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Africa by Bike Home
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Update 8 - 20th October 2004 - Fes, Morocco.
Friday 15th saw the beginning of Ramadan, the ninth month of the Islamic calendar, and a time both of fasting and abstinence and intense celebration. We couldn't have imagined what a revelation it would be to travel in Morocco at this time, and in fact had been a bit worried that we might not be able to get food supplies and might cause offence by eating or drinking during daylight hours. In fact, everyone seems incredibly calm and happy, and eager to share food and experiences in the evenings, when they congregate in cafes or simply on the street to break the fast together. From what we can gather, with the exception of travellers, pregnant ladies, the infirm and those involved in a jihad(!), everyone above the age of about 12 breakfasts before sunrise and then fasts throughout the day until the muezzin sounds at sunset. (Fasting means abstention from food, drink, smoking and sex.) From about 4pm, the scent of harira (tasty soup made with chickpeas, noodles and coriander) fills the streets and as it starts to get dark people begin their meal by drinking a glass of milk, eating a few dates and tucking in to their soup. Ramadan is also a time of almsgiving, and this seems to extend to needy cycle tourists as well as the poor and homeless, as we found out last week...
Morocco, by the way, is a vegetarian's paradise after the trials of Spanish cuisine. Harira is nourishing, ubiquitous and cheap (30p per bowl), cous cous royale consists of a bed of semolina with seven different vegetables and if you order a vegetable tagine you get a slow-cooked casserole flavoured with cumin and turmeric and topped with caramelised onion, all served in dish with a pointy cone-shaped lid (it's this vessel that gives the dish its name). Apart from that the bread is fresh and delicious - either crusty baguettes or flat, round, light loaves - pastries are as good and varied as you would find in France, and fresh fruit and vegetables abound. On the roadside between the towns, large wicker baskets of pomegranates are arranged by the roadside and tiny stalls sell plaited strings of pink-skinned onions, bunches of mint or coriander, and fiery-skinned red peppers. Here in Fes, one street away from our hotel, there is a vegetable souk, and by day there is hardly enough room to squeeze through between the stalls, which groan under the weight of bunched carrots, glistening aubergines, baskets of okra, bright red tomatoes, jerusalem artichokes and enorous and oddly-shaped gourds. Walking through one of these markets is an incredible experience - all the sights, sounds and smells assault you and you find yourself feeling like a child in a sweet shop - wanting to touch everything and buy a bit of whatever is for sale. There are sacks of rice, pasta and beans, sultanas, nuts and chickpeas, strings of figs, boxes of dates from the southern oases, and vats of honey. A stall can be an artistic masterpiece - bowls piled high with glistening mauve and green olives, and arranged symmetrically, with sugary, preserved lemons stacked in between and bunches of herbs hanging above - or it can consist of just a wheelbarrow of squawking chickens, a tray of pancakes, a piece of canvas on the ground with half a dozen bunches of radishes. There are also sticky, honey covered pastries at the moment - a Ramadan speciality we are particularly enjoying - incredibly sweet and sold by the kilo, although thankfully you can also buy smaller quantities. Away from the food souks, there is an incredible array of goods and services on offer,with workshops spilling out onto the pavement in many cases. In Meknes, carpenters were particularly abundant, planing and chiselling, polishing and carving everything from bookcases to beautiful screens of laceria, the art of Moorish knotwork. We commissioned two wooden batons to hold our solar panels in place on the bike and, helped by Maude's French, managed to get exatly what we wanted in the space of ten minutes! Further along, in the metalworkers quarter, reels of wire were being straightened and re-coiled, sheets of metal were beaten flat, and red-hot lumps of iron pulled from a brazier and beaten into shape, while beautiful window-grilles lay stacked and ready for sale. It's too bad we don't have room in the panniers for anything!
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