tannery

love his hat!

 Although the leather tannery of Fez is almost at the centre of the medina, you will never have trouble finding it. As you get closer, you will smell the unmistakable odour, simultaneously besieged by any number of people wanting to take you to their father/brother/cousin's shop. The leather shops are all situated close by -most with a birds' eye view of the dyepits, which is where these photos were taken, and where I saw the skins being dyed for the yellow baboosh.

A small girl aged about 10 years followed us there, in spite of us telling her we were not going to give her any dirhams-  all the way being told by stern Moroccan men that she should be at school. Unofficial tour guides are actively discouraged by the authorities, and any one caught is in trouble with the police. We had first hand experience of this, after we met an entertaining young man with terrible dental hygiene, speaking excellent English, while standing hopelessly lost in the street looking at a map. We followed him for an energetic, interesting 45 minutes through narrow twisting alleys far from any known route, when quite suddenly he was pursued at high speed on foot by two uniformed men while standing talking to me. We never saw him again, but hoped he got away as we had really come to enjoy his company.

the yellow baboosh

Sometimes you see people who make you look, for whatever reason. This man caught my eye, and not for the obvious - the vivid yellow of his djellaba. No, he had a strong presence in the way he mindfully walked along radiating great dignity. The hooded djellaba is a traditional garment worn by many men in Morocco, which is simply thrown on over their usual shirt and pants. They usually wear a pair of traditional pointy toe leather slippers also, called 'baboosh'. You can see them for sale in many market stalls, rows and rows of them in any number of colours.  Moroccans have a love affair with the colour yellow- specifically a shade produced by turmeric. As well as being a favourite colour to paint exterior and interior walls of houses, it is the colour du jour for the baboosh worn by trendy young guys in Fez and Marrakesh together with regular tshirts and jeans.

butcher

Imagine walking in a city where the streets have no names (well no streetsigns anyway), and there are no maps. But all the locals know exactly where they are going because they grew up there, and can find their way like a blind man. You must just walk in the general direction of a mud map and rely on asking directions (if you speak Arabic!) That's when your instincts kick in- it's fun! The alleys- souks- are all about 2 metres wide, and only wide enough for a donkey or horse as transport for the huge amounts they carry to the stalls. I was enchanted by the tiny Fassi cats that seemed to be everywhere they could get a free feed, particularly at this butcher right next to the bread sellers' table, who threw scraps now and then.

Fes

From Marseilles, Morocco is only 2 hours by air. To arrive in such a different culture- north Africa, is the just the best experience. The sounds, the heat, the smells.... a step back in time to a place that has not changed in centuries. I practiced Arabic phrases on the driver of the ancient faded beige Mercedes which wait en mass outside the airport in Fes or Fez. We were dropped at the 'Bab R'cif' one of the entries to the alleys of the medina- the Old City, where a fellow was waiting with a cart to take our luggage the 15 minute walk around narrow cobbled alleys to deposit us at the riad we stayed at for 6 days- Riad Le Calife. Alexandre, a Frenchman and his lovely Moroccan wife Yasmine were waiting for us with cold drinks in the cool and groovy bar where, over strains of jazz, he told us fabulous life stories with the genuine warmth and hospitality that is revered in the Islamic culture.
Way to go.