I slept very well in the comfortable bed, but Kuniko said she tossed and turned during the night. It might be a sign that she finally has gotten enough sleep. Good news!
After the comfortable bed and very modern shower we went downstairs to get some breakfast. There was a dining room with some guests, but we didn’t see any staff, so we just picked a table and started grazing through the food. There were some interesting breads/pancakes, harissa (yum), tomatoes, jams and plenty of hot coffee. There were some other delicious foods too, but it was a little hard to identify them as they were unlabeled.
Eventually a staff member came by and offered to cook us some eggs – yes, please! Around us the other guests were whispering like we were eating in a library. Where was that whispering last night while I was trying to sleep? Just kidding – it was a very peaceful breakfast, though.
We went back to our room and packed up our stuff, and then we went to take the elevator downstairs. It was a tiny elevator so Kuniko used the stairs while I and the suitcase waited patiently for the elevator to come up. Despite pressing the button it never showed up, so after a few minutes I gave up and carried the suitcase down the narrow and slightly dangerous steps. But in the end we checked out, and everything was fine. The bill was a little pricey, but I was very satisfied with the stay – very comfortable.
Thanks to our walk last night we knew the best way to get to the station, and there were far fewer people on the streets this early in the morning. At the station we showed our electronic tickets to a police officer who let us beyond the gates. We went down some long staircases, and started waiting on the platform. It was cold down there, and overall the temperature so far was a little colder than I expected. Luckily we had plenty of layers beneath our jackets.
The train ended up being delayed. Announcements were in Arabic and French so we couldn’t figure out much, but eventually the train arrived about 15 minutes late. Apparently late trains are pretty common around here – something difficult to get used to after coming from very punctual Japan. While the train pulled in we noticed that our carriage was at the end – so we did a mad dash to get there before the train left again. We made it in time though, and found our compartment. Two people were already on board, one of them sleeping, and I put our suitcase up above us and settled in for the ride.
As we left Rabat the train ran mainly through dark tunnels under the city, and eventually emerged into a foggy countryside. Soon the fog started burning off, and the train was moving pretty fast for a regular train – it wasn’t high speed rail fast but it felt like maybe they were trying to catch up with the original schedule.
It took a couple of hours to get to Fes, through mostly desert and empty spaces. We sometimes saw a village in the distance, the occasional donkey and plenty of scattered junk/trash. Near the end of the ride a guy sat next to me, and suddenly introduced himself (Mohammed) and asked where we were from. When he heard Japan he showed me lots of pictures of a family member living in Japan. He offered his services as a tour guide while we were in Fes, and I politely declined. He stuck with us for a while though, but luckily he gave up once we got off the train and walked through Fes station.
Kuniko and I had made the decision to set up a driver to pick us up and take us to our hotel which was beyond walking distance from the train station. It was nice to find the driver and go right to his car, rather than thread the needle of all the suspiciously friendly taxi drivers that lined the street outside the station. I had heard that taxi drivers tended to disable the meter and quote outrageous sums, and that they had worked together to kick out any ridesharing companies like Uber and Bolt. That made it the Wild West for taxi rides, and it was nice to pay a little money and bypass the (potential) stress.
The driver wasn’t too far to the medina, where the car suddenly stopped and met staff from our hotel. The staff took our suitcase and started walking down a narrow alley, so we followed him and luckily could read the name of our riad on the back of his uniform. Our riad was called Le Grand Calazaar, and I think it would have been hard for us to find on our own. We were able to check in immediately, and the staff prepared for us a welcome drink of hot mint tea with some cookies. We sipped the tea in a grand room – the hotel was beautifully decorated in tile and artistic touches. It was much more traditional than the previous riad and I took quite a few photos during our stay.
Our room was again on the top floor so there were a lot of steps to get up there. Luckily the staff lugged our suitcase up the steps. Our room was beautifully decorated in a traditional style, smaller than our previous room, and really cold. I had read previously that Morocco winters could be tough inside the riads – this room was almost icy. We closed the windows for starters, and then went out onto the sunny rooftop to enjoy views of the city and the mountains in the distance. It was a great place to warm up, but we were thinking ahead to how cold everything was going to be later once the sun went down.
So from there we decided to go take a look around the Fes medina. Our riad was within the old town area, but not in the center. This allowed us to dip into the busy area when we wanted but also come back to the relative quiet in the area around our place. The medina was more touristy, livelier, and narrow than our previous experience in Rabat. There were shops lining every street, pretty aggressive vendors competing for our attention, and of course plenty of cats roaming the narrow streets. Some vendors were grilling skewers that smelled fantastic, and shops were filled with colorful goods to catch the eye of people walking by.
Every now and then young men with meticulously sculpted hairstyles would offer advice (for free?) on which direction we should go. They would walk with us, asking us where we were from, and giving us information that we didn’t ask for, making a simple wander turn into a slightly stressful walk. As soon as you escaped one guy there would be another one waiting at the next block.
Using the GPS on our phone was essential – you truly could get lost in a matter of moments. Sometimes the narrow walls interfered and had us make wrong turns – then the “guides” would insist that we should have trusted them rather than the map. Eventually we decided to head back to the hotel and get some rest before going out again for dinner. We found our way there, but our room was still super cold, so we sat on the roof at a table and tried to warm up.
I was starting to develop a cold, which felt unfair since I had just gotten over a cold before we left for this trip. Expecting that my antibodies from the previous cold would still be in effect – but this was a completely different bug. I thought it might be a good idea to get some rest, so I tucked myself into our bed with plenty of layers, and tried to stay warm. It was just after I got in bed that I noticed above the door to our room – is that a… that’s an air conditioner! Hallelujah … it saved our lives. We promptly set it to 32 degrees C and waited eagerly for it to kick on. It took a while but it started running, although we didn’t feel any appreciable change for another hour or so.
For dinner we went back out, and found a place that looked good online. It was called Dar Khabya – a tiny place specializing in traditional Moroccan food. I liked the colorful decor, and the overly-talkative owner guided us through the overly-complex menu system, but in the end we could order just what we wanted. We started with mint lemonades, then a plate full of olives, harira soup (with a few pieces of candied fried dough), and a lamb kefta and egg tajine. The food was great – the hot food especially hit the spot.
The owner was busy trying to line up more customers, touting his food and TripAdvisor rating to potential customers. A Canadian couple negotiated for a reservation for six people later on, and watching that provided our dinner entertainment. The owner was also a little curt with his kitchen staff (a young woman) – hopefully they weren’t married…
Back to the hotel to try to rest and enjoyed the leftover Turkish Airlines chocolate and snacks that we didn’t eat on the plane. It was a nice moment to sit up there as the sun crept down, looking over the city and the taste of chocolate on our tongue. I took some photos of the evening horizon as the cold started to set in, but by the time we returned to our room the heater was kicking in. I’m glad that I’m not the one paying the electric bill this time. We went to bed early to help fight off me cold – can’t believe that tomorrow is Christmas Day.
