Siiiingin' in (If)rane

It’s been such an unusually warm and dry winter here in Fes, and I managed to pick a rainy Saturday to visit Ifrane. Consider it, then, a testament to the company – Rod, Sam and our host, Kelly – that the trip was a great time anyway.

Ifrane (pronounced Ee-frahn, meaning the title of this blog is not actually the play on words it appears to be) is a small town in the Middle Atlas Mountains, established by the French in the early part of the twentieth century as a sort of alpine-village-esque getaway for colonial families. Nowadays, it’s known largely for two things: al-Akhawayn University and snow.

We got to see the first at the hands of Kelly Coble, a Fulbright scholar teaching one year of philosophy courses at the university, something he’s able to do because the entire curriculum there is in English. Al-Akwahayn stands out in other ways as well, by its small, highly upper class student body and a course scheduling and crediting system based on the American one. In some ways it struck me as a Moroccan Middlebury, tucked away in the countryside with its picturesque campus and Olympic-sized indoor swimming pool.

As for Ifrane’s second (and, let’s admit it, only other) big draw – snow – it was unfortunately en absentia during our visit due to the year’s bizarre-o warmth. Kelly did drive us out to the ski hill Mischliffen, though. Sad times. The bowl-shaped valley does feature taller and steeper slopes than the rolling hills of the surrounding area but still: we’re talking one-minute runs here.

Kelly says when there is snow, the scene is a hoot. Renters of skis and boots and poles and hats swarm the parking lot, and on the hill, throngs of Morocco’s most upper crust population, having traveled for several hours from Casablanca or Rabat or wherever for the novelty of snow, elbow each other for a sufficient patch of it that they can careen their way to the bottom.

The best part is that out of the three runs, only two are accessible to the general public. The third, on the right, is just for the king, off-limits to everyone else even when he’s away. Not a bad gig, royalty.


After a quick look at Mischliffen, we drove another couple kilometers into the hills and, as the rain had temporarily let up, got out and took a wind-blustery walk around the rocky terrain. I don’t know anything about geology, so I’m afraid I can’t explain this rockiness, but it’s so distinctive, like something came along to strip off the soil-y skin and left exposed all the boulder bones underneath. Beautiful, in a defiantly vulnerable kind of way.

We made another stop on our way back to town, when we passed a smattering of parked cars on a random curve in the road. Moroccan tourists were tromping around next to them, peering up into the trees, pointing at them and taking pictures. Monkeys. There’s not that many left anymore, but Morocco is still home to the Barbary macaque (macaca sylvanus), it’s not that unusual to see them hanging out in the mountains around Ifrane.

Apparently there used to be lions, too, in North Africa. A rather hackish stone statue of a lion, carved by a (German? Italian? imprisoned?) soldier during WWII, stands in commemoration of this history at an intersection in town and attracts similar photographic attention from tourists. We circled by it once or twice before swinging by Kelly’s house to pick up our stuff, bid adieu to his wife and two little boys and thank them for cheerfully hosting us for the day.

It was still raining on and off when Kelly dropped us at the grand taxi station. The ride back to Fes was cozy (it’s not clear why, when inter-city petit taxis are so anal about allowing no more than three people per car, intra-city grand taxis will cram in as many passengers as possible) but well priced (the equivalent of $2.50 a seat for a one-hour ride), not to mention scenic. Even though a sunshine-y return trip in the spring may be in order, I think we all really appreciated this breath of fresh mountain air.

Sam and I having a moment. As we do.

(Thanks to Rod for the pictures.
And to Erica, Kelly's wife, for lending Sam that hat to wear. Ha.)