Caption: Some of the remarkable mosaics in Volubilis
We set off under an overcast sky and fog but were suddenly bathed in sunshine.
A long and windy drive through olive trees and sisal plants brought us to the Roman ruins of Volubilis, a partly excavated Berber-Roman city founded in the 3d century BC that is famous for its mosaics. They are the best I’ve ever seen in such volume. Guards blew whistles at us when we crawled or climbed onto the walls to get better photographs of the superb mosaics in the house area and bathing quarters. We didn't have long enough to look in detail at the buildings and columns but I do have lots of photos of those structures already!
Drove into Fez through hilly country and trees, passing villages that appeared to have been propped up against the slopes rather than solidly built.
Beautiful trees are the best thing about our Fez campsite. The deep swimming pool is empty and the washing, toilet and shower facilities are disgusting, all sharing a smell that made it hard to distinguish one from the other. Risked a cold shower before lunch and then seven of us headed into the city.
Two young men accompanied/hassled us most of the way from the campsite into town, offering to guide us. We swapped fun banter, with one telling me he “Probably speak more better English than you,” to which Ann replied: “We wouldn’t say more better”.
Wandered through the new and then middle town to the Mellah (Jewish shopping district), passing covered stalls selling clothes, spices and all sorts of odds and ends; Vicki bought a water pistol in the shape of a fish! Mouth-watering aromas came from small food stalls selling deep-fried fish, meats, kebabs, beans, doughnuts. People pushed and shoved past each other, making room for donkeys, carts and even a car. We tunnelled through clothing halls branching off to the side.
Bob and I chatted about what we knew and thought about Muslim women covering themselves as we walked back to a cafe where we sat at a corner table and ordered mint tea - it was so sweet I felt sick after half a glass. Reached the campsite in the dark, just in time for a delicious dinner of meatloaf and veggies with peanuts. Ton went on about hating peanuts and spent the entire dinner spitting peanuts into the fire beside me.
A Danish PR representative called Michael, who is also staying at the campsite, related a horror story about two Moroccans who befriended him and his travelling companion and took them home for tea and hash. Two then became four, and six, whereupon they drew knives and robbed the Danes of US$700. The kind Moroccans then put them in a cab and returned them to the campsite. Nikki mumbled: “Never trust an Arab!”
Michael stayed around our fire chatting till late.
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