I’m glad we chose to spend two days in this sleepy, albeit strange town. Our harrowing journey, which started in Cordoba and required we take a train, a ferry, a bus and a grande taxi, was altogether exhausting. Thankfully, we made it in one day —and without killing each other.
Our pension was located just steps from the Place Uta Hammam, the medina’s heart and soul. Small, by Moroccan standards, it still offered plenty of places to eat, drink mint tea and watch passersby.
It should be said many of those passersby were… interesting. Something, which upon further investigation, we found was likely due to the relative isolation of the town and the small community living within it.
By the second evening, our spirits revived, we went in search of drink, which can be difficult in these parts. After a little digging, we discovered the Hotel Parador, an aging grand dame of a place. (Who am I kidding? The place was a dump — but a licensed one!)
Several bottles of Casablanca beer later, we made our way back to our room, ready for the morning and our onward journey to Fes.