Onward To Fes…And A Scuffle

Onward to Fes... And A Scuffle !

I'm sitting here, at this moment, drinking tea..... a nice cup of tea ! I'm English  and its what we do!

On a fateful morning, many moons ago, we decide that we had to move on. And it was over a cup of sweet tea that we made our plans. We'd already spent several days languishing in Ouezzane....the people were wonderful and we'd been enjoying the food immensely... but our feet were itching and wanderlust was driving us onwards. 

Our next destination was to be the medieval fortress city of Fes. You may ask why ? My simple answer is because its there and we wanted to see the place that gave its name to what is, a rather odd hat with a tassle.

So off we went.

The public bus was once again our main means of transport. Hiking across the mountains was not an option in those days. There was too much risk attached to it. Hitchhiking was 'improbable' because of the lack of roads with vehicles on them. So once again it was to be a beaten up bus.....very cheap and horribly uncomfortable.

We got as far as Meknes and disembarked. Filling up our canteens with water in a roadside cafe, we sat down to enjoy a mint tea. We consulted our maps again, because I think that we had both had enough of this particular form of transit. We needed to find another way ?!

A very British voice said 'hello', and we both looked up at a redheaded, middle aged woman.

She was holding the hand of a teenage girl, and also sipping a mint tea.

Behind her was a man in khaki shorts and a tank top.....he was putting bottles of water into the large blue van that was on the road beside him. On it was emblazoned 'Berkshire Library Authority' !

Jamie and I were astonished !!

She sat down and introduced herself...Margery.

We sat there with our mouths wide open.!

Had she arrived to reclaim our overdue library books?

After the initial shock, she explained that her family were dropping out of society and had come to Morocco for the sun, the open space and the 'hashish'. We laughed and chatted for an hour, but eventually they offered us a lift to Fes, as they were headed that way too.

This was too good to be true and over the next few hours we got to know our new friends a little. However, as the sun started to drop in the sky, we saw the walls of Fes appear before us.....massive walls. They dropped us off, wished us well and drove off into the sunset.

Our next problem was where to sleep for the night. We contemplated camping outside the walls and as we did so, we were mobbed by small children. They were beggars and there were literally hundreds of them. We already knew that by hiring one, the others would dissipate. We chose the wrong one.

He indicated to us that he knew of a pension (bed n breakfast) inside the walls, where it was cool and clean and where we could get some food. This was more appealing than camping on a rocky crag underneath the walls, so off we went.... two Anglo Saxons into the heart of Berber owned Fes.!

We were led into the heart of the Medina, which was a maze of streets, and within minutes we were completely lost. It seemed that everyone in the city had come to see these strangers who had arrived in their midst......     but we both had an uneasy feeling, and it seemed to us that the crows were circling.

After about thirty minutes, a very impressive building with large wooden doors appeared before us. Interestingly, we were surrounded by very colourful dye making pits that were beautiful to look at. As if by magic, the doors of the building opened and we entered into a courtyard. All the while the beggar boy was chattering to us nonchalantly. He indicated that we should sit by the fountain,... and then he ran off. 

We sat by the fountain... and waited.

Within seconds a burly man, wearing a kaftan and, yes, a fes, appeared. He was smiling and revealing a number of blackened broken teeth. Immediately, a couple of other young men arrived, carrying trays of cakes and a pot of mint tea. 

Our guard was up. None of this seemed right.

He poured us the tea, as the other two men, sat next to us. We all tried to converse. It was all very awkward. We tried to explain that we were looking for somewhere to stay and that it was getting dark. He insisted that we eat and drink.

This went on for sometime and both Jamie and I were now sure that something was really wrong. 

Eventually, I stood up and said that we had to go, but thanked everyone for their hospitality.

The burly man stood up and drew a curved knife from his belt.

This couldn't be happening.!

Jamie stood and we turned to leave, but one of the other men, also drew a knife and blocked our exit from the courtyard.

At this point, conversation had run its course. The burly man kept on pointing to the cakes and shouting the word 'hashish', as he waved his cruel blade at us. Looking back afterwards we realised that this was his game, and this was how he sold hash to strangers. We did not know this and weren't there for that. It was a very strange cultural exchange.

Anyway, I grabbed the knife blade of the man who was blocking our entrance. Jamie skirted around him and got out into the Medina. The knife was cutting through the tendons of my thumb and hand ( I still have a long scar there today), but I stared at our assailants and pushed the one man to the ground. They weren't sure what to do, but they knew that I meant business.

They stepped back and away from me. I turned on my heels and walked out.

Nothing more happened. The streets were quiet and we managed to work our way back to a gatehouse on the walls of the city, from which we descended down to the same rocky crag that we had contemplated camping on before.

We spent the night there, before moving on the next day. Fes had not been a good stop for us, but its been a wonderful tale ever since.

Buy me a pint one day and I'll tell you more about it !