Feznannigans

I got some pretty big daggers from the hotel staff when I blatantly stole a bunch of pastries from the breaffast buffet for the train ride. I dont care- Its a trade off for the one hundred bed bug bites they gave me for free. Mofos. I guess they knew then couldnt stop me as they dont really speak english, and I wasnt going to listen to them anyway so they got back at me the next best way- they packed Lynda's and my bags onto some random tour coach and didnt tell us. Yeah credit where credit is due- they had the last laugh. We had to leave for the traino to go from Fez to Marrakech at 8am, and at 7:57am we wound up brekkie and discovered the old missing bag trick, then we all had a laugh and an ice cream and everyone was happy. Yeah right.. ramadan put a stop to that.

After too long of "Where did you move my bags? they were right here!" and getting back a "oui Messieur, un taxi pour garde de tren" I wanted to bat this bloke with a baguette. We got Amanda our tour leader to speak to them and I couldnt help but laugh when she asked them in french where the porters moved our bags to, and they replied again that yes, they had ordered our taxis to the train station. I wasnt that fussed- Im already recycling socks and am on my last set of clean clothes and had a charged ipod in my pocket for the 7 hour train ride coming up. After a little while though we got in touch with the other tour leader that had our bags on her bus and she turned their coach around and we got the bags back and bolted to the garde de tren, Fez to jump the Marrakech Express.

The night before wasnt too flash either- Lyn came down with a fever yesterday and was in a pretty bad state, not helped by marching through the Volubilis ruins for a couple hours in 35 odd degree full sun. When we got back to the hotel she crashed out well before dinner. I grabbed some tucker and water for her and let her rest for a bit. For dinner our small group headed out to Les Deux Lions - That means "we are the only restaurant open in fez in ramadan" in swahili. I got the plat du jour- the description was a 5 minute french conversation, the aussie translation is a "sheperds pie with sardines instead of meat". Highlight of the dinner was getting into a bottle of moroccan cabernet, during ramadan. I do love a thriving black market trade sometimes.
Back to the hotel and into my bed I had a party with the bedbugs again. Unfortunately I had passed out before their festivities started but from all accounts they had a blast.

I tried to make tea this morning in the room using tap-hot water, a glass and the dried tea leaves I bought to escape the clutches of a spice-mad vendor that trapped me and insisted on rubbing musk and amber on me in their medina store. Needless to say, I failed. The cup looked like a compost heap and the taste was similar to crunchy autumn leaves. As creative as I thought is was and was tempted to use, I held off using an old sock as a teabag. Note to self: teapots have value,