Puttin' on the Fez.

We spent a couple days exploring Fez. There's lot to explore. The medina and the souks are some of the most vibrant in Morocco. And as befits the "cultural capital of Morocco," there are many historic buildings, palaces, and a beautiful medieval madrassa to visit.

The famous Blue Gate is the main entrance to the medina.

There are a myriad of wonderful doors.

The intricate designs in wood and stone that decorate the walls and ceilings of the old buildings are testament to the amazing craftsmanship of generations of Islamic artists.

We visited a school and watched the children learning to read.

Badly-painted "Disney" art seems to be a staple in schools worldwide.

Like the ubiquitous Disney princess paraphernalia.

The narrow alleys are crammed with people selling and buying produce and household goods. Except fo the clothes, we could almost be back in Vietnam.

But the huge population of cats is pure Morocco.

There are lots of other animals in the medina as well. Horses and donkeys still provide much of the transportation.

And it's easy to walk home with a brace of colorful chickens.

As in Vietnam, we were impressed with the abundance and quality of the foodstuffs on offer.

Delicious marinated olives in assorted flavors. There are numerous stalls selling fish and meat and spices as well.

Satisfying your sweet tooth is easy, too, with these tasty nougats made with local honey and stuffed with nuts.

Or a vast array of dried fruits.

He is the eggman.

You can also stop at a star for a cup of Moroccan mint tea with plenty of sugar.

Or a snack of fresh-baked bread.

No visit to Fez would be complete without a is it to the famous tanneries. 

The smell from the tanning vats is pretty horrific most days, but we observed from a distance, upwind, with a lovely fresh spring breeze protecting us for the worst of it.

On our last day, we took a long walk outside the walls of the medina to visit some of the ruins surrounding the city.

These are the remains of the old forts that used to guard the approaches to the city.

We visited a crowded old cemetery.

It was overrun by goats.

Along the way there were many lovely vistas of the city.

And plenty more goats.

P.

A Palace in Fez.

The next morning we were up at dawn to see the sun rise over the desert.

The horizontal light threw every crenelation of the sinuous terrain into bold relief.

The formerly blank sand now detailed the nocturnal wanderings of birds and animals.

There is water, even here.

You just have to dig for it.

As we drove out of the desert, the landscape began to resemble that of Nevada or Arizona.

Then the south side of the Atlas Mountains appeared in the distance. Our destination was on the other side: Fez.

The landscape slowly began to green as we climbed into the foothills.

Finally becoming alpine with lakes and forests.

At last we arrived at our hotel, Palais Sheherazade, in the heart of the Fez medina.

This grand Arabo-Andalousian palace was built by the Moroccan Vizir of Finance in the 19th century as his main residence. It features a spacious open-air interior courtyard with water and lush vegetation.

The rooms are suitably palatial. 

The ceilings and fixtures are exquisitely detailed.

There's another courtyard and pool inside the main building.

And best of all, it carries the imprimatur of the Master Hotelier himself.

P.

Into the Sahara.

Leaving ‎⁨Ouarzazate⁩ early the next morning, we drove north and east to the spectacular valleys of the Todra Gorge.

The river that carved this deep gorge has mostly dried up, leaving these huge cliffs.

Rising 500 - 600 feet, the sheer rock walls of the narrow canyon loom over the little cluster of houses at their base.

At the mouth of the canyon, a small village has grown up in the oasis formed by what remains of the river.

A network of irrigation canals funnels the precious water to the carefully tended fields.

The vibrant green against the stark terracotta of desert rock is soothing.

Much of the shape and pace of life here conforms to traditional ways.

Laundry day.

Another hour or so puts us deep in the dunes of the Sahara where our camels await us.

Mine was named Jimmy.

Ophelia of Arabia.

The sea of sand.

Getting on these ungainly beasts was a challenge, and the ride would not ingratiate itself to anyone susceptible to seasickness. Which is why they call them the "ships of the desert," I guess.

The sand was empty and trackless. No sound but the creaking of harnesses and the whistle of the wind.

We approached camp just as the sun dipped behind the dunes.

It was a beautiful setting. The tents were spacious and comfortable, with their own private bathrooms. Glamping at its best.

The communal tent where we had dinner also featured live music (traditional Berber style) and dancing.

After dinner we all sat around the fire with our guides, who regaled us with bad jokes to practice their English. The stars were amazing.

P.