Driving from Fes to Marrakesh

Yesterday we drove from Fes to Marrakesh, about eight hours on a two-lane road called the N8. It was similar to our secondary highways in Alberta, but slightly less well-maintained.

Along the way, there were plenty of interesting sights, but unfortunately the road didn’t have good shoulders, so it was not easy to stop to take photos.



We did stop briefly at this elementary school. One of the most intriguing things about this trip was the schools. In every town we drove through, the schools were painted in bright or pastel colours, similar to this one. 

The most striking one was set on a hillside, surrounded by a stone wall. The school itself was painted in lovely pastel shades, and some of the stones in the wall were painted to match. I realize now that I should have insisted on stopping to take a photo, but I guess I will have to be content with the mind-picture (and plan to go back someday)!

More eye-catching sights: a mom and her daughter riding to school on a donkey; farm workers working in the fields with donkeys, carts, and hand tools; olive orchards; olive oil mills with massive hills of olives outside; sheep and more sheep; the occasional huge house complete with sparkly stucco.

As we drove through one town, we saw dozens of children riding their bikes home from the morning shift at school. There were a surprising number of girls, many of whom were not wearing headscarves. It made me wonder whether they stop before they get home to put their scarves back on, or are their parents really that liberal? 

Outside another village, we saw goats climbing trees to eat the fruit (probably argan). 

Almost every town and village had roundabouts, most of which were fancied up with some sort of sculpture in the centre. The one that most surprised me had Christmas trees!

The road itself was interesting in spots. Generally, it was in pretty rough shape, but when we hit a very steep, windy section, the two lanes split off. The north- and south-bound routes each took their own path through the hills, and then joined up again once we hit more level ground.

All in all, it was a good trip, but I was sorry we couldn't have made more stops.

We arrived in Marrakech just before sunset and went straight to the airport to leave the car. The car rental guys suggested we go outside the airport to get a taxi -- it would significantly cheaper that way. So we took their advice and walked a few hundred meters before hailing a taxi.

We had booked a room in a riad -- a guesthouse in an old private home in the medina. The taxi driver dropped us off at the entrance to the riad's street, telling us we would have to walk from there. 

We walked down the "street" -- a steep, extremely narrow passage paved with rocks -- looking for number 67, to no avail. Unfortunately, it was obvious to onlookers that we were lost, because some young guys came up to us and asked where we were going. I was reluctant to reply, as I had heard about these "guides", but we ended up giving them the name of our riad, and they led us there. It turned out it was on a turn-off from the main street -- of course; we should have known! 

Although the architecture of the house was impressive, the host and the actual room were much less so. The room was extremely cold, the shower tap when turned produced no water, and the bed was less than comfortable. We passed a miserable first night wearing our down jackets in bed, only to finally discover the heater the next day. So nice of our host to point it out!