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Sijilmassa
was my fantasy, the reason I traveled so far South- my temptation
in this country of
I decided
to ignore all warnings (most guidebooks did not even mention the place),
and dragged my two willing travel companions to the scene of the crime.
And crime it was. Nothing, nothing and more nothing. Not an even a
crumbling wall to be wondered at- only a pile of mud and sand- dryness
with a few emerging telephone poles.
Later,
I learned from a knowledgeable Spanish man living in Morocco that
there had once been an American- Moroccan dig sponsored in the region,
but that it had been short lived and without great results. There
also once was a Sijilmassa museum in Rissani, but it sank into legend.
as did the city before it. Now it's just a shut door and an empty
room. Any prospective Fulbrights? |
Travel
is bound to have its disappointments. One reads, prepares, psychologically
enhances the sights to be seen, the people to be met, the foods to
be tasted. Without the lure of such travel rewards, one would probably
not put up with the long travel hours, the same clothes worn over
and over again, the dreadful smells...
Sijilmassa....
the heart of the Caravan trade, the center of Gold transactions, the
once glorious city. A rival to Marrakech, Fes and Timbuctou.
With such a reputation,