Remnants of different centuries coexist in the Fes Medina.  Huge walls line narrow alleys.  Behind the walls are the riads, many in disrepair but some, like the one where we stayed, beautifully refurbished.  The wooden doors in the walls open into a space that leads to a large open area, a Muslim garden specifically designed in quadrants, a large fountain in the middle, and four orange trees growing around.  Our riad is owned by a Frenchman — we met him this morning at breakfast.  He bought the property 15 years ago and I could not imagine how the narrow alleys could be navigated with construction equipment.  Everything, he said, was bought in by hand cart or donkey, with cement mixed onsite. It took two years.

While the Muslim areas have open spaces in the interior, the homes in the Jewish Mellah have balconies, the influence of Andalusian culture brought by the Jews who fled here during the Inquisition.  We visited a synagogue dating back hundreds of years – a young woman is the caretaker.  We knocked on the door and she answered, pointing the way inside after charging a small admission fee which goes to upkeep.  A very casual approach for an historic place, but while the cemetery has funds for upkeep, no one has donated enough to truly refurbish this synagogue. The balconies were for the women and we saw a Mikva beneath the shul.

In addition to cats, storks are respected animals in Morocco and they tuck away their huge nests here and there.  Medieval madrassas, a shrine to the founder of Fes, and the world’s oldest university all crammed into the Medina.

The King has several palaces in Fes, and our guide was clearly aggravated at the expense of upkeep for the king’s 13 palaces throughout the country while so many people are poor and out of work.  The palaces are not open to the public.

Fes is an artisan’s capital and we stopped in at a pottery where three men were working on kickwheels, kilns were loaded, and several people were painting the intricate patterns on bisqueware.  No bargaining here but we did a little shopping anyway –  at least I know the stuff is the real deal, not a Chinese knockoff.

The oldest tannery in Morocco still operates in Fes.  Talk about hard work.  Men stand in the blazing sun dipping skins into huge vats of dye.  Donkeys cart the skins to the tannery for processing.  It would not surprise me if this facility sells to French and American designers because the jackets and purses and abundance of leather goods for sale here were highly styled.  And they bargained.