Fez in fourty eight

To celebrate Isabella' birthday, aka her turning an odd year that she doesn't want to celebrate, we booked a spontaneous and brief trip to Fez, 22 euro round trip. Morocco is so close to Spain, but when you are there is feels like another planet.

Last time in Morocco we took a taxi from the airport, that was not a taxi, and he drove us about 10 minutes away and made us change into a friends car. . . terrifying, but we were fine, doing things under the table seems to be a common theme. So this time we swore we were going to only take the red petit taxi suggested by the book, but ended up getting another random car. . . this man however, was amazingly helpful, giving us tips of things to do while we were here, calling our accommodations to have someone come and pick us up from outside the Medina. A far cry from the Casablanca experience, this boded well for Fez.

We met out "little man," as Isa like to call him, outside of the Medina. The Medina is a pedestrian and donkey only labyrinth of narrow streets. It is the largest Medina in the world, and the most terrifying place at night, small passageways, darkly lit, sneaky little doorways. The Medina is a place where anyone can get lost. . . even a little GPS like me.
Our accommodations were anything but modest. We oped for a newly renovated palace, the Dar Bensuela. We were giddy by the site of it, a middle courtyard that looks up to the sky, flower pedal laden beds, fancy modern shower, beautiful mosaic and giant old wooden doors. It can only be described as incredible perfection. We had dinner downstairs by the fireplace, more than we could eat, each bite better than the one before.

Since we had only 48 hours, we knew that we had to see as much as we could on Saturday, we hired a guide for a half day (we are sure now, the only way to get around the maze that is the Medina), he showed up an hour late, but was great and friendly from there. He took us to see fountains, mosaics, the oldest university in the Medina, a tannery, to see the kings palace. . . such wonders around every corner. The donkeys were the most terrifying part, the streets are so narrow two people can hardly walk side by side, and then out of nowhere, a Donkey comes barreling down the street. I was hit more than once. None of the aggression of Marrakesh, and a lot more charm. The guide was great for most of the day, until he decided he liked me. . . at which time he asked such questions as "Have you ever tried love?" and said "The man that gets to massage you is lucky." He invited me to get henna the next day, but I politely declined.

Our last day in Fez, Said, the Palace's go-to man, arranged for us to go out shopping with "the little man." The prices in Fez were much higher than in Marrakesh, we think they are not used to tourists so they price everything so high to start, the only good deal we found, was on these decorated pair of ballet flats. Then we went to a Hamam, or bath house, the floor was so hot we couldn't sit down or stand up. . . the steam was suffocating and the scrub harsh. . . tortuous spa day. Back at the palace, Said arranged for us to have Henna, we went to the roof that overlooked the Medina and with a tray of rose petals, had our hands decorated in delicate patterns. I am already trying to figure out when I can go back.