Meknes: Mud-Brick Palaces and Roman City Ruins

I woke about 9am to the news that Carol has a sore throat and can hardly speak. Otherwise she is OK however and could still get out and about.

After a nice breakfast we headed out, armed only with a crap Lonely Planet map to find our way. We were soon out of the medina and on a busy street, which took us eventually around to Bab el-Mansour, the huge, richly decorated gate built in 1732, and he Place el-Hadim, where Moulay Ismail held his announcements and executions. Now it’s a big empty square with a stream of traffic at one end and a row of cafes with outdoor seating along one side, but there’s still an epic feel to the space.

We found a nearby pharmacy and successfully bought some throat lozenges, then entered the Dar Jamaï Museum. Another dusty collection of fabrics, weapons, potter and woodwork with signs in Arabic and French. A little mob of kittens lived in the central garden. Upstairs there was a nice room traditionally furnished with rugs and cushions which looked very comfortable.

Then we plunged into the busy medina, following the Lonely Planet walking tour and getting completely lost about halfway along the route. Carol gamely soldiered on but was flagging by the end; the sun beat down when we were out of the covered alleys. In contrast to Fez, there were more modern wares on display: lots of junk and less craftsmanship. We went through a busy foot market, a street of woodworkers, one of metal workers, a ‘flea market’ of sorts, and past a lot of dodgy fake-Adidas tracksuits.

At one stage a utility truck, driving through an alley running through an old gateway, hit a shop built into the side of it, and a huge argument ensued in fiery Arabic as the stream of traffic through the passage was blocked.

Eventually we emerged near the Bab el-Mansour and took a place at one of the cafes for lunch and lemon soft drinks. Then I took photos of Carol next to a beautiful stallion that a guy was displaying for tourist photo ops.

After a look at the nearby Place Lalla Aorda, another big square where Moulay Ismail used to inspect his Black Guard, we made our way back to the hotel. We rested in the room for a while, I had a swim in the pool, then I left Carol to recover a bit and went out for a walk by myself, on a long roundabout route trying to get my bearings and to find the mausoleum of Moulay Ismail. I got lost and was corrected by a bunch of guys sitting in an alley, one of whom spoke very good English, and then after a long walk came around from the other direction and met them again, to laughter from us all. One of them guided me back on the right path and I finally found the mausoleum and had a look at Moulay Ismail’s tomb.

Then I walked across an open square and looked at the Koubbat as-Safara, a small building once used to receive foreign ambassadors. Nearby were steps down into cool vaults under the square that were once used for storing food. Finally I made my way back to the hotel, buying some water on the way.

Later, after an unsuccessful attempt to get on the internet to book a car, and a call to our original taxi driver Hassan to take him up on his offer to go to Volubilis and Moulay Idriss tomorrow, we had dinner again by the cactus garden (with a lot of middle-aged French tourists).

I’m writing this from our room now while a huge domestic plays out in the alley outside our window, a woman shouting hysterically (even calling for the police) while others try to calm her down. What with multiple arguments, cats on heat, shouting kids and the occasional motorbike, all I can say is thank the gods for earplugs.

6th October

We were at breakfast at 8am and out the door half an hour later, to meet Hassan in his petit taxi, who took us a short drive to the petrol station and ushered us into a grande taxi driven by a fellow called Jousef. They did their little deal in rapid-fire Arabic and we were off into the countryside for the Roman ruins of Volubilis, 33km from the city.

Volubilis is a spectacular ruined Roman city overlooking a wide plains, and while not as monumental as the city of Ephesus I saw in Turkey, there were some stunning mosaics in situ, a well preserved basilica and forum area and triumphal arch, and many buildings lining a grand road between it and the city entrance where it was very easy to imagine the city packed with people going about their daily lives. Bathing rooms with underfloor heating, central courtyards with pools in them, shopfronts opening onto colonnaded street pavements; all just needed the brush of imagination to bring them alive. The stones of the fountain in the central square were worn into smooth curves by centuries of use. Rectangular plinths inscribed with Latin letters in the forum had feet-shaped depressions on their tops where statues once stood.

It was a very hot day and we both sweltered under the sun. Carol was unfortunately not very well with a bad cold, of all things.

After two hours we returned to the gate and found Joussef annoyed with us, since he had though for some reason we would be one hour – ridiculous, as we’d confirmed with Hassan many times it would be two hours at Volubilis and one at Moulay Idriss. Anyway, he grudgingly agreed to continue, and we climbed back into his battered vehicle (lined inside with a plastic leopard print – I’m mean, actually pictures of leopards) and were taken to the hilltop town of Moulay Idriss.

A short walk took us to the main square where we made a beeline for the nearest cafe seats under shady umbrellas, and ordered mint tea.

I had a quick Look at the Mausoleum of Moulay Idriss ( a great-grandson of the prophet Mohammed), but non-Muslims aren’t allowed inside. Then we went to an internet cafe in an attempt to find a major car hire company in Meknes – without success.

Back to Meknes. Youssef was given 400 Dh, 50 more than the agreed price, and he still tried to con us extra for petrol, which I ignored. We found a nearby bank and got more money, then gave in and entered the strange air-conditioned Twilight Zone of a McDonalds next door for lunch, and a moment to regather ourselves.

Here we came up with an alternate plan – instead of having to return to Fez to get a car, we decided to train to Marrakesh and hire a car there, thus skipping a couple of days of largely uneventful car travel, and the cost of returning the car to a different destination. We’ve since amended this plan to stop in Rabat for a night two and a half hours hence, then do the remaining five hours to Marrakesh after that. Carol has to regain her strength too.

I’m now writing this from our hotel room – we’re both hot and worn out, and Carol is feeling pretty crap.

The ‘call to the faithful’ has begun again outside. This morning at 4.45am there was a particularly long and loud call for some reason or other that laughed off the flimsy barrier to my sleeping self called earplugs. I suppose that living in the heart of a medina hardens you against continual cacophony … unlike the rhiads in Fez, this hotel is not at all a cool and quiet haven from the madness outside.

We had a long rest in our room, then went down to the restaurant for the third time in a row, but we’ve come to the realisation that the food there is pre-prepared and re-heated, and the best part of the meal is the Moroccan salad that is the first course. There’s a man playing a lute-like guitar, wearing a jelaba and fez, but he has a very limited repertoire and plays the same tunes every night. We’ve deduced that this place is used by some French travel agents and that’s where they get all their clientele (in Fez, Cleo told us the travel agents take up to 25% of the room rate). In any case, there is no care or pride in this place anymore and it has the air of a business slowly dying. We’re glad to be leaving tomorrow.

We’ve gone a bit hysterical and are laughing our heads off at jokes about macaroons – I even took a macaroon back to the room so we could set up a photo of me being ‘caught in the act’ gollum-like in the corner, eating one in the middle of the night!

Ready for a change of scenery (and definitely a change of hotel) – tomorrow, Rabat!