Volubilis and Meknes, Morocco

View from the foggy bus window

Two cups of coffee, a thick bowel of leek and white bean soup and a large glass of orange juice. Far too much liquid to consume before climbing into the white tour bus. Really, Kara should have known better. It didn't help that it was raining, the continual patter of drops hitting the windscreen and causing the windows to fog as we motored off and out of Casablanca.

Almost alone on the road the minibus chugged along, splashing through the dark puddles, past grey and wet fields of crops, uniform government housing and the largest cork forest of Northern Africa. Our tour guide Yassine, merrily handing out tidbits of facts "Morocco is a polygamist society" but I think one wife is enough... chuckle chuckle. "November the 6th is a holiday, and was the day that the Kingdom of Morocco reclaimed the South from the Spanish, when 30,000 pilgrims marched from the North to the South holding the holy Koran high above their heads". The bus was muggy and warm, and Kara sat with her legs tightly crossed. 

We drove past small villages: white square houses clumped together on hillsides. As the road became more rural we saw men riding tired donkeys or pulling at them with leashes as they carried produce, straw mats and home equipment walking down in the clay road gutter. The rain continued to drizzle down and the views were obstructed by clouds but we could still see how green the fields were. Large cacti grew into fences and the soil was black and healthy looking supporting plantations of cereal, olives, grapes and other fruits.

Entering Volubilis

The bus stopped just past the holy village of Moulay Idriss, where pilgrims can travel six times a year rather than journey to the sacred Mecca, at the ancient Roman village of Volubilis. Built on the fertile plains just 100kms from the Atlantic Ocean the ruins are a UNESCO heritage site and the best preserved in Morocco. As noted in our lonely planet book 'Excavations have indicated that the site was originally settled by Carthaginian traders in the third century BC'. 

Following the old paths

Cloudy views

Ruins of Volubilis

Ruins of Volubilis

Annexed by Romans in AD40 the city grew quickly as a remote trading post at the end of the imperial road and was the home of over 18,000 people before being deserted around AD280. 

Stu admiring mosaics

Tania by the old capital

It was cold and raining when we got out of the van. The muddy ground was slippery but we set off with our unenthusiastic local guide who didn't look like he was enjoying standing in the rain talking with us, well probably as much as we enjoyed standing there getting sopping wet, with him. 

Basilica de Volubilis

Decumanus Maximus

But rain or not, we wandered over the ruins and took some photos of different stone and marble monuments, the baths of Galen, the House of Orpheus, Temple of Jupiter, Acrobat school, the library with its secret tunnel to the neighbouring brothels. The clouds were so low and almost in a way rolled across the ground seeping between the ruins. Most remarkable were the small square floor mosaics across the had-been houses.

Down to Tangier gate

Ancient road way

Chicken for lunch

It was still raining an hour later when we got on the bus. A perfect time for a nap between the drying jackets before waking at the project for Human development, a woman and child's refuge. 

By an organization which was supported by the tour company we ate some delicious local food, spiced eggplant mezze with hard bread and a white bean soup. 

Followed by slow-baked chicken smothered in thick sweet onion sauce and preserved lemon. We finished with strong mint tea, fresh fruit and a lesson in arabic.  

We next stopped at the ancient imperial city of Meknes, with its over twenty-five kilometres of opposing, high orange clay walls. First settled in the tenth century by the Berbers the city slowly grew and came into its own when the founder of the Alawite dynasty died and his brother and successor came to reign. The new Sultan Moulay Ismail became a dominate ruler of the region between 1672-1727. He begun his monarchy at age 26 by killing off his own 83 brothers and half brothers who would not submit to his rule. Over the first thirty years of his reign he continued a violent fight to bring most of Morocco under his control and grew into his name 'the Bloodthirsty'.

Inside Heri es-Sounai

Lights in Heri es-Sounai

Growing the cities he conquered and building many entirely new ones. It's said that his cruelty was legendary and the cheerful ease with which he would chop of the heads of lazy servants or labourers possibly contributes to his hold over the country. He taxed returning pirates that sailed up the Iberian coasts into Europe and the royal treasury grew. After returning to Meknes he begun to build an imperial palace for himself, the city walls which he covered in the heads of enemies and a city Kasbah, leaving not just a legacy but the foundation of modern Morocco.

Outside stables

Straight views in all directions

In his capital of Meknes, Moulay was famed for his black guard. A notorious slave tribe of 16,000 sub-Saharan warriors, which by the time of his death had increased 10 fold. He kept them loyal through a mix of fear, supplying a bountiful supply of woman to be their wives and raising their children as part of the guard. Alongside the slaves he maintained over 12,000 luxurious Arabian horses, 4 wives and 500 consorts, leading to a recorded almost 900 children.

Driving through and around the walls of Meknes

Our Meknes guide jumped in our bus and took us first to Heri es-Souani. These were Moulay Ismail's immense granaries and stables. The building, built by his slaves, was at the time the largest in the world and protected the city from hunger. It's estimated that the granary could store enough grains to feed the city for ten to fifteen years if and when the impending Ottoman empire struck. The buildings were gigantic with massive sandstone walls and tiny windows which created cool storage conditions. Underneath was also an intricate water system of channels designed to move around cool water. He pointed out similarities to the large mosque (Mesquita) in Cordoba, Spain which had been built during the same dynasty. 

Restored city walls

Entrance to Mausoleum of Moulay Ismail

Following the high city walls we next ventured to the Mausoleum of Moulay Ismail, believed to bring good luck or baraka and divine blessing to all that visit. At his final resting place you pass through several large, tiled and pale-yellow courtyards before reaching the lavishly designed Moroccan tomb.

Inside the mausoleum 

Little water feature

Inside the ancient courtyard

Nondescript from the outside, the tomb itself is decorated with graceful inner arches and marble columns that provide a pilgrim tranquility. There's a pretty little fountain and when we were there, busloads of excited Spanish tourists. It was a small part of ancient history that we enjoyed being able to see. After that the clouds had finally cleared enough to allow us a glimpse of the setting sun.

Side view of a city gate

Gardens around the wall

'Praise to Allah' decorating the walls

A warm glow settled across the city and locals bustling about scrambled over the nearby markets. We made one last stop at a large entrance along the city walls before moving on to Fez.

Tot siens,
Kara (Tania/Stu and by association John).

Casablanca, Morocco

Casablanca's palm lined main street

We fumbled at the ticket machine. Was there an English version? Why isn't the credit card working? Why isn't this card working either? Let's try again. 

Ok, let's try another time. Eventually we walked downstairs to find platform one with white second class tickets to Casablanca in our sticky hands. 

But we never anticipated that the train would be so full that it was difficult to get on let alone to get a seat! By the time our hour long ride south across the fertile Chawiya plain was pulling into Casablanca we had wiggled our way through the warm-bodied masses onto seats. A short, direct walk to the hotel and we rested with a mint tea on red velvet chairs, gathering our bearings.

Fit for a princess

Casablanca or just Kaza is the largest city of Morocco and as a port city it is situated on the Atlantic Ocean. A powerhouse, it's considered the largest financial centre on the African continent. The city's present name, Casa Branca or 'white house', originates from the Portuguese who in the 15th century AD took control of the city, then named Anfa and aimed to destroy the 'pirate safe haven'. The city remained under Portuguese rule for some time before Spanish ruling and then French conquest. What's most interesting is that the area where Casablanca was founded and settled was by the Berbers 'wild people' as far back as the 7th century BC, then later by the Phoenicians and then the Romans.

All this history was at the back of our minds though when we entered our beautiful room. Pink, so pink. Pink toilet paper and pink bedding. 

Pink walls, tables and curtains. Like something out of the royal palaces of Aladdin, we couldn't help but giggle and smirk at its tackiness but yet it all kind of worked. 

Sellers waiting for buyers to wander by

It was so warm outside but we wanted to go and explore. After getting a map from the hotel reception where the concierge circled big yellow marks over everything we ventured towards Kaza's ancient medina. Home of over one million people, towering on top of each other in a small eleven kilometre round neighbourhood. 

Walking, we passed restaurants, half finished and abandoned buildings and looked in awe down each road we crossed. Apartment exteriors were dirty and the footpath, when there was one, was broken and muddy with litter piled in the gutters. Taxis honked at us and we dashed over the road several times holding onto our shirts that tried to flutter behind us. Reaching the medina souk salesmen called out to us in French, "madam, mademoiselle, madam" - 'il suffit de regarder', followed by 'just look'. There was a lot going on but not enough people to hide behind. Showing interest, even the flick of an eye, drew the attention of an overeager seller. 

Exploring the medina

Medina minet

We took a triangular route and as casually as possible shifted our gazes sideways to discreetly peer into the stalls. Across Morocco each city has an ancient medina, which rough translates to 'city'. Every medina has similar characteristics, a local bathhouse called hammam, a public bakery, an Islamic school (which since 9/11 have been government regulated), a mosque and the busy shop stalls. Here, each little shop was jam-packed with merchandise. Coloured robes, pointed leather shoes, copper trays and stainless steel pots, jewellery of all kinds and lacquered wooden boxes that magically folded out. We stopped to try something sweet off a street vendor: wet, moist and crumbly but with the consistency and feel of couscous or a small polenta we weren't sure what it was, later we found out it was semolina! Delicious and sugary nevertheless. 

Sweet treat

Cookies from the Moulay idress bakery

Coming out to a main road we decided to walk to Rick's Cafe, made famous in the 1940's film Casablanca, which wasn't actually filmed in Morocco but is still catching the tailwind of visiting tourists. Off we set on a long winded journey back and forth down the wrong roads across from the ports, past the train station again and along the waterfront. 

White houses of Casablanca or Kaza

By the time we reached the closed cafe we were parched, tired and with heavy legs tried to find the closest route back. Some young boys played football on the terrace across the road and a man stood alone twisting black cotton on the trees along the roadside. We walked back, taking a shortcut through the medina, walking quickly through the maze of streets bombarded by school children and parents doing the 5pm pick up. 'Welcome to Morocco' men huskily and quietly whispered as we walked by. 

Up early for the breakfast buffet, we intended to spend our morning at the Hassan II mosque. The largest mosque in Morocco and on the continent of Africa. Covering over nine hectares the huge white marble and concrete complex stands half over land and half over the Atlantic Ocean. 

After the death of King Mohammed V in 1961, King Hassan II wished to build a mausoleum to honor the passed King, with the intention to "reflect the fervor and veneration with which this illustrious man was regarded". The country's best artisans were invited to come forward and submit plans and it was to be the most ambitious structure built in Morocco. Completed in 1993 the mosque blends Islamic architecture and Moroccan elements, reflects moorish influences while featuring an urban design.

Hasan II Mosque

Waiting at the entrance

Side door

From the taxi the elegant middle tower or minaret, stood peering across the Kasa landscape. Considered the tallest religious structure in the world it's oriented towards the holy city of Mecca. We had just missed the 9am tour entry but, allowed in to catch up the group, we entered the prayer hall.

Inside the grand hall

Stunning lighting

'

Large enough to house the Notre Dame of Paris the hall was decorated in cedar wood, red carpets and a ceiling so high it could have been a night sky. We couldn't find the English tour so we jumped in alongside an Italian/Multilingual group but couldn't really understand the explanations. Following along we went underground into the hammam or bathhouse where the tour ended. Unsatisfied we attempted and negotiated to re-enter again at 10am taking more opportunities to take photos of the beautiful interior. Finishing up again in the bathrooms we ventured out and walked around the exterior.

To the entrance

Side door and Minet

Outdoor water fountain

Mosaic decorations 

Beautiful stairway

Downsairs Hamman

Rick's cafe was still closed so after returning to the hotel we took a taxi to the aptly named and ginormous Morocco mall, where we dined on lemon and olive chicken tangine with mint tea for lunch. On the drive we passed kilometres of slums, hidden behind large white walls. Houses barely held together along the road, like a wild wave smothering the hillside; housing families who barely if at all make the local minimum wage of 300euro a month.

Lunch Tangine! 

The local way to pour mint tea

We returned to the hotel, grateful for our warm beds and clean sheets but we didn't stay long before popping out again. Walking past several Art Deco buildings and the walled royal palace, we made our way into the Nueva villa. During the time of the French protectore and as Casablana mushroomed into a city around the 1920's a French quarter was designed including a souk and new medina. Now almost one hundred years old it doesn't have the same elegance and flair it probably once did, then attracting Europe's high class as a cosmopolitan city. Today, full with tourist items and markets, we found a small nook filled with olives. Olives of so many varieties, pale white or pale orange, rich burgundies, grass greens, black kalamatas, flavoured in so many ways and more. 

Olives, olives, olives

The other side- more olives! 

Side entrance to the royal palace

Then crossing over a bridge and into what could have only been described as an open butchery, caught by a sweet smell, like cut grass floating over an ablution block, we jumped off the road into a packed patisserie. There was a scent of almond and cinnamon and women covered from head to toe cackled happily choosing from golden trays of sweets. In our limited French we purchased chewy macaroons and chocolate and vanilla slices which were carefully packages in red boxes adorned with blue ribbon. Back on the filthy streets we looked around some more before heading back. 

Later that evening, we trundled downstairs and met with the other excited travelers of our Moroccan G Adventures tour group!! We went for dinner together and talked about the upcoming days as well as where we had come from. Soon after we called in an early night after such a busy day. 

Tot siens,

Kara (Tania/Stu and by association John)