Saturday, I walked 10.81 miles, or roughly five times what the average American walks in a day. My travel companions and I hiked ourselves all over Fez.
We started at the ruins of tombs from the Merenid Dynasty, which lasted from 1248-1400. Very little is known about the tombs and not much of them are left standing, but they were incredible. The hill climbed to see the ruins provides a beautiful vista overlooking Fez and the surrounding farmlands. Once again, my trip was blessed with excellent timing as we happened upon shepherds there. We chatted with a family visiting their father's home country and a local. As usual, the local began by chatting with us about the weather, told us about his seven kilometer trek to the market each day, and then tried to sell us hats, yarmulke, blankets, and coin purses. We thanked him and asked only for rough directions to Ibn Danan Synagogue.
It was quite a walk to the Ibn Danan Synagogue. On our way there, we came upon the only traffic light we saw throughout our four days in Fez. It wasn't until we saw the light that we noticed we hadn't seen any others, and from then on, we were hyperaware of the seeming lack of traffic laws. After crossing at the light, I spotted a beautiful park established by the Fondation Mohammed VI pour la Protection de l'Environnement. Walking through this park was the first time I'd seen "wild" bamboo. A man in the park offered to lead us to the Ibn Danan Synagogue and Jewish cemetery, but my companions and I had all been warned against false guides. We spent several minutes refusing his offers before we walked away outright. As we walked the city streets, false guides continued to offer their services. Over and over, we rejected the guides and asked directions from people on the street. We eventually ended up paying a young girl to guide us. She wound up through the streets and to vistas, making us pay our hosts along the way. As we walked, I asked where she'd bought the popsicle she was eating. After explaining to me that her sister made them, she handed me the treat. Not being a germaphobe, I went ahead and tried it. If that popsicle was homemade, the girl's sister a genius because that thing tasted exactly like a creamsicle. Between the guide and paying those that offered us views, the synagogue and cemetery cost us $8. I never would've found neither the cemetery nor the synagogue on my own- plus, I got a popsicle out of the deal- so I felt this was fair.
By then it was late in the day, so we headed to the medina for lunch at the internationally renowned Café Clock. Along the way, we saw a meat stand with a camel's head hanging from the ceiling. My eyes bugged. I hadn't though about it before, but of course you could eat camel. We ran into our guide from the previous day's tour, and she seemed happy to see us. It was comforting to see her and her joy reinforced how welcoming the city seemed. At lunch, I had a camel burger. It felt right considering the earlier meat stand sighting and the improbability of coming across such an opportunity again. The camel burger tasted and had a texture surprisingly similar to a black bean burger, if a bit chewier. I also had what was called a milkshake, but was more like a scoop of ice cream floating in chocolate milk. The chocolate was richer than chocolate at home, though, so the shake was still delicious.
After lunch, we did some shopping through the medina. I picked up some small souvenirs for myself and my family, and paced the streets some as my roommate, Lyssie, shopped for scarves. All was going well until Lyssie was backed against a wall by three men trying to sell her on a scarf. I felt uneasy and intimidate after this, but Lyssie seemed fine, so I told myself I was overreacting.
We rested in the room for a while afterwards. At first I was glad to rest, but then I felt stir-crazy. I was on a new continent to which I probably wouldn't return for quite some time. I wanted to spend every moment possible out experiencing this strange new world. I was also starting to tire of social interaction. As an ambivert, I'd run out of extroverted energy and needed a break. We walked to dinner, but I wasn't really hungry and I was cranky from too much social interaction, so I decided to walk back to the riad while my friends ate.
The restaurant was only two blocks away. I was about a third of the way back when it started. "Salaam! Bonjour! Mademoiselle! Hola!" I ignored the calls and maintained my pace. I wasn't feeling social. "Hello! Baby, come here! Mademoiselle!" I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as I sped up. He kept coming. I was two-thirds of the way to the riad. The volume of his voice told me he was gaining on me. "Where's your husband, miss? Hello! Come back here!" I walked more quickly still.
I squeezed between an elderly woman with a cane and the wall. I had to walk down a poorly lit alley to get to the riad. The sun had gone down. I knew the alley would be dark. As I turned into the alley, I saw it was empty. Dismayed, I hurried towards the riad.
The man kept coming, kept yelling. I knew to get in the riad, I'd have to ring the bell and wait for someone to answer the door. I knew the man was too close. I knew he'd catch up. I turned the corner and the riad door was in sight. Outside, one of the riad's employees was smoking. I quickened my pace still. The man kept coming.
The employee looked up when he heard the man's voice. He saw me practically running. He saw the man following. He whipped out his key and unlocked the door, allowing me to slip inside before the man could catch me.
Shaking, I returned to my room. Knowing I didn't have phone service, I tried using Facetime, Facebook Messenger, Skype, anything to call my mom to calm me down. It wouldn't connect. The wifi wasn't strong enough. I sat alone for what felt like ages, but couldn't have been more than two minutes. I continued to shiver strongly as I walked downstairs and ordered tea. I told myself that it was okay. That worse happened in the U.S. every day and this was only scary because it was a foreign country.
My friends returned to the riad just as I finished my tea and we all went upstairs together. They'd been so kind as to bring me a chocolate bar, which did me more good than they knew. I asked to be alone for a while and they took their food down to the dining room. I spent the time regaining control of my trembling hands and shallow breathing.
I ended Saturday feeling lucky. I was lucky to have traveled to Morocco, especially with people who were so caring and organized. I was lucky to have found exactly what I wanted for souvenirs. But most of all, I was lucky to have that employee be outside when I returned to the riad.
Until next time.