Friday, November 13 ~ The Road to Rabat

Reluctantly we left Fez about nine a.m. after a quiet breakfast with friends in the hotel dining room.  Yet again, a crazy, long, sense assaulting day we were a little happy to be on the road again.  Before the trip, while studying the itinerary, I knew we would have a lot of bus time.  I like the bus tours because you see so many interesting things that you would otherwise miss if you just flew into the cities or zoomed by on trains.  You also have time and quiet moments to bond with your fellow travelers.  Soon you know who will always be a few minutes late, or which couples are beginning to feel a little stress from so much togetherness.  Elva and I both travel well.  Since our bus was hardly full we would both take window seats, near enough to each other to share comments and snacks, but far enough apart to catch a nap or read the guidebook.

We started off with a quick look at the morning paper.  Kahlid had explained to us the differences between our calendar, the Gregorian calendar, and the Muslim, and Berber, and Jewish dating systems.  The newspaper gives all those dates in the “issue line” every day.

 

Today was full of surprises as we headed through the gentle hills dotted with fields and even lakes, to the current capital of Morocco.  The main source of fresh water here comes from the melting snows of the High Atlas and even Mid Atlas Mountains.  This lake is a reservoir created by the Ait Ouarda Dam north of Fez.

Our first stop was in Volubilis.  Why I should have been surprised to visit here confounds me.  After all, I knew the Romans had been in Africa, in Morocco, and I surely know that everywhere they went they left the place in ruins!  (Sorry, couldn’t resist!)

We met our local guide who gave us a detailed rundown on the history of the Roman Empire in Morocco.  The town was thriving from the 3^rd Century BC to AD 40.  Inn 45 AD Claudius raised its status to a “free town” becoming one of the most important cities in Mauretania Tingitana which comprised the northwestern Africa.  Particularly what would now be the northern portion of Morocco.  Ironically another leftover from those days are the Spanish cities of Ceuta and Melilla.  These cities are enclaves on the Mediterranean coast.  Residents require their passports to commute to work as the cities are wholly under Spanish rule.

 

 

 

 

The town in its heyday was very well planned and with fine Roman architecture.

The size and proportions of the buildings are classic and one really needs an appreciation of the skill and determination of the ancient builders.  Having seen ruins in Italy, Greece, Spain, France, Turkey and so many places I still always marvel at their existence after so many centuries and so much invasion of our “modern world.”

 

The capital is identified by the remaining foundations and the placement of a sacrificial altar at the base of its steps.   The bricks are thanks to a recognition by the French that, rather than duplicate with artificial means the pillars and stone work, they would reconstruct with obvious additions what would have been there.

The Basilica was in excellent condition when the excavations began here.  It and the Triumphal Arch were the sure indications that the historical site had been found. 

Stork nests crown most every sky reaching pillar and chimney in Morocco.

 

 

 

A view of the still standing Tangier Gate - this road led from the city to Tangier and on to Spain. 

The wealthy lived in beautifully decorated homes that are now identifiable by the remaining mosaics.  Remember that these works of art are 2000 or more years old and suffered beneath undisturbed layers of time!

 



This homes are identified now by the remaining mosaics.  Below is the House of the Labours of Hercules.  It depicts the 12 trials of his strength and goodness.

A “bestiary” was kept for entertainment.

There were remnants of the under floor heating system.  These large tunnels managed the warm water that heated floors, filled the troughs for the toilets, and also filled pools and fountains.

The fertile fields nearby made this metropolis famous for its granary and olive oil production.  The olive press was near the House of Orpheus.  After being crushed between the stones the pulp was poured into baskets with planks of wood on which a beam exerted constant pressure to extrude the oils.  Oil flowed into attached tanks and when water was added the superior oil floated .  It could then be skimmed off and stored in earthen vats and then ‘bottled’.

 

The main shopping street separated the poor people from the wealthy.  Evidence shows that store owners lived at the back of the workshop much as they do today.  Shopkeepers ranked higher than the servants and slaves, or the ordinary poor but lower than the Romans themselves.  Thus it is logical that the main street is the dividing line between the quarters.

 

We always enjoyed chatting with our guide and helpers to find out more about their lives.  Here Connie was spending a few minutes with Hakkim while everyone regrouped to move on.

Our next stop was in Meknes, which like Fes and Casablanca and Marrakesh, is a former capital of Morocco.  Turns out that until modern times, the capital was wherever the current king wanted to live.  It was in 1672 that the Moulay Ismail chose Meknes to became the Imperial City.  The ambitiousness of the building program that followed caused the thievery of the ruins of Volubilis and the Palais in Marrakesh.

Moulay Ismail is most famous though, not for his building and the bringing of Meknes to be a world power, but for his manhood.   He is known to have had 4 wives and 550 concubines but there is a discrepancy in how many children he may have fathered.  The Guinness Book of World Records says that they can verify 888 children.  But for this first ruler of the still ruling Alaouite dynasty, there are records that indicate he may have had 1,174 call him Dad!

He was also known to take great delight in displaying the heads of his enemies, either political or physical threats.  In Fez alone he skewered between 400 and 1,000 to establish his claim to the Sultancy.  In the 55 years of his power killed over 30,000 off the battlefield.

With the reign of this powerful, not necessarily ruthless leader when considered during his time frame, the independence of Morocco was assured. 

Meknes awaited us just over the hills, past the olive groves and in beautiful warm sunlight.

 

We stopped to view the renowned Bab Mansour el-Aleuj is the Gate of the Victorious Renegade.  The gate was started by Moulay Ismail when he first chose Meknes as his city but not finished until the reign of his son, Moulay Abdallah almost 100 years later.   Just for perspective, the wall is 52 feet high.  That is five stories tall. And the main arch is 26 feet wide, allowing for impressive military parades.  The towers are loggias which now are often used for art or museum displays. 

The history of Meknes is intricate and might be of ongoing interest if you want to learn how Morocco evolved.  But as a tourist on a mission to reach Rabat we only had time for a little touring before lunch.

Inside the gate was this beautiful reflecting pond that is in proportion to the palace behind it.

The University of Moulay Ismail.  What else would it be called?

 

The elegant Bab el- Makhzen leads to the Royal Kasbah.

 

Delicate stucco carving and zellij belie the massive importance of the entry doors.  As is often found within doors across Europe and Africa, there is a smaller door.  This allows the gate keeper to be sure who is entering before swinging wide the main gates to allow the entry of horses and carts or the entourages of foreign dignitaries.

We spent a short time touring past the palace walls, no pictures allowed, and past government buildings, again no photos permitted.  The city was pretty but not remarkable to us by this time in the trip.

We stopped for a leisurely lunch at the same kind of restaurant we ate in on the day to Marrakesh and it was just as delicious and again we ate on the covered patio.  Elva and I were glad that we decided to share a pizza since it satisfied both of us and we left with some to go.

A funny thing happened while we were upstairs to use the ladies room.  The door was locked.  We waited while the men came and went from the men’s room.  After a time of jiggling the door handle with no response such as, ‘just a minute’ or “I’m in here”, I left the line and found a waitress to tell her the door was locked.  She knocked repeatedly with no answer so I thought she went to get a key.  But she returned with a table knife to try the lock.  That didn’t work.  The waitress went downstairs to get a key and returned.  Just as she put the key in the lock and turned it, a woman came out drying her hands.  This event took at least ten minutes.  We were so surprised.

In the meantime, some of the ladies had begun to use the men’s room.  No shock there.  I think we have all done that at one time or another, if no men were using it.  I said I would watch the door as I was at the end of the line. When Donna exited I smiled and held out my hand.  She fished in her purse and placed a shiny U.S. dime in my hand and said, “Thank you!”  We all laughed and returned to Khalid’s care.  He was getting nervous at how long this break was taking.

Maybe the lady was smoking?  Surely not!

We passed through groves of olives, saw locals walking across the farm lands to what seems like nowhere, and some small villages.  We passed some Country Souks where the farmers come to make deals for whatever they grow or need.  No women are ever seen at these.  Wagons or crate stalls are set up but by this time of day, most of the business was done and the men were chuffing.

I actually watched a movie on my own.  I had downloaded I Want to Live before I left home.

 

The Afriquia where we stopped before entering the city of Rabat was in quite a nice, large plaza.  There was a bank, banquet hall, a restaurant, games, a small amusement park, a water park, and a furniture discount store.

We passed a lot of pretty parks playgrounds that seemed fitting for a busy city of one million people.

The architecture of this ocean side town was reminiscent of early Florida or California.

 

Since this is a center of government and of commerce the signage is user friendly.  In smaller towns some directions are only in Arabic despite French being the official language.

 

We passed the Medina where Friday night seems to be even more intense judging by the number of unlicensed street vendors outside the walls and the people rushing by.  They used the islands in the street to avoid the sidewalk congestion.

 

 

 

Although it is 'rush hour', still the men chuff.  Note how, even in a  modern city,  there are no women here and all the chairs face the street.  This was a small place but I am sure it would soon fill up.

We reached our destination and checked in at the nicely quiet LeDiwan Rabat hotel.  It was modern and only one short block from the tram that connects the city to the suburbs across the river.

 

The side street view is a bit different.

Our room was ready and was quite nice.  Lovely bathroom with a tub.  That is always great for me!  The glass door opened to a Juliet Balcony overlooking a not too busy intersection.  To the right we could see the tram stop.

 

 

We looked around for a while and were glad to settle in for the final days of our trip.  We took the opportunity to repack for the trip home.  Yea!  Everything fit.  We ate our cold  pizza, still delicious while we also watched, in horror, with the rest of the world the unfolding of the tragedy in Paris.  Elva and I have both, of course, been to Paris and love it.  What’s not to love about the City of Light?  Elva reminded me that we had hoped to take our granddaughters there together this past summer.  May God give us peace, and soon.  No one should have to live in fear and hate.