The extent of the Roman Empire never ceases to amaze me. Here, in Morocco, they established one of their most remote outposts. This is the land of Carthage. They only were able to hold the land for 200 years before the local Berber tribes drove them out. Yet, they still were able to leave behind this ruined city and all of its olive presses for us.
Getting to Volubilis is a small adventure. It's more of an adventure because, unlike many places, there isn't a lot of information on how to get here. There is basic info: Take a bus to this pilgrimage town (where one of the prophet Mohammad's great-grandson's is buried and his body never decomposed, supposedly) and then get a shared cab. Nobody tells you where to catch the bus, or what number, or the fact that once you get on said bus,that unless you are one of the first to race for one of the 12 seats in the back, you are going to have to stand, squished among humanity, in the sun, for a one hour journey. Well, squished really was for poor Pallavi. For some reason, nobody wanted to squish up against me. Why are they afraid of touching the white foreigner? I don't bite; however, I do push back!
The ruins were really quite cool. They are set up in the mountains, and have been restored just enough that you can get a small feel for how the place would have been 2000 years ago.
We spent the day exploring before we were able to get seats on the bus (we got on right before it's last stop before turning around in the direction we wanted to go), and head back to town, gather our stuff, and get a cab to the train station, and head to Fes.
Also, side note, getting a cab to the train station is not as easy as it looks. You have to get a driver heading in your direction, claim him while his departing passenger is exiting the vehicle, and negotiate a price before you lose the cab. I had to lightly shove a woman out of my way once I finally almost got a driver! I'm working too hard for you to steal my cab lady! I got places to go, and it's almost starting to rain, and I don't have patience. #BadPushyAmerican.
Getting to Volubilis is a small adventure. It's more of an adventure because, unlike many places, there isn't a lot of information on how to get here. There is basic info: Take a bus to this pilgrimage town (where one of the prophet Mohammad's great-grandson's is buried and his body never decomposed, supposedly) and then get a shared cab. Nobody tells you where to catch the bus, or what number, or the fact that once you get on said bus,that unless you are one of the first to race for one of the 12 seats in the back, you are going to have to stand, squished among humanity, in the sun, for a one hour journey. Well, squished really was for poor Pallavi. For some reason, nobody wanted to squish up against me. Why are they afraid of touching the white foreigner? I don't bite; however, I do push back!
The ruins were really quite cool. They are set up in the mountains, and have been restored just enough that you can get a small feel for how the place would have been 2000 years ago.
We spent the day exploring before we were able to get seats on the bus (we got on right before it's last stop before turning around in the direction we wanted to go), and head back to town, gather our stuff, and get a cab to the train station, and head to Fes.
Also, side note, getting a cab to the train station is not as easy as it looks. You have to get a driver heading in your direction, claim him while his departing passenger is exiting the vehicle, and negotiate a price before you lose the cab. I had to lightly shove a woman out of my way once I finally almost got a driver! I'm working too hard for you to steal my cab lady! I got places to go, and it's almost starting to rain, and I don't have patience. #BadPushyAmerican.
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