Beware This Shop in the Fes Medina

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The store itself is full of interesting items — all ridiculously overpriced

When shopping in Fez, there’s one store you absolutely should avoid.

 

Feeling euphoric from our experience at Fès Bleu Art, we passed through an alleyway and entered a shop with an ornate stucco ceiling decorated with stalactites resembling the honeycomb of a beehive.

The shopkeeper invited us in saying, “No obligation to buy — just look around.” Wally began taking pictures and I surveyed the merchandise. The shop really is fun to explore; it’s just that the owner makes the experience awful.

“He intimated that a powerful mafia ran the souk, stealing a portion of his profits. ”

When I paused to look at a stoneware inkwell decorated with Arabic calligraphy, the shopkeeper asked where I was from. I told him we were visiting from Chicago and really just looking.

He used a tactless ploy, telling me that he was Jewish and because of this he would offer us a fair price. He added that because we were his first customers we were obligated to purchase something.

“You have to buy something or you will have bad luck and I will have bad luck,” he told us. Charming.

He also intimated that a powerful mafia ran the souk, stealing a portion of his profits. There was nothing subtle or nuanced about his demeanor.

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The shopkeeper does everything he can to finagle a sale, including pleading and, ultimately, cursing

I hadn’t expected to hear a shopkeeper speak this way, regardless of his personal opinion. I offhandedly asked how much he wanted for the inkwell, and he replied 3,500 dirham. I had also looked at a turquoise glazed stoneware basin oil lamp, which he quoted at 7,500 dirham. The basin had clearly broken off from its slender base and been reattached. He told us everything in his shop were artifacts. Honestly, I couldn't identify a valuable antique from an item that looks old, but clearly felt that this guy was duplicitous and trying to pull a fast one on me. I did sort of want the inkwell, but not for the equivalent of $350, so I put the objects down and told Wally we were leaving.

As we made our way towards the door the shop owner suddenly turned nasty, cursing us and muttering profanities under his breath.

We recommend that you do comparison shopping, as a neighboring shop may very well have the same item. We found one offering an array of beaded terracotta heads from Nigeria. We had purchased one in Marrakech three years prior for 250 dirham, and the shopkeeper in Fès started at 700. He also had some excellent bronzes and more than a few basin oil lamps, artifacts or otherwise — none of which were previously broken and all of which were a fraction of the price at the other store.

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After exploring the cavernous shop (and escaping the clutches of the evil shopkeeper), flee out this door and back into the meandering medina

If you spot this short, dark-haired man in his pink plastic chair up the street from Place Seffarine, be on your guard. The prices are 10 times as high as they should be, and you just might face a curse from the tactless shopkeep. –Duke

The Monsters of "Supernatural" Season 1, Episodes 1-3

Now you’ll know what to do if you ever come upon La Llorona, the weeping Woman in White, a cannibalistic wendigo or a vengeful ghost.

I've been mad for monsters for as far back as I can remember. From my early love of Greek myths to my hours spent playing D&D, I've always had a fascination for folklore, and in particular the various monsters and legendary creatures around the globe and through the centuries. 

So perhaps it's a bit odd that I never got into Supernatural until recently. As I've been watching the show on Netflix, I decided to start a series of blog posts that delves into the assorted boogeymen Dean and Sam encounter.  

“Parents warn that the woman in white looks for children who are out after dark and drags them into the water. ”

The woman in white, known in Mexico as La Llorona, comes back from the dead to mourn the children she has killed

S1E1: "Pilot"

Monster: Woman in white (or La Llorona, the Weeping Woman)

Where it's from: Mexico

Description: A woman named Maria drowned her kids to exact revenge upon her husband, who left her for a younger woman (much like Medea in The Odyssey). When she realized what she had done, she committed suicide by drowning herself in the river as well. Other tales say she stopped eating and went mad, looking for her lost sons. 

What it does: Tall, slender, dark-haired and beautiful, La Llorona wails along riverbanks — ¡Ay, mis hijos! ("Oh, my children!") — causing misfortune to those who hear her. Parents warn that she looks for children who are out after dark and drags them into the water. 

How to defeat it: Unknown 

The wendigo is what becomes of those depraved enough to resort to cannibalism

S1E2: "Wendigo"

Monster: Wendigo (Its name translates to "the evil spirit that devours mankind.")

Where it's from: North America, especially in the colder regions along the East Coast and Great Lakes

Description: These emaciated humanoid giants can reach 15 feet tall. They've got glowing eyes, yellow fangs and long tongues. Their skin is sallow and decaying, with patches of matted fur. Some depictions show the creature with antlers atop its head. 

What it does: Wendigos have an insatiable hunger for human flesh. In fact, when a person resorts to cannibalism, he or she becomes possessed by an evil spirit and transforms into a wendigo. 

How to defeat it: The original human is frozen inside the wendigo, where its heart would be. In most cases, when you kill the wendigo, the person trapped inside also perishes. 

This yurei, a vengeful ghost from Japan, seeks revenge for a wrongful death

S1E3: "Dead in the Water"

Monster: Vengeful spirit, or vengeful ghost

Where it's from: All over the world

Description: These undead spirits return from the dead to exact revenge for a cruel, unnatural or unjust death — or because they weren't given a proper burial. There seem to be more female vengeful spirits than male. 

What it does: It wanders the Earth, with the ability to kill, until it has appeased its appetite for revenge. 

How to defeat it: Find the corpse and the instrument of death, if possible. Pour salt over them, then set them on fire. If the person wasn't given a proper burial, doing so might do the trick. –Wally

The Best Shop for Blue Pottery in the Entire Fez Medina

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Fès is known for its delightful blue and white pottery

If you’re shopping in Fès, just off of Place Seffarine is a small shop with a friendly owner and great deals.

Each morning our breakfast at Dar Bensouda, our riad in the depths of the Fès, Morocco medina, was served in the most charming cobalt blue and white hand-painted pottery. Having read that Fassi craftsmen are known for their ceramic artistry, we ventured out to see what we could find.

RELATED: 8 Tips to Get the Best Deals in a Souk

Miraculously, by day three, we managed to make our way through the medina’s maze of alleyways and back to Place Seffarine, the metalworkers’ square. It was a Friday, so it was relatively quiet. Local guides will advise against shopping the souks on Fridays, the Islamic holy day, telling you that shops are closed in observance. However, we have found that this isn’t completely accurate. Although some shops may be closed, the souks are generally less chaotic and easier to navigate.

“The shop was a visual feast for the senses. Every square inch of the floors and walls was covered with bowls, platters, soap dishes and pitchers.”

A shop to the side of the square had some interesting and old-looking metalwork pieces on display. One in particular, a palm-sized tarnished brass astrolabe caught my eye. These scientific tools were used to track the position of the sun and stars to astronomically determine the five specific times of prayer and as an aid in finding the Qibla, the sacred direction of Mecca. I should have downplayed the fact that I was interested in it, as Wally’s ability to barter like a Berber seemed to have little to no effect on the shopkeeper.

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Fès Bleu Art is overflowing with handcrafted pottery made by local artisans

True Blue

We moved on, following one of the offshoot alleyways. Located just off Place Seffarine, a pair of whimsical outstretched hands of Fatima drew us into Fès Bleu Art, a shop filled with hand-painted Fassi pottery.

The shop was a visual feast for the senses. Small and narrow, the shelves were full of petite, richly varied tagines and small lidded vessels like the ones we had seen at our riad. Every square inch of the floors and walls was covered with bowls, platters, soap dishes and pitchers.

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The charming shop owner, Zouhir, offers reasonable deals — perhaps the best in the medina

The affable shop owner, Zouhir, who told us he was a descendant of the Idrisid dynasty, struck up a friendly conversation with us. Asking where we were from, he spoke to us in earnest, explaining how he offers a fair price on his pottery and how to identify the authenticity of a piece: Locally produced stoneware have the word Fas (the Arabic spelling of Fès) hand-painted on the bottom.

We had heard Zouhir speaking with another couple when we entered his shop, and during his exchange he had mentioned pricing, which we were pleased to realize is quite affordable.

Fassi pottery is glazed in white and embellished with cobalt oxide, which produces a vibrant shade of blue during kiln firing. Designs typically feature motifs and patterns including flowers, zigzags, chevrons, dots, triangles and crosshatching, all of which are used to convey messages.

For example, diamond or star-shaped lozenge motifs represent an eye that deflects evil, while a shape with five points or branches conjures the protection of the hamsa, or hand of Fatima.

We began to pick out pieces and put them to the side. What makes these so exceptional in my opinion is that matched sets do not exist, as they are entirely handmade. I think we purchased almost every hand-painted hamsa tile Zouhir had. Wally decided to give them out as gifts to his coworkers.

Zouhir’s prices, as we mentioned, are quite fair. So don’t expect him to come down substantially in price. And don’t worry — you’ll still be getting perhaps the best deal in the entire medina.

On our last day in Fès, we returned to the shop to purchase even more pottery — many of which I made sure to carry on, for fear of returning home with broken shards. –Duke

Learn These Spanish Curse Words to Make Your Conversations More Colorful

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Turns out we know the graffiti artist responsible for this social commentary on how shitty it is to leave your dog poop on the sidewalk

Las palabrotas aren’t for everyone. But Spanish bad words can be so good.

“How do you say ‘swear words’ in Spanish?” I asked my friend José as we sat in his and Jo's living room during a recent visit to Málaga, Spain.

“Las palabrotas,” he said. “That means ‘broken words.’”

“Me cago en la leche: literally, “I shit in the milk.”
It means, “No way!””

I gleefully handed him a notebook and had him write down all the swear words and naughty expressions he could think of in Spanish.

I feel it’s best to try to speak like locals — and that means learning the bad words as well. Heck, they’re usually the most fun anyway.

My love of swear words goes way back. In fact, in college, when I took a linguistics class, I titled one of my big reports for the semester, Fuck! The History of the Ultimate Four-Letter Word (and Other “Bad” Words).

My teacher, most likely bored with the usual goody-goody subjects, practically squealed in delight when I pitched my idea.

MORE CRASS: Michael and Kent on Living in Paris

Here’s the list that José wrote down for me:

• joder: to fuck
• la polla: dick (strangely, this word is feminine)
• el coño: pussy, though it also works as an expression like, "Dammit!"
• gilipolla: asshole, wanker (keep in mind some of these were shared by my British friend Jo)
• chupapollas: cocksucker
• Me cago en la leche: literally, "I shit in the milk." It means, “No way!”
• Tengo una cita con Roca: literally, "I have a date with Roca" (the most common brand of toilet in Spain). It means, “I need the loo.”
• mamón: from the verb meaning to breastfeed, this can mean sucker, loser or asshole
• cara culo: butthead
• Vete a tomar por culo: Get the fuck out of here
• hijoputa: son of a whore
• Me cago en tu padre/madre: I shit on your dad/mom (charming, eh?)
• Salut y forza al canut: A Catalán toast meaning, "To health and a hard cock!"
• marquita: literally, "ladybug." It means “gayboy”
• una chupada/mamada: blowjob
• correrse: to cum (notice it’s reflexive). Correr means “to run” — “Be very careful with these verbs,” Jo wisely warns. Let’s use them in a sentence: Correrme/Me corro: I’m cumming!
• tener un pedo/estar pedo: to be wasted, drunk. Interesting, as pedo means “fart.”

Enjoy, hijoputas! –Wally

What are your favorite naughty expressions in Spanish?

A Brief History of Málaga, Spain

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The Málaga Lighthouse sits on the harbor of this modern city with ancient origins

Fun facts about this city on Spain’s Costa del Sol that combines cosmopolitan chic with classic cool.
 

Worth Its Salt

As the adage goes, Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither was Málaga. One of the oldest cities in the world, it was inhabited and settled by the Phoenicians around 770 BCE. They gave the modest port city the name Malaka, which was likely derived from malaha, the Phoenician word for salt.

The Phoenicians maintained a prosperous sea trade, and one of their primary exports was salt, obtained from evaporated seawater. Salt was prized for its ability to preserve food as well as seasoning. In fact, in Ancient Rome, soldiers were paid in salt — a salarium, the Latin origin of the word “salary.”

“Like a game of hot potato, Málaga was besieged and conquered several times. ”

Hooked on Phoenics

The Phoenician alphabet is the oldest verified alphabet. Derived from Egyptian hieroglyphics, the 22 letters are simplifications of hieroglyphic symbols. This alphabet eventually evolved into modern Arabic. Eventually the Greeks, who had become familiar with the Phoenician alphabet through trade, added vowels — and that’s what became the foundation of the standardized Latin alphabet we use today.
 

History Repeating  

Like a game of hot potato, Málaga was besieged and conquered several times. Under the reign of Caesar Augustus, the Romans invaded and renamed the city Malaca.

After the decline and subsequent fall of the Roman Empire, the city was briefly occupied by the Visigoths, who were then defeated by the Moors. It remained under Islamic rule for 800 years as Mālaqa and became an important center of commerce.

The Crown of Castile later overtook the region in 1487, selling virtually the entire Muslim population into slavery, prior to the fall of Granada five years later.
 

Culture Club

Turbulent history aside, the archeological ruins make the historic city center a cultural open-air museum campus. This heritage earned Málaga a nomination for the European Capital of Culture (which was instead awarded to San Sebastián.) –Duke

The Gilded Glory of the Iglesia de los Santos Mártires in Málaga, Spain

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The ornate interior of the Iglesia de los Santos Mártires in Málaga, Spain

As our photos attest, this church, dedicated to Ciriaco and Paula, the patron saints of Málaga, is a wonderment of Catholic excess.

It's quite unassuming from the outside. A trio of Mudejar-inspired brick-lined arches, devoid of ornamentation, carved into the side of the structure. No steps leading up to a grand entrance. You'd think it was a side entrance, situated as it is on a jag of a narrow street.

But inside! The Iglesia de los Santos Mártires (the Church of the Holy Martyrs) is utterly dazzling, white arches everywhere, lined in gold, gilded and glittering. Altars accented with slabs of marble, one a deep crimson niche. The style could be considered Rococo Loco.

“The Iglesia de los Santos Mártires is utterly dazzling. The style could be considered Rococo Loco.”

We entered, overwhelmed. Your eyes don't know where to focus. So we turned to our right and began to work our way around the edges of the church.

The first thing we saw was a lifesize statue depiction of the Last Supper behind a wrought iron fence. We couldn’t help but giggle. Sometimes the ostentatiousness of Catholics is astounding. But it makes for a fun exploration.

We walked the periphery of the sizable space, snapping away photos of the various niches, each with its own interpretation of the Virgin Mary and/or Jesus.

And unlike the city’s main cathedral, photography is allowed here.

The Patron Saints of Málaga

The church is dedicated to the two patron saints of Málaga: St. Ciriaco and St. Paula. These two were part of a Christian sect forbidden by the Roman Emperor Diocletian. The Christian community had a secret meeting place in Málaga. But on June 18, 303, Roman soldiers learned of the spot and raided it. Ciriaco and Paula were among those captured.

Even though they were tortured, the pair refused to renounce Christ. So they were tied to trees along the banks of the Guadalquivir River and stoned to death.

Not wanting anything that could be venerated, the soldiers built a massive bonfire to destroy the remains. But the skies opened up with a torrential downpour and doused the flames. When the soldiers left, the surviving Christians took the bodies and buried them in an unknown locale.

Fast forward to the Reconquista, when the Catholics started taking back the Iberian Peninsula from the Muslim rulers. A monk named Fray Juan de Carmona told the Catholic kings of a vision he had: Build a church dedicated to Ciriaco and Paula — and they would be victorious in the battle for Málaga in 1487.

It seems just the promise was good enough, for they did end up winning. They then dispatched a letter to Pope Innocent VIII, who approved construction of the Iglesia de los Santos Mártires.

Thus began a cycle of destruction and rebuilding from incidents including a cannonball (1854), earthquake (1884) and looting (1936).

In 1490, Ferdinand and Isabella appointed Ciriaco and Paula the official patron saints of Málaga.

Every June 18, there's a solemn procession through the historic quarter to honor the martyrs.

The church is home to four Semana Santa (Holy Week) brotherhoods.

Iglesia de los Santos Mártires, located in the city center, is certainly worth exploring. –Wally

RELATED: How to Enjoy Feria, Southern Spain’s Springtime Festival

The Whimsical, Feminist Street Art of Sara Fratini

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Under the adorable mural by Sara Fratini, Duke and Wally enjoy coffee in the courtyard café of La Casa Invisible in Málaga, Spain

A Q&A with the artist who created the mural at La Casa Invisible in Málaga that kept making us smile.

When our friend Jo took Wally and I to the courtyard café of the La Casa Invisible cultural center, we knew it was a magical place from the moment our eyes fell upon the whimsical mural by the Venezuelan artist Sara Fratini.

Sara was invited to create the mural thanks to a project organized by La Guarimba International Film Festival in collaboration with Amnesty International and the University of Málaga.

“I started drawing the curvy, rosy-cheeked girl when I realized that I wasn’t happy with the way society treated women. She is radiant, happy and doesn’t care about what society expects from her.”

— Sara Fratini

I was so taken with Sara’s playful style, I decided to look her up online and email her some questions. Here are her responses. –Duke

What’s your connection to Madrid?

I lived in Madrid for six years and studied fine arts there. Currently, I live in the town of Amantea located in the Calabria region of southern Italy, where I’m one of the organizers of La Garimba International Film Festival, but Madrid will always be in my heart.

In what other cities have you done murals?

I have done murals in Madrid, Málaga, Amantea and San Vito dei Normanni, Italy.

Who are your favorite artists?

I like a lot of different artists. At the moment. I’m obsessed with Rubens. And after seeing the exhibition of Bosch at the Prado Museum, I’m equally obsessed with him. I already admired his work, but after seeing his paintings, I feel that I could spend hours looking and discovering new characters and demons.

I also love Ludwig Kirchner and a lot of German expressionists.

Many of your pieces feature a rosy-cheeked girl. Is she modeled after anyone?

No. I started drawing the curvy, rosy-cheeked girl when I realized that I wasn’t happy with the way society treated women. So she is my response to societal pressures. She is radiant, happy and doesn’t care about what society expects from her.

What’s the most interesting story you’ve had creating a mural?

I recently created a mural in the Asylum Seeker Center in the town where I live. It was one of the most beautiful experiences I’ve ever had. I drew on two big walls, and some of the refugees helped me. The mural was part of a project organized by La Guarimba called Cinema Ambulante.

We currently have more than 80 refugees living in a camp, and our goal is to help them integrate into the local community.

What’s your creation process?

I usually wake up in the morning, have a cup of coffee and put myself to work. I take a look at my notebook and begin working on a specific idea.

What inspires you?

Everything. What happens to me during the day, what I think or feel and, of course, music.

These Gruesome Photos of the Meknès Market Are Enough to Turn You Vegetarian

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This is about as tame as the Meknès meat market got. More graphic shots to follow

Local markets provide a glimpse into the daily life of a culture. Just watch out for the decapitated cow heads.

One of the best ways to see a local culture in action is to visit a food market. You’ll also get plenty of awesome photo opps.

I first discovered this pleasure one day when I wandered off on my own in Cusco, Peru and stumbled upon a local food market. Since then, markets — whether they’re in Spain, Vietnam or Morocco — are must-stops for Duke and me.

“It was as if we had found ourselves suddenly the unwitting victims of a horror movie.”

So, when we noticed an interior market connected to the stalls of the main plaza in Meknès (on a day trip that included the Roman ruins of Volubilis), we were excited to wander through it. At first, we passed stalls of brightly colored fruits and vegetables. But at the back, it was as if we had found ourselves suddenly the unwitting victims of a horror movie. We had entered the horrific domain of the meat market.

It was unlike anything we had ever seen. In the United States, we’re so used to brightly lit, sterile supermarket aisles, where our meat is often deboned, trimmed of fat, individually wrapped in plastic. There’s no real hint that the pinkish cut of meat was once a chicken or that the hunk of red beef actually came from a cow.

That connection to the meat’s origin was like a slap in the face in the Meknès market. It’s inescapable.

Click on the photos below to enlarge. You know you want to see them in all their gory glory.

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We wandered through the butchers’ stalls, dazed and amazed. Many chuckled at our reaction, while some of the men scowled as I snapped away quickly on my camera.

The images came quick and violent. Decapitated cow heads, their tongues lolling out. A boy digging his hands into a bowl of brains. Goat heads amidst a splattering of blood. Razor in hand, a young man intently shaving the side of an animal’s face. Haphazard piles of bloated legs, a nauseating yellow, ending in cloven hooves. Macabre dissections revealing raw, red tissue in stark contrast to the white of sawed-through bones.

Duke and I couldn’t stop smiling. –Wally

“Decapitated cow heads, their tongues lolling out. A boy digging his hands into a bowl of brains. Goat heads amidst a splattering of blood. ”

 

A Tour of the Roman Ruins and Mosaics of Volubilis

The ruins of the Roman city of Volubilis can be paired with an excursion to Meknès.

When visiting Fès, Morocco, be sure to take a day trip to see the remarkably well-preserved tile mosaics of the ancient city of Volubilis.

It never occurred to me that there’d be Roman ruins in Morocco, though I suppose I knew on some level that the Roman Empire extended to Northern Africa.

But when I read about the remains of the town of Volubilis, just outside of Fès, I knew it had to make our itinerary. And, as someone obsessed with Ancient Rome — poor Duke has had to sit through countless shows about the subject — I knew a visit to Volubilis was exactly how I wanted to spend my birthday. (A lady never reveals her age. But I’m not a lady. It was my 44th.)

““Bulemics. Vomitoriums. Feather to tickle the throat. They vomit. Eat more.”

He pointed across the way. “Then happy ending. At brothel. Secret passage from hammam to brothel.””

Even a rainy forecast wasn’t going to disappoint me.

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Duke and Wally didn't let a little rain get in the way of an enjoyable trip to Volubilis, Morocco.

We arranged a day trip to Volubilis and Meknès through our riad. A guide led us through the twists and turns of the narrow lanes, through an ornate gate and out into a square. Our driver for the day was a friendly young guy named Hafid.

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RELATED: 7 Must-See Historic Sites to Visit in Fès, Morocco

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The drive wasn’t what we expected. I’m not sure what we thought the Moroccan countryside would look like but we were pleasantly surprised to pass through rolling green and golden hills dotted with green poofs of trees.

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The view on the drive from Fès to Volubilis

A half-hour or so later, we arrived at Volubilis. Hafid asked if we wanted a guide to the site and we decided we did. Boy, were we glad we made that choice. Our guide, Rashid (which I learned appropriately means “rightly guided”) was a complete comedian. He’d walk through the ruins, his hands in his pockets, the bright red hood up on his stylish black coat. Rashid, who was obviously very knowledgeable about the site, spoke in short sentences, everything layered with a dry wit. Like bullet bursts of naughty poetry.

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If the dry-witted Rashid is around, we recommend requesting him as your guide.

“Carpe diem,” Rashid said. “Roman motto. Short lives. Lived life to fullest.”

We clamored over the damp grass to the remains of a nouveau riche home opposite the town baths. Rashid pointed to what was once a bathroom.

“Bulemics. Vomitoriums. Feather to tickle the throat. They vomit. Eat more.”

He pointed across the way. “Then happy ending. At brothel. Secret passage from hammam to brothel.”

We learned that the structures of Volubilis amazingly had heated floors and plumbing. Unfortunately, that plumbing was toxic.

“Romans all crazy,” Rashid said, his face a mask revealing no emotion. “Lead poisoning. Pipes.”

As we walked along a muddy path, Rashid pointed to wildflowers.

“Morning glory. Very pretty weed. We call it ‘mile-a-minute.’ Grows very fast. It’s what Volubilis means.”

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Flowers color the surrounding area, making a nice contrast to the stone ruins of this Roman town.

I didn’t know if I should believe everything Rashid told us. But I was also too entertained to worry too much about veracity. I’ve always been a huge proponent of Why let the truth get in the way of a perfectly good story?

Atop the crest of a small hill, we turned in a circle, surveying the landscape.

“Strategic location,” Rashid explained. “Water. Wheat. Olive. What more you need?” He put his head down and began descending the hill. We could barely hear him add, “Chocolate.”

Rashid was obviously very proud of this little-known historic site.

“Like Tuscany,” he said, his chest swelling ever so slightly. “Who would know this is Morocco? No one. If they do not come. Everyone should see Volubilis.”

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The stork nests atop columns at the remains of the forum of Volubilis have become a tourist favorite.

The rain came down in spurts. Duke, trying to look on the bright side, pointed out that the site was probably a lot less crowded due to the inclement weather.

“We should pray to Apollo for the sun,” I said as we approached the forum, with its slender columns topped with stork nests.

“No,” Rashid said. “Jupiter was the god of the weather.” He pointed to a stone slab in the middle of a piazza. “You can make sacrifice. Goat or sheep.”

“We should have brought one,” I said.

Rashid commented, “Yes. Barbecue.”

Mosaic Masterpieces

The site is most famous for its mosaics. These are remarkably well-preserved, especially those in the wealthier part of town, away from the hammam and the nouveau riche home. The rich didn’t need easy access to the public baths — they had their own.

Frankly, I’m astounded these mosaics haven’t been completely picked apart. They’ve been here in the middle of the countryside for centuries, with no security, nothing to stop pillagers. Imagine having a Roman ruin remaining relatively untouched for so long. I was giddy with excitement.

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This mosaic of a guy who got on his horse backward is known as the Acrobat.

One of the mosaics features Diana, the goddess of the hunt, bathing. When the poor fellow Actaeon came upon her, and saw the goddess nude, she punished him by turning him into a stag. He was torn apart by his own hounds.

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A mosaic of the goddess Diana bathing — before she catches a peeping Tom and devises a horrific fate for him

“Oh, deer!” Rashid said as he finished the story, and Duke and I burst out laughing.

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Many of the mosaics of Volubilis are in surprisingly good shape.

After we had toured the mosaics, Rashid got a mischievous glint in his eye. “Come, come,” he said. “I saved the best for last.”

We hurried after him, wondering what he was up to. “You’ll see,” he said. “Best site in all of Volubilis.”

He stopped and turned around, blocking a rectangular stone. He almost cracked a smile as he moved to the side in a dramatic reveal.

There before our eyes was a carving of what was undeniably a huge penis.

Rashid explained that this marker designated the brothel. I of course couldn’t resist. I straddled the stone while Duke took a picture.

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Wally clowns around with the phallic marker that designated the local whorehouse.

“Great photo,” Rashid said, utterly deadpan. “Can be your Christmas card.”

If he only knew that wasn’t so far-fetched. –Wally

Read more about the history of Volubilis here.

 

The Ruined Garden: A Fairy Tale Fez Restaurant

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The Ruined Garden, one of the best restaurants in Fès, Morocco

A magical, secret spot with great Moroccan food, friendly servers, quirky décor and kitty companions.

In Fès, it can be said that beauty lies concealed behind the modesty of its windowless exteriors. The Ruined Garden, a restaurant tucked in the heart of the medina, is such a place.

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The Ruined Garden features adorably mismatched tables and chairs and is overrun by flowers and other plants

Located within the centuries-old roofless shell of a former merchant’s house, its interior has been converted into a charming, magical place — a bric-à-brac of mismatched chairs and colorful wax print fabric tablecloths where a fairy tale could be set.

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Wally got the rfissa, a noodle dish that one of the servers told us is traditionally served to pregnant women

“Located within the roofless shell of a former merchant’s house, its interior has been converted into a charming, magical place — where a fairy tale could be set.”

The restaurant was created by chef and gardener Robert Johnstone, a veteran of both the Wolseley and one of London’s most celebrated restaurants, the Ivy. Be sure to check out the Ruined Garden blog, which features images of the café, recipes and general goings-on at the property.

Serving some of the best food in Fès, made from local ingredients, we ate there twice on our four-day visit. The al fresco restaurant has a low-key vibe and features artfully prepared riffs on Moroccan classics such as lamb pastilla served with a tomato and orange salad.

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Duke opted for the lamb pastilla, a common Moroccan dish

Be sure to save room for dessert and then check out the corridor to the back of the restaurant, where handcrafted lemon wood spoons, saffron and hammered copper tajines are for sale.

The restaurant is connected to Riad Idrissy, a former merchant’s house that has been lovingly restored and converted into a palatial guest house. –Duke

Secret Garden

Wally caught up with Robert via email and he kindly answered a few questions regarding the Ruined Garden, how the space was acquired, why it was left as a deconstructed space and what has become of the very pregnant black cat who lounged on the bench next to us when we last dined there.

How did you acquire the space and what did it look like at the time?

John Twomey and I own the business together. John bought the house and the ruin adjoining it in 2006. Restoration took four years.

I then came out to furnish the hotel and to turn the ruined house next door into a garden and then into the restaurant you have visited.

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The crumbling shell that frames the open-air restaurant. Note the cat climbing the wall in the distance

How did you decide to keep the ruined aspect and not rebuild the courtyard?

The house was unrestored but sound. However, the ruin next door had actually been a rubbish dump. It took five donkeys five months to clear the site and reveal the original mosaic floors.

I wanted to keep the ruined nature alive as a contrast to the precise decoration in the riad as well as to give visitors a “soft focus” space to be able to relax and think about what they have been seeing in the medina — as you have seen, it is intense and very urban.

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We started with a soup course: harira for Duke and bessara, a fava bean soup with a Moroccan star in oil, for Wally

How would you describe the restaurant’s cuisine?

The food is essentially Moroccan — some traditional dishes and been reimagined, though we steer away from the French influences that have crept in.

We grow some of the herbs and flavorings in the garden and buy all of the vegetables and fruits from the medina souks.

What else do you offer at the restaurant?

We run a bread-making course, by arrangement in the garden (550 dirham per person), where you can learn to cook five local breads with Najia and go to the community bread oven.

Tell us about the riad.

The hotel, Riad Idrissy, has five rooms. Guests have access to the Evita Balcony, overlooking the garden and the roof terrace.

What’s the décor of the riad like?

The style of the riad I would describe as casual luxury, with handmade bedspreads and bespoke furniture. There are rain showers and heated towel rails in the bathroom.

All ornaments and furniture has either been made or bought in Morocco.

Where do you find such charming servers?

The charming servers found us really, and some have been here since we began. The riad is served by the same guys you met in the garden.

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Madrigal lounges in the courtyard by a table. She has since given birth to a litter of kittens

When we were there, we dined with a pregnant black cat that Duke named Madrigal, after the mother figure in Tales of the City. Did she have her kittens?

The black cat has had her kittens. She usually has them across the road. She is an occasional opportunist visitor rather than a pet — though she is rather chatty and does love a sardine.

CAT FIGHT: Who’s cuter: the Cats of Fès or the Cats of Marrakech?