On board a camel (and other desert adventures)

On Thursday, after six days in the cities of Morocco (Tangier – Casablanca – Meknes – Fes) we boarded our minivan (our mode of transport for the next five or six days), and headed out into the ‘countryside’. 

Leaving the cities behind was definitely the highlight of the tour for me.  Finally, I was able to stop comparing Morocco to ‘kind of like Turkey’ (but hotter and drier), and appreciate this country for it’s amazing landscape and unique architecture.

The mountains, the dry and rocky landscapes with villages rising out of the dust, the lush fertile valleys and the beauty and expanse of the desert – I can’t compare it, because it is just like nothing else I’ve ever seen before.  Some of it is dramatic and awe-inspiring, some has been beautiful and tranquil and some has been just incredible:  I just can’t believe I’ve now ridden camels through the dunes in the Sahara desert!

My diary seems to be filled with attempts to describe the ‘colour palette’ of the Moroccan countryside.  What I came up with was:
“Everything here is very much from one colour palette: the desert shrubs are a dull green, brown or silver while the earth and rocks are hues of brown, grey, orange pink and red.  The buildings are made from earth, rocks and straw, and therefore seem to rise out of the landscape; but at the same time they tend to blend and merge into the surrounding landscape. 
Then, we will round a corner and be presented with the vivid green of a lush fertile valley.  At one time, we passed an expanse of blue (the 3^rd largest dam in Morocco)”.

We spent five days in the ‘countryside’ of central Morocco, and during that time:

·         Spent a night in a guest house in Midelt (in the Moroccan high plains), surrounded by fertile agricultural region.  We walked through a small village, and up to a spectacular gorge.

·         We drove past the tent-homes of nomadic families; who graze their animals on this land during the summer.

·         We visited a fossil shop - in this case, the sales ‘spiel’ was fascinating… the oldest fossils they had were 530 million years old (I think they were called trilobites?)  This area (Aloufah, at the beginning of the Sahara) was a sea millions of years ago, and there were 10’s – if not 100’s of these fossil shops.  The finished products (ornaments, bowls, pendants, and larger pieces of furniture) were quite beautiful – polished marble with ancient creatures ‘inside’.

·         Reaching the desert ‘proper’ was an experience in itself: one moment we were heading along the sealed road, staring in awe at the orange-pink tinted sand dunes in the distance… The next moment, our driver swerved off the road, and started to ‘slalom’ across the plains (I’m not kidding: apparently he couldn’t go in a straight line: something to do with avoiding the soft patches of sand, and/or corrugations?!)  The land appeared  to be completely featureless – certainly, there was no road or directional aids to follow – then, like a mirage we arrived at a bunch of signs sticking out of the sand (I thought these looked rather bizarre; nothing else around, just the sand dunes in the distance).

·         With great excitement (and quite a bit of trepidation) I climbed aboard my first camel.   The ascent from sitting to standing is not the world’s most elegant manoeuvre, but I managed to stay upright. 

Setting off into the desert was amazing.  However, after about 10 minutes, most of us had decided that the novelty had started to wear off!  Camels are NOT a comfortable mode of transport; their gait is not smooth, and going downhill they lurch forwards as their front legs sink into the sand, causing me to slide to the front of the saddle.  At all other times I kept sliding to one side (I would have sworn that my camel was lopsided, except that I had the same problem the next day on a different beast… so I guess it was me?)  I also discovered that I couldn’t take photos while riding – as I didn’t feel secure enough to let go with both hands (and my big camera is not a one-handed operation).

·         I climbed to the top of the sand dunes behind our camp (it reminded me of Mount Ngauruhoe in NZ – one step forward, slide two steps back… walking uphill on sand is hard work!) - and attempted to run back down.  The downhill was fun, but Carrie was more fearless, and much faster than me (I got the sensation of losing control of my limbs, and the ground speeding by under me!)

·         I slept in the open; on a Moroccan carpet on the sand (it was too hot inside the tent).  At one point in the night I woke to find that the cloud cover had lifted, and the stars had appeared… it wasn’t the most spectacular night display I’d ever seen, but it was the most surreal: knowing that I was lying on the Sahara desert!  The magic of the situation was somewhat interrupted by a minor sand storm in the middle of the night, during which we were pelted with sand, but I stuck it out and it wasn’t too bad (I did wake with a lot of the Sahara in my hair and up my nose).

·         Back on the road, and away from the sand dunes – but still very much in ‘desert’ country - we reached a small town.  A line of rocks across the road blocked our progress, so we were directed down a back road; again, a line of rocks prevented our passage.  The issue (as our group leader determined) was that the townspeople had had no water for 10 days, so they were protesting, and not letting any cars through.  We saw people with buckets and barrow-loads of plastic containers heading to the well.  I think all of us were completely in support of these people: 10 days in the Sahara without water supply seems like a fairly good reason for complaint.  (Although, it did cross my mind that we wouldn’t want to become the Western-hostages helping to raise the profile of this town’s grievances… to be fair, at no point did we feel under any kind of threat). 
I wonder if the water supply is back yet?  I thought it was really interesting to see people taking to the streets in an active demonstration – just like the rubbish issue in Fes – it would be a rare occasion that rallied the masses in NZ or Aust.

·         In marked contrast to the desert, we spent the next night at Todra Gorge: an impressive sight, with a narrow road, and small river flanked by towering vertical rock faces.  Looking up was enough to induce vertigo.  Our hotel was built right up against the rock face; with the ‘river’ barely 20 meters from the front door (it was fairly shallow and small – although it does apparently flood at some times of the year).

The pebbled river-shore was busy with families enjoying a weekend picnic, and kids splashing about in the river.  Their picnics looked fantastic: we watched as one family unrolled a full-size carpet (rather than a picnic mat), unpacked low chairs (and tables – I think), and produced tagines of food!

Thinking that a dip in the river would be just the thing to cool-off after the hot drive, Katie, Carrie and I changed into beach-wear (I was in shorts and t-shirt, so fairly well covered up).  Sitting on the rocks at the edge of the river we spent the next 30 minutes feeling incredibly awkward: all of the other women around were ‘fully’ dressed, most wore the traditional kaftan-style dress and headscarf… and the woman in the full black berka and gloves just made us feel even more self-conscious.
I know I am putting my own prejudices on things, but I just can’t see how the women can have any ‘fun’ here.

·         Just up the road from Todra Gorge is one of the most fertile valleys imaginable: we walked through gardens with olive trees, figs, peaches, pomegranates, tomatoes, corn, cabbages and much more.  It was lush and green, with irrigation channels full of water – again; such a contrast from much of the surrounding area.

·         We travelled the road of 1000 kasbahs (fortified cities made of earth and rock, and looking very much like medieval castles).  I have no idea whether there truly are 1000 of them along this road – it wasn’t particularly evident to me that there were any more along this stretch of road than everywhere else we travelled.  Ait Benhaddou is one of the most impressive in both size and situation (it is built up the side of a hill, so commands a view of all the surrounding land, and equally, can be seen from the surrounding land).  The best view was from our hotel swimming pool!  - It was just an amazing backdrop, floating in our pool looking out towards this old ‘castle’… it was just like the backdrop for a movie set (which in reality, is just what it is: having featured in a number of movies, including – apparently – Gladiator)

If I’d opted to tour Morocco on my own I would have stuck to visiting the ‘big’ cities, and would have missed the most extraordinary parts.  Yesterday, Carrie said she needed to find another word for ‘awesome’ – again, it reminds me of trekking in Nepal and ‘running out of adjectives’!