After a 3 hour bus trip we arrive in
Meknes for a guided tour of the city. The tour guide jokes that he is the laziest guide in
Morocco, as we will be taking the bus to the various locations. The real reason for this is the amount of things we will be visiting. We start off taking pictures by the huge
Medina gates. Some of us set up watchdogs and dodge the cars to take quick pictures in front of the magnificent gates, while others trudge uphill to the “garden.” I could probably count the number of flowers there on two hands, but this was just the beginning. Back in the bus, we drive to other gates surrounding the medina, far larger and far ‘dressier’ than the first set. Obviously our previous pictures of the gates just wouldn’t do any more, so we renew the medley of flashes. One such gate over looking the souk quarter (far less touristy than Marakech) had a tiny art exhibit inside. What better fun to have with a handful of paintings than interpret them, and as our explanations got farther and farther fetched, the halls of the exhibit echoed with more and more laughter. Another jump on the bus took us to what the guide informs us is the world’s largest exhibit. Walking around the royal silo’s I can’t help thinking of the Aegean stables. We wander around the halls for a while and find the newest part, ironically the only section overrun with plants. The guide informs us that the newer side was built in a rush and thus was lower quality (obviously). There was a huge earthquake in 1755, so large it destroyed much of the monuments here. The main part of the silo, however, was still intact, though the guide shows us a fault in the refurbishing, an area where they walled over the small holes. He explains the small holes in the walls of the silo help suck out the moisture and keep the walls from bowing out and the humidity low. FINALLY! Since I arrived in
Rabat I’ve wondered what those holes in the walls were for. I guess they’re not because the original architects were fans of pigeon nests, after all. The entire venue has this peaceful aura of stability; built a thousand years ago to literally house three years of food for the entire army, and it’s still kicking. On our way out we notice some Arabic writing over the dusty doors. It must be Arabic for ‘Wash Me.’ We continue to the only Mosque in
Morocco open to non-Muslims. It also serves as the tomb for Moulay Ismail, and the guide tells us we can take some pictures. It either isn’t prayer time, or not many Muslims frequent the tourist mosque, but either way we won’t disturb anyone with our cameras, so I take mine out for some quick memory markers. Leaving the mosque we turn the corner and follow the guide into a Berber shop, where they are carving silver animals and (of course) the hand of
Fatima into the black metal pieces. As the Koran forbids the portrayal of humans and animals in icons that include art pieces, Berbers (PC term Amazerie) are the main creators of such pieces. The store is pretty cool but obviously this section of the tour is just to lighten our pockets of those heavy dirham. I remember reading about how guides bring you to shops they have deals with, those shops raising their prices for tourists and giving the guide a cut, so I decide against buying anything here.
The tour of Meknes at an end, we head to a small region and again jump down the bus steps. The first thing that strikes us upon leaving our air-conditioned transit is the Doctor-Suess trees. Dotting the hillside, skinny trunks and thin branches with tufts of hair at the end surround us. I feel like I’m in “Oh the Places You’ll Go,” and can’t get the images out of my head as we wind through the hillside medina to lunch. Somehow we make it to what appears to be a bed-and-breakfast, though if location is everything, this place has nothing. This first-impression, of course, is wrong, as the inside is both furbished fabulously, as well as hides a glorious rooftop vista. Inside, Mat reminds me that I miss Shipley’s donuts (why would you bring something like that up?!?), but I quickly forget this when our chicken tangine comes out. We chill at the house for a while before returning to the bus and driving just outside the town, to Volubilis. Geff, Mat, and I start exclaiming “Volubilis!” like gladiator warriors as we get off the bus at the Roman ruins.
First Impression? ‘The term ‘ruin’ suits this place well. There’s nothing here!’ But walking up the hill we see the ancient city unfold behind the rocks. Another glorious view awaits us atop the hillside, along with the scorching sun, which makes sure none of the ruins are hidden in the shade. Once again, earthquakes have ravaged the town, and much of what we see has been rebuilt from excavations. The excavations have not yet finished, and the arena has not even been found yet – I guess I’ll just have to come back to see how things are going in a few years. We did see the Temple to Jupiter (group picture!), the market, public washrooms, hot tubs, hammams (again, it’s not just an Islamic practice, actually they were first started by the Romans), the gates, some rich peoples houses (replete with their gorging chamber), and the brothel (I have some interesting photos with an *ahem* iconic rock in the foreground). Apparently the city was used by the Romans as both a bread basket and olive oil source, and it’s built on a very strategic high ground. After the tour we strolled back to the bus for a quick trip to a Fes hotel, where we checked in and konked out. I recharged the metaphorical batteries, worked a little on my medical school essays, and chilled at the external spiral staircase overlooking the now star-topped Fez.
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