After an afternoon on the bus from Chefchaouen, we arrived in Fes at dusk. Andrew had directions that specifically said: “Do not get out of your petit taxi unless you are in front of the hotel.” I didn’t know this. I thought the name Andrew gave me, to tell our driver, was the name of the area of the medina where we were going to walk through. (Cars aren’t allowed – can’t fit – inside the medina walls, where our hotel was located) I was busy practicing French, assuring our driver that we would walk to our hotel from where he dropped us off. Meanwhile, Andrew was thinking I told him the name of the hotel we were supposed to get out in front of… It was a bi-lingual mess, that we (I?) somehow managed to get ourselves into.
We walked through the maze of the medina in Fes, asked for directions, walked the wrong way (I thought he said turn right, when he actually said walk straight) then doubled back until we finally found the hotel that we were supposed to originally get dropped off at, but not where we were to stay. Our hotel was around two corners from that hotel. See? See how it could be confusing?
We found it. We were delighted when we discovered that the “hostel” was nearly empty and we could have our choice from three different non-dorm rooms! One even had a bathtub! No outside windows, but a clean bathtub! Guess which one we chose?
We walked around the medina and even outside of the walls where we stumbled upon a huge kind of flea market? I looked at a few pairs of used shoes, but didn’t find any in my size that I liked.
