Dublin :: Ireland
Swapping sunshine and medieval markets for pints of the dark stuff.
Places: Fes, Casablanca, London Heathrow and Dublin
Coolest thing I did: Watched my mate Mark attempt to cook a stir-fry whilst drunk. The fact I was also sloshed made it far funnier. Imagine a parody of US style live video shows "When pissed people cook!"
Coolest thing I didn't know: Moroccans get rid of the evil eye by roasting Chameleons. You can buy chameleons for this purpose in the market and I watched a baby one change colours in my hand.
Fes was, as I expected, Morocco on an altogether different scale. Already 700 years old when the first Moroccan state was founded it is considered one of the world's oldest surviving medieval cities. The narrow, widing streets and lanes run back and forth at acute angles to each other, a proper maze of markets, Medersas and Mosques. Like nowhere else on Earth I've been, the whole place bleeds commerce in it's purest form. Everything is for sale at the right price, and the collections of Moroccan craftwork and antiques are miles ahead of anything else in Morocco. It's like there's some hidden heart deep in the middle of the place, pumping pure retail into the veins of the old medina.
My favourite place was an antique store hidden in one of the Souq's small back streets, specialising in old books. There's something special about these (mostly incomplete) leather bound, centuries old copies of the Koran that you just don't get with old copies of Moby Dick and the like in London. Like most good things in Fes, I found the shop completely by accident. Unlike Marrakesh or Meknes, wandering the old streets can turn up an unexpected gem, something that's quite rewarding after a fortnight of touring carpet lamp shops.
I'm also glad the markets were closed on the Friday when I got there (being the Mulsim equivalent of Sunday mass) so I climbed to a ruined tomb looking over the city and was treated to a view over the whole thing. When viewed on this angle you get some idea of just how much more impressive it is than the other imperial medinas of Morocco. It also made me treat it with a bit more respect than the others. I was taking careful note of every blind corner and alley I passed down, hoping to get back to a landmark that was familiar. In both Meknes & Marrakesh I was content to just barrel through and try and find my way out by trial and error. Fes would have swallowed me alive if I'd taken that approach. I did get quite lost quite a few times, but managed to make it back to a couple of landmarks and eventually get out.
While it's arguably a good idea to keep the hordes of tourists out of the holy sites in Morocco, I was slightly disappointed not to see inside the al-Attarin Medersa right in the centre of the medina. It was considered one of the centres of learning in the old Islamic world and is one of the world's first universities. You are allowed to take a picture of the courtyard from the doorway, but I think my photo is a bit spoiled by the heads of the 30 odd German tourists blocking my view. I kind of see the Moroccan's point.
I spent alot of the time in the Ville Nouvelle, where I was staying, sitting in cafes and doing some reading. I was able to get Western press for the first time since I got to Morocco and learned such insights as the war was over and the looting had begun. Oh, and all about SARS (the Daily Express had a headline about "Killer Asian Death Flu" so I'm guessing it's now in middle England somewhere). Even though Fes had the most to see in terms of old Moroccan Medina, I felt less inclined to spend all my time in the heart of it. I was getting a bit sick of the constant hassle and was becomming quite short with everyone on the street who asked where I was from as a pitch into getting money out of me. I did, however, find out from a Japanese bloke I met in the hostel in Casa that I was quite lucky. He reckons they target the Japanese above all others, thinking them the most naive and the richest. He looked quite wrecked, even after only a week in the country.
One thing I have noted is Moroccans, for whom it is now cheaper to get a mobile phone than a landline, have all gotten mobiles in the last 18 months. In a country where about 5% actually have telephones, the GSM industry is booming. As with all countries that get mobiles overnight, they don't have the accompanying ettiquete to go with the technology. Just because your phone can play 1000 polyphonic ringtones, dosen't mean you should go through them all on the train 4 times. The number of groups of young Casablancans huddled around a cafe table all having conversations on their mobiles and ignoring each other was staggering. Being from the West, you don't realise how easily you get annoyed by this kind of behaviour. Perhaps I'm being a bit over sensitive.
So, after a couple of plane rides, here I am in rainy Dublin. I went directly to the pub to meet up with Mark, my long time uni, flat & travel mate for a few long overdue Guinesses. We downed quite a few Euros worth of the dark stuff and caught up on everything that had happened since last we saw each other in London in January. Despite the fact that not a whole lot has happened, we talked for a couple of hours about the usual nonsense. I'm starting to get to an age where I've known people certain people long enough to pick up a conversation pretty much where you left off and continue with it. When you're 20 it seems like you've just met everyone. It slowly creeps up on you that you have friends you've known for close to a decade. And I've also noticed recently that age is something you start talking about almost overnight in your mid-20s, where it would have never come up before.
I managed to lose my glasses somewhere in Morocco (good start) so I've just been to the optometrist to fork out money for an eye-test and new pair (yep, didn't carry my perscription either). It's been a pretty expensive lesson. I'll have to be a bit more careful from now on. Week 3 is a bit early to be digging into the emergency cash fund.
Right, so tomorrow I get my hire car and it's off to rural Ireland. I'm not expecting Anzac Day to be hugely celebrated, but seeing it's on a Friday, and people here need far less plausible excuses for a drink, I should find some people to commemorate with. Geniuses all round.