Morocco, Day 2, Part II: The Bat-Signal in Ancient Rome and Other Strange Sightings

Volubilis! Once a major city of the ancient world, then it just sort of dropped off the map. Founded by the Berbers, taken by the Carthaginians, conquered by the Romans, reclaimed by the locals, settled by Christians, resettled by Muslims, then abandoned, scavenged for parts, and left for dead. For 1,700 years Volubilis was the spot. Then, about 700 years ago, everyone just packed up their shit and left. Kind of like Detroit.

The mosaics here are absolutely incredible. The only other place I’ve seen the like is Pompeii. And like Pompeii, there are countless others here just waiting for UNESCO-funded archaeologists to discover them. Fans of Greek mythology will recognize the feats of Hercules, and fans of American mythology will recognize an early Roman version of the Bat-Signal.

Abdul drove us here from Casablanca, with a stop through Moulay Idriss where I had my second serving of vegetable tagine. This is a lovely cumin-spiced dish of root vegetables on a cloud of couscous, baked in the ceramic equivalent of a cast-iron Dutch oven. It’s conical, it’s colorful, it’s called a tagine, and the veggie version is by far the most common vegetarian menu item in Morocco. In the next two weeks I will have vegetable tagine somewhere between ten and twenty times.

But hey, we already know I can eat the same thing almost indefinitely. Nate, not so much. I think you could put $100,000 cash in a tagine, tell him it’s free for the taking, and he would not lift the lid to check.

Not $100,000 cash.

I think Sam and Morgan had vegetable tagine about as often as I did. Our lone meat-eaters, Nats and Misty, enjoyed more variety, though I must say I saw a lot of chicken and lamb skewers. But Morocco does deserve a tip of the cap as one of the easiest countries to be vegetarian. There was always something for me to eat. Often the same thing, but I’m not going hungry.

And there are some fabulous drinks to go with this. My favorite? Avocado juice. The second I saw it on the menu, I knew I was going to order it. But it got even better. The waiter asked, “With milk or orange juice?” Me: “Orange juice.” Because obviously we need to make this thing weirder. Waiter: “Sugar or no sugar?” Me: “Sugar.” Because I’ve put extra sugar on a lot of things in my life, but never an avocado.

I’m telling you, this thing is delicious. And if ever a drink deserved a crazy straw, this is the one.

After Volubilis, Moulay Idriss, and a quick stop in Meknes, we drive on to Fez. Which is also spelled Fes, or even Fais. Abdul is also spelled Abdel, and in fact the spelling conventions in general here are just a great big mess. That’s what you get when France colonizes you. Those people have too damn many vowels. There are so many words that begin with a oua instead of a w, and I have to imagine this has a depressive effect on the economy. Just think how much higher their ink budget has to be. Just think of how much faster their athletes would be, or how much longer the street signs would last, if they didn’t have to bear the weight of all those extra letters.

In Fez, or Fes, we’re staying in a riyad, or riad, which is a traditional multi-story house build around a courtyard, or courrtyarrde. Our riad is about 300 years old! We’re in the medina, the old part of the city, where the streets are narrow and the walls are high. That’s a good idea in a desert country near the equator! On most streets you’ve got shade most of the time. More about Fez tomorrow!