Moroccan Musings – To Conform or Not Care…
As soon as Rosie stepped out of the taxi from the airport into the bustling, dusty, beige square in Fes, Morocco, I didn’t feel comfortable.
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As soon as Rosie stepped out of the taxi from the airport into the bustling, dusty, beige square in Fes, Morocco, I didn’t feel comfortable.
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Rosie and The Operator have arrived in The Blue City of Chefchaouen in Morocco and are eager to explore this beautiful rural town of 45,000 that sits perched high above the valleys on the slopes of the Riff Mountains.
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Rosie and The Operator caught the early morning bus from Fes to Chefchaouen, The Blue City, high up in the Riff mountains. The trip was a revelation of lush green rolling landscape for as far as the eye could see.
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The Fes Medina Leather Tannery…you smell them long before you see them. The sharp, acrid, nose hair shriveling stench of piss….aged piss, that is, ripened by the sunshine.
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Wandering around the narrow labyrinth that is the 1200 year old Fes Médina you come across the most amazing buildings built into the warren of alleyways. These buildings are mosques, museums and schools, sitting side by side with shops, workshops and homes.
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