Armed with a better understanding of the people and culture of Morocco we arrived in Meknes feeling good about this portion of the journey. We reserved a room before we left Fez and the cab ride was directly to the hotel without any deviations meant to increase the price of the trip.

Our hotel, Hotel Rif, named after the Rif Mountain range no doubt, is a four star hotel, but not near the quality of our previous accommodations. It was the 1960's since it had last been remodeled and the rooms were much more sparse, but it was clean and relatively inexpensive, equivalent to a two-star in the states. The best part was that the mini bar had an ice tray, so I could make ice for my ankle whenever I needed. The strange thing that we slowly became aware if is that the hotel was virtually empty. We can't recall seeing any other guests, riding the elevator with other guests, and the bell hops stationed themselves in the lounge just outside of our room whenever we were in the hotel with hopes of being able to run some errand for us. In a hotel with over a hundred rooms, that was strange.

If September 11 was meant to hurt the West only, it has had a much greater affect on their fellow Muslims. The Muslim nations of the world that rely on tourism as their bread and butter are the ones suffering. It has become evident that if we really want to show our power in the world, it would be best to start booking tours to the world's corners and show the benefit of embracing the West, rather than sending our military as a messenger.

We ditched our bags and headed out right away for the tourist sites. Meknes is sufficiently small that walking to the medina from the Ville Nouvelle is doable. It was a beautiful sunny winter day, so we headed across town, buying water, bread and pastries along the way.

This would be a good time to talk about doors. Doors and doorways are very important in the medina. As you can see by the pictures there is a great amount of effort put into the decoration of the doors. The one thing that we learned after touring the music school, what lies behind one these ornately decorated doors is usually a home that is much more grand. If you see a green door, that would mean that a very important person lives behind that door. You can see on the right what you might find.

Here are some other doors:






As soon as we got near the medina again, we ran into the same problem as in Fez, no signs, the map stinks, and it's impossible to find our way through. Meknes is one big fort that was built over many centuries and the walls of the fort intersect at odd places and gave little indication of where to enter or exit. Here's where we should have followed the traditionally dressed men who motioned us down a dark alley as it was the way through. We ignored them and learned another lesson in trust. We finally made our way out and found the main gate, the Bab Mounsour.

Meknes was the ruling city of Morocco during the reign of Moulay Ismail in the 17th and 18th centuries. During this period Ismail created the walled complex, 25km of wall which still stand, mostly because he was able early in his reign to subdue his enemies in the region and was able to turn his efforts toward building great public works. His reign lasted 55 years, however after he died, Meknes took a back seat to Fez and Marakesh. The city saw a bit of a revival in the early 20th century when the French chose Meknes as their military headquarters. French farmers quickly followed and settled in the fertile valleys. Today the Moroccan people have taken over the farming and the French have all but left.

The Bab Mounsour is the old gate to the imperial city of Moulay Ismail and is the central point by which all directions are given. Directly across a small square is the Mausoleum of Moulay Ismail considered the greatest figure in Moroccan history. Because of this reverence his tomb, usually closed to non-believers, is open to the public. The mausoleum is a magnificent example of Moorish architecture, well maintained and is rather peaceful.






After the mausoleum there is not much to see here that is different from Fez except that there are fewer people trying to sell their wares and show you around the medina. Having been through the medina in Fez we eschewed a walk through here. Instead we walked the couple of kilometers along the ancient walls of the city to the Heri es-Souani, or the Stables. These were the stables where the Moulay kept his horses, all 12,000 of them. The stables also served as the granaries that stored the various grains used to feed the horses. The design of them is rather ingenious with massive thick walls and water channels running beneath the floor which kept the feed cool and dry. The size of the stables is staggering and you can see by the pictures. A few of the vaults have been restored while the remainder exist in varying degrees of ruin. They are such an imposing sight that they have been used in the filming of The Last Temptation of Christ.






Adjacent to the stables is the Agdal Basin which is an artificial lake that was used as a reservoir for Ismail's gardens as well as a pleasure center for the sultan. Today the water is used to irrigate the local fields, however it is not fit for human immersion and it tends to be filled with trash and whatever makes it's way into the lake.

As we were pretty far out of town at this point, cabs were impossible to find, so we were forced to walk back into town. But instead of retracing our steps we took the route taken by various citizens and donkey carts. Following the wall and using what sense of direction that we had developed we were making our way quite well, when two young men caught up to us eager to use their English. This is where we learned a lesson about Moroccans that was very welcome. It was first noticed at the stables. We got there during lunch and had to wait an hour for it to open. As I sat on a bench overlooking the lake I saw dozens of young people walk by. We exchanged pleasantries, however not once was I hounded to buy something or see an uncle's shop, etc. Across the lake could be seen the neighborhood where these young people were coming from and it was obvious that this was a more middle class neighborhood and they were dressed like any other teenager home from school and out with friends.

The two young men were very interested in us, but mostly wanted to improve their English. In fact they were carrying one of their text books with them which was a book of idioms. We shared our favorites, learned about a student's life, which is pretty meager, and talked about Morocco. They walked with us all the way back to the Bab Mounsour, safely back on familiar ground. At the end we shook and hands and exchanged email addresses. Rarely would you find such kind and considerate young people in the West as we found with these young men.

Again we declared success and made our way back to the hotel via the main street through the medina ( a new definition of traffic jam), down through a park built inside an old fortress. Eventually my ankle gave out and we had to taxi back to the hotel. It was getting towards dark and it was New Year's eve.

More background. Traveling the short distance from Fez to Meknes we experienced a major shift in culture. While Fez is the religious capitol of Morocco, Meknes is definitely not. We saw some women in the traditional dress, but a significant number of women were dressed as if they were on their way to work or school on a western university campus. Meknes is far more western than we had experienced since being in Morocco and we were about to experience how western.

I have a New Year's tradition that I am very fond of and that I have held onto for the past half dozen years or so. I go to bed at exactly the same time as any other evening during the year. Then at midnight I am awakened by revelers for oh, five minutes. I get up around six the next morning and make as much noise as possible celebrating the new year. It's tradition. This year Curt talked me into getting a nice dinner with the condition that I didn't have to stay up until midnight.

Now, there isn't much to choose from in Meknes, Morocco on New Year's Eve, so we settled for La Coupole, which is an upscale place with white tablecloths, flowers and menu with dishes from local favorites to pizza. There was only one seating for dinner and it included entertainment. It took us a while to realize that the entertainment was three guys, two drums, and a synthesizer. For the first 45 minutes I thought the guy was practicing or showing his girlfriend all the cool licks he had picked up from some hip guy he ran into at the tea cafe in Fez. He would start playing and play the same thing over and over again and then just stop sometimes with a small flourish. Sometimes he would play for 10 minutes and other times it would be 30 seconds. I will say that the music was rather pleasant once I got used to the idea that it WAS the entertainment for the evening. The drummer played when he felt like it (much like in the West). Never did figure out what the third guy did. Roadie? Maybe.

We were seated by the door. I got the view of the door and Curt got the view of the room. Seated behind us was a family of what must have been a rather upscale “modern” family. The parents were not much older than Curt and I and the daughter was grown, but not necessarily out of the house yet. The mother was dressed in a very smart suit and looked like a business woman on any western street. The daughter looked like she was going to spend the remainder of the evening dancing in a disco with her friends after she dumped the parents. I picked all this up by glancing over my shoulder on occasion when there was no action at the door.

Dinner was served along with a decent bottle of wine and all was pretty good, when I noticed that Curt's attention was fixed just over my right shoulder. Wondering what was going on, he just smiled sheepishly. I also noticed the mother who had her back to mine was beginning to liven up. Pretty soon Curt was trying to communicate what was going on. Apparently the young girl who was facing Curt on the opposite side of their table was making eyes at him. Well, she was more than making eyes at Curt. She was full on, full fledged flirting with him right in front of her parents and this was by a Moroccan girl in Morocco. At one point I turned around to see what Curt was talking about and girl winked at me, a big wink. We, especially Curt, found this to be very profound. Not knowing what to do, Curt opted to let it pass and eventually the family went on their way, but not without a wink from daughter and mother.

At this point it was 10:30 and I was ready for bed. We negotiated and I agreed to stay until the Spanish new year, 11:00 local time, if Curt bought be a gin and tonic. I got my drink and at 11:05 I was calling for the bill.

Next morning we embarked on a completely different experience. We took a “grand” taxi from Meknes out to the roman ruins of the ancient city of Volubilis. In any society where the accepted means of transportation don't exist, they are created. Since there is little interest or money for an affordable mass transit system free enterprise steps in. This is where grand taxis come in. What looks like early 80's diesel Mercedes Benzs are brought to Morocco from all over Europe after their natural life, painted grey and are driven for another 20 years or until they fall apart. They serve a vital purpose, affordable transportation for the local population to the out of the way places and employment for men who have a difficult time finding enough work to support their families. You see grand taxis all over the country side and often stopped along the road in the middle of nowhere picking up people headed into the city to shop or sell their wares. They belch smoke and are in terrible condition with questionable tires, shocks, and safety equipment, but it's what they have and for the local population it's plenty.

Our first grand taxi ride was to Volubilis, approximately 35 km from Meknes. We walked to the grand taxi stand which is a huge parking lot with approximately 100 taxis waiting for a fare. It takes a couple tries and some negotiation, but we get a taxi for the one way trip out to Volubilis. It was recommended that we rent the car and driver for the day, but it sounds like a waste of $20, so we pass. Although we didn't have any trouble getting back, it would have been a sound investment and it would have given someone a good payday.

Our first driver would have been a poor investment however. This guy I am pretty sure was lucky to be able to drive. He did not appear to be very intelligent and used very little good judgment when driving on the country roads. We learned this the first time he tried to pass a car on a blind curve going uphill in a car that was very close to death. The next time he did it, we were both looking to Allah as much or more than the driver. I am pretty sure that it never occurred to him that there was a problem with driving so carelessly. Miraculously we arrived safe and sound and were glad to see our driver leave to terrorize others while we safely toured the Roman ruins.

Volubilis was one of the furthest outposts of the Roman Empire during the 2nd and 3rd centuries AD, although it is believed to be founded as early as the 3rd century BC by the Carthaginians. Because Rome asserted it's considerable influence on the area to produce only the things that the empire needed, the forests were cut down and the resulting fields were planted with wheat. After uprisings by the locals, Romans left Volubilis in 280 AD. Oddly enough Volubilis remained inhabited until the 18th century when Moulay Ismail plundered the city to build his palaces in Meknes.

Mosaics found at Volubilis:






What was left that could be removed is now in museums in Rabat. However there are still many fine mosaics and examples of fine columns at the site. Nearly every block has a small collection of olive presses strewn about the floors. The Triumphal Arch was built in 217 AD, was reconstructed badly in the 1930's and rebuilt correctly in the 1960's. UNESCO declared Volubilis a World Heritage Site in December of 1997. Hopefully this will serve to improve the site going forward.

From my travels I would rate Volubilis second of the greatest Roman ruins outside of Rome, next to Pompeii. It is all here, the aqueduct, the grip system of streets, the shopping districts, government offices in the center of town. It is a marvelous place to discover why our cities are organized the way they are today and how similar it is to the ancient societies.

Even more pictures....





















After Volubilis we walked the few kilometers across the countryside to Moulay Idriss, named after Morocco's most revered saint, a great-grandson of the Prophet Mohammed. Idriss fled Mecca with his persecutors at his heels. He fled to Morocco, converted the locals to Islam, and declared himself leader. It is small town nestled in the hills with wonderful Mosques (which we couldn't see due to our non-believer status).

Our main interest in Moulay Idriss was to find a grand taxi back to Meknes. We could've taken the over stuffed bus, but the taxi seemed like a better bet. The cost was 8 dirhams or 80 cents. For a 20 mile trip, that's pretty good. However, we soon learned that the alternative to the overstuffed bus is the overstuffed taxi. We had to wait for five more passengers to show up. So with the driver, there were eight of us in the car. Curt and I, two young girls, a couple old women, and local man, and the driver. Surprisingly, they allowed the young girls to sit in the back seat with us. It was a bit cramped, but no big deal. There were no passes on blind curves and nothing but pleasant smiles from the locals.

The next morning we set out for our next adventure, car rental and a drive through the country side. You can find that adventure in the next installment.

Some more random photos:














See other descriptions of my travels here



© Copyright 2003 Andrew R. Dennis

Home