“Hello my friend! Where are you going?” translates to “Welcome to Fes.”

The roast chicken tasted if it had been aging for a few days and the rice as well. The little place had an unclean feel but I did not obey my first impulse and attempt to find a better lunch spot…

Local taxis bumped and jolted their way past, gatherings of rural children either waved and yelled at us, played chicken, or through rocks or sticks at us…