Steam & Soggy Undies

Somehow, despite spending a lot of time in Fez this year, I had never been to the local Hammam (public bathhouse). Until last night.

As a pampered foreigner used to the modern luxury of daily, private, ablutions, it can be easy to come up with a plethora of excuses for not trying out the neighbourhood Hammam; "There's a bathroom in my house/hotel" or "I am not sure about the etiquette of communal washing or how clean it all really is ?", but the truth is that everyone should visit a Hammam at least once.

So, when Najib, an always-hospitable local purveyor of lamps and other tourist souvenirs, suggested I join him as a remedy for my recent insomnia, I grabbed the chance to go with a friendly guide who would show me the ropes and make sure I did not make any gaffes. I should say at this point that I am not a complete neophyte when it comes to the rituals of islamic bathhouses, having enjoyed several atmospheric visits to a beautiful 15th Century hammam in Bukhara, Uzbekistan and a much less interesting, but very necessary, trip to a more modern bathhouse in Kabul, Afghanistan. I have also lived in Japan and spent many a happy time in their onsen hotsprings, so I was curious to see how Fez's version would compare...

Well, it was less atmospheric and architecturally interesting than my Uzbek experience, less naked than the Japanese version (hence the soggy underwear) but still, thankfully, cleaner than the Afghan foray. After sitting on the floor of the hot room sluicing myself with buckets of water and being scrubbed with sabon beldi (traditional black soap) and a coarse mitt to get steamed, scrubbed and very clean, I was led into the cooler room next door and pinned down in what seemed like a series Moroccan wrestler moves, but was actually called a massage.

The verdict: great experience but on a regular basis am more likely to head to the gleaming new 2 million Euro Nausikaa complex in the Ville Nouvelle for a more modern & luxurious take on the traditional hammam.