Sippin' Coffee in Fes

i got into Fes at 5am it was dark cold and raining, it was absolutely miserable out and i had no clue where i was in relation to the city. I pulled my bag out from under the bus and scurried under an over hang where i noticed the rest of the disembarking passengers were. i took a deep breath and sighed, i looked at the rain and thought, what to do? i watched the rain fall for a few minutes took notice to how wet my jacket was for only being out side for such a short moment, i looked at my pack and that was wet too, i continued to think, what to do as now i began to shiver.
i noticed across the way there was a large building with a light on. the name was in french and i hand no idea of what it meant. i soon I noticed people with bags running towards another far away building in the rain, others were being dropped off near by in taxis. was it the bus station, i wasn't sure but i picked up my bag and made a run for it. upon entering i noticed all the seats to wait were full and it was not a bus station but a train station. i saw a few people sitting on the floor and i took my spot, now even more wet, and still cold, i sat on the tile floor. Although i knew it would not be approved of, i took out my sleeping bag anyway, unzipped it and covered my self, my camera bag and my pack and drifted off to a much needed 2 hour sleep.

I was woken by a guard who was peaking french, i replayed "no pali vu france" and in English he quickly told me "you can't sleep here, where are you going" he asked. i knew there was a 6:50am train to Marrakesh and glancing at the clock i saw it was 7am, "marrakesh" i said, "you just missed it" the guard replied "but there is 1 in a hour" he told me, as i pretended to look confused, "well i guess i'll head back to my hotel," i said as i packed up my sleeping bag and slowly made my way out the door. I was intending to stay in Fes the whole time but was happy to dodge the unpleasant conversation with a disgruntled guard for sleeping on the floor.

I hopped a cab to Ba bou Jaulad, it was my first meter taxi i have had on this whole trip and god i was it bliss to not have to bargain for a ride. i arrived around 730am and it was still dark and cold but the rain has reduced to a drizzle and i was thankful for that. I wondered down the narrow streets of Fes which very much reminded me of the ones of varranasi, minus the cows, shit, and poverty of course. There were new smells, dark allies, wet cobbled roads, not wide enough for a car, but big enough for a donkey to push through with a small cart. My old worn out shoes were soaked and i slowly wondered through the semi empty streets.

Where sight of narrow streets and covered pathways reminders me of india, the chill, the smell of wood fires burning, those brought me staring back to New Zealand, being blessed with many cold autum/winter days in NZ my mind began to wonder as i started to think of the snowy peaks and warm fires. I snapped back into reality and continued on squishing through the old city of Fes in my soggy shoes. Nearly an hour later i could feel the weight of my pack on my shoulders and hips, slightly frustrated that i speak neither french nor arabic i realised i was helplessly lost and no set of directions in a foreign language was going to help me. i made my way to an exit of the old city and payed yet another meter taxi to drop me back off at where i had started.

The rain began to pick up slowly as i reentered at Ba Bau Jelad for a second time. it's time likes these that you miss the people and places you love and are familiar with. stores and hotel doors are now beginning to open and i dropped my bag in one of the first that i looked at, being cheaper than Marrakesh, i was happy to settle and attempt to dry out for a bit.

i was still cold but at this point i was hungry as well and had to find some food. i began to wonder down the same narrow street i was on an hour ago and sat down at cafe which caught my nose, dark roasted coffee drew me in, and the struggles of the early morning began to fade. After a 12hr bus ride that chilled me to the bone and my morning hotel hunt that coffee was a perfect way to start. Now smiling again, I followed the coffee with a lamb and egg tajine, dripping with fat i soaked it all up with a loaf of fresh bread, feeling overly guilty about the year i just took off my life (due to the saturated fat i just drank) my eyes began to wander and watch the cafes across the way as they were absolutely filled. not offering food, many customers were purchasing bread, friend dough rings, and a roti-like snack from other vendors and just sitting down for a single glass of mint tea or a cup of coffee. they sat for hours just watching people pass by, some in groups occasionally talking and some alone just content to be there.

i ate my breakfast and went for a walk, an hour later returning to the same street wondering past the same cafe patrons, as they may have watched me eat breakfast across the way, they may also have watched me wonder past, just watching life drift past, i thought how odd.

Fes really didn't take to me, and maybe it was because i arrived 2 days after the largest Holiday of the year, a holiday which actually lasts a week, where every family slaughters a sheep or a goat, in memory of Abraham who set to the mountain top to kill his son (a sheep was slaughtered instead) so once a year this biblical tale is reenacted. When i think about it my most interesting time in Fes was wondering down the empty streets alone at 730am the morning i arrived. wondering through shoulder width streets, walking past stacks and stacks of folded sheep skins left on the side of the road from the day before, i walked past a Fes city garbage truck which was a donkey with an enormous basket tied to it's back. simply walking the empty streets. i was helplessly lost, slightly bothered but couldn't help but be fascinated with this new city i was forced to explore so early in the morning.

As the city began to wake and the shops open up i struggled to find the charm, the narrow streets became cluttered with people, the old wooden doors decorated in brass studs were covered in cheap clothing, and touristy nick knacks, the serenity was lost. i found my self intentionally getting lost in hopes to find a more unique Fes and never did. of course more streets than not are only traveled by locals, tourists stick to the main paths, but for some reason i was just not into it.
Two full days of Fes and i was done, if i had a guide, a mentor, a local to show me the ins and outs maybe i would have stayed longer but as for this trip i felt like it was time to move on. the next morning, 2 hours before i had to leave i strolled down that same narrow street one more time to grab a bite to eat. i observed the locals the past 2 days and was interested in what they have been snacking on, looking to save a buck or two i followed suit and lined up at a popular morning food stand. i ordered some porous bread backed in a large cast iron skillet almost like a pancake along with a flaky roti style bread, all drizzled with honey.
my breakfast was wrapped in deli paper and i carried it to the closest coffee shop. sipping a black coffee followed by a big glass of hot mint tea, morning traffic passed me by, the milk man delivering 5 gallon seal drums wheeled by me on a bicycle as a donkey loaded with 10+ propane tanks all strapped to it's back trotted past as well. it was cool morning and before the sun came up i could see my breath. i gripped my coffee tight in my bare hand to warm it up as i nestled my back against my seat and rested my head on the wall. more people began to pass and an hour later with an empty glass i realised why people come to these cafes for a simple morning coffee and stay for an afternoon tea. It is simply joying a timeless day, with nothing better to do, why not enjoy it in the sun. as many people back home camp out on the couch and watch the "tube," i realized is much the same. the morning passed quickly as i realised i had 20min. to catch my bus to Chefcheaoun, i better get going.

Morocco update

photo link: http://picasaweb.google.com/vaccaro.marc2424/MarcvaccaroMorocco#

Morocco:
My flight from Cairo was direct into Casablanca, I had heard from other travelers that Casablanca was not all that interesting, the industrial and financial capital of Morocco and was easily forgettable. I took their advice and when arriving at 1am i took a seat in the lobby and waiting out the night until the 6am train would take me away to Marrakesh. A bit tired from the flight, definitely feeling the affects of sleeping on a metal airport/train station chair, i boarded my 5hr train with hopes a comfortable soft seat, a bit of solitude, and a window to look out. I got the soft seat, although it was in a cabin with two others and the window to look out was blazing hot as the sun was baking my side of the train car. I regret not taking out my camera as I cruised ancient homes placed which seemed to me in the middle of know where, the soil was red and full of rocks but it was being farmed none the less. The paddocks for grazing animals were formed not by fences or rock walls but by rows of dense green cactus all linked together. the hills and land rolled on, the sky was blue, and the sun was hot. I dosed off to sleep and woke hungry, i was in Marrakesh.

Marrakesh: The large square located in the old city is no doubt the main attraction of the city. As all major Moroccan cities, there is a modern section filled with your fast food, banks, gas stations, modern hotels, and shopping malls, but the Cities that draw the tourist crowds also have a touch of the past still living in them. For Marrakesh it's the old Souk and the Giant Square which comes to life every day around 10am and goes to sleep around midnight. Snake charmers, fortune tellers, story tellers, gypsies, beggars, scatter them selves across this large public space, but people don't come for that, although it does add ambiance and excitement. they come come for the shopping and the food. With small narrow passage ways branching off from the square i got lost here for hours wandering in and out, looking at spices, fabrics, weird looking shoes, amongs tons of other touristy items. No matter how far i strayed from the center, i was always pulled back because around 5pm the Assembly of an enormous out side restaurant was the high light for me.

Teradaount: a small town located about 4 hours south west of Marrakesh was a interesting stop, I had an inflated bus ticket price due to the national holiday, the bus i was on stopped in another city 1 hour from the my location and i was forced to get a shared taxi from there for the remainder of my trip, amazingly confusing but full of culture and surprises, one surprise being a sheep jumping out of the trunk of the shared taxi when the door was opened to put bags in... didn´t expect that. The city was small but i stayed with a family in their home and it was very peaceful and a wonderful way to experience real culture and see the city through a locals eyes.

Marrakesh to Merzouga: I was forced to pay for a tour to get to Merzouga due to the inflated bus prices and the lack of buses to the area i wanted to go. instead i purchased an over priced tour but got the reap the benefits of spending a bit more money and traveled in comfort in a van with other travelers, got my own bedroom in a nice hotel with a fantastic shower and big bed. We stopped a couple of sights that i would have never seen on a bus, overall i was happy i took the tour. On the day of the big slaughter where all Moroccans (Muslims) kill a sheep my bus passed by home after home where you could see this happening in plain view of the public. It is a holy act and is not something they are embarrassed of and i got to see it all. i´m not a blood thirsty killer but i think it was important to see and experience where your food comes from. if your willing to eat meat you should be accepting of how it gets on your plate. It was another experience i would have never had, had i booked a simple bus ticket.
the tour continued on to Merzouga where we exited our van and were rushed onto Camels, i named mine Carl and the small group headed out into the Sahara desert. I had purchased a beer a day back so i cracked it open and sipped my beer while sitting camel back in the Sahara, i passed it to my fellow travelers and all took in the views while slowly pushing through the desert. the experience was NOT comfortable, camels and the male anatomy don´t mix so well, but overall it was fantastic and wouldn´t take it back for anything. camping below a 15oft dune was amazing and watching the stars drift past me at night was unforgettable. highly recommended.

Fes: The streets, the chaos, the coffee shops were all fun, but over all i was not too impressed with the old city, it might be that i compared it to Marrakesh or the insanity of Varanasi India which it reminds me of, but i enjoyed two days here and called it quits.
Chefchaouen: the blue city, set in the hills of the Rif mountains are unbelievably gorgeous, the homes are all painted in blue, the streets narrow, but built on the hill the view of the city changes as you climb higher or lower. Heading out on the neighboring hills you can look back and see the city from a far and it almost looks like scattered pieces of a mosaic with blues and reds smashed together creating a collage which makes up the city. A mountain town with plenty of water a major crop harvested is weed, and hash is pushed on you relentlessly, in fact i would say it is absolutely impossible NOT to be offered hash 10 to 15 times a day if you walked in and out of the city. ¨how is your day? where are you from? so you need anything?¨ ¨NO, i don´t NEED ANYTHING¨ ¨are you sure, like you don´t need hash¨ ¨NOPE I DON´T NEED HASH¨ ¨are you sure you don´t need any, are you sure¨ and that is how your day is spent if you decide to stay in the city walls. I climbed out side, sat in the country side and took a nap in a field, one day, peaceful and quite. Minus the minor nuisance of the hash pushers, this city is pure gold and was one of my favorites.

Tangier: On arrival i thought that the place held little to no charm, but the deeper i wondered the more i found and was happily content with killing a couple of days here. Coffee shops, the old city, narrow streets, fried fish dishes, a smashed butter bean soup with a healthy scoop of real cold press olive oil, roasted chicken tossed in a special Moroccan seasoning, and some Internet is what i got involved with here. Not my favorite and in fact if i wasn´t killing time before entering Spain (to reduce the amount of euro i was about to spend) i could have only spent a day here, but not upset i spent .
Morocco was a good place to come, one i can see my self coming back to, the cuisine is simple but Delicious, tajines (braised meat dishes normally) is soul warming food, simple but good. I caught the ferry across the straight of Gibraltar and headed to Malaga Spain.

Morocco Email

Yet another Muslim country passes me bye and i havn´t realized how far from home i really am until i crossed the straight of Gibraltar on my two hour ferry, picked up my back pack and wondered into the Spanish Ferry Port. I looked for some food right away and noticed a deli of sorts, it hit me right away, i´m in Spain and there is chorizo, serrano and iberico ham to be eaten, being starved of pork in the Muslim countries i was quite excited. I quickly headed into to buy my self a sandwich and remembered how poor my Spanish skills really are, ¨una sandwich pequeno, con jamon y queso por favor¨ (one small sandwich with ham and cheese please), and then the questions came back in spanish which made little to no sense at all to me, since i didn´t even order the ¨sandwich¨in Spanish and just said ¨sandwich,¨ but i got my food and was happily on my way to the bus station to catch the next one out to the city of Malaga. Another interesting conversations in extremely poor Spanish and I had purchased my ticket and sat waiting for my bus. I looked up and noticed the decorations, i took the earphones out and listened to the music, it´s Christmas time!!! A holiday which doens´t exist in the countries i most recently traveled, Christmas was in my face and i laughed thinking about how different the two worlds are simply separated by a narrow strip of sea.

18 days in Morocco was enough for me, it is a country i can see my self returning to simply because of its close location to Europe and the flavors and food which i have enjoyed. My journey started in Marrakesh and was forced to take a rather unusual rout due to a major festival which grabs a hold of this country and nearly brings it to a crippling halt. In honor of a biblical story where Abraham slaughters a sheep in sacrifice to God (instead of his son), every Moroccan (Muslim family) kills a sheep or goat once a year. I was blessed with traveling the country when all buses, taxis, donkey carts, trains, and camels are booked solid but also had the privilege to witnessing this festival unfold in front to me as i slowly drove past a couple of small downs the day of the slaughter. A bit gruesome to see them killed, bleed, skinned, hung, and butchered all in public. I didn´t mind seeing it, as I am, and always have been a person who eats meat. I think the neat and clean packages stacked in our supermarkets filled with boneless, skinless, animal products are completely unrepresentative of what your are actually consuming, it makes us, at least me, forget that an animal had died and possibly lived a shitty life so i can stuff my fat face. I´m not going vegetarian on ya-all here (sorry to disappoint some) but i was happy to be reminded of how it all goes down.The hills of Morocco were beautifully peaceful as the Sahara desert was much of the same. I avoided riding an elephant while in Thailand due to cost and my disbelief that the animals were even marginally content with the life's they are forced to life. All though i feel partially the same with Camels i found it nearly irresistible to avoid sitting camel back and riding in the the endless sand dunes of the Sahara desert. A two hour, ball breaking ride (literally... quite painful) and my small group arrived at camp where we spent the night watching start pop over the massive 150ft dune we were camping under. From the busy markets of Marrakesh to the tight twisted alleys in Fes, to the colorful but quite streets Chefchaouen and the desolate Sahara desert i felt like i covered a fair bit of ground in a short while.

Morocco is a colorful place filled with culture and the last stop on the long twisted silk road which i have been traveling on and off for the past 15 months of my life. As a chef wondering into the spice markets in Marrakesh i smiled thinking about the distance i have traveled and the familiar sights i saw bottled up in front of me, star anis, galanga, lemon grass, cumin, coriander, different chili varieties, cinnamon, white pepper, black pepper, juniper, all spice, mace, green cardamom, black cardamom, along with the many others i couldn´t even identify. The flavors of the old world collected along the way passing in caravan style from Pacific Ocean and Beijing through Central Asia, into the middle east, across North Africa, dispersing across the Mediterranean into Europe or eventually making its way to the Atlantic here in Morocco. A world of flavor sat in front of me, and just like all those flavors, i´ll soon be heading across the ocean as well. Sitting now in Madrid Spain after arriving two days ago, eating tapas with some new friends, cooking dinner for some others, watching a Soccer match in a 50,000 person stadium last night, and waking up to snow on the cars this morning, i am currently waiting for my flight to Buenos Aries Argentina. I´ve been thinking about all the ground i have covered up until this point and it amazes me how far i have come. One last long air plane ride across the Atlantic Ocean puts me back in the Americas, just one step closer to home, with a few thousand miles of solid traveling ahead of me i´m ready to tackle one last continent.