A late departure so a leisurely breakfast, packed the baggage and deposited it in the lobby, and took off for a walk to the village one last time. There was some rain but nut enough to dampen our enthusiasm. Up the hill and along the upper one lane road to see the buildings again and watch the stalls being set for another day's trade. It’s a lovely place but streets wind as they negotiate the steep hills. A quick stroll and back to the bus for an 1100 departure.
Today we sit in the back row, so better leg room and four seats shared between the two of us, but being behind the rear wheels is bumpier and the seat is higher so vision through the window requires a solid bend.
The road down is the one we took up. There is a heavy fog to go with the occasional light rain. The views are wonderful looking back down on the blue city. There is not a lot of traffic but still progress remains slow, rarely over 60kph. And the road is as rough and potholed as the day before yesterday. Up the hill it is green and there are many trees and grasses are thick. But as we descend the land dries and the farms are more apparent. It looks like much wheat has been recently harvested and the stock harvested for hay, and chickpeas also are being harvested. Otherwise its olive groves and fruit trees, presumably peach and nectarine. In some fields are watermelons and a yellow melon with white flesh.
Some vehicles are clearly overloaded with some having overhanging loads and others so heavily laden that the suspension in the rear is bottomed out. Here are a number of roadside stalls and parked trucks selling their local produce, with massive watermelon the principle product. We noticed the heavy presence of police who, despite appearing to be working in a very law abiding community, work from police vans with steel grates across windscreen and side windows. It is also strange that a single police officer on patrol, and fully armed, is escorted by two military members in battle fatigues and holding automatic machine guns. This does not make sense from what we see.
Lunch is in the cafe we stopped at on the way up and then back to complete the 4 - 5 hour bus ride. Our destination is Fes and as we approached, we noticed the region was more productive with more of the same but far better quality land. We are told this is called the food capital of Morocco. It is a strange outlook. To our left are hills that appear bald and lifeless, but in the foreground is a substantial lake. Ahead are two distinct mountain ranges, the Rif and the Atlas, with Fes between the two. Fes is a busy city with lots of traffic and pedestrians. As we enter we go immediately from farmland to semi high rise apartments. And the apartments just keep coming. Some streets have parkland in the centre with huge shade trees, lawn and fountains.
Our accommodation is in the old city down an inconspicuous single lane street which our bus cannot access, up a secondary street, down another secondary narrow street and then along a laneway about the size of a garden path. 40 metres along is an inconspicuous double door that you knock on to gain entry, and immediately find yourself in the courtyard of the hotel. Within the courtyard is a pleasant dining area and swimming pool. Our bedroom is up 26 stairs to the first floor where our substantial room ( big but only half the size of Peter and Donna's which is incredibly grand and palatial!) and our three windows overlook the courtyard.
No time to rest. We are taken by bus to a newer area of the city to a family home where we are treated to local special cuisine of pastella (chicken pie), fresh fruit and vegetables. Bread of course. And a separate cuisine of veggies for the vegetarian group of four, which apparently was outstanding. Nice experience. Then back to our accommodation, shower and bed.
Looks beautiful 😍