Saturday, 29 May 2010: FEZ - RAK
Festive Fès
Breakfast was served in the lovely living room and I was very impressed with the table setting, the food, the cutlery, etc... very, very professional, charming and lovely.
We left the guesthouse after promising Bernard we’d meet him in the car-park by 2 pm and went to the car-park to get a petit taxi to the medina. Except we kind of took a wrong turn somewhere and after asking for directions, somehow ended up at Place Rcif and upon further exploration, found ourselves in the medina itself! We asked for directions for Talaa Seghira.
We were at Place Seffarine when Lin was persuaded by a coppersmith to enter his shop. I lingered outside. Then the same chap volunteered to show us a place where someone used to stay. I cautioned Lin that it was probably a ploy but he seemed genuine. I followed, grumbling. And what do we know, we found ourselves in a house full of carpets. Someone took us up to the roof where there were some girls working the carpet loom (I think that’s the word. I later found out that was only for demo) and down the stairs again. We were served mint tea and given explanation on yes, you guess it, carpets. Berber carpets, Fès carpets, the difference between the carpets, the motives, the colours... I found it boring and was ready to go. I had bought carpets in Makkah and had no need for any new carpet. (I especially wanted to roll my eyes every time he said we would be helping 1,400+ single mothers or something like that with our purchases – I should think I want to help myself first seeing I’m single too).
But Lin was persuaded and finally I agreed to buy one too. We took our time choosing our carpets, paid for them and left. The carpets would be couriered back. Hopefully one day I would look back and said what a wise purchase that was.
We walked around some and managed to find our way back to Bab Boujeloud. There were a lot more people today in the souk, it being Saturday and all, and a lot more traffic (donkeys ferrying goods). So we had to fight the throng of the Saturday shoppers, the loaded donkeys, the donkey owners, the shopkeepers who were luring customers besides trying to avoid the donkey dung and urine and the usual dust of the souk. The friendly locals were always trying to guess where we were from, calling out ‘Konnichiwa’, ‘Japanese?’, ‘Chinese?’, or ‘Korea?’. We heard these all throughout the time we were in Morocco.
We walked back down Talaa Kebira - seriously, I’d just advise you to choose Talaa Kebira. Ignore Talaa Seghira! - to the henna shop we stopped at yesterday and had another session of henna tattoo as the henna tattoo we did yesterday had all disappeared. This time, we were happier with the outcome.
We rushed back and bought lunch to go and while we were waiting, went to search for a mosque to perform prayers. After that, we rushed back to collect our lunch orders and asked Said to help get a petit taxi for us back to the parking near Dar Melody.
Bernard was waiting for us and maybe it was my imagination but he didn’t look to happy with us (it was well after 2 pm after all). We went back to Dar Melody, fetched our bags and went back to the parking area. He drove us to the train station and we rushed to get the ticket to Marrakesh. The purchase finally done, we rushed to the gate, bade farewell to Bernard and rushed for the train – which had to be on another platform but of course. Sod’s law. So we went down and up the stairs and ran for the first class carriage. Before long, I felt as if my lungs were bursting so we just got on the train and walked up to the first class from the second class. We had barely collapsed into our seats when the train pulled away from the station. Phew!
We spread out on the seats and napped away. The train filled up as the journey progressed and after Casa Oasis (one of the stations in Casablanca), we were joined by other passengers.
Our 1450 train was supposed to reach Marrakesh at 2205 and I started panicking when I realised it was already 2225 and the train was still running. I had every reason to be panicked: I did after all miss a station in Sri Lanka because unbeknown to Andrea and me, we were on an express train. We had to return back to our intended station by bus.
Lin asked the girl next to her and she assured us we had not yet reached Marrakesh. Great, I thought, so trains don’t run on time in Morocco. And just as we neared Marrakesh (well, most passengers were getting ready to disembark), the train stopped. In the middle of nowhere. After a few minutes, we found out the reason for this: the train had hit someone. Yikes. ‘Looks like we’ll arrive after midnight after all,’ I whispered to Lin: we had purposely chosen to leave Fès at 1450 rather than at 1650 because we would only reach Marrakesh after midnight if we took the latter train.
After what seemed an eternity, the train moved again. We all broke into relieved smiles and were so happy when we reached Marrakesh train station. We took a petit taxi to our guesthouse, Dar Khmissa. We did reach the guesthouse around midnight. Thankfully the (slightly camp) chap who opened the door didn’t scold us for our late arrival. I apologised and quickly explained the reason for our late arrival. It had been a long day indeed.
I shall stop here on that note.
To be continued
~~~~~~~~
It was Robin van Persie vs Nicklas Bendtner yesterday and RvP’s Oranje needed Dutch Courage to win by two goals. The Blue Samurai beat the Cameroons and The Italian Job was not executed well when the Azzurri only managed a draw with Paraguay.
Festive Fès
Breakfast was served in the lovely living room and I was very impressed with the table setting, the food, the cutlery, etc... very, very professional, charming and lovely.
We left the guesthouse after promising Bernard we’d meet him in the car-park by 2 pm and went to the car-park to get a petit taxi to the medina. Except we kind of took a wrong turn somewhere and after asking for directions, somehow ended up at Place Rcif and upon further exploration, found ourselves in the medina itself! We asked for directions for Talaa Seghira.
We were at Place Seffarine when Lin was persuaded by a coppersmith to enter his shop. I lingered outside. Then the same chap volunteered to show us a place where someone used to stay. I cautioned Lin that it was probably a ploy but he seemed genuine. I followed, grumbling. And what do we know, we found ourselves in a house full of carpets. Someone took us up to the roof where there were some girls working the carpet loom (I think that’s the word. I later found out that was only for demo) and down the stairs again. We were served mint tea and given explanation on yes, you guess it, carpets. Berber carpets, Fès carpets, the difference between the carpets, the motives, the colours... I found it boring and was ready to go. I had bought carpets in Makkah and had no need for any new carpet. (I especially wanted to roll my eyes every time he said we would be helping 1,400+ single mothers or something like that with our purchases – I should think I want to help myself first seeing I’m single too).
But Lin was persuaded and finally I agreed to buy one too. We took our time choosing our carpets, paid for them and left. The carpets would be couriered back. Hopefully one day I would look back and said what a wise purchase that was.
We walked around some and managed to find our way back to Bab Boujeloud. There were a lot more people today in the souk, it being Saturday and all, and a lot more traffic (donkeys ferrying goods). So we had to fight the throng of the Saturday shoppers, the loaded donkeys, the donkey owners, the shopkeepers who were luring customers besides trying to avoid the donkey dung and urine and the usual dust of the souk. The friendly locals were always trying to guess where we were from, calling out ‘Konnichiwa’, ‘Japanese?’, ‘Chinese?’, or ‘Korea?’. We heard these all throughout the time we were in Morocco.
We walked back down Talaa Kebira - seriously, I’d just advise you to choose Talaa Kebira. Ignore Talaa Seghira! - to the henna shop we stopped at yesterday and had another session of henna tattoo as the henna tattoo we did yesterday had all disappeared. This time, we were happier with the outcome.
We rushed back and bought lunch to go and while we were waiting, went to search for a mosque to perform prayers. After that, we rushed back to collect our lunch orders and asked Said to help get a petit taxi for us back to the parking near Dar Melody.
Bernard was waiting for us and maybe it was my imagination but he didn’t look to happy with us (it was well after 2 pm after all). We went back to Dar Melody, fetched our bags and went back to the parking area. He drove us to the train station and we rushed to get the ticket to Marrakesh. The purchase finally done, we rushed to the gate, bade farewell to Bernard and rushed for the train – which had to be on another platform but of course. Sod’s law. So we went down and up the stairs and ran for the first class carriage. Before long, I felt as if my lungs were bursting so we just got on the train and walked up to the first class from the second class. We had barely collapsed into our seats when the train pulled away from the station. Phew!
We spread out on the seats and napped away. The train filled up as the journey progressed and after Casa Oasis (one of the stations in Casablanca), we were joined by other passengers.
Our 1450 train was supposed to reach Marrakesh at 2205 and I started panicking when I realised it was already 2225 and the train was still running. I had every reason to be panicked: I did after all miss a station in Sri Lanka because unbeknown to Andrea and me, we were on an express train. We had to return back to our intended station by bus.
Lin asked the girl next to her and she assured us we had not yet reached Marrakesh. Great, I thought, so trains don’t run on time in Morocco. And just as we neared Marrakesh (well, most passengers were getting ready to disembark), the train stopped. In the middle of nowhere. After a few minutes, we found out the reason for this: the train had hit someone. Yikes. ‘Looks like we’ll arrive after midnight after all,’ I whispered to Lin: we had purposely chosen to leave Fès at 1450 rather than at 1650 because we would only reach Marrakesh after midnight if we took the latter train.
After what seemed an eternity, the train moved again. We all broke into relieved smiles and were so happy when we reached Marrakesh train station. We took a petit taxi to our guesthouse, Dar Khmissa. We did reach the guesthouse around midnight. Thankfully the (slightly camp) chap who opened the door didn’t scold us for our late arrival. I apologised and quickly explained the reason for our late arrival. It had been a long day indeed.
I shall stop here on that note.
To be continued
~~~~~~~~
It was Robin van Persie vs Nicklas Bendtner yesterday and RvP’s Oranje needed Dutch Courage to win by two goals. The Blue Samurai beat the Cameroons and The Italian Job was not executed well when the Azzurri only managed a draw with Paraguay.
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