You can see traces of its former glory in the arched walls, columns, and mosaic floors that bake under the hot North African sun. This UNESCO World Heritage Site is Morocco’s most important archeological site and an open-air museum, well worth a visit.

With an excellent guide, we learned about the history of the place and the ruins of  public baths, the Triumphal Arch, the oil presses, aqueducts, basilica, numerous houses, even a brothel. However, with a map and a guide book, you can tour the place on your own and get a feel for what Volubilis once was. Walking the ancient streets, with weeds and lichen growing among the stones, you’ll sense what a far-off outpost this was from Imperial Rome, as well as a finely organized, well-to-do city.

Some of the material excavated, including sculpted bronze heads, is now in the National Archeological Museum in the capital city of Rabat, but the mosaics are still in place, one of the chief attractions. Made from different types of colored tile, glass and stone, they are beautifully designed, depicting animals and mythological scenes. They lie under the open sky, as yet unsheltered, and are remarkably well-preserved.

Volubilis is a half-hour drive from Meknes and about 90 minutes from Fez. Taxis and guided day trips can be arranged through most hotels. There’s a visitor center at the site and a small admission fee is charged to enter the ruins area. It’s very hot in summer; spring and fall are best for visiting. Any time you go, take sunscreen, water and a hat.

The nearest town to Volubilis is quiet, serene Moulay-Idriss, about 3 miles away, sprawled across a hilltop. Scores of Muslim pilgrims come here to pay homage at the tomb of Moulay Idriss, who founded the first Islamic state in Morocco, in the 8th century.  He was a great-grandson of the Prophet Mohammed, and his tomb is revered. Non-Muslims are not allowed to enter the shrine.

Written by Marilyn McFarlane for EuropeUpClose.com

Some of the Berbers work as guides, taking visitors on camel rides into the desert for a unique experience. As one of those visitors, I was interested in learning what it was like to live the nomadic life, even for only a single overnight stay (some are considerably longer). These brief treks are strictly for tourists, but I didn’t care. I wanted that glimpse into another way of life.

In Merzouga our little group stayed at the Auberge Sahara, a clay-and-straw inn with pleasant rooms, hot showers, and a very welcome swimming pool. Behind the palm trees and over the ridge, camels waited on their knees. We climbed aboard, with help, and the camels tipped forward and back, getting to their feet, until we sat high and wide on padded cushions, nervously clutching the t-bars. When everyone was lined up and ready, white-turbaned guides led us up the next ridge and into the Sahara.

It was magical. Ridges and ravines of golden sand, carved by the wind, stretched to the horizon. The air was dry and still. There were a few sparse shrubs and beetle tracks, but no other signs of life, though we were told there are snakes, lizards and even desert foxes. The desert changed color as we traveled, the camels’ splayed hooves plodding the track. From gold to pale brown to pink, it had an austere, shadowy beauty. Cameras were in constant use, tucked into pockets only when we went steeply downhill and had to cling to the t-bars.

At twilight we reached camp at the foot of a high ridge and tumbled from our camels’ backs, thighs aching. We gathered pads and blankets from a large tent and spread them on the sand while, in a tiny kitchen, a delicious dinner was cooking. Sitting cross-legged at a low table on the sand, we ate by candlelight–fresh tomatoes, corn, onions, and a rich stew with peas and beef. I was just as happy that it wasn’t the typical Berber-on-the-move dish of camel fat mixed with turnips and carrots.

A full, orange moon rose above the desert, and we lay on our makeshift beds to watch the stars appear. They’d be dazzling on a clear night, after the moon set. But it was not to be; clouds gathered, rain fell (a rarity in the desert), and the wind blew sand into our faces as we scurried into tents for the night. Early in the morning, under clear skies , we hoisted onto the camels, again with help from our kindly guides, and turned back toward Merzouga.

The village has several inns catering to people who want to be near or in the desert. There are also a few shops, and the one I recommend is Depot Nomade, where we saw hundreds of gorgeous, colorful carpets on display and learned how they’re made. Women do the fine handwork, incorporating tradition, lore, legend and personal touches into the designs. At Depot Nomade, I browsed through several rooms of attractive handicrafts and bought lovely silk scarves at bargain prices.

Written by Marilyn McFarlane for EuropeUpClose.com

Just two hours from Algeciras, a ferry ride across the Strait of Gibraltar is all that separates a Spanish vacation from being spiced up with a little Moroccan flavour.

Though just two continents apart, setting foot in Morocco might make you feel like you’ve ventured into a completely alternate world.

With a few days to kill before returning north to Barcelona, we hit an adventurous streak and planned to make a fast track for Marrakech. It is the third largest Moroccan city after Casablanca and Rabat, and we were determined to take in the sights and indulge in some spur of the moment Moroccan action.

A night train from Tangier took us direct to our chosen destination. Arriving early the next morning, we found our way in the muggy, scorching heat to the nearby Median locale, an intricate labyrinth of thin ochre alleyways, dusty and lined with cosy stores. It is an assault on the senses, an odorous fusion of spice, incense, donkey droppings and petrol fume.

After a brief trundle through town we checked into Hotel Chella, a comfortable riad style hostel with a leafy centre courtyard and tiled Moroccan ambience just off the main square. The Heart of the Medina Backpackers hostel is a recent addition to the locale and would also be a top choice.

From the Medina the sights of Marrakech are walkable and in abundance, and with limited time in this fresh, exotic place, we set off on foot to make the most of it.

The souqs were an early highlight – a massive cluster of stores and shops, selling everything from rich coloured spices, to trinkets, jewelry, kaftans and shoes. Leather is also a big trade in Marrakech, so if you’re in the market for a smooth leather jacket or belt, this is the place. Make sure you’re armed with swift bargaining skills as ardent bartering is the local custom and the store owners will certainly give you a run for your money.

We would later experience the raw reality of the leather trade, taking in an informal guided tour of the tanneries. Deep concrete vats of pigeon droppings and sludge are used to treat and tan the cowhide, and this is an integral part of the leather production process. This, again, was a brutal assault on the senses – though our guide generously offered a sprig of mint to sniff as we walked through, making the experience somewhat more tolerable.

Dar Si Saïd Museum was a gem, replete with historical Moroccan artifacts, woodcarvings, weapons and ceramics. The Ben Youssef Madrassa also proved an impressive stop off, home to a fine and extensive collection of beautiful artwork and Moroccan architecture.

Night soon fell on the Medina, transforming the daytime hubbub to a veritable carnivale. The Medina had, indeed, metamorphosed like clockwork into a mystical, magical, otherworldly bazaar.

A haze of charred meat smoke fogs and hovers over the Djaama ElFna. Chefs carve meats and lay out endless bounties of seafood at a melange of indistinguishable food stands. Drums boom, reverberating across the Medina, while yelps and cries echo thunderously across the North African hinterland. Snake charmers pipe asps skyward, mystics tell fortunes, and witch doctors, storytellers and buskers captivate the well-fed crowds.

We settled into one of the stalls, sampling olives and succulent lamb tajines. We were intoxicated by the flurry of furious activity, eyes wide and senses honed, spellbound by the disparity of existence between here and anywhere else on earth.

Marrakech, Magnifique!