Our little host-cousin placed her hand on my elbow as we fought our way through the narrow, crowded street. She pointed up, over the shops full of shoes and shiny teapots, to call my attention to the mosque tower overhead. “Zwina!” I exclaimed, and she agreed; beautiful. It was the first time I had taken my eyes off my own feet and the garbage, stray kittens, and jagged bricks for what felt like hours; watching your step in the beehive of Fes Medina is a must. This city is a place of constant tension, a push and pull phenomenon between religion and commerce, tradition and modernity, art and aggression.

Today we had a much needed break from the city’s taxis and street vendors. We explored the Roman ruins of Volubilis, a sure hour and a half away, but thousands of years in the past. Romping from the bathhouse to the brother to the vomitorium, we breathe the cool mountain air beneath triumphant arches and between cypress trees. Next step was Meknes, another imperial cite like Fez. More exploring, in a giant greenery, a pirate’s corridors, and gates covered in breath-taking mosaic detail.

-Sam Cole