Barnaby Rogerson

A walk through Fez is the closest thing to visiting ancient Rome

For the visitor, Fez offers up extremes by the hour, be it the beggar a palatial riad hotel or hammer blows from the metalworkers market set against the calm of the mosque

issue 14 February 2015

Fez is one of the seven medieval wonders of the world. An intact Islamic city defined by its circuit of battlemented walls, it is riven by alleyways. You pass doorways that look into a 10th-century mosque, then a workshop courtyard, before coming through a teeming covered market and twisting past the high walls of a reclusive garden palace. The aesthetic highlight of any visit will be the teaching colleges built in the 14th century by the Merenid Sultans, and nothing can quite prepare you for the colours and odours of the open-air tanneries or the drama of listening to the dusk call to prayer from the ruins of the Merenid tombs.

To the north of the city rise the slopes of Jebel Zalagh, dotted with olive orchards. These warn of the Rif mountains beyond, a tough region that continues all the way to the Mediterranean shore. To the south, further from the walls, is the immense plateau of the Middle Atlas, where forests of cedar and holm oak are interspersed with nomadic grazing grounds. Standing between these two historic lodestones of Moroccan identity, Fez has always functioned as the fortress city that guarded the eastern approaches of Morocco — the Taza gap. But its chief claim to fame within North Africa is as the ancient intellectual centre of Morocco: the Arabic-speaking university town which for 1,300 years pumped the literate culture of Islam into the Berber body of the nation.

For the visitor, Fez offers up extremes by the hour, be it the beggar in supplication beside the chilled calm of a palatial riad hotel or the mad cacophony of hammer blows from the metalworkers’ market next to the cloistered calm of the mosque. The alleyways can be packed not just with crocodiles of tourists but with veiled Moroccan ladies shopping for their Friday lunch, mules laden with pungent skins on a fast trot downhill, and streams of exuberant kids pouring out of school.

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