Fescapades

Our train journey from Fes took us east through the yellow foothills of the Atlas mountain range to Fes, the former Moroccan capital city best known for its World Heritage-designated medina. After disembarking, we found our way through a processional line composed of eager hawkers and reuniting relatives to end up at a not-exactly-organized cab stand. After a few minutes of animated discussion, we finally found a petite taxi driver willing to turn on the meter for the roughly 10-minute drive to the hotel in Fes al Bali, the oldest enclave of the city.

Driving by the city walls of the old medina, our excitement mounted. Within a few minutes, we passed through one of the medina’s large sandstone outer arches into a small alleyway leading to our accommodations at Le Riad Maison Bleu. Built around a water feature in the main courtyard, riads are large homes that have been transformed into small, beautiful guesthouses. We were thrilled to have secured a reservation at an upscale and authentic riad in the city where this type of lodging originated.

Kaberi promptly fell in love with Le Riad Maison Bleu and our private suite overlooking a small fountain. Set away from the riad’s main courtyard which curled around a lap pool, our room had 25 foot high ceilings, a stained glass French door which opened onto the courtyard, and opulent lounge seating areas piled high with luxuriously-covered pillows. Best of all, we found a plate of Moroccan sweets awaiting our arrival (with the macaroons serving as our clear favorite). We immediately explored the rest of the riad, with its many narrow, hidden stairwells, mosaic tiled floors and tiered terraces providing stunning aerial views of the old medina.

The medina beckoned us and we made our way into a labyrinth of small streets and alleys. A sea of vendors loudly implored us to stop and look at their wares with a zeal that exhausted us. After navigating the complicated maze that took us to the main gate, we arrived at Restaurant Kasabah, a centrally located spot with second and third floor tables providing a clear view of the various minaret towers and mosque domes surrounding us. As we feasted on kabobs and kibbeh, we decided to hire a guide to lead us through the medina the next day, partly to navigate the streets and partly to keep the hawkers at bay.

In the evening, taking the hotel’s recommendation, we were driven to an excessively-ornate Moroccan building geared to dinner performances for French tour groups. We resigned ourselves to an expensive night of mediocre food and cheesy entertainment (think balding, pasty-white middle-aged French men being led onstage to try their hand at belly dancing) that did little to improve Vik’s opinion of the French. Once we returned to the riad, we had a stern conversation with the night manager responsible for suggesting the dinner venue and for hiring us a guide for the following day. We took the opportunity to make it absolutely clear that we were not under any circumstances interested in a typical tourist tour dominated by visits to carpet and ceramics stores (where a guide would invariably) get a kick-back. After receiving assurances that he understood us, we turned in for the night.