In the British Isles the rowan (Sorbus aucuparia) has a long and still popular history in folklore as a tree which protects against witchcraft and evil spirits.

The physical characteristics of the tree may have contributed to its protective reputation, including the tiny five pointed star or pentagram on each berry opposite its stalk – the pentagram being an ancient protective symbol.

The colour red was deemed to be the best protection against enchantment, and so the rowan’s vibrant display of berries in autumn may have further contributed to its protective abilities, as suggested in the old rhyme:

“Rowan tree and red thread
make the witches tine their speed”.

(tine meaning ‘to lose’)

The rowan was also denoted as a tree of the Goddess or a Faerie tree by virtue (like the hawthorn and elder) of its white flowers.

Rowan is said to offer protection in several ways. In the Highlands Rowans were often planted beside a house as the tree was supposed to stop evil spirits entering the house. Even now it is considered foolish to remove the a rowan tree growing in your garden. Pieces of the tree were carried by people for personal protection from witchcraft, and sprigs or pieces of rowan were used to protect especially cows and their dairy produce from enchantment.

The berries can be made into or added to a variety of alcoholic drinks, and different Celtic peoples each seem to have had their favourites. In the Highlands, they are made into wine As well as the popular wine still made in the Highlands, the Scots made a strong spirit from the berries, the Welsh brewed an ale, the Irish used them to flavour Mead, and even a cider can be made from them. Today rowan berry jelly is still made in Scotland and is traditionally eaten with game.

From Meknes we took the approximate seven hour train trip to Marrakech; as immortalised in the song, Marrakesh Express. All aboard that train!

Again a rather fancy new station.

Marrakech is known as the pink city due to the colour of the stones.

The pile of ‘rubbish’ is actually leather offcuts.

We wandered through local souks with fruit and vegetables for the Marrakech people.

And tourist souks with mini tagines for the tourists.

Lovely architecture everywhere.

And people going about their business.

The main square in Marrakech, Djemaa El Fna, was bustling during the day.

We sat in the terrace of one of the restaurants and enjoyed a long, leisurely cup of mint tea as we watched the world go by.

We visited the Musee de Marrakech mainly to look at the wonderful building, which is more impressive than the exhibits on display. The 19th century Mnebhi Palace has a lovely inner courtyard, with bubbling fountains and seating nooks, making it a relaxing escape from the chaos of the nearby souqs.

The Medersa Ben Youseff is one of the city’s most impressive buildings and allows entry to non-Muslims. It was built by the Saadian sultan, Moulay Abdellah around 1565, and was rebuilt in the 16th century. At the heart of the medersa (Islamic school) is a light-filled courtyard with arcades down two sides, a rectangular pool in the middle and a prayer hall. Every surface has some decoration.

t’s at night when the main square really comes alive. With open air stalls selling all manner of foods, cooked on smoky fires there in the square; stalls selling freshly-squeezed orange juice; fortune tellers; tattooists; barbers; and all kinds of entertainers including jugglers, acrobats, bands, fire eaters, singers. These people all set up a light on any spare few metres of space, maybe a small mat and a few chairs and offered their services to anyone.

More photos can be found here on my Flcikr pages.

Wwe met up with the other members of the trekking group and our guide and went on to enjoy a wonderful week hiking in the High Atlas, including an ascent of Mt Toubkal.

The next day we had the experience of a grand taxi. There are two types of taxis in Morocco: petit taxis and grand taxis. Both are easily recognizable on the streets: the petit taxis are small and blue, the grand taxis are large and white, silver or blue. The former are like taxis we are accustomed all over the world: they carry a single passenger or party directly to the desired destination, and payment is determined by meter. The grand taxis take a car load of strangers who are going in the one general direction.

The grand taxis gather at very informal taxi ’stations’ in several places around the cities. The taxis seem to park in no particular order; the only way to find a ride to one’s destination is by listening to the shouting of the drivers, or by walking around asking.

The grands taxis take six passengers per trip–two in front, four in back. As you can imagine, it is a bit of a squeeze to fit all these passengers in a standard 5-seat saloon car.

We endured a 35 min ride squashed in one from Meknes to Moulay Idriss.

Moulay Idriss is an important religious site and place of pilgrimage for Muslims in Morocco. The town is named after the Moroccan saint Moulay Idriss, a descendant of Muhammad, who died and was buried in 792 AD in the city that was eventually named after him. During his life in Morocco Idriss founded Morocco’s first Arab dynasty as well as the city of Fes and is accredited with converting the majority of Morocco’s population to Islam.

After shaking off the inevitable attention of the guides and taxi drivers, we headed off uphill through the steep village which is perched on a hillside. We were fascinated to find we were walking right through the middle of a local market with stalls selling everything from sweeping brushes to fruit to meat – including live hens. the butcher had several cages of live hens and a large machete on his counter. We were pleased to be ignored as we meandered here – no hard sell like at the tourist markets.

However a little later we picked up an unofficial guide. Or more truthfully he picked us up! We had wandered towards the entrance to the mosque and he got chatting to us and pointed out the way to the upper village. Then he followed us and the next thing we knew he was leading us up and up. Once we had negotiated a price we had a rather nice tour of the town with him!

Moulay Idriss’ tomb is a revered site and the town is considered to be the holiest town in Morocco. The tomb is considered to be a shrine and is accepted as a substitute pilgrimage for Muslims who cannot travel to Mecca.

Every August an important Moussem, or Muslim festival, is held in Moulay Idriss and Muslims from around the world travel to the town.

The wooden barrier is to prevent non-Muslims (and mules, which wander the streets) from entering.

Idriss Medersa, an ancient Qur’an school was built using materials from taken from the nearby Roman site of Volubilis, The Idriss Medersa is famous for its unusual Minaret, added to the building by a wealthy pilgrim in 1939. The Minaret is circular, an unusual design throughout the Muslim world, and is decorated with white and green geometric shapes that spell out a passage from the Qur’an in Arabic

Our helpful guide led us back to the taxi rank and helped us negotiate a price for the next part of our journey. He may have taken us to his brother or cousin’s taxi and charged us double the rate for all we know, but it was was still cheap to us!

Our next stop was the ancient Roman archaeological site of Volubilis. This is an amazing site – even for non-historians, due to it’s large size and the fact that many of the mosaics are still pretty clear despite being exposed to the elements.

The Romans began building the city of Volubilis somewhere around 40 AD in order to keep control of this north African region which was successively occupied by the Greeks, Berbers, Jews and Carthaginian merchants. In the second and third centuries, the region began to develop more rapidly when the Romans began cultivating grain.

The Victory Arch, facing the main route was built in 217, in honour the Roman emperor Caracalla. It formerly had a bronze chariot atop its ancient stones. It was restored in 1962.

The Romans evacuated most of Morocco at the end of the 3rd century AD but, unlike some other Roman cities, Volubilis was not abandoned.People continued to live here for more than 1,000 years after this until it was abandoned in the 18th century.

Volubilis’ structures were damaged by the 1755 Lisbon earthquake, while in the 18th century part of the marble was taken for constructions in nearby Meknes.

The mosaics at Volubilis are simply amazing.

Prior to undertaking the trek in the high Atlas and ascent of Mt Toubkal, Neil and I spent a few days as tourists exploring the country. We had flown to Gibraltar and after a couple of days exploring The Rock took the ferry to Tangier from Algerciras in Andalucia, Spain. Sailing from Europe to Africa is the way to go – it felt like an adventure, especially as we didn’t have accommodation booked for the whole trip.

We were expecting to be hustled for business by taxi drivers as soon as we came out of the ferry terminal building and we were. We even had one guy offering to take us to the ATM to get some cash before our ride. No thanks! We walked the 100m to the ATM and found a nice taxi driver who chatted away to us as he took us to the railway station.

We passed lots of ongoing construction near the port and the taxi driver told us about the current developments. The new king Mohammed VI (he came to power in 1999) is wanting to make the city a big Mediterranean resort and is putting lots fo money into constructing hotels etc.

The new railway station is one such tourist development.

However all the other stations on the line were pretty basic and the train was rather old.

And there were many make-shift encampments outside the towns

The train journey was about 5 hours and we spent some of that time chatting to a lovely young woman who had a degree in English Language and was just starting her Masters in Translation. She was really keen to practise her English.

Meknes has a very complicated set of city walls. They do not simply form a nice square, or rectangle,but form a maze-like structure. One of the main gates (Bab) in the walls is the ornate Bab el-Mansour.

After passing through this we wandered off the tourist path and through several souks catering for the locals not tourists. We got totally lost in one souk and had no idea which direction we should go to get out. We tried following what looked to be the larger amounts of people, but realised we were going deeper and deeper into this maze. We were rescued by a wee lad who offered to lead us to the main square. He set off and led us deeper into narrower and narrower alleyway — at two places going under the city walls. One of these underground sections was unlit and completely dark for about 50m! We did wonder where he was taking us! We were very relieved when we eventually arrived at the main square and was he seemed happy with the 3 Dirhams we gave him.

We booked into the IYH youth hostel in Meknes (pretty tricky to find as most streets did not have street signs and the few we saw were in Arabic!). The hostel was simple (only cold showers), but clean and quiet. In fact it was so quiet we didn’t see any other visitors the first night – although we heard a couple of people walking about. We had hoped to chat to other hostellers to get ideas of places to visit.

Thankfully we found it before the sun dropped rapidly about 6pm

my sweetheart, Neil on Toubkal

A few days ago I said (on the outdoors bloggers forum):

I’ve been absent from here, and my blog, for most of the summer. That was partly because I was working and living in the beautiful Cairngorms (oh, the hardship!) for 4 days a week with no ‘net access.

However, in the past week I’ve added a few posts to my blog – mainly about my recent trekking holiday in Morocco – and one of two from the past couple of weekends at Glenmore. Since I’ve now finished my seasonal job I’m going to have time to catch up with the blogs of those who I follow. I plan to write a few wee bits and pieces about days out in the Cairngorms from the summer.”

Well, the best laid plans o’ mice and men – and bloggers…

About one hour after writing the above I was sitting in the back of an ambulance accompanying my husband Neil to hospital. He had an accident and has broken his shin bones (both tibia and fibula) and smashed his kneecap. His poor old knee is now held together by 4 screws and he’s sporting a full-leg stookie.

Unfortunately his surgery wound is not healing as well as it should and he is still in hospital one week later. I’ve been running around on hospital visits and trying to make the house a wee bit more ‘hirpling-along-wi-a’-stookie’ proof for when he gets home. I know when he is home, I’ll be running around even more.

I’ve suggested he could be a ‘guest blogger’ for me and write up accounts of some of our hillwalking trips while he is recovering at home. At the moment he’s not too keen on that idea, but has said he’ll select some of his photos for me, if I wish to write the blurbs.

I will get a few more blog entries written … sometime…