Llywindatravels 2025

Getting used to Fez

We planned for a long time to stay a month in the Fez medina. Now we are here in a riad of our own.

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There are lots of surprises in the medina. No cars are allowed in most of the area, but donkeys and horses clop back and forth. The animals give you time to get out of the way, but the motorcycles are a menace.

We’ll start with a neighborhood landmark, Bab Rcif. There are 15 of these large gates around the city of Fez. Fortunately, each seems to be a landmark for taxi drivers, so we can now get home from anywhere by saying “Bab Rcif”!

4.2.16 our street — This is the bottom of the hill we walk up to get to our riad.

4.5.16 Medina walk-008 — Here’s the view from the upper end of our neighborhood.

There are a lot of different kinds of buildings, new and old. The walk takes us past homes, workshops, and other riads.

By the time I took these photos we had three days to walk around–it’s takes some time to start learning your way around the Fez medina. We started by taking a walk with a guide for a couple of hours, and got a sense of the main route home. Our guide, Khlafa Elasefar, was excellent. His English was very good, he understood our goals and only pressed us to do a little that we didn’t want to–and that was to spend more time at the historic sites. We saw a few of the sights during our orientation. “Agave silk” is beautiful. I didn’t know that agave fibers had such a luster. (I’m going back to buy a scarf.)

There are fragrant heaps of spices in the market, but for freshness and purity, closed jars are preferable. Our guide brought us here and we bought all we need for our stay.

We took in the mosque (no photos) and the Attarine Mederesa, formerly a school with 150 rooms for boarding students who came from far beyond Fez.

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We also visited the Sidi Moussa tanneries. The traditional tanneries of Fes are a big attraction, despite the smell they generate during hot weather and the colorful and possibly poisonous runoff. After some debate about whether to move the tanneries out of town, Fes seems determined to keep this tourist attraction and the Sidi Moussa tanneries have recently been renovated. Now the larger, better known Chaouwarra tanneries are under renovation and only the Sidi Moussa tannery is active. The benefit of a tour guide was finding this out before the hike to the closed tannery. It did not smell very much during our visit, but the weather is cool, it’s spring, not summer. We were given a sprig of mint to sniff, and that was pleasant, if not strictly necessary.

The white vats are the smelliest, where a mix of limestone and pigeon poop softens the skins and removes the hair. The dye vats are the brown ones. Huge cylindrical machines wash hides between phases. The finest skins take a month to be processed and dyed. The balconies overlooking the tannery all belong to merchants selling leather products. A young salesman said they could complete a custom leather jacket in three hours.

It was a lot to take in. What you don’t see here is our efforts to buy cups of coffee, fruits, vegetables and meat, water, salt. Even more difficult is to ask directions. Or to not ask directions, because sometimes people want to help you when you don’t want help. “I am not lost, thank you. I am taking a walk. Yes, walking. No, thank you.” Etc. People mean well, but it’s not very relaxing.

Museums and Sites in Rabat–mixed opportunities

Rabat is Morocco’s capital. It has strong competition from Casablanca for economic prominence and with Marrakesh for cultural prominence. I’d like to see the capital with museums that reflect the best of all periods of Moroccan history, but Rabat seems to have thrown in the towel on the museum front. I already mentioned my fruitless search for the traditional jewelry from the palace collection. (These pieces are from an exhibit in Marrakesh in 2014.) The traditional jewelry is extravagant and beautiful.

Next up was the archaeology museum in Rabat to see the Roman era bronzes recovered from the site of Volubilis, an ancient Roman city near Meknes. Anyone planning to visit the site tries to see the bronzes in the museum. No luck for us. The main gallery of material was closed, with only a few small items on view along with a reconstructed mosaic floor. Objects had been removed with only a “not on display” tag in their place. There was little information about objects apart from the name of the site. It was depressing.

Columns in the courtyard that needs a sheep for grass cutting.

Reconstructed mosaic floor from a villa at Volubilis.

Traditional Moroccan tilework, or zellij.

Not all museums have been abandoned in the capital, however. The Mohammed VI Foundation supports the new Museum of Contemporary Art in Rabat. It is a large building with extensive exhibits of art by Moroccan artists. Too bad some support couldn’t be shared with other museums.

This piece is at the contemporary art museum in Rabat. The tiled surface seems to refers to the traditional zellij tile work found in all historic Moroccan structures. Too bad museums where examples of traditional zellij might be seen are all closed. (There are museums in other cities in Morocco, just not in the capital.)

We went on to the ruins of Chellah, an ancient Roman city within what is now Rabat. There may have been earlier occupation by Carthaginians and Phoenicians, but the Roman settlement is what can be seen today. Here’s the Roman era:

The long occupation here is indicated by the reuse of older dirt full of pottery fragments by people making mud walls at a later time.

The ruins are maintained in a garden setting, and are home to a colony of storks. This is probably not good for conservation of the site, but it enhanced our visit.

I am pretty sure that Dr. Seuss has been here.

Chellah was used as a necropolis (burial area) during a much later period (Merinid) and the storks are as partial to the mosque for nesting as they are to other locations. There was a lot of clacking of beaks going on as male storks competed for attention.

The Merenid ruins revealed a interesting sights, including a piece of zellij similar to one we saw in the archaeological museum, and a man feeding the cats that are everywhere.

Zellij in situ

Man feeding 15 cats

There wasn’t a lot of information about the site or any archaeological research that has been done here. There are men willing to provide guide service that have to be eluded or turned away at the entrance. I do not believe they have any information about the site either, other than the dates of construction of the Roman and Merenid structures. There are a couple of signs if you read French or Arabic. They, too, focus on dates. Overall, the scene for ancient culture in Rabat is pretty limited. It’s a view that has endured from the 19th century that people benefit from being in association with ancient ruins, an osmosis-preferably-with-a-picnic as a way to absorb an appreciation of monumental works from the past. My impression is that Morocco has too many unoccupied palaces and too few well-endowed museums.

Rabat, Morocco

We arrived in Rabat, and got to our hotel in the medina with minimal confusion. The Rabat medina is more spacious than others we’ve seen in Essaouira, Agadir and Marrakesh. As in the others, no cars are allowed, though motorbikes race through. When we arrived at the walls of the medina, we called our hotel and our host Benoit emerged to meet us. It takes some getting used to that you can park on the street and a random person will make sure your car is ok, yet that seems to be the way it works. Our luggage was put in an overgrown garden cart. Off we went on foot to the Riad Dar Soufa. The door to the house is down an alley, and Benoit lamented that city workers had just dug up the entrance to the alley and refilled it hastily–he has no idea when they will return to finish the job.

The inside of the riad is nothing like the street.

Once we went for a walk, I found that there is a place in Rabat that provides a vision of Morocco corresponding to my imagination.

Here’s the ancient walled fortress, the Kasbah of the Oudayyas, still occupied, with a modern white city (the rest of Rabat) in the distance. Why this is my vision of Morocco, I don’t know, but I love this view. It’s my mental image of Morocco

The Rabat kasbah has a community atmosphere. Plenty of families still live in this very small neighborhood. It has not all been converted to hotels. The Cafe Maure is tucked into the far side of the kasbah in a small park called the Andalusian Gardens, where the wall loops out on the riverbank and you can sip tea or coffee and look across to the rest of the neighborhood, or down the estuary to the sea. It’s a bit tricky to find the entrance, you have to enter the gardens despite the low reviews on TripAdvisor….and then you see the entrance to the terrace and cafe.

I went to the Andalusian Garden expecting to see a display of traditional Moroccan jewelry that was part of the Palace museum, until it closed. Sadly, the exhibit at the gardens is now closed as well, and there is no information about what has become of the palace collections. The cafe was a consolation prize.

Back at Riad Dar Soufa we admired the elaborate restored woodwork, stone and carved plaster and mosaic tile that shows off Moroccan craftsmanship. We are in the zellij room, which refers to the detailed tile in a patterned mosaic along the walls. It is unusual to have so much preserved/restored. Older houses with such detail that fall into disrepair are not always repaired and the tile either falls down or is covered with paint and plaster. It’s not easy to find out about the history of Rabat. See my next post to find out more.

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The next day we rambled in the medina in the late afternoon when it was full of shoppers. I noticed more sellers of birds (and turtles!) than I’ve seen before in Morocco, and I was impressed by the colorful thread and embroidery sellers.

Poor turtles! I hope these are pets and not dinner.

More about Rabat to come!

El Jadida, and the “citerne portugais” of Orson Welles

We drove to El Jadida and discovered that along with the coastal beaches there is a stretch from about 10 km outside town into the city that is heavily industrial. Smokestacks from a power plant and phosphate plant are followed by a huge port facility, petroleum storage, LPG storage, one huge facility after another. None of the guidebooks mention this. It’s a bit otherworldly after driving through agricultural countryside for quite a while.

We went to El Jadida specifically to visit the old town, which is not the medina, but the Portugese walled city of the 1500s. Inside is a large cistern made famous by Orson Welles, who filmed a scene of Othello there. It’s very atmospheric.

The attendant here showed me a photo of Bruce Willis on her phone and asked what his name was. She said he had been there.

The Portugese area is quite small, though picturesque. After a cup of coffee on a terrace (we couldn’t find one with a view of the ocean), we headed back to Oualidia.

Taking a break in Oualidia

It’s easier to say as Wah-Lidia, a small beach town on a lagoon that offers a surfing school (we enjoyed watching the wet-suited group from a distance), oysters farmed locally that we ate every day,

and bird-watching. From our Airbnb home we have a great view over the lagoon to the ocean.

It was a comfortable beach house, a bit dated, but comfortable, obviously a family home. The kitchen had everything you could need for cooking.

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To say that this town is quiet in the off season is an understatement. There is a large campground full of RVs that seem to be European retirees, though we only see a few people strolling up and down. On Sunday afternoon, the park by the water was full of children playing and families chatting, but most days were quiet. There isn’t much beach right here, the shore is rocky, made of porous material that is like lava to walk on.

There was a “souk hebdomadaire,” a weekly market that set up in a field at the edge of town. It was a true a field of tents. It was even more hands-on than markets in Peru, with people killing and cleaning chickens in one section, selling spices in another, shoes and clothing along another aisle. (I had only a few photos from a distance, in deference to the number of people who don’t want their picture taken, then I accidentally erased the ones I had.) I bought a pair of bright pink leather slippers (babouche) stamped with camels on the toes. What could be better!

Jonathan bought lamb and used the couscousiere, couscous cooker, to make couscous with preserved lemons, olives and garbanzos. We should have invited the neighbors.

Bird-watching is excellent in Oualidia because of the large lagoons. We had great luck in an area that looked like some disaster had struck. There was a grand bridge/stairway that ended suddenly, with piles of discarded construction debris dumped along the road. In the middle of all this we saw a spoonbill, Kentish plovers, common plover, stilts, and even a Sardinian warbler. It was great.

White houses of Oualidia in the distance.

We explored the coast to the south. Once you leave the shore, you are faced with miles of rocky landscape. People farm and graze despite the rock that is everywhere.

Panorama

Walls use some rock

Farmland

Flowers among the rock

There are towns and monuments among the rocks. We stopped at the lighthouse at Cap Beddouza, and saw a few distinctive places. Some may be tombs of saints, Muslim holy men.

Cap Beddouza lighthouse

Jamaa Elkaria

A monument to failure, the elaborate lifeguard chair at an abandoned seaside development.

Along the coast

We’ve spent two days driving along the coast, first from Agadir to Essaouira, and then from Essaouira to Oualidia, our outpost for this week.

On the leg north from Agadir, we were surprised to see how much the landscape looked like versions of other places.

Black Mesa, AZ, moved to the edge of the Atlantic.

Northern California is an easier comparison.

We saw people surfing. A lighthouse

There are lots of coastal archaeological sites, too. Most are former living areas, with marine shell, pottery and stone tool fragments, and some walls of rock remaining. There’s a site in the foreground here, under our feet.

Beyond Essaouira, the argan trees disappear and the ground becomes rocky. Incredibly rocky. Walls of rock are constructed around fields, piles of rock (pirca) are built, and finally there is more rock in the fields than there is land. Sheep graze among the rocks, but planting looks impossible.

We reach the coast and down the hill we see the lagoon that is Oualidia.

We are here for a week. Aaaahhhhhh.

Essaouira, city of doors

We dodged a few raindrops and ducked into a restaurant for lunch just as it started to rain. We ended up on the third floor in a low-ceilinged room with several other groups of foreigners, French, Spanish and German. We had an especially nice chat with a German woman who was on a two week holiday (she chose Morocco because she wanted someplace close, and warm) while she is between jobs. On her return she moves from Frankfurt to Berlin. Her English was excellent (studied English Lit in college just because she likes it), as was her French.

There is lots of shopping in the medina here, and lots of old buildings.

Most of all, Essaouira has doors. Here are some of them.

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A hidden treasure in Essaouira

We arrived on the outskirts of Essaouira, fortunately with our phone GPS working. The surroundings are a bit intimidating.

There were ancient and modern hazards.

Fortunately, there were strategically posted signs.

We found the Domaine de l’Arganaraie, a delightful set of large houses around a common swimming pool and dining area, spacious and beautiful, a real oasis. We were able to have a fire in the fireplace both nights. This was our house–there was also a full kitchen and bathroom.

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We arrived late one day, had a delicious dinner (briouats, tagine, strawberries), built a fire in the fireplace and relaxed. We visited the Medina in Essaouira the next day and were very happy not to have to either go out OR cook in the evening. Fatima, the excellent cook produced squash soup, tagine of chicken, olives and potatos and a world class chocolate mousse. We sat by the fire again and didn’t regret the cool weather one bit. I was glad that it was pre-laid to start with just a match, too. The donkey cart towed our luggage back to the car when it was time to leave. Next time we’ll stay to have a swim.

A further note on Argan products

Cooperatives of woman formed to produce argan oil and related products can be found across southwest Morocco. On our drive from Agadir to Essaouira along the coast, we passed thousands of argan trees full of fruit, signs for cooperatives, and billboards referring to projects benefitting women. These all appear to be cooperatives to produce argan products. While cooperatives seem to help women, in the region we drove through there was no other visible employment of any kind. As we drove down the road, we passed stand after stand where vendors (men) held out bottles of argan oil and gestured to us. I subsequently read that many of these are probably adulterated products.

My conclusion is that women need assistance beyond forming a cooperative. Each cooperative needs to connect with markets outside the immediate area. There are a limited number of tourists who drive through this region, and roadside sales cannot help much economically. Once argan oil is produced, it has to reach markets where it has commercial value and can be sold as a fair trade product to ensure that some of the proceeds reach the producer communities. Otherwise, women’s cooperatives of argan oil may become a dead end, producing a luxury product that is stockpiled until it goes bad (rancid, becomes too old) or until there is so much unsold oil that the price collapses.

Buy fair trade argan oil–put it on everything.

Surprises at the end of the road

We arrived at Foum Assaka, the mouth of the Assaka River, to find a beach community under construction, not uncommon in Morocco. We threaded through the streets until the car could go no further, then parked in a pullout. This is the entrance to “Le Rayon Vert,” the Green Flash. I guess you can see it here as easily as in Key West.

If you visit with a group, you can stay in a Moroccan tent. 3.16.16sm We sat down to a delicious lunch of baked fish and vegetables. The eggplant were baked and the glazed with honey and spices. Delicious and in the middle of nowhere. The secret? Our friends called in advance.

This was not the only hidden surprise we visited in the Sidi Ifni area.

The next evening we had dinner at the “3-O” restaurant in Mirleft. After driving from Sidi Ifni in the dark, we stopped in front of a pharmacy, with its lurid fluorescent light washing out everything. We got out of the car and looked around, puzzled. Jean-Marie pointed to an alley, unlighted. Then we saw “3-O” painted on the wall, and an arrow. We walked down the alley in the dark to a door. Locked. It has a buzzer. It looks like we are being checked into prison. The door opens and we are in a gallery of contemporary Moroccan furniture. We walk between the rows of tables, mirrors, and sculpture to a doorway and we are then in, a nightclub. Really. Tables and chairs, mirrors, light fixtures, very chic decor. We continue along to a dining room where our table is ready. We meet our host, Didier, who runs the restaurant, the workshop, and the club. The feature of this restaurant, where we also called ahead, is oysters. These are straight from the oyster farms in Dakhla in the Western Sahara, fresh every Wednesday. We had all we could eat and they were delicious, crisp as the ocean. Morocco is full of wonderful secrets.

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