My Experience in Fes

My return to Fes, after spending a few days in the lovely Chefchaouen, would be interesting because I would get to experience what Fes was like under more regular circumstances, as opposed my first day in Fes (and Morocco), which was also the first day of Eid al-Adha (the second biggest Islamic holiday, after Ramadan). I hadn’t done my research, but I quickly learned that arriving in a conservative Islamic country on the first day of an important Islamic holiday was not a good idea and it had given me a very unusual first impression of Fes and Morocco. Eid al-Adha is a week long, so it was still happening when I returned to Fes.

But, first impressions are often accurate and, unfortunately, my second impression was far worse.

Very rarely do I dislike a place, but I hated Fes. Fes is considered the “real” Morocco because it’s authentic and far less touristy than Marrakech, but apparently the real Morocco is very dangerous and very dirty. And I had a few very legitimately dangerous and terrifying experiences in Fes.

As a solo female traveler, who has traveled solo to a few conservative Islamic Middle Eastern countries, as well as Mexico, South and Central America, Sri Lanka etc, I did not find Morocco safe. Specifically Fes.

The day was already off to a bad start with having difficulties getting a bus out of Chefchaouen, so 4 other travelers and I took a hot, sweaty, crowded and overpriced 3 hour grand taxi to Fes.

Once in Fes, we got dumped nowhere near our hostel and we had to navigate through the massive medina on foot (ie. the giant maze of narrow alleyways and deadends; and the world’s largest at that). We had no idea where we were going and GPS doesn’t work in mazes, so we had to ask local men along the way (the streets in Morocco are 98% men). A few local kids ended up helping us. Once we finally reached our hostel, the kids wanted some money, and understandably so. I thought we’d all pitch in a little money, but once I had dug out some money from my bag, I noticed the other travelers had deserted me. Nice. I gave the kid the equivalent of a few dollars, but he was ungrateful and rude and demanded more money (I would soon learn that this was common practice in Morocco). I told him he could take it or leave it and went inside my hostel. He followed me inside my hostel to harass me further, so the staff had to tell him to leave.

We were starving, so we left right away to try find a place to eat. All 5 of us got money out from an ATM and then a Moroccan guy latched onto us and wouldn’t go away. Most of the restaurants were still closed due to the holiday, so it was proving very difficult to find a place to eat, so he said he could take us to a restaurant that he knew was open. We said we weren’t interested, but he ignored us and kept talking to one of the guys in our group who was too nice/dumb to say “no” to him.

We walked all over the medina, but we couldn’t find any restaurants that were open. The guy was still following us and I wanted nothing to do with him because I didn’t trust him, but I also didn’t want to turn back on my own because I didn’t feel safe there alone and I had no idea how to get back to the hostel because the medina is a giant maze with dead ends. I felt trapped and didn’t know what to do.

We left the medina and arrived to an area with exceptionally shady locals, excessively dilapidated buildings and rotting sheep skins everywhere (leftover from the sacrifice for the holiday). The smell was atrocious and it was nearly enough to take away my extreme hunger. The Moroccan guy was trying to lead us into an unmarked, decrepit building, past a group of sketchy, rough-looking local men, claiming there was a restaurant there. The others were blindly following and about to go inside. I stopped and said there was no way in hell that I was going inside that building. But I also didn’t want to be left alone in that super sketchy area either. There were no safe options.

Finally, one of the male travelers in my group spoke up and said that the Moroccan guy saw us each take hundreds of dollars out of the ATM earlier and that there was no way he was going inside that building. The others agreed. I do not want to know what was on the other side of that building, but there’s no way in hell there was a restaurant in there.

We left that area, but the Moroccan guy kept following us and talking to us, and then some of his friends joined us. I was getting really annoyed and angry because the guy wouldn’t stop following us, he wasn’t listening to us, he couldn’t be trusted and now they had multiplied. I firmly said “no thank you” in Arabic to the first guy, but he ignored me, again. Then I said it to one of the new guys who had joined and he swore at me, yelled at me to shut up and he looked like he was going to hit me. Every bad thing I had heard about Morocco and how they treat women, came flooding back to me. I was furious, but this was not the place to get in any kind of fight, so I had to bite my tongue. The Moroccan guys continued to follow us. At one point, the aggressive one started coming after me with what looked like the intent to hit me.

Three hours after we had set out to find food, we finally found a restaurant. Waiting for all of our food to arrive also took a few hours. So far, it seemed like every meal in Morocco was a struggle that took hours every time you needed to eat. Because it took so long, we had to find our way back to the hostel after dark within the medina, which was less than ideal in a place like Fes.

First, the backpackers I was with wanted to buy some djellabas as souvenirs, but the first store didn’t have what they wanted, and then the same thing happened again- a Moroccan guy claimed he knew a place and he tried to lead us down a secluded, dark alleyway into an unmarked entrance, which I was still not having. A Moroccan kid urgently came running after us, looking very alarmed, and told us very seriously to not go in there and that he was a bad man. Meanwhile, some of the others were already inside and halfway up the stairs. I’m shocked that these people made it this far in their travels without any problems. Once I was back at the hostel, I decided it was time to meet new people.

We had to get help from some locals again to find our way back to the hostel in the dark. I hated how you had to rely on locals, especially in such an unsafe city, just for something so simple, yet so important, like finding your accommodation. Your independence is completely taken away.

You know how one of the stupidest things you can do at night in any city, especially a dangerous city, is to walk through dark alleyways at night? Well the medina is one giant maze of dark alleyways with dead ends and tall, agile Moroccan men around every turn and nowhere to run. Terrifying.

The next morning, I went on a walking tour of the medina with my hostel and I crossed paths with the aggressive Moroccan guy again. I was distracted with my new friends and only realized that it was him when he walked right up to me and said “next time I see you, I’m going to fucking kill you” as he walked past me. I turned around to look at him and he was looking back at me with an evil grin on his face.

I had some exceptionally bad experiences in Fes, but the majority of travelers I met in Morocco didn’t like Fes either. And the constant and relentless harassment as a solo, blonde western female, started to get really old, really fast.

The constant harassment you receive as a tourist gets incredibly exhausting and you’ll likely find that you have a tolerance limit and often need to seek refuge in your hostel/hotel. Luckily, the riads are beautiful, peaceful oases, even the hostel riads. However, I personally do not travel to hang out in my hostel/hotel. Also, due to the lack of nightlife and the fact that it’s not safe to go out at night in Fes, I kind of felt like I was in jail.

What I was reminded of during my time in Fes

Safety in numbers can easily turn into stupidity in numbers. People sometimes make stupid decisions in a group because they become followers and they stop thinking for themselves.
Do NOT trust people who are persistent against your wishes for them to leave. Any nice, normal person with good intentions would leave once requested to.
I am so incredibly thankful and lucky to live in Canada. I’m very independent and assertive, which are things that would get you beat or killed in Morocco, as a woman. I feel terrible for Moroccan women. I cannot imagine all the abuse that they endure and it deeply upsets and disturbs me.

CONCLUSION

Fes is not a safe city, but it is a must-see in Morocco because it has the largest medina in the world and it’s incredibly historical and photogenic. While I didn’t have a great time time, when I look back at my photos of Fes, I’m in awe of its historical beauty. And for this reason, I would be open to revisiting Fes and giving it another chance.

*** Update 2018 – My sister traveled to Marrakech and Fes in 2018 and she said these cities have security cameras and plain-clothed policemen patrolling the medinas for safety. However, they can only do so much, so be aware of your surroundings and take care of your belongings.

I actually revisited Morocco 4 years later, in October 2018, for a few days. I didn’t have time to go back to Fes, but my experience in the few days I had in Morocco on my second trip was so much better than my last trip. I really enjoyed myself and I would give Fes another chance. However, I met quite a few local Moroccan men who said they didn’t like Fes and that it was dangerous and very unfriendly, even for them. One of them was horrified that I went to Fes alone.

That being said, I’ve also met people who LOVED Fes, so it really comes down to your personal experiences.

When you travel to Morocco, you need to be prepared with street smarts, knowledge of popular scams and a thick skin to counteract it all.