Right at the tail end of the Chinese New Year holiday (not something that particularly matters to most Indonesians but something that did happily coincide with my school break), I went to Morocco to visit my cousin. After about a day in Rabat adjusting to the cold and being shepherded around, I set out on my own. I did a partial loop through several tourist attractions before finally ending up at the Chellah, a collection of Roman ruins that ended up being my favorite place that I visited in all of Morocco.
The Chellah was enclosed by walls, giving it the feeling of a large garden. After walking down a short path, I came to the main section of ruins.
The ruins were from various periods of construction—there were both Roman and Islamic constructions. I wasn’t able to glean much more, as I hadn’t brought my guidebook, had declined the guide who approached me as soon as I’d paid my entrance fee, and didn’t bother trying to read any of the French signs or to eavesdrop on the French tour groups that came through.
Besides being a nice, peaceful escape from the city, the ruins at least temporarily satisfied my desire to wander around in abandoned buildings.
It was rather hard (at least for me) to tell what bits of the buildings had been reconstructed and what had not, but I appreciated the architecture for what it was and enjoyed meandering around amongst the cats and orange trees.
There were also many, many storks nesting atop the ruins, flying about undeterred by the humans below or sitting in their nests and clacking their beaks.