I love the smell of turpentine in the morning.

So we finally arrived in Morocco. You may want to grab a cup of coffee and get comfortable for this post- it's a long one. We are in Fez, and in a few days we will depart to Merzouga to ride camels in the desert. Our hotel is beautifully decorated with dark ornately carved wood, brass, mosaics and carved stucco. The staff is friendly and the food is of good quality.

Unfortunately I can't say the same of our guide. He's the guy in the red hat above. He repeatedly lost us in the maze of streets in the medina (market), and instead of telling us about the sights we were seeing, he just said "there it is" and kept walking. He also kept ordering us to take uninteresting pictures of random things. After the wonderful guides we had in Egypt, he was definitely a disappointment. On the upside, several of the places he brought us had managers who spoke very good English, so we were able to learn some interesting facts from them.

(Medersa, a school)

(Medersa).

(The Blue Gate)

(Carpet Co-op)

(Carpet co-op, woman at loom)
The high points of the day (see pictures above): We saw some buildings with impressive carvings and beautiful mosaics. We also visited a museum of antique furniture and jewelry, which had a lot of unusual items in it. There were huge 6 foot bronze statues of camels, curved ornate knives, beduin jewelry with beads as big as your fist, and tables covered with stone, ivory, bronze, shells, or mirrors. We visited a ceramics shop that fires their pottery in straw and mud kilns. We learned that 90% of people in Fez are craftsmen, and that the furniture for almost all of Morocco is made here. The best thing we saw was a carpet co-op that sold hand-made rugs. The owner was very entertaining, and he gave us a long lecture about how to tell the quality of wool, and how rugs are made and valued. We learned about the style of rugs made by different ethnic groups (Berber, Arab, and Jewish). They use all natural dyes, such as poppy, henna, indigo, etc and the rugs last for generations. Of course we had to get one. The picture of the woman by the loom shows the same pattern we purchased.


And now for the less-than-high points. Morocco is smelly. There, I said it. I feel bad about it, but after I describe the smell perhaps you will forgive me. Take a look at the pictures of the medina (the street above). The streets are very hot and narrow, and there is always too many people crowded into them. The two to three story buildings appear near collapse in many places, and the floors of most homes are dirt. The alleys between buildings are covered with reed mats to block out the sun (and this also blocks any fresh breeze). Add heavily laden donkey caravans, emaciated and filthy stray cats, carts piled with furniture, and street urchins. Along every alley garbage and rotten food is piled, mixed with manure from the donkeys. There is a stall- like shop every few feet, selling everything from eggs to Calvin Klein underwear. The most common products are apricots, dates, spices, meats, fish, silk, traditional clothing, and sweets. The fruit and spices are displayed piled in heaps, and all the meat is hung raw on butcher hooks right in the street as hungry cats drool. At one spice shop, the owner tries to shove what appear to be black peppercorns up my nose, since this a cure for migraines. There are dye vats for weavers, tanneries making leather, and thousands of carpenters carving or varnishing cedar furniture.

Now I have been a few places before this, and I am not bothered by most things in undeveloped countries. I'm not intimidated by street urchins, language barriers, heat, crowds, poverty, being lost, or political instability. But in the medina of Fez, the smell got me. There are too many components to decipher, but the main overtones are of feces, spice, rotten meat and fish, cedar, lye from tanneries, and turpentine. Even Scott was feeling nauseous by the end of the day. My suggestion: if you come to Fez, bring a lot of perfume. - Anna


(View over Fez)
As a side note, I wanted to add to Anna's blog. If you do decide to come to Morocco, make sure you get a guide. As horrible as our guide was, we would have been completely lost without him. The Medina here in Fez is a maze. If there was ever a good use for the word "warren" this would be it. The streets are more hallways than actual streets, some of which you have to actually duck to get through, and that is saying something for Anna and I. Many of these streets and hallways may lead you to ask yourself, or possibly your guide "Wait, is that a rabbit hole? Did a rabbit happen to dig a hole here and people just decided to move in?".
I feel as though we may have fallen down the rabbit hole as we came here. This place is far different from any other place we've been. The customs are far different and a couple of days are not nearly enough to sort them out. I'm not saying that is a bad thing, but it is definitely outside of our comfort zone.
I feel bad writing this, but I wanted to be honest with you. If you come to Morocco, hire a guide.
Speaking of comfort zone infringements I don't think Anna mentioned the "taxi" ride we took on the way back from the pottery shop. We had taken a taxi with our guide on the way there. I mean an actual taxi, with a sign on the roof and a meter in the car. The shop is on the outskirts of town, and when we were done there wasn't a taxi in sight and our guide looked confused. Without a word to us, he began walking back toward town. With a concerned look at each other, we began to follow. It was hot, and we were not looking to a half hour walk back to town.
About a quarter of a mile from the pottery shop, Abdul, our guide, waved at a car driving past. The driver beeped his horn and pulled over. Abdul waved at us to follow and began running toward the car. I looked at Anna and asked "Are we hitchhiking?". "I think so" she said. When we got to the car, Abdul and the driver were haggling. After a moment, Abdul said the man would take us back for 10 dirhams (about a $1.25. We got in the back of the car that Abdul later called a "big taxi". I'm a bit confused by that because the car was about the same size as the "small taxi" we took to get there.
He car was old, and the springs in the back seat were poking through. Shortly after we started driving, the driver pulled over again, jumped out of the car and ran across the road two where two men in uniforms were standing. I gave Anna a "What the hell?" look and asked Abdul what was happening. He said the taxi drivers sometimes bring the policemen who stand by the road some water when it's hot out.
The driver came back and we were under way again. When we got back in town, the driver pulled over again. This time in front of three people who looked like a mom, dad and son. There was more haggling, and the trio got into the car with us. The woman got in front with Avdul, and the two men got in back with us. All three were very large and the car became very cramped. To his credit, the man sitting next to Anna tried to give her some space. It wan't much, but it was a nice gesture. We got out of the car a short distance away, but I think it's safe to say that it was the most random, sketchy and bizarre taxi ride either of us have ever taken.
Let me rephrase what I said before. If you come to Morocco, hire a guide you can trust.

-Scott