The road from Chefchaouen to Moulay Idriss Zerhoun passed through a mountainous region, with small, entirely forested mountains. From time to time, the snaky road crossed a path with ample views. A herd of weak sheep grazed on a hill in the shade of some trees.
In Ouezzane, I had to cross the city three times until I found out the right exit toward Meknes. On the outskirts of the city, a Moroccan waved at me the classical sign for selling hashish, cannabis, or marijuana. I couldn’t find any decent place to eat en route. I felt embarrassed to eat at a restaurant where Moroccan men enjoyed their tea, so I arrived in Moulay Idriss very hungry.
In Moulay Idriss, I couldn’t find the accommodation on GPS and I got lost somewhere on the outskirts of the town. I parked at the entrance to the medina, and asked at a shop the name of the nearby gate. Then, I called the guesthouse, spoke a combination of French and English, and told them I sat in front of Bab Zar – one of the entrance gates to the medina. The lady on the phone said ‘Ok, ok, wait, wait!’
While I was waiting in front of Bab Zar, a Moroccan woman wearing a black gallabia and a black hijab on her head approached me. She beckoned me to join her, and repeatedly said ‘Kasbah Senhaji, Kasbah Senhaji.’ She immediately recognized me as I was the only tourist. I would have never known whom I had to meet as all women looked the same for me. She encouraged me to drive through the crowded souq, full of donkeys and people – something I would never have dared to do by myself. Near Kasbah Senhaji, my host showed me a big parking lot, where I could safely park in exchange for little money – if the owner had something to do in the area, he parked his donkey there, too.
At the guesthouse, the landlady struggled to carry my luggage upstairs. She put me up in a nice room, with beautifully decorated curtains, and a wonderful tadelakt on the walls (my favorite finishing). The landlady’s boy seemed a bit handicapped. He always seemed to speak something in Arabic, but nobody listened to him. I ordered skewers and salad in the guesthouse’s menu, even though they cost almost double than in a normal eatery. I enjoyed my late lunch on the terrace in front of my room. There, I met a gentleman from Rabat, Allal Driss, who stayed at the guesthouse until he completed the restorations at his holiday house in Moulay Idriss.
Moulay Idriss, the first day
Short Description. In the first part of the day, I went to the archaeological site of Volubilis. After a quick lunch, I returned to Moulay Idriss, where Zakariae took me to the panoramic lookout.
The following day, I went to Volubilis, the best-preserved archaeological site in Morocco, listed as a UNESCO heritage site. Volubilis stood a few kilometers from Moulay Idriss. At the entrance gate, I argued a little with the guardians who didn’t want to accept my ICOMOS card. Eventually, they let me in because they didn’t have rest to give me from 200 dirhams. They told me to change money inside the archaeological site – among the ruins?! A dozen of guides happily approached after I entered the site.
Volubilis was the largest Roman city in Morocco, surrounded by walls and gates, with a decumanus maximus (the main street in Roman cities) well-defined and visible. The Roman town was actually built on the ruins of an older Mauritanian town that then prospered and developed during the Roman Empire. At the end of the Roman period, houses were built on the outskirts of the city. One could see Roman mosaics preserved in the patricians’ houses, in the baths, and in the basilica. The site seemed quite large, and it took a few hours to explore it, especially if you wanted to walk up to the Tangier Gate, which was quite far.
The site of Volubilis included the house of Orpheus, restored olive-oil presses, the Galen Thermal Baths, the Capitol dedicated to the Triad of Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva, a basilica, a forum, a bakery, the House of the Acrobat, a triumphal arch, the House of Ephebe, the House with Columns, the House of the Rider – with mosaics representing the Works of Hercules, the typical decumanus maximus, the House of Dionysus and of the Four Seasons, the House of the Bathing Nymphs, the House of the Great Game, the Gordian Palace, the Gate to Tangier, the House of Venus, the Roman aqueduct, and a public fountain.
Before leaving Volubilis, I went to the terrace sitting next to the archaeological site and had a very nourishing lentil tajine. In Moulay Idriss, I parked the car next to the donkeys in the parking lot of the kasbah, and went for a walk through the old medina.
The most important place of pilgrimage in Morocco, Moulay Idriss was a closed-city to non-Muslims for a long time. Recently, however, restrictions had been lifted, and locals had begun to open small guesthouses for foreign tourists. In August, the largest moussem (pilgrimage) in Morocco took place there, at the tomb of the great founder of the city – the Great Idriss (a nephew of the Prophet Mohamed, the founder of the country’s first dynasty – the Idrissids dynasty and the most revered saint in Morocco). It was said that five pilgrimages to Moulay Idriss during moussem were equivalent with a haj to Mecca. Those who couldn’t afford to go to Mecca in a lifetime could use this as a substitute.
The old medina practically crammed on a hill, with narrow streets with steps, where even motorcycles couldn’t have access and so, it was very quiet. Moulay Idriss seemed a pretty small town. It rather consisted of a main lane along which all stalls and restaurants lined up – the street leading to the central square of Mohamed VI, where the Great Mosque and the tomb of Idriss stood.
At the central mosque, I could only look inside through a metal fence. As a non-Muslim, I was not allowed to enter. In front of the mosque, a young Moroccan – Zakariae, approached me. He wanted to show me the town. I told him I knew he would ask me for money at the end of the tour, and that I didn’t like this method in Morocco. At least, we could agree on the money from the beginning. No, he said he would take me for free because I was beautiful.
Indeed, he showed me to all the lookout places with great views over the town. I would have never found them in the labyrinth of alleys. Somewhere at a small terrace, he picked up several purple flowers specific to Volubilis and he offered them to me in a very romantic style. Zakariae studied French literature, spoke English well, and behaved very politely. He was not religious and didn’t go to the mosque every day. He had already understood that religion would restrict him too much. Zakariae wanted to do something better with his life.
After I parted with Zakariae, I went by myself to explore the other part of the medina. Crowded houses, narrow sloping streets, and, from time to time, a store packed with everything – especially gas bottles. The medina in Moulay Idriss was not as picturesque as other medinas in Morocco. Most of the houses had shriveled plaster. There was garbage in the streets. Skinny cats begged for food at every street corner. Children sitting at the windows shouted to me ‘Hello!’ and ‘Welcome!’. Girls coming out from school dressed in white robes. In the main square, a donkey tied to a pole seemed sad because his owner left it alone. I sat with it for a while and cuddled its nose. The donkey scratched with a hoof, then yawned, and came to smell me.
I returned to the main street and sat at a terrace where I had a vegetable tajine while I was admiring Moroccans passing by with they mules full of goods – a striking contrast with a truck full of merchandise passing by as well. On the other side of the street, elderly men socialized over tea at a pavement terrace.
From the platform of the kasbah, I noticed the bustle of the main street and souq. A boy ate something, wiped his mouth with a paper, then naturally dropped it to the ground. Even though there were rubbish bins on the streets, people don’t used them too much in Morocco. One could see a lot of rubbish on the street.
Moulay Idriss, the second day
Short Description. Allal showed me one of the oldest Roman aqueducts in Morocco, near Moulay Idriss. In the afternoon, I arrived in Meknes, where I had a hard time to find the riad.
The last morning in Moulay Idriss, Allal showed me some pictures with old graffiti in the city, and one of them represented an aqueduct. I remembered seeing it drawn somewhere on the walls of the medina. Allal confirmed to me that the aqueduct was real, and we could go and see it. It stood in the Oued el-Mayit Valley (the River of Death in Arabic), somewhere at the exit of the city.
Allal was 70 years old, and all his life, he worked as a teacher and translator of Arabic-French for UNESCO in Rabat. He had retired and wanted to move back to his hometown, Moulay Idriss, where he was restoring his old house. He said the city was quiet compared to Rabat. People met in the street and talked without rushing. Indeed, I also noticed how long it took him to talk with one-two people before we went to the aqueduct together.
We exited the town and drove along a forestry road looking for the aqueduct. Allal hadn’t been there since childhood. He asked a local who told us we had to go back a little, and somewhere on the left, we would see the aqueduct at the edge of a valley. We parked the car and looked for the aqueduct. Somewhere deep inside the valley, we saw an enormous Roman aqueduct, of rare slenderness.
Even though impeccably preserved, no other tourists knew about the aqueduct. The aqueduct was gigantic, with two levels of arches that spanned over the valley. The surroundings seemed pretty deserted, with a lot of garbage around, but Allal appreciated it as the perfect place to make a barbecue.
I took a picture of Allal in front of the aqueduct and then I sent it to him by email. He said he enjoyed it a lot. He even told me I could come to stay in Rabat at his place anytime and I supposed, I was welcome in his future house in Moulay Idriss as well. When we returned to Moulay Idriss, I dropped him in the city center and then, I continued toward Meknes.
The road to Meknes was quite short, less than 100 kilometers. It crossed both arid and forested hills, with neatly organized green crops. In Meknes, the GPS led me to a completely different part of the medina than where I booked my accommodation. I parked and walked a bit to find Riad La Boheme, but I eventually ended up in some dead-end streets. It was too much for me. I declared myself lost, called the number on the booking, and the landlord of the riad told me someone would come to pick me up.
I waited almost an hour for David to come to Avenue du Mellah. In order to find me, he asked me to put on the phone a stranger who passed by and who explained to him where I was. After we met, we drove around the medina, and David showed me where to park in the central square (20 dirhams per day) for two days. Then, we walked to his riad, located in the heart of the medina, at the edge of some narrow, winding streets.
David was a French guy who married to a Moroccan woman, Amal. They had a rather large riad in Meknes and they took care of it day and night. They served me Moroccan tea, and David drew a sketch of the old city with places to visit. He didn’t even want to hear that Lonely Planet recommended other places as well.
My room at Riad La Boheme was small, but it had a partial floor I really liked and where I chose to sleep. The riad was quite large. It had a beautifully decorated rooftop terrace with wrought iron sofas and ornamental vegetation, while the sides of the terrace were protected by textiles that created a pleasant shade. The ground floor had an inner courtyard open at the top and one could even see the sky. The ground floor had many sofas and it also included a small corner with an authentic Berber tent.
If you want to read more about my trip through Morocco, here are all my Travel Diaries from Morocco (x21).
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