I'm sorry it's been a while since my last post. The last three weeks have been a whirlwind. I can't believe that my last night in Morocco is here already. Tomorrow I board a plane for Ireland, where I will be for the next 3 weeks or so. It will be a slight change of pace, to say the least. ha ha.
My last two weekends in Fes were wonderful, and both completely unique experiences that I had never expected. The weekend after the Camel Trek, my friend Melat and I decided we needed a weekend at home to recouperate and catch up on homework. We also realized that, aside from our little neighborhood (which we know very well), we hadn't really explored the city of Fes itself al that much. When we were at home we were either at school, hanging out at the villa, or visting the shops around our house to avoid cab fare.
Everyone else in the house had gone on a trip to a city I had already been to, so the house was ours (and very quiet). We slept in on Saturday and then enjoyed a nice (4 hour) stroll through the medina. We got thoroughly (but safely) lost in its winding streets and managed to find a Berber weaver. I fell in love with a silk bedspread that is the most beautiful metallic teal color, and despite the lack of room in my luggage I got it. I haven't regretted the decision, just wished I had bigger bags. ;-). The weekend was extremely relaxing, and it was a chance to enjoy the wonderful city that had been sitting under my nose for the previous three weeks.
My last weekend here Melat and I traveled to the northern coast to a small town called Assilah. It is a beautiful 15th century Portuguese walled coastal town with a medina painted all deep royal blue and white in the traditional style. We had booked a hostel that ended up being more like a bed and breakfast it was so nice, and we were the only guests, so we got some very personal attention, to say the least.
The hostel owner was out of town for the weekend, so she left her assistant, Nabile, in charge of "taking care of us". I assumed when reading the e-mail that meant making sure our breakfast was out in the morning and that we paid at the end of the weekend. I don't think I could have been more wrong! First he picked us up from the train station, then proceeded to give us a tour of the medina where he took us out to the ramparts and we were able to have a view of the Atlantic at sunset we never would have found on our own. The next day we rented a car to drive up to Tangier and this cave called Hercules' Cave that looks like a perfect cutout of Africa (including Madagascar).
Rather than just help us rent the car, he offered to drive us around for the day so that we didn't get lost. He took us to the cave first, then took us to a park at the top of a hill above Tangier where we could look straight across to Spain. We had lunch there (the most amazing lentil soup with spicy pepper sauce and chicken kabobs), then he took us to another point where we had a beautiful view of the whole city of Tangier.
We arrived back in Assilah around three and met up with one of his friends that had lived in Britain for the last 18 years. Mounir's (his friend) English was excellent. He told us that he had recently purchased a piece of land that included a private beach. He was in the process of building a bunch of resort cabins. He then took us in his Range Rover on this dirt road that definitely required 4-wheel drive for twenty minutes to this wonderfull secluded beach. We were the only people there and full enjoyed the silence and beauty for about three hours. He had a restaurant there, and we were able to watch the sunset over a cup of mint tea.
Once it was dark we headed home, did some shopping in the medina, and bought some fish to learn how to make a fish tajine from Nabile. Needless to say, the day was quite unexpected and definitely memorable. Because of another welcoming and wonderfully generous Moroccan, Melat and I were given the opportunity to see things we never would have found on our own. Because of Nabile we got a completely personalized trip that went far above and beyond anything we would have found on our own.
The next day he dropped us off at the train station, expecting no compensation for the wonderful experience he had given us. (We refused his refusal to accept at least a small tip, however.)
My last week in Fes was certainly bitter-sweet. It definitely caught me unawares. I had fully expected to have fun in Morocco, but since during the week I wasn't doing any traveling, I had expected it to go somewhat slower than it did. It's funny, but I don't think I realized fully that I was on this trip I've been planning for so long until about three weeks in! lol.
However, despite my nostalgia, I'm not going to say that I'm not ready to leave. I think it's the perfect time to head out on the rest of my adventures. There are so many things I'm going to miss (namely my friends at the villa, the vegetable market man that I buy all my produce from, and the gym that I went to three times a week), but that is the time to leave a place, when there still are things to miss.
This last week, along with the nostalgia, there has been also been a feeling of restlesness and readiness to move on. It's not the language barrier at all. I really don't have very much trouble getting what I want communicated. The people here are just tirelessly helpful and they alway let me stumble my way towards what I need without getting impatient or rude. However, my brain has taken about as much intensive Arabic as it can absorb for now. I'm really happy with how much I learned and accomplished, and now it's time to let it sink in. I am also ready to not be the only blonde girl walking around. It has been quite a surprise to me just how exhasting it is to have to ignore pretty much constant cat calls and comments when I step out the door to go anywhere. I have never felt in danger, and nothing said has ever been lude (that I can understand at least), but not responding to the neverending "hello's" and "pretty girl's" I hear is tiring. Any response always warrants more attention, and that is when trouble can start. In any case, I received my nickname at the house from one of these men: Ice Cream. It was the most creative, and I got called it by three men in one night, so the name stuck. Another something to take away from Morocco ;-).
Well, now that I've written a book, I think it's about time to sign off for now. The next time I write here I'll be in Ireland, probably meeting up with Shannah and the parents!
:-) Bye for now!
