The city of Meknes, the brief capitol of the region for half a century back in 1672, is a smaller more relaxed version of Fez. The hustle and bustle are gone, replaced with a decidedly quiet medina and the new town merging with the old town rather than being two distinctive separate areas.
After leaving the dirt parking lot that was the grand taxi rank, I headed to the main plaza and into the medina. The medina being so small, it was easy to know where to go to find the riad, however this didn’t stop a tout from running over and “leading” me to the riad. Yet it became increasing clear there wasn’t something right with this tout; he barely spoke properly, just the same couple of words and grunting like noises. It was clear that he was retarded in someway and I couldn’t help but felt sorry for the guy.
This is the first, and no doubt the last, time I tipped a tout. His face lit up, grabbing my arm he began kissing it, and after trying to pull away a couple of times, he stopped and shook my hand. I don’t think he even knew how to say thank you, just a joyous expression and some noises that I assume were thank yous. I rang the riad doorbell and once the hosts had answered the door he headed off down the lane way.
My plan for this afternoon would be simple; visit the handful of museums and some of the other sites like the Mausoleum of Moulay Ismail. Then use the next day to visit the Roman ruins of Volubilis. Unfortunately the fates had decided to crush this days plans under their heels.
I would discover the museums here are also closed on Tuesdays, the day I happened to arrive. And to top it off, restoration projects were under way, closing off the Mausoleum and the nearby palace gardens. The prison (which was never actually a prison) was still open, but I’d been having bad luck with the ATMs and my wallet was full of large notes and nothing small. Showing a 200dh note to the ticket office to purchase a 10dh entry, the clerk shook his head, so off I went in search for lunch to break some of these large denominations.
There is a terrace restaurant looking over the plaza, which I figured was a good place for lunch. After a coffee and juice, I finally got the waiters attention for a menu to check out the food options. The prices were double that of Fez, and I doubted the food was twice as good. It didn’t really matter as the waiter never came back to see if I wanted to order something. To say the service was bad wouldn’t make a lot of sense, as that would infer there is some kind of service to begin with.
The two guys apparently meant to be waiters were missing most of time, and I watched as people would go to the kitchen to find out what was going on. One Spanish woman even stormed towards one of the waiter, roaring out Where’s out bread!? It would have been a good 10 minutes before I saw him go to their table with a basket of bread.
From the view of the terrace I could see the tour buses coming and going, the tour leaders with their flags drawing the bus people likes moths to flame. The more popular way to visit Meknes is to not stay here, instead have a day trip from Fez that will see you around the highlights of Meknes, along with visits to Volubilis and the township of Moulay Idriss.
This, however, meant the local restaurants were very good at overcharging. With the menu taken away after you order, you need to remember just what things cost. When I decided to not eat at the terrace restaurant and asked for the bill, which should have been 30dh (already overcharged too), the waiter mulled this over and said 50dh. The restaurant I went to afterwards tried the same attempt, what was a 55dh meal, he pretended to add up the bill in his phone, then showed me 80dh. They look pretty indignant when you call them out, like it’s your fault they’re trying to scam extra money from you.
The last lunch I had in a restaurant I made sure the menu stayed on the table so that I could add it up for them, in front of their faces before they pulled a figure from their money grabbing butts. But it wasn’t to be, the owner of the restaurant, a small little random place in the medina, had vanished. After walking around the restaurant unsure what to do, the shop keep from the leather shop opposite the lane way came over and indicated I could pay him,. Now I have no idea if he was real or not, but I paid him, got the correct change, and got out of there.
Regardless of the attempts to overcharge, my first night and the next day was perfect. The riad owners are a the nicest couple in the world, Amal has the most incredibly addictive giggling laugh and offered to make me her famous tangine. She cooks the tangine properly, 3 hours slow cooked beef that practically falls apart just by giving it a side glance. David also had a welcome surprise too, ice cold Carlsberg beer. The night was just all round pleasant, with 1940’s French music playing in the background while sitting under the nights sky on their terrace.
The second day was the trip out to the Roman ruins of Volubilis. After making my way to the grand taxi stand, I watched as a Merc being held together with ropes (I’m not even kidding) announced it was going to the town of Moulay Idriss, the launching point for the ruins. After a woman attempted to open the back door unsuccessfully, and the driver essentially punched the door open from the inside, I figured it would be wise to skip that one and wait for the next. So 20 minutes later I squeezed into the next taxi and half an hour later arrived in Moulay Idriss.
After buying a bottle of water, the taxi drivers came over and offered 200dh for a private ride to the ruins, they’d wait 1.5 hours, and then take me back direct to Meknes. I felt like this was a pretty alright deal, and soon enough we arrived, and exiting the taxi I entered the Volubilis ruins.
The ruins date back to the 3rd century BCE when Carthaginian traders settled here, but were annexed around 40CE by the Roman Empire and remained a Roman town for over 200 years. IT was eventually abandoned by the Romans to the Berber’s and various other ethnic groups until the 18th century.
It’s so nice to walk though the ruins, your imagination running wild on what it would have been like to walk the streets back in it’s heyday. Several of the Roman structures still stand (as Roman buildings have a tendency to do), and what’s amazing is how many murals still survived. Some many of the baths and pools still have beautiful murals of gods, nymphs, acts of hunting, and even the labours of Hercules, generally intact (I’m not sure how much of this site has been reconstructed, however).
With the lack of shade and the 35 degree sun beating down from the cloudless sky above, my time was up and with dusty dry gravel crunching under my footsteps, I slowly walked back to the taxi, collapsing in the back seat and drinking about half a litre of water in one swig.
Arriving back at the riad, I cranked the fan up and lay in front it for the rest of the afternoon. Feeling cooled down, my attention turn to the next stop of Marrakech. One of the reasons my favourite online booking site is Agoda is that they occasionally come out with some crazy good deals, and this would be one such occasion. A hotel just near the main plaza was discounted from $130AUD down to $32.
Perfect, booking the room and checking the train times, I prepared for tomorrows 7 hour journey over one last ice cold beer.