About Me

Name: Laura

Hong Kong by birth,

Melbourne by occasion,
Sydney in mind,
London unplanned,
Christian by grace

Archives

August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006

Links


One Stop Visa check
DFAT <

Randomnations

- iced cafe americano is my new favourite

- our kitchen is at an all time mess

- jetting in two weeks

- going to be reading more articles/cases over the next two weeks than I have in the last four years in australia

Reflections

Psalm 36:9 For with you is the fountain of life: in your light shall we see light

Other Travel Blogs


India

'Last-minute' Things-to-do List

'cultural' excursions

British Musuem/Tate Britain

greeneries

Regent's Park

shopping

None

food

Cakes at Yauatcha/ Tea set at Selfridges/ Mr Jerk/Yum Cha in Chinatown for the last time

nightlife

Cocktails at The Dorchester/ Drinks at Hakkasan/Comedy Cafe in Shoreditch

west-end theatre

Phantom of the Opera/ We Will Rock You

places to revisit

Tate Modern

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Nothing is better than writing on a long journey ride. Im on the bus on route to Fes. Im excited. My guidebook, one however I have lost some faith for, describes Fes as the most ancient of the Imperial capitals and a place that seems to exist suspended in time somewhere between the Middle Ages and the modern world. Guaranteed to stimulate my senses? I think so.

The bus has just made a stop at some town, whose name I dont know. Oh wait. We pass a road sign. It reads Ouezzane. I recognize it as a town close to Chaouen, a mere hour away. Is that all we have travelled...it felt longer. I copy the arabic script. But unfortunately, its too difficult or impossible for me to type it here. I look out of my window and I see a swarm of men crowded around the bus. The men are wheeling empty wooden carts. Im confused. I realize they are in fact porters offering their services to cart luggage for people. Only a few passengers get off. Too bad. Only one porter was used. He carts away the bags and two people follow. The other porters turn away. I see them waiting and preying for another bus. An old woman just got on the bus. I realize she is a begger, her hand outstretched, and mumuring something. The man in front of me hands over a few coins. The man opposite me declines to give. I think its my turn now. At first, she seemed to walk pass me. Do I look so uncompassionate? Ah she then turns to me with her head tilted and her hand stretched out. I instinctively reach into my bag for a plastic bag. I broke off a banana for a bunch of a mere two and hand it over to her. For a second, I thought she will reject it. But she took it under her arm and continued on. I dont remember who or where I picked this habit of giving food rather than money. but it was definitely in India. I try to think hard. I remember two events. I was eating at an outdoor food vendor, and I remember seeing a tourist offering to buy meals for two apparently improvished persons. Another time, well on repeated occassions, I recall Ashok, my friend of many years, would give biscuits to street children when they pressed him for money. In India, begging is all too prevalent. Just walking on the street or riding a rickshaw or tuk tuk you will get confronted by women carrying their babies asking for money and if failing that, they ask for milk (either they say they want to money for the milk, or the tourist goes and buys milk). The sad truth is, the milk gets immediately resold to vendors and they keep part of the money. The other sort of scam you get is the one-pen-please scams. I had read this one somewhere and have been asked by numerous kids myself. Basically kids approach you for a pen. Of course, one would think a pen is useful and educational. but like the milk, it gets resold. It shows how sophisticated begging has developed in India. And that is already mild scams. Scams on a larger scale such as gem scams cheat tourists of great amounts of money.

Oh, I desperately need the toilet. Ive been ignoring my bladder for a while. I also cant stop drinking. My mouth and throat is dry. This trip is supposed to be four hours, but after yesterdays trip I have great doubts. The road we are travelling on today is in poor condition. Its not paved but yet the bus is travelling at a high speed making it an uncomfortable ride and further exacerberating my need to go to the loo. Would the bus actually not stop? I have never taken a four to five hour bus ride in a developing (I say that because in UK and Australia, the W.C. is on the bus) country. In india, ive only ever taken 7-8 hr bus rides and they only had one stop. Oh no, I dont think im going to last. Oh wait, the bus is slowing down. The bus is stopping as we speak now. Whew.

What a day. I dont even know where to begin. Okay, thats untrue because I have given account of my bus ride above from Chaouen to Fes. BUT I had NO idea what I was in for when I got into Fes. I took the 1pm bus leaving Chaouen and we got to Fes around 5pm. Fine. It was still light and thought Ill check into a nice riad, to treat myself since its my birthday and since I had a freezing night at last nights hostel, then walk around the old medina and find a bite. But what transpired after getting off the bus was an anguishing ordeal.

I shared a petit taxi with a Czech guy who was on the bus as well; we were both heading to the medina (the old town). We went out own ways since I was looking for Riad Louna (riads being traditional Moroccan houses built around a patio and used as a guesthouse, but which are much more pricier) and he was looking for some budget room. What a mistake. Rough Guides (RG) have a simplified map (they explained how a detailed one would be impossible since the old area is a web of alleys, blind lanes and souks....I know what they mean the moment I stepped within the walled city) of Fes el Bali (one area of the old city) and on the bus I worked out the landmarks so I would have no trouble finding it. I spent a full half an hour looking for this riad. The map was in fact inaccurate. I dont know if I should write RG with a list oftheir inaccuracies.

Anyways moving on. So after walking up and down Talaa Seghira, the road I located on the map, numerous times I found the right lane to turn off. I finally found it but alas, it was full. The owner recommended another hotel. Dismayed, I thought its going to be budget tonight after all. So, I went to Pension (means hostel/guesthouse) Talaa next door. Not even properly through the door, the man standing beside it said it was full. I glanced up the flight of steps and saw two backpackers waiting as well.

Frustrated that even a budget place was full, I tried another place recommended by RG called Hostel Lamrani. I went up the flight of steps and I was surprised to find so many backpackers. I asked the guy, who seemed to be the only person working there because his hands were full trying to serve different people. He told me no single rooms were available, only a double room which would cost 200 dirhim. Considering I stayed in Chouen for 50 dirhims I declined and left. My second mistake of the night. I reconsidered the hotel that the owner of Riad Louna had originally recommended. I thought if Im going to pay 200 plus dirhims, I may as well stay somewhere nice. So I trekked back, all the time with my increasingly heavy backpack, passing Riad Louna and trying to recall directions to Hotel Batha. I found it. It was the most standard looking hotel. The porter greeted me, bonsoir. I was confused. I was wondering what language at first. Realizing it must be french I thought, did he mean bonjour. haha my crap french. recalling my yr 9 french, a bit too late, i realize he was saying good evening. duh.

Anyways, this seemingly huge hotel was FULL. unbelievable. I was desperate now. I asked for both single and double rooms but to no luck. I was starting to get worried. I stepped out of the hotel and this random guy came up to me asking me if I was looking for a hotel. reluctant as I was to follow him, I did. We passed Pension Batha, which I recalled was in the RG. I insisted on checking. I went up the stairs thinking I am going to be in luck this time since this place seems
out of the way, but it was full. I went downstairs dismayed.

We next passed this elegant looking riad. The guy I was following was unhappy. he kept urging me to follow him. Wanting to get away from I knocked on the big wooden door and was let in. The man who was responsible for this riad was extremely kind. It didnt take long for us to both figure out this place was way out of my budget. me with my backpack looked extremely out of place at this villa. he sat me down in the beautifully decorated reception and offered to make some calls to check some pensions. I told him my upper limit is 500 dirhims (see what I mean, I should have taken the original 200 dirhim room...but it was too late as I later found out...i was getting desperate now). He came back a few minutes later and said all the places he tried were full.

I pulled out my RG and together we literally phoned each listing of pension. no kidding, everywhere was full. I was so confused. he told me it was christmas/new years time and Fes gets very busy. We went systematically through all the hostels listed around Bab Boujeloud (west of old town) and then all the cheap hostels in the Bab Ftouh area, then to more upmarket options but to no avail. I think he made around 20 calls on my behalf. we even tried this hostel which the RG had commented they have had repots of the hotel being used by prostitutes, particularly during the early hours. yea, well THAT was full. There wasnt even a need for me to decide what was my upper limit for a room because there was simply none available.

I couldnt even think of an alternative. Stay up all night? thats crazy in an arab country. plus its freezing. I asked the guy if I could leave my backpack so I could go around looking for a place more easily. He was happy to do so. I walked around aimlessly. Another guy, who apparently recognized me walking up and down the same road before, approached me and asked if I tried Hostel Campino. I said no, and he pointed to a road on the right. So I went up the road...it was long. I was about to give up but I saw a neon light at the end. I thought since I walked so far, i may as well walk to the end. And yay, the neon sign read Pension Campino. I went up the flight of steps holding my breath there was a room. The guy said there was no single room, but only a room for 4 persons which was in fact reserved. I was prepared to pay for the whole room now. But it was reserved, and there was a possibility that the people may turn up. He probably saw the frustration on my face and said he could prehaps give me a bed but not a room. Not really understanding him, he took me upstairs and pointed to a sofa in the living room. Oh great. But i accepted. it meant it would be cheaper, right. Even so, it costed me 120 dirhams. So I have a place now tonight, or lets say a half-place.

It would have been a crap end to the night if it ended there. but after collecting my bag from the kind man who had kept it aside, I dropped my bag at Pension Campino and walked back to central medina to lift up my spirits. Ive written an account of me looking for accommodation and have not given any description of Fes itself, especially the old town. leaving aside looking for pensions, the moment I got off the taxi and stepped inside the medina (taxis arent allowed) the place was BUZZING. it blew me away. I cant describe it. all my sense were ignited. the smells, the food, the colour, the lights, the people just everywhere, the music. there were outdoor cafes, terrace cafes, food vendors, shops with items spilling out selling anything from moroccan lamps, carpets, ceramics etc. It was so cool. There was so much to take in at once. but i knew i needed to find somewhere to drop my bag off and properly explore the place. So when i returned two hours later (yea, spent that long looking for a place) after dropping my bag (pension campino is a 10 min walk from the medina) I was delighted to find the place still buzzing like anything. And guess who I saw. The same guy on the bus and in the taxi with me. We joined up and grabbed a bite. what did we have? camel meat kebab! wow. honestly, not bad not bad. all we had to do was order at the butchery, the butcher cuts up the meat and passes it to his assistant who grills it in front of you. talk about fresh. anyways, so eating as we walked we took in the sights and sounds of the area. later, we grabbed a drink later. the national drink - mint tea. Its served in a tall glass, mint leaves to the brim, and is very sweet. But real good stuff. I ordered some Moroccan cake. It didnt look anything like cake. so there was my birthday cake. haha. later, Andre, the guy I had first met on the bus, brought me an Arabic pop music CD as a bday gift as we passed a vendor blaring arabic music. we were discussing what souvenirs we wanted to buy in Morocco, and all I could think of was music and photos (I dont know, but exotic things dont appeal to me as much as before..I used to love buying handpressed stationary, shawls, clothes).

Alright, I had better be off. Its nearing midnight. Byeeeeee

1:20 PM
Lura