Piano Piano!

The language skills of the little kids here amaze me. I guess when your parents throw you out on the street and you're amongst tourist everyday, you sink of swim. 

And they are dressed so crazy. Like this little guy we met today. Jeans tucked into pink socks and hot pink Crocs. Maybe he's leading the latest trend among Moroccan boys age 5-7?

Today a group of little boys--always boys, never girls--approached us. First in French. Then they switched to Spanish. Then German. It was cute. They probably the basic in about 10 languages (so jealous!) So finally I say to them in Italian, "I don't speak French." Silence. We thought--awesome! They don't speak any Italian, they will leave us alone. Yeah. 

Then one little boy, bursts out, in perfect Italian with accent and all, "Italiano piano, piano!"  I laughed so hard.

Back in my element in Fes

I feel like a real experienced Moroccan traveller now. We navigated the Fes medina flawlessly, negotiating parking with ease, and found Riad Fes without paying  a little kid one. single. dirham.

The medina of Fes is mostly souks....and the are narrow and steep. Many more tourists here. It's interesting to notice the subtle and not so subtle differences between the three cities of RAK, RBA, and FES. FES is def less orthodox--more Western clothes, more tourists, but still have an authentic feel to it. Olives and nougat seem to be the prized gems here.

And because I am such a hotel junkie, I have to comment on Riad Fes: it's wonderful. I'm definitely back in my element at this amazing 26 room Relais & Chateaux property. The Junior Suite on the second floor (I have my own private stairway up to the suite) is huge. The all white marble bathroom alone is bigger than the room at the riad in RAK! Dinner at the restaurant--complete with Moroccan wine (finally some alcohol!) was amazing. The house speciality is a lamb dish tossed in smoked onion jam with roasted potatoes--called L'hame M'hamer. Yummy. And the wine made it even better.

Campari, meet your African Cousins...

There are more cats in this country than Rome. Really.

Observation on Fridays

Who gets kicked out of a cemetery? Me. Had I taken advantage of "Black Friday" and gone to the souk FIRST, maybe leisurely strolling through the cemetery may have been more acceptable?

I *think* Fridays here are special. All of the ladies seem to wear darker colors today, the streets are not as crowded (maybe the ladies are at home making couscous and the men are at the mosque?), and every restaurant--even the pizzeria and burger joints--serve couscous.

To celebrate this special day, I purchased a jellaba and head scarf, experienced a Moroccan hammam (more later on how this compares to the Turkish ones), and endulged in a real Friday dinner of couscous (with lamb). 

My new look

I have to say, that only after a few hours in Rabat, I already like it better than Marrakech. It's smaller, less chaotic, cleaner, and the people don't hassle you! So lovely!

I reserved my first "hammam" for tomorrow. And tomorrow is Friday--"Couscous Day." (I guess it's the equivalent of Sunday Spaghetti Day). Regardless, I'm super excited.  I've learned that couscous is best served in the riads--not in a restaurant, as it is a made-to-order dish, made mostly for family/friends.

And speaking of riads, Riad Kalaa is beautiful! It's an old 1815 riad--a townhouse built around a central courtyard--with a rooftop terrace and swimming pool. I thought Riad La Terrasse des Olivers in RAK was great--this one is better. And I *know* the riad in Fes will be spectacular as it is a Relais & Chateaux property (oh la la!)

And to celebrate couscous day tomorrow, I'll buy a proper Moroccan jellaba. I tried one on today...and I shouldn't be surprised that the "one-size-fits- all" theory, (again) doesn't apply to me. But I will make do, as they do not come in children sizes and I don't have time for alterations.

Enzo's middle name may be Bab

Bab means "door or gate." There are tons of "babs" and they are often used as landmarks. "Go to Bab Doukkala and turn left." 

The word has kinnda of grown on me...and when given directions today, all I could say was "bab, bab, bab, bab"....the Moroccan guy in front of me just turned around and gave me the strangest look.

Happy Thanksgiving from Rabat!

While all my friends and family are cooking turkeys and feasting, I am driving from RAK to RBA! The highways were quite empty and surprisingly easy to navigate. For the first time in three days I didn't feel like the mouse. We made the trip in less than 3 hours and saw some cool scenery. Although it was a two lane (going each way) I swear drivers in Morocco think there is just one lane. They want to straddle the the lanes and take up both--not easy to pass this way!

At one gas stop we came upon a tour bus (ugh!) filled with US senior citizens nonetheless. Anja comes out of the bathroom, "There are trendy American women in there." I go in, and the "trendy" lady says to me, "we are from Arizona." I proceed to ask her where they have been, and then ask her what her favorite Moroccan city has been. She mentioned they were going to Casablanca and had already been to Rabat. But her favorite city has been "Morocco." Wow. I'll just keep speaking in Italian...

Being the "expert Moroccan travellers" now, we arrive in RBA, find a parking spot, refuse to pay 50 dh (the going rate is 20dh), and ward off all the men who "only want to be nice and show us to our riad."  Yeah, yeah yeah we know the drill. You only want to help us--and then you will demand euros! "We find it ourselves. Merci!"

I wonder what my Thanksgiving dinner will be....couscous? A nice lamb tangine? We shall see...