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On the second day, we left the lovely Chefchaouen and took the N13 towards Meknes, our first destination among the Imperial Cities. On our way was Volubilis and Moulay Idriss where we'd decided to stop and see what all the fuss was about. |
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Here we are on the bank of Oued Ouerrha, where we stopped because it seemed like the cool thing to do, the local people come here to wash their trucks and fill their cans, water the animals, etc. We just stood there, watching life go by, people attending to their business, this was one of THE moments... |
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Le deuxième jour, nous sommes repartis sur la N13 direction Meknes, notre première ville impériale. On avait deux autres étapes prévues en route : Volubilis et Moulay Idriss, histoire de voir pourquoi tout le monde en parle... |
Here's the road we drove on, on the map, it's a "red" one, meaning A-Road... meaning that in any other country, this would be minimum a two-lane and maximum four-lane road. Well, the picture speaks for itself. Ain't it lovely though? oleanders in Morocco grow naturally, mainly at the bottom of valleys, beautiful. |
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You've
probably heard of Volubilis before, but if you haven't, well, basically,
it's the "largest and best-preserved Roman ruins in Morocco." (©
Lonely
Planet).
I would say it is rather impressive for people who
are into this type of thing. There was a time I was fascinated by ruins
and ancient civilizations' remains*, but I must say that these days, I'm
more interested in the living, plus, if you think about it, you don't
learn much about Moroccan civilisation* by visiting this archeological
site (well, you do meet a few faux-guides who are after your money, but
that's a tiny detail). (*for those of you who noticed the successive
'z' and the 's' in civilis/zation, well it's to keep both Americans and
British people happy with my spelling
At this stage, you can guess I didn't especially enjoy the visit of Volubilis, well, to be honest, in the scorching midday sun, we hated every minute of it. It must be said, it is splendid in a way, a showcase of the Roman magnificience, but our quest was elsewhere. |
Si vous n'avez jamais entendu parler de Volubilis, en bref, c'est le plus grand site archéologique Romain du Maroc (même après Arles ou le Pont du Gard visités cet été cela reste assez impressionnant). Pour les passionnés d'Histoire et d'Art, c'est une visite à ne pas manquer, pour les autres, ben, c'est des ruines quoi. Et puis, à Volubilis, on n'apprend pas grand chose sur les Marocains et leur culture, il faut bien l'avouer (bon, à part les faux-guides qui viennent mendier qq dirhams pour vous faire visiter le site, mais ça c'est un détail). Bon, si vous avez déduit de ces quelques lignes que ça n'a pas été notre visite préférée, c'est exact. On a même détesté, visiter sous un soleil de plomb (c'était entre midi et deux heures) a été un calvaire. J'admets que c'est magnifique d'une certaine manière, mais ce n'était pas ce qu'on cherchait. |
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Moulay Idriss is 4.5km away from Volubilis and a famous pilgrimage town, for it houses the mausoleum of Morocco's most revered saint, and founder of the country's first dynasty. We were in Moulay Idriss on a Friday, so we witnessed the continuous procession of people going to pray. We couldn't follow them obviously as mosques and mausoleums are places forbidden to non-muslims, we felt slightly inadequate and out of place, so we drank our Fanta and left rather quickly. After so much hype about the place, and the simple beauty of Chefchaouen, we were a bit disappointed by Moulay Idriss. I think this city deserves a closer look though, it was just not the right time for a first. You can see Moulay Idriss on one of the pictures we took in Volubilis (see the visist of Volubilis page). |
Moulay Idriss (d'après le nom du saint fondateur de la première dynastie du pays), haut lieu de pélerinage au Maroc, abrite un célèbre mausolée où repose l'arrière-arrière petit fils du prophète. Le guide en faisait grand cas, mais honnêtement, après Chefchaouen, on a été un peu déçus... Et puis, on n'était pas prêts pour les innombrables pélerins qui se hâtaient vers le mausolée pour prier, assis à une terrasse de café exclusivement masculine, on s'est sentis très étrangers ce jour-là. On a donc bu notre Fanta et on est repartis. |
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