Rabat

Rabat is where most of the foreign embassies and consulates are, being the capital of Morocco. It has a much more cosmopolitan feel to it than any other Moroccan city in that there is an established “downtown” area complete with high end fashion shops, cafés and restaurants. There are also a LOT of black luxury vehicles with smoked windows and chauffeurs. But by European and North American standards, the city is still a mess! Garbage and construction debris litter most of the streets, and ever present grime is just a little less thick in Rabat than, say, Casablanca or Tangier.

The medina is a pretty wild place. Not so much of a tourist haven, it is where the locals go to buy cheap stuff - everything from cell phones to “savon noir”, plastic shoes, gaudy clothes, leather jackets, bedding, furniture, pirated c.d.s and d.v.d.s, toiletries, household items, fruits and veggies, beans, couscous, meat, fish, olive oil, olives, bread, preserved lemons, snacks, toys, and all manner of junk! And it is absolutely packed with merchandise and people. Vendors without a stall simply spread their wares out on the road for people to negotiate around and through.

Somehow, nothing gets kicked or stepped on! The racket is quite something as well, with all the haggling, occasional spats, happy greetings, and blaring ghetto blasters. But, thankfully, no one hassles you!

Moroccan people are very warm hearted, and it is a common site to see them stopping on their way, to share an affectionate greeting with a friend or acquaintance. Always, it begins and ends with a handshake and then touching ones own heart (male) or lips (female). Physical contact is often maintained whilst chatting, and it is not uncommon to see men and boys, and women and girls holding hands or arm in arm while walking together. Much rarer is to see men and women holding hands, but a little more common with young people. Children are, for the most part, adored by one and all, and adorable is what they are! They look after each other, as much as anyone else does, the “older” ones taking the wee ones by the hand and weaving through thick crowds and across insanely busy streets. Frightening!

It’s hard not to notice the high incidence of blindness in this country. The number of completely blind people is staggering, as is the huge number of maimed and crippled folks. While I have no idea as to the reasons for blindness, it is all too obvious why so many people are seriously physically handicapped. The hazards of living here are too numerous to imagine, what with faulty vehicles, archaic machinery, broken infra-structure and non-existent safety measure. Throw in child labour, largely unregulated traffic, and 1001 distractions and you have the basic recipe for an accident waiting to happen.

There is a place in Rabat known as Chellah, which is high above the river Oued Bou Regreg. Originally a Phoenician settlement, in about 40AD it was taken over by the Romans, who named it Sala Colonia, but was abandoned in 1154, in favour of Salé across the river. In the 14th century Sultan Abou al-Hassan Ali built a necropolis over top of the Roman site, surrounding it with the towers and defensive walls that remain today, and re-named it Chellah (Sala - Salé - Chellah). It is a remarkable place for many reasons, not the least of which is its historical significance, which makes it all the more remarkable that it hasn’t been more scientifically excavated and developed as an important monument. Inside the walls there is a beautiful garden through which you pass on the way to the ruins, which include the remains of a typical Roman city - a triumphal arch, forum, temple of Jupiter, Pool of the Nymph, and water distribution system. There is precious little information on site, and what there is, is in French and Arabic, but even I could get the gist of it! As for the Islamic complex, those remains are more intact, but still sadly neglected and overgrown. They include a minaret (now topped by an enormous stork nest!), the tombs of Abou al-Hassan Ali and his wife, still with beautiful tile work (zellij), and the remains of the medersa (religious college) with student cells and scalloped pools. The colony of storks that have made Chellah their home have a flight path that takes them right overhead, on their way to collect more nest building material and food for the hungry young-uns. They are a sight to behold, with enormous wingspans and bills. I didn’t see any bundled babies, though.

Speaking of young-uns and babies, I read that, as of at least a couple of years ago, 55% of the almost 35 million Moroccans are under the age of 25, and almost 1/3 are under the age of 15. Less than 5% is over 65 and most of them are women, often working widows. Urban unemployment rates for 15 - 34 year olds is a staggering 34%. The good news is, the birth rate has dropped from an average of 7.8 births per woman in 1971, to 2.7 currently, with lower infant mortality rates and longer life expectancy.

In addition to the Chellah, there is an archeological museum which houses a nice collection of Neolithic rock carvings, and artefacts from Roman settlements of Lixus, Volobillus, and Chellah. There are a few very beautiful carvings and some examples of (my favourite) glass objects, as well as jewellery, ceramics and the like. It’s really pretty mind-blowing to think about the ancientness of civilizations!

The Kasbah is mostly restored, and contains a lovely, quiet, and restful garden. The 17th century palace is now a small museum with mostly royal jewellery of gold and precious stones, elaborately decorated clothing, and ornate firearms and daggers. It’s a nice place to wander up through the residential area of the Kasbah, where it appears are some very wealthy residence of whom, I believe, many are ex-pats. It is a clean, sunny, and calm enclave for the lucky few who live there.

I walked a lot in Rabat, and pretty much covered all there is to see there as a tourist and a bit more, I think! It was a pleasant three days of my count-down to Istanbul. From there I took the train to Casablanca.