Fez: Wandering in the Medina

I felt better after a long sleep and breakfast. I’ve never been so ravaged by jet lag in my life, but then I’ve never flown direct to London that way before.

We decided to walk to the Merenid tombs above the city, but made it to the gate before realising it was way too hot to tackle the walk, so instead we kept heading along Talaa Kebira – one of the two main east-west ‘alleys’ through the medina – until we found a small place called Café Clock, a very groovy little cafe/resturant run by a Brit and hidden up a narrow covered alley. Had orange juice and a smoothie and sat on the roof terrace. Great place.

Then we headed back to the Roumana – armed with a better map we found it without too much trouble this time – and paid our bill and said goodbye to the wonderful and helpful Jesse (we had to move as they had no rooms free after this date). A guide from Dar Attajali came to take us to our new digs (nearby, but a bit closer to Talaa Kebira and deeper into the medina). There, we were welcomed by Cleo, the German owner – very friendly and talkative – and while our room was being prepared, we sat on the roof terrace and chatted about her experiences renovating the place over two and a half years.

Once settled in our new room, we headed back out into the medina, back west and to Café Clock again, for lunch on the roof. I indulged in the not-very-Moroccan fare of a steak sandwich and hot chips.

Then we walked south, more confident with our new map, and found the Musee Batha, a 19th century summer palace now converted into one of those dusty old museums with crumbling exhibits, but a nice quiet respite from the madness outside.

(I’m behind again in my writing – it’s now Saturday in Chefchaouen.)

By now I was getting my bearings – well, up and down the two main alleys, Talaa Kebira and Talaa Seghira anyway, which both head east downhill from the Bab Bou Jeloud (Blue Gate) at the western edge of the medina. Of course these are the two main tourist tracks as well, and lined with little shops and stalls selling everything from camel meat to Chinese plastic watches. It’s about half a kilometre or more from the Gate back to Dar Attajali. 

Back on the roof of our dar we had tasty sweet, minty Moroccan tea and met some other travellers – a lovely English couple, an American couple, and a rather annoying young American girl who seemed to be travelling the world on a huge trust fund. The sun set, and I put aside my initial plan to update this diary and talked instead.

We weren’t yet feeling like a big dinner so we walked to a place nearby called Fez Lounge, a strange little place decorated like a tacky Western nightclub. But the food was OK and we didn’t stay long. At least my jet lag was finally going away. An early night.