We ended up fixing our mistake and putting ourselves back on track. From Kenitra, we got on the 6:35am train heading to Fez, and got off 2 hours later at 8:30am.
That was when Lonely Planet fails us again. It said that there would be a left luggage facility at the train station where we could drop off our bags. Unfortunately, this would be completely untrue: there does NOT exist a left luggage facility at the train station. You have to head to the bus station for that.
So we hailed 3 cabs to the bus station, 1-2 people to a cab (the unique thing about Morocco is that there is a limit of 3 people to a cab…they don’t try to stuff like an Indian rickshaw). There was then a slight scare trying to get the group together as the cabs dropped us off in 3 separate locations around the bus station.
When the group saw that the left luggage facility in the bus station was a dark, dank room that was in serious disrepair and suffering from overcapacity, the group decided to look for a hostel to drop off our stuff. So we turned up the charm:
So we dropped off our bags and listened over mint Moroccan tea (referred as “Moroccan whiskey”) as the guesthouse owner lectured us about moral failings of the current generation of Moroccans (yeah, not your typical “good morning nice to meet you, and welcome to Morocco” conversation).
After 30 minutes of nodding our heads, we headed out into Fez’s medina. Fez’s medina, which is the largest in the world. The allure is to get lost among the narrow and winding alleyways of countless open air shops and food stalls, and take it all in as daily life unfolds around you as it has been for countless centuries:
There’s really not much “must-sees” in the medina except for a recently restored University of al-Karaouine, the oldest continually running university in the world:
But I personally thought the tanneries of Fez was a much more worthwhile diversion:
Below is us trying to find the stairways to see the tanneries from above. I could try to tell you how to get there, but ultimately you’ll ask for directions anyway:
Part of medina life are the children that run about, dodging tourists like motorcycles in traffic.
And don’t forget about the food.