Having tootled around more than a few souks and medinas, did we really need to “do it again”, albeit in a different city? Would this be any different?
The guide for our trip into Fes today comes courtesy of yet another Monsieur Phut-phut. He pulls up along side us at traffic lights. Looks across. Smiles. Shouts “Welcome”. Seems the entrance to Diamante Vert camp site moved two years ago. He knows where the new entrance is. “Follow me”. How kind! Once deposited, it seems he has a “brother” who is an official guide. We agree to a 10.30am pick up tomorrow morning. The term “brother” we learn later is a reference to “brother in Islam”. Our Monsieur Phut-phut, it turns out, is one of many employed by our guide to seek out and capture! All for a small finder’s fee.
A knock on Beastie’s door yesterday evening sowed small doubts in our mind as to whether our arranged guide would in fact be legit. It’s the camp site rep trying to recruit as many willing tourists on a guided trip into town. Heavy frown and head shaking, implying we didn’t do good. As it turns out we did and he is 100% legit.
Abdullah greets us at exactly 10.30am as arranged. He has a “petit taxi” with him. These are taxis only licenced to work exclusively within their named town or city. So there can be no misunderstanding and because we’re more wise now, we lay down the law with Abdullah. We tell him we want this to be a sightseeing trip with information. It’s not a shopping trip. We do not expect him to take us to visit his special contacts.
First port of call is a high vantage point. We get to see the lovely setting of Fes and get to know which of it’s three parts we’ll be going into.
Back down at ground level, the beautiful Garden Jnan sbil whet’s our appetites even more. It wouldn’t be out of place back home in National Trust land.
Abdullah, who is fifty-eight, tells us he’s been an official guide for twenty-two years. Previously he’d been an unofficial guide until he’d got caught and spent a few days behind bars.
We follow Abdullah into the Medina. He’s walked the 9,000 plus streets and alleyways so many times he could do it in his sleep. He delivers a wealth of information. We pepper him with questions of our own. Not just about Fes. He’s open to discuss and answer many things. All with a good sense of patience and humour.
At our request, we halt at this weaver’s stall. He gives us a demo. He’s very proud of his designs. He has a good eye for detail. He also has a very good eye for a potential sale too. A red silk and cotton table cloth takes our fancy. His bidding starts at 850 dirham. Ours at 500. He comes down 50. We go up 50. He thinks that’s funny to copy him. He gets it. He comes down to 700. We go up another 50. Not what he expected. He’s not played Pontoon. We’re sticking. “650 he suggests”. 600 or no sale. A pause. Then it’s a done deal. Smiles all round. We learn later from Abdullah that he wanted to start the bidding at 1400 dirham and that Abdullah had sternly advised him against that.
There are very certain advantages of a guide. Take this door for example. In fact it’s the entrance to two homes. Two door knockers. Each with their own distinct sound. The hand of Fatima, top right on many doors, wishes a good luck blessing on all who enter and leave.
Then it’s off to the famous Chouara Tannery. We’re each handed a stalk of fresh mint on entry. Apparently the stink is unpleasant. We don’t need it. Our nostrils are made of sterner stuff. We get handed over to another guide. Twenty years Abdullah’s junior. He explains everything clearly.
Hides still processed using traditional methods. It’s run on a co-operative basis. Generations of families working their four vats for the good of all. It’s piecemeal wages. The more hides you process the more you earn. Simple and fair. Inside the co-op shop, Mary-Ann is interested in a super soft lambskin handbag. Guaranteed waterproof. It’s more than that though. Our tannery guide takes a cigarette lighter to its surface. Leaves not a mark. Another sale. Another “deal”.
Time is running away with us. We’re impressed with Abdullah’s stamina. It’s Ramadan. No water. No food. Apart from one short sit down for freshly squeezed orange juice, we haven’t stopped. We give him a hint. Abdullah’s on a mission though. “You can do Ramadan with me. It will be good for you!” We’ve had a really fun and interesting time with him. We think it’s been the same for him too. He relents and takes us for a minty tea. It’s a swanky place. We go to pay. Too late Abdullah has.
During our five and a half hours in Fes we learned a lot (or rather got to be told a lot – and now have forgotten a lot) about the city and it’s history. Abdullah learned a lot too. He learned how to put up with my incessant questions. At one point near the end of our visit, when we were all feeling tired, I asked him how an unfamiliar vegetable was cooked. “Do you have this in England?” – “no” – “then why do you want to know? You’re never going to cook it!”. And he didn’t tell me. It was the perfect answer. We all cracked up.
