In Islamic countries such as Morocco, a misbaha hangs on to the vehicle’s rear-view mirror, like how a rosary does in Catholic countries. I watched one dangle to and fro with every move of the grand taxi we hired from Meknes. It had a somewhat soporific effect. And coupled with the sibilant hiss of the cab’s engine — as ancient as the Roman colonial city we were heading to — I found it a herculean task to stay awake.

We were cruising through a valley populated by olive trees towards the ruins of Volubilis. In just about five minutes, as I was about to drift to sleep, we reached the entrance of this UNESCO World Heritage Site. The parking space was near empty. My husband, daughter and I swiftly hopped out of the car, eager to explore without the crowds.

The air was crisp. The sky, cloudless. And the silence was broken once in a while only by the cackling of birds nesting atop pillars we saw from a distance. We walked past patches of pretty amber-hued wild flowers, in the direction of the archaeological site. I stripped out of my bag lady ensemble as we went, for the morning spring sun’s rays suddenly grew warmer.

Volubilis’ grounds were unsupervised, I believe ’til this very day. Save for a few cordoned-off areas, visitors can freely climb and walk on any of the restored structures. Exactly what we did the whole morning.