenty minutes and by then it was pitch black with intermittent flashes. It was clear we weren't going anywhere and promptly headed back to the terminal for an hour long wait.

Of course any delays on Ryan Air magnify thirst and hunger, so although we came on board fully stocked with snacks, we eventually had to each purchase a six Euro pizza (actually a sliver of toast with thin layer of cheese) and three Euro miniature bottles of water.

Since the plane was late, we arrived in Fez around 11 p.m. and few Grandes taxis were available. Having read the guide book, I knew to purchase a ticket inside the airport but on inquiring from an official was referred to a driver who promptly quoted a 50% markup on the posted rate. After 10 minutes of looking for another taxi, we gave in to the original driver -- who then ignored the officials at the airport exit, leaving me wondering if we were going to be taken somewhere else and robbed. Despite assurance that he knew our destination, he almost dropped us off in the wrong place half an hour later. Finally after much questioning of locals and driving around in circles, we found Riad Attarine -- on the southern edge of the Fez medina, and what else, but an oasis of tranquility in an ocean of turbulence…

Still hungry from our small pizza, we asked about food. The manager sent us with her houseboy to find a restaurant ("don't take them through the medina"), only to be sat down in a lavish restaurant ten minutes later with no "a la carte menu". The walk there in itself is an adventure. The outskirts of the medina has an apocalyptic feel, and we are constantly jumping over potholes, stepping off the sidewalk and then avoiding cars, motorbikes on the road, breathing in heavy diesel fumes. Young people are standing and sitting around all over the place -- why are they there and what are they doing? Later I understand this is very Moroccan, that there is nothing much to do but hang out and talk with friends. Also, like many places in the developing world, a large percentage of the population is under 20.

At the restaurant, not in the mood for a sixty euro fixed menu -- even though, ostensibly, it is the best food in Fez - we walked across the road to the medina and bought yoghurt, mandarins, water and cupcakes. At one point,
I was holding Ethan's hand, but turned around to find Carmen had disappeared -- had she been kidnapped, did she get lost? Some locals sitting around gestured to the inner areas of the medina, but I couldn't see her. Five minutes later, she walks back carrying a bag of groceries.

We slept very well and got up to the best breakfast we had the entire time we were in Morocco. There are flavours we haven't had before, like the local yoghurt, Moroccan pancakes and quince jam. There is also coffee, toast and a local roti-type bread.

At around 10, our guide to the medina appears and we saunter off to the south-eastern end of the medina. The guide keeps running ahead and then stopping to look back on us walking slowly with Ethan and Toby. He seems very impatient and anxious to cover lots of sites. The walk there is if anything, more apocalyptic then the previous night: the buildings are tattered and grey, black smoke pours out of various places (apparently these are the bakeries) and the smell even from a distance is quite noxious (I have a video of it which I shall try to post on YouTube). We enter the medina and are immediately immersed in the hullabuloo of donkey carts, men and women of different dresses shoving their way through the dark smoky alleyways, and all manner of foods sold either side. The initial feeling is that it's all surreal, especially when you see a camels head perched on a hook outside a butchers, chickens clucking, dates, spices, fruit, quite overwhelming. Our guide pushes forward again only to wait while we move slowly forward, trying to adjust to everything we are seeing, taking pictures while trying to make sure Ethan and Toby don't get run over by the push carts (balaat! -- watch out), people or mopeds surging in all directions.

Album One

Album Two

Oops! This one is of Spain (need to put this elsewhere)