ANOTHER LABYRINTH
The evening finds us in Fez. Upon arrival, I go into town to change some money and buy some rations. After dinner I escort the leggy blonde so that she can do the same. As she is wearing shorts, she receives many damning looks, especially from the local women. So it's a long skirt for her for the rest of our stay in Morocco.
If Heathrow is a modern-day labyrinth, then the medina of Fez is a much older one--delve deep enough and one can probably still find a Minotaur. Filled with compact, windy streets, indescribable scents, and cries of "Balak! Balak!" when an unyielding donkey is approaching, it is reminiscent of the Amazon in that it is nearly impossible to be put in to words--it really needs to experienced. From tanneries to rug shops, you can find it here, though be forewarned that religious sites are for Muslims only.
A textile shop finds me and the leggy blonde dressing up, though only she is able to escape without buying something. On the way back to the hotel I catch a shot of a cemetery. Back at the hotel is a shower to remove some of the many layers of the medina.
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