Hiring a private car to get us to Fez was probably one of the smartest things we decided to do on this crazy holiday. Even just getting down to somewhere the car could pick us up was challenging, what with Dad barely able to walk, and us having six bags between us. Luckily someone from the hotel helped us, up until that point we were relaying the bags, while one of us helped Dad down the stairs and he moaned in pain. It was difficult to say the least.
Even when sitting with the car seat reclined back as far as he could, Dad was still uncomfortable and he was eager to get to our destination as soon as possible. This proved to be a problem given the great distance, as well as the fact we were having to stop fairly frequently. You see my friends, I was also having a rather uncomfortable experience, and was dealing with some mild food poisoning. We were a great pair the two of us.
Our driver was very patient and understanding, although he spoke very little English, he was eager to make Dad as comfortable as possible, and stopped whenever we asked. Once we arrived in Fez he was also a great help, and explained our situation to the police who were only letting local traffic through the road close to where we were staying. He got us as close as he could to the apartment and helped us with our bags before heading off.
The apartment was surprisingly huge, with even an extra bedroom, two bathrooms, a huge dining area and two large sitting areas. I counted the number of cushions, and I think you could comfortably sit 40 people no worries.
If the day hadn’t gone bad enough already, I was helping Mum clean the floors because she was having a reaction to the smell of the cleaning product they had used. The Moroccan way of mopping is to throw a bucket of water on the ground, then squeegee it outside. While we were standing outside in the courtyard I was stung by a bee. I couldn’t believe my luck. It was clearly more evidence I’d done something awful in a past life.
We were reluctant to call a doctor for Dad, although the lovely woman who managed our apartment had offered to arrange it for us, since there really was nothing that could be done at present. We were hoping it would get better on its own, and if not we were reluctant to book him in for treatment in Morocco. So Dad laid down and drank quite a bit of whisky for the pain, since traditional pain killers don’t work on him due to a problem with his liver, and we waited for any improvement.
Meanwhile Mum and I were the attentive nurses, listening to his every complaint. He really is a terrible patient. We were also doing grocery trips, and walking the half hour to the big shopping centre along the main road. Here I had a chance to look at clothes, and as I suspected they were much more modest than back at home. It is of course a Muslim country. For more simple grocery items there was a very small shop around the corner, and a shop selling Moroccan style doughnuts for 3 dirhams (45 cents) which Mum became addicted to. She was eating at least one a day, despite the stomach aches she gets from eating wheat.
After a few days Dad started to improve, although painfully slowly. By this I mean he was walking at so slow a pace it was causing me pain. He started by walking around the living room, then moved onto more adventurous walks such as up the street, then around the block and to a garden on the edge of the Medina.
The first big excursion with Dad was to the Borj Nord, an ancient fortress overlooking the city. A very solid building, certainly one I would feel safe in if a war was to break out, it now housed a weapons museum. On our final day we did a huge circuit through the Medina. Mum and I had done some smaller trips earlier down long alleyways through the souks and bought some souvenirs. My favourite was a small glass bottle that I used to keep my Sahara Desert sand in, which was the sand I had recovered from our shoes after our trip. This sand that smelled slightly of feet had become one of my most prized possessions.
There are actually two Medinas in Fez: Fez El Bali built in the 9th century and the “new town” Fez El Jdid built in the 13th century. The old Medina is considered to be the world’s largest urban car-free zone and one of the best remaining examples of a medieval city. But most importantly it is a labyrinth, and we got lost many, many times, which was not helped by the fact that some kids were trying to trick us and tell us the way ahead was blocked. This is a typical tactic to get a tip from tourists who then ask for directions, or a guide.
The Medina itself is like many we had seen, although on a much larger scale and with some very interesting stalls. There were huge sections devoted to each type of product, with lanes devoted to metal working (traditional style with people banging metal with hammers, very loud), leather, carpets, clothes, jewellery, art, grocery items and restaurants. There was also some lovely architecture, such as ornate gates, and stalls with pretty wood work.
After a 10 day stay in Fez and a much improved Dad, we were now off to our last stop on our tour of Morocco: Casablanca.
Anna Fay On Holiday 