Category Archives: Morocco

Greetings dear friends and family, 
We have one more full day of adventuring to go, that leaves me starting to feel uncomfortable. Transitioning from a trip is always tough. But alas, I’d like to tell you about our day today. 
We had another super relaxing morning with our typical start to the day, enjoying breakfast at 11am.  I had reserved the pool again this morning and enjoyed another session of water exercises with some additional pool tricep dips and shoulder dips. One has to get creative! 
We wanted to get to our final destination and reluctantly departed the stunning Chefchaouen.   While we were eager to see the final leg of the journey I couldn’t help but miss the peace in blue when we drove into the chaos of this North African city.  The first sighting of the city is a sprawling neighborhood which seems to consume a wide and vast landscape. These are homes for people with very low income, a neighborhood so large it couldn’t almost be a city into itself.  As we drove along the main road, N2, it’s flanked by green patches of grass upon which many people were sitting, almost in a picnic style. This was certainly a less than picturesque setting for a social scene with thousands of cars streaming past, trucks carrying gravel and other natural resources minned from the surrounding mountains, motor bikes, local buses and taxis, so many taxis.  While we couldn’t look into the neighborhoods they were densely arranged though it might be that there are no green spaces for the residents.  Therefore, heading out the road side where the grass is green works. 
Luckily the drive was simple and we had no issues, Obi has become a real expert at navigating these lawless streets.  He’d probably say otherwise, but compared to the first day he’s become much more confident.  Boldly entering the roundabouts and can manage the many people walking out into the middle of the roads. We did start the day with fresh air in the tires and sent a picture of the dashboard symbol to the car rental place. We have only one more drive to go, a 21 minute drive to the airport incredibly early on Sunday morning.  We’re counting on the blue rental Renault to get us there! 
Driving has been, as you know, a point of stress for us, however it serves the most wonderful purpose of really allowing you to see the country. My favorite part of today’s ride was seeing the road side products for sale change as we drove along. It seems the prickly pear is a staple throughout Morocco. They are sold everywhere along every road and in every city. Today’s ride began with so many stands selling clay bowls and tagines.  Some of the bowlo are painted with beautiful patterns and designs but more often than not, almost all of the products are the natural clay color. A rich brown. These stands were over flowing with molded and kiln fired pottery to purchase. The tables they rested on looked tired and buckled in the center  from the weight. Every stand also utilized the surrounding ground and pilled high the ware for display.  It reminded me of a pumpkin stand one that is fresh with the new harvest. So many pumpkins in similar shades of color but different in sizes everywhere. I remember as a kid wanting to find the most perfect one, but with so many to choose from it was difficult. These stands have hundreds of options of the same exact item.  Sometimes hanging on the wooden slats behind the pottery are woven blankets also with a similar pattern of white and a stripe of color. Comon colors are red and blue. As we drove onward I started to see buckets of limes being sold. Small but bright green limes with elder women and men seated behind them.  They were just selling limes.  Then we passed a large section where hay was being sold in rectangular brick like blocks. Near the hay were horses nibling on the pieces scattered around.  The most visually exciting product for sale were the knotted onion ropes. These were heavy strings with onions strung on like a beaded necklace. Some of them draped over tall walls and could have easily been 8-10 feet long. I’ve never seen so many onions before! The bands were different in size ad they sorted the onions from small, medium and large. Each size was organized on its own string.  The stands were endless, and the onions looked amazing. Each with a soft reddish brown flaky skin. I do love a good onion dish. 
Our hotel is grand in size with a pool nicely designed with a mosiac flower in blue tiles so under the water it’s visually appealing. The hotel is also well situated in the town center and will allow us to walk around easily tomorrow.  This afternoon instead of venturing into the Medina and seeing the cultural sights we decided to take a 50 minute walk to what the guide books described as a green hill where the locals walk up and sit to overlook Tangier. The guide book said it is the only place you can go for a view of the city. I had a lot of energy and so off we went. The walk was relatively enjoyable in that we got to see a main thuoroughfare and saw a young man on roller blades hook onto a car as it drove up the hill. He saw us watching and gave us a “rock on” finger sign. We had expected the walk to not be too pleasant but were excited for a view. The higher we climbed the sooner we realized there was no greenery here and unfortunately the view of the water was highly obstructed by trees, and new waterfront buildings reaching high. The area at the top was beyond trashed, the ground was littered with broken glass and other small garbage debris.  I noticed a lot of sheep scat and then we saw a small flock of sheep hearded around. I’m not sure what they were eating.  There were a few young men seated in some flat cardboard boxes. We walked around to the other end and found a large Muslim cemetery. This was the foreground to the poorer neighborhoods which spread far. The grave markers were white with Arabic writing, the plants were all dehydrated and dried up. Some were thorny and others were sticks and roots.  From this angle we were able to see pretty far into the distance and even spotted the windmills we’d seen driving in.  By now we were very sweaty but the wind was strong and nearly took my glasses from the top of my head. We saw a grounds keeper digging a whole which he was measuring for a giant plastic bucket. Chickens were scattered around as well. So it wasn’t what we expected but it was a moment to remember. 
We decided to head towards the ocean, on the Tangier Bay, which is unfortunately the most polluted ocean in Morocco given the amount of cargo ships and boats which head to the port directly next to it.  This didn’t stop the hundreds of beach goers we saw. Along the beach are also many young boys and men with horses for you to ride. They speed up and down the beach, hitting the horses legs looking for someone to want a ride. The horses were also a broad range of types from a standard size horse, miniature horse, standard ponies and even miniature ponies. The animals were fully saddled and often standing like a stone statue with their eyes closed. I was struck by how stoic they were amidst the beach chaos as if they had developed some type of coping mechanism to deal with their destiny. Just as Obi and I had walked out to the ocean and snapped a few pictures, see below :), we spotted the first camels we’d seen also available for rides. Three camels seated in the sand, looking more at home than the horses. No one was riding them but they were prepared with seats and mouth pieces tied to ropes. 
At this point I was very hungry and so our final event of the evening was looking for a restaurant. Not always such an easy task, so we decided to keep walking towards the hotel. We wanted falafels but had not seen one advertised this whole trip and then like magic a Syrian sandwich shop appeared which sold falafels, yum! Just as we were about to enter an employee said they were closed and in a genuine and kind manner said he knows a restaurant around the corner with vegetarian food, couscous and vegetable tagine. We trusted him and he led us to a place that offered food. He ordered for us, (way too much food) but we ate our full and felt satisfied.  I had to sample a few more Moroccan cookies and so we stopped in two pastry shops for dessert. I enjoyed my treats while Obi ate some less than thrilling Oreo flavor ice cream. 
Tomorrow I booked us a two hour tour to see Cap Spartel and the Hercules caves. Legend has it Hercules himself rested in these caves. You know I love a good Greek myth. In order to see these places you would need to drive, I wanted to avoid more driving for Obi and thought a tour guide might be nice. I’ll fill you in tomorrow. 
For now, goodnight from Tangier. 
With care, Franziska
PS. These two girls were having so much fun in the water! 

Dear friends and family, 
There is something magical about a city blanketed in blue.  The white wash buildings covered in various shares of blue are truly special. I’ve never been to a place so calming and intensely captivating. 
We started our morning with another traditional breakfast with various breads, some yogurt with dates, fruit salad, mint tea and orange juice. While eating bread for breakfast is something I only like to do on Sunday, I’m thoroughly enjoying the mix of flat bread, semolina bread, Moroccan style pancakes light as air and Berber bread. The goat cheese and honey combination make a nice pair.  
Chefchaouen is not a very large town but we found enough to do to keep us busy. We began the day with the goal of visiting the town’s natural spring. The spring is the reason this town was formed. The natural water source is in abundance, so that many years ago people settled here. Today because so many tourists visit the spring a small building was built above it for people to photograph. It has a sort of holy presence, water coming from the earth is always incredible. We saw the water bring pumped through various hoses which isn’t that pleasing to look at, but knowing the importance of this water source was meaningful.  
Before the financial crisis in 2008 Chefchaouen had been a wildly popular place for Spanish tourists from Spain to visit. The Spanish made up 90% of the tourist industry. Since the crisis that number dropped significantly and now it’s a much smaller percentage and the tourist industry is approximately 80% international. This was evident on many of the signs we saw, the languages were Arabic, French and Spanish. 
At the site of the natural spring there is a walking/hiking loop around a small mountain which is 30km long. Obi and I were not prepared for the whole loop walk but we did venture out along a very picturesque section to a Spanish mosque.  The mosque was built for the Spanish population in the 1920’s but has long since been abandoned and more recently renovated. While it’s not an active mosque is boats the best views of the blue city. Obi and I took a leisurely pace to the top which allowed for the beautiful breeze to keep us cool. It was approaching the hottest part of the day so the sun was heavy.  My back was drenched in sweat but I don’t mind these things.  The air had an unfamiliar odor, which I found pleasant. There were goats in the distance along a dry path. We stopped to take some pictures along the way but were truly impressed by the view from the top. One can see the whole city with the backdrop of the mountains in the distance. Eventually we were the only people up there and used that opportunity to enjoy the view and take a photo sphere with Obi’s phone camera. A neat 360 degree image which brings you into a virtual reality type feeling. We really had a nice time even though Obi joked I tricked him into walking UP so much:) The funny thing is that yesterday evening I spotted this mosque high on the hill and said I want to go there, Obi gave be that look of, “No way.” I just smiled. Ha, so when today’s opportunity presented itself I casually kept waking:) No tricks here, just luck.
We then decided to head deeper into the Medina towards the towns oldest square. At this location, where all the Medina streets converge is the cities oldest historical building, the Kasbah. This Kasbah was built in 1471. The Kasbah served as a governor palace through the 17th century. The building was used to house a prison, animal barn, horses, garden and princely residence. The Kasbah is also like a castle is some ways with 13 towers and a defensive rampart. The material is a rich brown gravel type cement so it feels medieval. In the center is a garden with orange trees, palm trees and other local plants. We were able to climb into the tallest tower from which we had a great view from within the Medina. Obi and I were again the only two people there and decided with a four way breeze it’d be a nice spot for a snack. As we snacked a few other people trekked through and I took their photos for them;) 
We both observed pretty quickly how clean this small city is.  While there are certainly areas for trash to accumulate, the piles are tiny and seem to be swept up quickly by city employees. You’ll see cat litter often because there is a tremendously high number of stray cats, everywhere. Kittens lay on almost every street some in groups and many as single cats. They are so tiny it’s hard to spot them, but people place food outside and raw fish scraps for them to eat. There also seems to be a high level of priority from the residents to keep the city clean. It feels like everyone acknowledges the importance and maintains a high standard. 
Obi and I spent a little over an hour at the hotel in the late afternoon which was perfect for me to take a swim. The pool is by reservation only so when you reserve it, you have the whole space to your self. It’s not very large but just big enough that I could do about seven breast strokes in one direction. Back and forth I went but also incorporated many of my water exercises which got me truly breathless and hungry for dinner.  This was my first workout since being on our trip, see how relaxed I am;) 
Speaking of relaxing, Obi and I have been offered on numerous occasions to purchase hashish, which is the dried resin from the plant. It seems to be in abundance here and because we look young (I guess) so many men come up to us and say things like, “You want to buy some good hashish?” or, “You want to relax tonight with your lady?” or, “You want to have fun tonight?”  Obi learned that Morocco is the largest hashish producer globally. That explains the quantity, but with the persistent men trying to sell to us we have to be equally as persistent in saying NO! 
Earlier we’d seen an area at the Kasbah which had many restaurants to choose from. Certainly a tourist location but one with some more vegetarian options. Obi ate pizza! I had a traditional Moroccan soup which had a light tumeric taste in a cream sauce, paired with vegetable tagine. Tonight’s Berber bread was made from a dark grain, it was more rustic and hearty. 
Our day ended with a long evening stroll through the Medina and outskirts of the city.
Our walk tonight let us to the outdoor produce market. It can drop into the low 50s here at night so the air is very cool and this is when everyone comes out to shop. Even though it was dark outside the market was packed with people. Farmers yelling so loudly over each other the names of their products and prices. The streets were covered in the flaky onion skin, excess green leaves from corn and other squash, damaged apples littered the streets along with abandoned melons. I could’ve watched the scene unfold for an hour. Women with bags full to the brim with every vegetable and fruit they need. 

We only glanced at the gps once. I really feel so relaxed here and trust that which ever path we take, I have the inner gut feeling it’ll get us back. While the Medina here is like the other Medinas with narrow streets, steep steps and twists and turns, I can always see the sky, and the mountains serve as a great geographic landmark. Even if I can’t see them, my bones can feel them and this has somehow let us to exactly where we’ve needed to go every time. Obi and I were joking about this… Because everywhere else we go or have been together such as any place in NYC, his hometown in St.Louis or Belgium, my directional gut is always wrong. Without fail, I’m somehow turned around and want to walk in the wrong direction. You put me on a mountain though and I could practically go blind. I use the natural landmarks as they are intended and have always known this is an area of strength for me. Little did I know, the disorganized style of these Medina streets are no match for me.  The stroll through the dark with street lights thoughtfully placed allowed for a meditative walk. Hand in hand we meandered along without a moment of worry. And like a magician’s trick the final street we took lead us directly to the foot of our hotel. Voila!   I will also say that walking through the medina at night was special because we could sneak little glanceo into the windows of the homes to catch home life in action. Kids crying, women washing dishes, men chatting with their children or friends, cooking or some doing laundry.

I was successful in calling the car company today and reported the tire issue. They need a picture of the dashboard symbol so tomorrow when we arrive in Tangier we’ll send them one. We’ll fill the tires up with air tomorrow again and cross our fingers the 2.5 hour drive will be smooth and without a speeding ticket! 
I’ll keep you all posted;) I’m eager to see the ocean again. 
Here is a picture of us being absorbed into the blue magic. 
With care, Franziska

Greetings friends and family, 
Obi and I said goodbye to Fes this morning. I certainly slept better last night and while my digestive concerns are still present overall it was a much calmer emotional day;) 
I received much feedback from my last entry from fellow traveler’s who experienced similar struggles in Morocco but find that they become minor blips in the journey.  
We had a projected three and a half hour drive to Chefchaouen today, which as I miss spoke in my last email I sent you is the, “Amsterdam of Morocco,” ( not of Europe!).  Our Google map was for the most part very accurate guiding us brave globetrotters through the mountains except for the very last part of the drive… I’ll get there. 
In total our drive ultimately took us just over five hours and we stopped four (nearly five) times. First to get gas, and fill our tires up (again), second so that I could relieve myself behind a thorny tree, third by a group of wildly bold children selling prickly pear on the side of the road, fourth by the police for speeding(!) and fifth to purchase some much needed water.  You may be wondering about that fourth stop by the police… Yup, we got a speeding ticket.  A speeding trap in it’s finest form.  Here’s the scene: Two officers were at the top of a big hill, so just after you cruise out from an 80km zone, gliding downhill while naturally picking up speed (because of gravity) they have got a speed gun aimed directly at you and clock your speed before you enter the 60km zone which is at the top of the hill.  So just as Obi notices the 60km sign and starts to slow down, they pull us over.  One officer asks for our car registration, then Obi’s drivers license and his passport. The other officer shows us the speed gun to prove what we did. He clocked us at 71kmph in a 60 zone. Obi was truly polite and calm. Inside I was worried that they were holding his passport and licence. Obi said it’s confusing and explained that we were going downhill. The officer said, “It’s not America. It’s Morocco, it’s confusing. 60, 80, 60, 80. It’s confusing.” Obi asked how much it would be, “300MAD replied the officer”. He asked Obi to come with him to his vehicle. I waited by the car watching. It took a few moments and Obi returned with the three documents and 100MAD. Obi explained to me what transpired at the car, first some small talk about his name, and if he was an American. Obi replied, “Nigeria,” and the officer gave a pleased remark. Then in a friendly way gave Obi some money back asking if he was my husband.  Obi said he didn’t record anything down, just seemed to take the money and send us on our way. Believe me when I say we were watching those speed indicator signs like a river duck searching for fly larva who’ve hooked themselves to the rocks under the water.  There were some stretches of road in which between a span of 20 km the signs would change from 60, to 80 and back again. Oy vey! We did see more officers with speed guns but luckily did not get pulled over again!
Back to the children who nearly stopped us, they saw our car chugging slowly along and immediately ran to the middle of the road. The girl stood in the road with her arms out wide and the two boys ran to Obi’s window. We slowed down to a very very slow crawl. They all yelled loudly, “Stop, stop” and were aggressively banging on the window. We were trying to communicate that we didn’t want to buy anything and drove incredibly carefully past them. They didn’t give up easily though. 
Fortunately for us, this was the last of the difficult drives (fingers crossed). When we leave here on Friday we’ll be driving to the big city of Tangier and expect the roads to be fully paved and wide.  Our drive today was long because while these roads were paved there is excessive erosion on each side of the pavement so all that remains is just enough asphalt for one car to wobble through the middle. When another vehicle approaches we drop into the rocky gravel along the shoulder. The road is also full of potholes. Some so large we’d cringe upon hitting them.   Given our apprehension towards the car with it’s tire issue and the quality of the roads… Being many miles from anything at all during large stretches of our journey left us on the edge of our seats. We had a few worst case scenarios planned out just in case the worst did happen.
I don’t want to leave you with the impression that the drive was solely about the road quality (as compared to American standards) because this drive was so much more than that. The country side was changing again as we drove deeper into the mountains. Craggly rocky ridges with sheep herders along the treaded for paths by livestock dotted the valleys mountain faces. Farm fields of hay turned into lush green orange groves using water from the fresh water river. We saw people washing and swimming in the cool water colored a faint turquoise. There were many small towns we passed with markets, selling oranges, watermelons, plums, grapes, potatoes, spices, onions, garlic, leafy greens and so so so much more laid on the floor on top tarps. The homes were bound by rope and tin, sheets of corrugated metal, old wood and some built with bricks and cement. The farmers sitting sideways on the donkeys each caring two bulbous sacks on either side full of groceries to bring home, or something to sell in the market. The riders allow their front leg to bop up and down on the donkey which seems to be the way they communicate in terms of speed and direction. They also make commands with their voice. They sit so comfortable. The donkeys often look tired and worn. Swollen bellies, skinny legs and knobby knees with speckled fur. Children walking along the road playing or helping each other carry a heavy load. There were some women outside of the house working in the field, adorned in large wide brimmed straw hats with a distinct cone shape often with colorful pompom like decorations. There truly was a lot to see and take in. 
Alas, we bumped right along until reaching the city in blue. Chefchaouen. Our first sighting was at the top of a ridge, with a view many people stopped to take a picture from.  Before we got out, a group of children ran over to our window holding a camera. I suppose they were hoping to take our picture for us.  
The city is known for its white and blue homes. I’ll take some pictures tomorrow, but you can see the view from our hotel in the photo below.  There are multiple theories as to why everything is painted blue. They range from blue keeps the mosquitos away, or to prevent termites from eating their homes copper sulphate was added to the paint which caused the blue color, or that Jewish people introduced the color blue in the 1930’s after taking refuge from Hitler, or that blue symbolizes the heaven and sky which reminds people to live a spiritual life. I will ask a local tomorrow and see when their response is. Stay tuned. 
Now, as I mentioned earlier the map was mostly accurate. However, the final part of our journey was to the hotel which as it turns out is within a pedestrian only area. We followed some hairpin turns going to some very challenging “off roading,” only to find that the real road stops even though the Google road continued. Lol. So we turn around and find another road that also stops at one of the cities babs or gates.  We load up our luggage with Obi using his location and we trek up and down, around and up an down again the narrow but strikingly beautiful blue streets.  It was hot, very hot. Sweat beads accumulating fast but our minds focused. At one point we found ourselves behind a house with the cats at a total dead end. A man comes out and said he heard is through his window and asks if we needed help. Yes please;) He told us we were nearly there, just a bit further down and to the right.  Teamwork.  Bingo… He was correct and we made it! Our hotel is truly lovely and peaceful. The color blue swallows you right up. 
We did get help from a hotel employee to take us back to the car and drive to a more local parking lot. I loved going back to the car because I championed up the steep steps without a moments hesitation. You know I do love going uphill! When we finally made it back down to the parking lot we watched as the parking attendant maneuvered our car into the tinniest of spots for it’s two night stay.  He had some very strong spatial awareness. 
At this point it’s nearly 6pm, our stomachs are growling and we need food… Hopefully not vegetables and couscous, or rice with lamb sauce. I had read about a restaurant with great food called Bab Ssour. It was nearby and off we went. I have to say, I thought it was a fantastic meal. We had oven fired bread, with olives, a spicy dipping sauce, a bowl of incredible lentils, spaghetti for Obi, and a plate with warm salads which included (spinach, lentils, squash, tomato and peppers, eggplant).  Each flavored differently and so flavorful. Oh, we also ordered fresh juice. I had a glass if blackberry juice, imagine a blackberry smoothie (a first for me) and Obi fresh pineapple. They were both fantastic though I thought my blackberry juice was perfectly sweetened.  They also don’t give you a check, instead to go to the counter and tell them what you ordered to pay. The whole meal cost us $12. The restaurant was small in size but shines a rainbow with it’s wonderful food, friendly staff and finding places built on honesty is truly rare. 
We ended our night with some fresh cookies I bought at a nearby bakery while looking at the sun’s setting shadow cast over the city. We might’ve taken a selfie also down below. 
Tomorrow we’ll explore this new place a bit more and get lost in the adventure. 
With care, Franziska
PS. With help from if the front desk, I called three numbers for the car rental, no luck. I’ll try again when the sun in shining. 

Dear friends and family, 
Today was a day for mixed emotions.  I didn’t sleep well last night and this might have contributed to how I felt at certain points of the day. 
We began the day with a breakfast consisting of seven different types of Moroccan beads, honey, jam, yoghurt, packaged cheese, eggs, orange juice and mint tea.   Obi had hardly an appetite and I’m struggling with some bathroom issues as well. We think our stomachs might have reacted to the prickly pear. We’d been warned not to eat any fresh fruit, but in the moment yesterday it was hard to refuse even after we’d already politely refused multiple times. We’ve learned people here are extremely forceful in their will. During breakfast I did manage to sample the breads and ate a full meal, my top bread was the Moroccan flat bread with honey. After which point we ventured out to meet someone we’d meet yesterday as a guide.  Fes is an extremely challenging labyrinth unless you’re familiar with it, or have a highly developed spatial awareness, good luck! The amount of twists and turns without points to orient with except for chicken stalls, grain and spice racks,  clothing stands, leather shops, shoe shops, etc.  To someone new these stalls look so familiar, it feels a little like a house of mirrors.  
Needless to say, a guide was required and so we found the man we’d met yesterday who asked his friend to join us. Two young men, acting as not official guides. They took us to the usual spots the tourists like starting with a view of Fes and then down into the Medina. Because they are not official guides they would tag team and split up, one in front, another looping around a corner street to meet us. There were times we couldn’t see either one, and then suddenly they’d appear almost as if they’d materialize from the cracked cement wall. Walking with them was certainly informative as they shared facts about the city. They were very proud of the UNESCO identifying Fes as an official heritage site, when this happened they said each house received $8,000 dollars to repair and improve their homes. Then they said houses only got $4,000 and the government took half. It was unclear who got what money, but throughout the tour they’d show us fountains for potable water which were placed everywhere and wooden beams installed to reinforce structures.  They spoke to us about the limited opportunities for work, which we could observe as well. Mainly because it seems like there are three categories of activities for people, people are shopping (women and children), working (inside the home mostly women and outside the home mostly men) or looking to make money in any way possible. Almost every male not behind a shop counter is walking around/near our seated at a shop socializing looking to speak with a tourist and offer a type of service for payment.  It’s a challenging environment to live in they explained and this was evident.  Our guides were well known around the town, often shaking hands with people. They took us to some shops with the hopes that we’ll buy some things. I did purchase a few items but declined many other offers. It’s a bit taxing to decide often, but it’s evident that tourism is a true revenue source and so they have to keep trying. 
The most unique place we went to visit was the tannery cooperative.  The tanneries are leather processing plants which date back thousands of years.  The process of turning animal hides into soft rot proof leather.  The tanneries are near a water source and ideally away from residential areas because the odor is highly unpleasant. These tanneries were directly in the middle of Fes, and it was a smell I’d been noticing since we arrived. The first step is to soak the hides and remove the hair. They are rinsed in a huge tumble dryer type wooden machine and then soaked in a liquid solution mixed with vats of pigeon poop. We learned that pigeon poop is high in ammonia which breaks down the fat from the hide. The smell comes from this stage, and it’s a smell I’ll never forget. It has a mix of rotting meat, rancid fat and chemicals which have been nearly boiling in the sun for days on end. Men stand inside these small containers waist high in the liquid with bare hands stomping and mashing the soft hides in the liquid solution.  You can imagine how wine was made years ago, stomping on the grapes.  The “cleaned” hide is then dyed and dried in the sun.  Finally mules are loaded up with 30-40 hides which transport them through the narrow streets of Fes to local craftsmen who cut and sew the leather into anything you can imagine. 
I came to realize today that while I enjoy seeing such unsuall and different ways of life, being beholden to a guide is extremely frustrating for me. As an independent traveler, not being able to go where I want is aggravating and if we did venture off we’d most likely get wildly lost.  This began to weigh on me. The tour was certainly worth it, but after a few hours I was ready to transition. Obi and paid the guides at the end of the tour what we thought was a fair price but they insisted we give the same amount to each of them and pay for the entry to a terrace for a view of the university mosque.   It was unclear if they actually paid for us, but either way we got to see the city. 
Obi and I took a rest at the hotel in the afternoon and decided to drive over to the new part of Fes, which didn’t require a guide to see the town and the palace doors. Despite the heat, Obi was at my side. We easily found parking and started walking along. I was finally at ease, relaxed and confident in my whereabouts. At one point we stopped to check our map, and a man came up saying politely the palace gates were around the corner. He said the way we wanted was only one gate guarded and the other way we’d see seven. We followed his advice thinking it was innocent, but it was a full on trap. We turned the corner he indicated and no sooner do we turn around he’s directly behind us, indicating to follow and he’ll show us. It happened so fast but he guided is instantly into the Jewish quarters of Fes, another highly complex labyrinth of streets. He kept saying the gates are here, but they weren’t. He was taking us on a tour talking about history, showing us very old homes, iron work, synagogues, the Star of David on homes, teaching us about the five pillars of Islam, explaining how the Jewish cemetery is designed and even takes us to a fence with a whole cut into it so that we could photograph the tombstones. I politely declined every opportunity he gave us for pictures, and while the information was absolutely fascinating I couldn’t concentrate or enjoy myself at all. I was so angry inside. I felt trapped and anxious. I despised not knowing where I was or how to get out. I couldn’t think about anything else but escaping. Obi could tell I was loosing it inside despite my best attempts to be polite. I really tried but I needed to get out. I did not like that he tricked us, this made it worse. Eventually I said stearnly that I wanted to exit so he took us back out, and then wanted to walk us to the palace gates. I said no. He then wanted money, I said no again. He kept pushing. He didn’t realize that in my book, no means no. And I meant it. My heart was beating, I was surprised by how strongly I didn’t like being so trapped but it was challenging for me to control. Obi helped me to settle down. 
After I de-escilated we went the way we should have gone for the palace and saw the seven stunning palace gates. Golden in all of their glory. Given the intense heat we took some pictures and made our way to the car, with food on our minds. Unfortunately when we got back on the road the tire pressure sign came on again! We found a tire shop and a young boy covered in black oil and dirt checked our tires and added air. He used the tire air pump with such fluidity. He really knew what he was doing. We paid and thanked him. 
Back at the hotel we decided to see if they’d have a recommendation for a restaurant. We were hoping for something different than what we eaten the last two days, couscous and vegetables. While delicious, a third night would have been less appealing. The hotel recommend a place and made us a reservation. It was in the city though which meant we’d need a guide to get us there. Sigh. We were desperate for something new to eat so we accepted and the hotel employee walked is there. I was watching carefully so that I could get us back home. But as we began the restaurant was too far away that I struggled to keep it all in my head. When we got to the restaurant the man said he’d come back to get us. We enter the restaurant and we’re the only guests, certainly no need for a reservation. The place is huge and ornately decorated. We sat in a cozy nook with cushions hoping someone else would come in. The waitress said she knew we were vegetarians and said the only thing she had was… couscous and vegetables!!!! The exact meal we were trying to not eat again. What were we to do? Risk going back and getting lost? We’d just gotten there? If we returned the hotel could only offer is the same food as well!?  We asked if there was any other vegetarian option, she talked to someone else and she came back to report they could cook rice with the tagine sauce and grilled veggies. We accepted. We waited a while and finally the food arrived. We were so hungry at this point. Upon looking at the food we realized the veggies were not grilled, they were exactly the same as what would have been on the couscous. Instead of the couscous we had rice in a tomato sauce. I served two plates and we began eating. Upon my fist bite I tasted lamb. I like lamb but didn’t want to eat any and Obi is a strickt vegetarian. I didn’t say anything because there was no meat in the dish, I just tasted something like lamb. I figured since the hotel called and said we were vegetarians and we told her, AND she made this meal especially for us… There would be no meat and this was all in my imagination. I thought it just a new Moroccan spice I was unfamiliar with and kept eating. No sooner do I have these thoughts Obi finds something hard in his mouth. Upon inspection it was a rice grain. Fine. Then two bites later another hard thing in his mouth, rice grain again? NO! A chunk of bone! Okay, we think that’s odd, and cautiously keep eating until he takes a final bite to discover TWO more chunks of bone! That’s it! We’re done. I told him, it’s lamb, the bones confirmed my suspicion. Oh it was so disheartening. We told the women (who was very apologetic). We were still hungry but at this point just wanted to get home. But alas… Were in the middle of the maze, alone!  Obi said, “adventure time,” and I kicked into survival mode. I navigated us again right out of the maze home with only one wrong turn which we corrected. 
Anyhow, today left me with many feelings, some moments of curiosity and amazement (it’s impossible to not acknowledge how hard working the men at the tanneries are), feelings of high anxiety, disappointment, fright and see. J
Despite all of this our day ended with Obi and I sitting on the terrace with food coop nuts watching the lunar eclipse listening to the final day’s evening prayers bellowing from the many nearby mosques. Absolutely pleasant.
My friends, tomorrow we’re driving to Chefchaouen, locals say it’s the “Amsterdam of Europe.”  Let’s hope our car cooperates. 
With care, Franziska