Ssalamū
'lekum اسلا عليكم
dear family and friends. You find us in the Anti Atlas Mountains, at 4,000
feet, in a town called Tafraoute, nestled in a basin surrounded on all sides by
mountains. We are camped in amongst the palm trees looking out at the most
magnificent mountains that change from deep ochre during the day, to a deep
pink as that sun goes down. The temperature at night drops to a chilly 9 degrees,
but by 9:30am is climbing into the twenties and has reached 25-28 each day. The
air is fresh and unpolluted, the people are delightful and the children, with
their heartbreak big brown eyes and melting smiles, are a joy to have around.
They come to visit, asking for bonbon (sweets); we keep our supply
handy.....It’s trick or treat every day of the week!
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| Fang looking for inspiration in them there hills....when she found it she dropped her bike! |
But lets take a step back, when
last we blogged we were on the coast and heading for the Sahara.....and so we
did.
From our idyllic camp on the
beach we headed south to Tiznit. We stayed in a campsite just outside the town
walls and spent a fascinating two days just wandering around the town, the souk
and the open market where we got lost and had to catch a taxi back to camp..
cost 7dh.. 50 pence
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| Fresh chicken sir? |
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| They treat their old folk with respect here |
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| This is Tiznit Bob.....we were having a mint tee across the road and saw him actually jump in front of a car that was trying to get away without paying him! Held up the traffic while he extracted payment.......don't mess with Bob! |
Then it was further south to Sidi
Ifni. We had developed a slow puncture a couple of days before and decided that
perhaps we should get it sorted before heading into the wilds of the Sahara
Desert; so we stopped in a village on the way and found a tyre place.......but
not exactly the sort of Kwik Fit we are used to!
Rashide has a shop on the high
street and you just pull up on the road outside; he jacks your vehicle up and
goes to work......everyone else.....the traffic, the donkeys, the carts and the
pedestrians just work their way around the action, the Health & Safety
goons in the UK would have a fit, but it works and it’s the Moroccan way!
He worked so hard Fang bought him
a cake to restore his energy......and when we asked how much? He said ‘give me what
you think I should have’......... Good psychology, as of course we gave him far
more than we needed to...... his face lit up and he was off to buy a house!
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| Rashide goes to work |
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| 'He seems to have everything under control.....think I'll go for a mint tea' |
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| Rashide, my very best friend |
And so tyre fixed it was back on
the road again. The only reason for visiting Sidi Ifni was to go to the Sunday
Market, and we had timed our visit accordingly, arriving on the Saturday lunch
time and booking into a campsite very close to the where the market was being
held. And what a brilliant experience this was.....we all love a Sunday Market
don’t we? But Sunday market Moroccan style takes Sunday markets to an entirely
new level.....
At the beginning of December
Morocco suffered some horrendous rain, which decimated a lot of the country; numerous
people were just swept away along with their houses never to be found again.
Sidi Ifni was one of the towns that suffered very badly with a lot of lives
lost, roads damaged and two campsites completely obliterated and washed in to
the sea.
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| One of the annihilated campsites.....fortunately they cleared all the motorhomes off before the devastation |
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| This is the main road out of town |
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| No cones you will notice! |
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| The white line is the centre of the road |
Next stop was to a campsite
nestled right in a secluded valley which is only accessible by a 3 mile drive
on a stony sandy track, but worth the effort. The campsite was so relaxing; we
were just out in the country no traffic, no town noises. We saw that they
served Tagines, which is a traditional cooking method, the Moroccans (and I
think others) use to slow cook their meat a vegetables. Fang ordered lamb and I
ordered Camel.....yes you heard me right, I had Camel Tagine....it was
delicious, a white meat that tastes like a cross between lamb and chicken, very
tender with no fat. Not sure what cut of meat I had; weather it was the rump or
the hump, but it were right grand.
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| The table set for our lunch |
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| The campsite owner is French and invites his guests to an aperitif before lunch......at this stage Fang had consumed three Gin and waters and I have my hand behind her to stop her falling off the chair....she had that daft grin on her face until she fell asleep for her afternoon siesta! |
On leaving the campsite we made
our way to one of the Women’s Co-Operatives that we had heard about. At this
particular co-operative they make products from the Argan nut. Each nut has to
be individually cracked by hand and this is done, as it has been for hundreds
of years, by the women. The nuts are then crushed, put through a process and
turned into Argan oil, which is used for cooking and health & beauty
products. It takes one women 15 hours and to crack 30 kilograms of nuts, enough
Argon to produce 1 litre of Argan oil. However, because this is a co-operative,
all the women get paid a fair wage and are treated with dignity. As a buyer
from a co-operative you can be sure that the product is genuine (a lot of the
road side sellers mix the Argan oil with olive oil) and that you are buying
Faire Trade.
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| We wanted to take these two home with us |
As you can see Fang had a bash at
cracking some nuts but just ended up cracking her fingers! Giving the job up she tried to bite into the nut,
much to the horror of the women. We later found out why; The Argan nut has a
rough shell on the outside, when it falls off the tree, the women let the goats
eat these which pass straight through
their system, (the goats system not the women’s ) and out the other end, minus
the rough outer shell, saving the women a job.
They then just go round picking up the cleaned
nuts ready for cracking; So yes.....Fang
was chewing on a nut that had been shot out of a Goats bottom. It’s put her
right off her honey coated cashews and she can’t look a walnut in the eye
without thinking of goat’s bottoms!
And so onto a wild camp at a place
called Plage Blanche (white beach). The beach stretches for 36 kilometres of
undisturbed, beautiful, natural splendour. We spent a wonderful two days and
two nights walking the sand dunes during the day and gazing at the stars at
night, without any light pollution to distract from the cosmic display.
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| 'I want to be alone' |
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| Fang doing some bartering....some clothes in exchange for some bread....the bread was home made and they must have walked a couple of miles from the nearest village......she is asking Fang if she has any jackets. |
Now we were heading into the
Sahara proper; we went to TaTa and onto Tarfaya and finally to Laayoune, the
last outpost before the long haul to Dakhla, a trip we decided not to do as
it’s a very long way and then a very long way back on the same road! I will let
the pictures tell the story.
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| Doing a deal in the desert |
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| A desert road |
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| Two dogs in the desert |
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| 'This is all very nice, but I can do without the sand in my knickers' |
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| A rainbow in the desert |
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| Yes there really are camels in the desert |
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| No begging sign at Goulimime |
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| The entrance to Tan Tan |
The Sahara Desert in Morocco is
still a disputed area, and although there has not been any trouble for several
years now, it is still a militarized zone with army and armed police, road
blocks are common where they check your passport and record where you have come
from and where you are going to.
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| At a check point in the desert |
Laayoune is an interesting town
in that no one is from Laayoune! It’s a town dominated by the UN and the
military and that’s its only function. It is populated by Moroccans attracted
by the good wages, the army and UN officials driving around in their white
vehicles with the big UN painted on the side. It has the strange feel of an
itinerant town where no one belongs and is interesting for this alone.
As you will see from the map that
you no doubt have open beside you, Laayoune is a long way from anywhere so we
needed an overnight stop. We knew there were no campsites here but had planned
to find a wild camp in the town; however, after walking around the town and
seeing the military, the police and the UN forces everywhere, and after
experiencing all the security checks on the way in, we decided that parking up
for the night in the town was not going to work.
About 8 miles outside Laayoune
town is the sea, so we headed for the beach to look for a night stop. After
going through yet another security check we finally found an open area where
another motor home had pulled up, so safety in numbers we joined him. Our
companion turned out to be a charming Dutchman called Paul who joined us for
the evening and had a meal.....prepared by Chef Fang.....backed beans, fried
potatoes and double eggs, Fang’s speciality, and as Paul is a vegetarian right
on the button!
At about 10:00 that night a
police car rocked up with blue lights flashing. Luckily Paul was still with us,
and as he speaks French, he jumped out to deal with the coppers.....
(I followed clutching my French
phrase book, page open on Consulates Abroad) it turned out they were asking
Paul where we were going. ‘Nowhere’ says he ‘we are staying here the night’.
‘No you’re not’ says copper Abdul. ‘Why not?’ says Paul, and that was it; they
were having none of his charming persuasive chat and demanded to see our
passports!
When I went back in the van and
told Fang they wanted to see our passports she thought that life as we know it
was over, and was already looking in the wardrobe trying to decide what best to
wear for a night in a Moroccan jail.
However, after the usual
interminable wait (they have to fill in a form with the details from your
passport) they came back and told us we had to move on.....at 10:00 at night!
Paul tried some more of his
continental charm, but they just frog marched him over to his van and told him to
get in and follow them; then came over to me and told me to do the same.
And so now I am back in the van
and Fang wants to know what’s going on, ‘They want us to follow them’ says
I.... ‘What for?’ says Fang... ‘Not sure’ says I.... ‘Oh $%&*^’... says
Fang... ‘My thoughts exactly’ says I; And
off we go following the Moroccan Bill with their blue lights still flashing, the
dishes from our evening meal clanking about in the sink and Fang in the back
trying to decide if they will let her take her electric toothbrush into jail.
But all is well in this blessed country and
her beautiful people; the police officers were just taking us somewhere safer
than where we had parked. Calm and serenity once more restored to the
Trundlebus we spent a peaceful, undisturbed night, once Fang had unpacked her
going to jail bag! She did, of course, spend the rest of the night on copper
watch.
Next morning we parted company
with Paul and made our way through the road blocks and back North.
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| Fang relaxing in Paul's van |
We spent the next couple of days
retracing our journey (as you will see from the map you have beside you there
is only one road!) back to Agidir where we had heard you could get solar panels
fitted on your van for a very good price. But the quote was more expensive than
the one given in the UK , this turned out to be very disappointing and was a
wasted trip.
However, our journey from Agadir to
Tafraoute was very special and brought us through the majestic Ameln Valley. As
luck would have it the Almond blossom is just coming out so we were treated to a
gorgeous display of pink trees.
We are wild camping in an area
just outside the town. Every day the women come round selling their wares;
bread, cakes, fantastic fresh donuts and fruit. One lady in particular (our
favourite) comes around each evening with a big pot of the most delicious homemade
Moroccan soup.....this has become our standard lunch, set off with a loaf of
traditional Moroccan round bread called a khoubz.....life is good here!
An interesting thing about Tafraoute
is that, unusually, it is very affluent, both the town and the surrounding
villages. The reason for this, apparently, is that the young people leave the town
and villages to go and work in the big cities and abroad; they then send money
back to the family.
When they have made some decent
cash they come back home and build big houses for the whole family.....this is
the Moroccan way. So for the first time since we have been in Morocco we are
seeing a town without shanty town on the out skirts and virtually no beggars on
the streets.
On one particular day we took a
walk into the next village to try and find a prehistoric rock carving of a
Gazelle which is purported to be 6,000 years old. On our way into the village
we noticed there was an old Kasbah on top of granite outcrop.
A Kasbah is a fortified house
which may accommodate several generations; so there could be 30 to 40 adults
and children living there. Most of these old dwellings have now fallen into disrepair
as this is not the way families live any more, however, some have been restored
and are a joy to visit.
We were not sure if we could
visit this particular Kasbah but made the climb up to have a look see, and sure
enough there was some restoration work going on but no one seemed to be about.
We were just on the verge of giving up when Ahmed came rushing up and greeted
us with the traditional ‘Welcome, You are very welcome’. He then took us on a
tour of this traditional Berber house which he was restoring using all the old
building techniques. It was a fabulous insight into how a Berber family would
live and as his English was excellent we bombarded him with lots of questions!
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| Ahmed showing us an old couscous plate for the whole family to share |
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| A baby's rocker which was just outside the kitchen door so Mum could hear baby |
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| The view from the terrace |
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| Ahmed is showing Fang some of the old family documents and contracts.....the ones Fang is holding are wooden |
After the tour he invited us to
stay for mint tea served in the traditional Berber way, and this is when we
were able to get the full story. This had been Ahmed’s family home for 500
years so he knew all the history of the Kasbah from his grandparents, who had
heard it from their grandparents and so on down the ages.
The rest of the family had gone
down into the village to live in modern houses but when Ahmed came of age he
decided to go back, live in the old Kasbah, and restore his family heritage, at
the same time as studying for a degree in Biology at the university in Agadir;
a 5 hour journey there and 5 hours back, twice a week. It was an absolute
delight to spend time with, drinking tea and hearing his story, Ahmed is a
charming intelligent man (he is 22), who is committed to preserving his
heritage and that of his village.
After tea Ahmed offered to take
us to see the carving of the Gazelle which was literally just behind his
Kasbah.
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| Our second stop over in the village in amongst the palms |
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| Sunset at our camp |
He then invited us to join him
for lunch. As luck would have it the village was having a ceremony to welcome
in the Almond season. All the women were in a field behind the village cooking
a traditional Berber meal for the whole village called Tagala. Ahmed took us out to the back of the village
and sat us down in the shade of an Argan tree.
He went off to where the women
were cooking and a couple of minutes later came back with what I can only describe
as a washing up bowl full of this Tagala! The three of us sat around this bowl,
under the tree, and ate our lunch with our hands......it was the highlight of
our trip so far! During lunch Ahmed told us that he was trying to start a
co-operative, in conjunction with the women of the village, to try and improve
their lives and preserve some of their traditions.
We told him that we had some
children’s clothes that we wanted to give away and asked him if they would be
of any help in the village...we arranged that Ahmed would come and visit us the
next day to collect the clothes. We wanted to pay something for the lunch but
Ahmed said that the women were just happy to have us as guests!
The next day Ahmed came to visit
us in our van. He told us that he had mentioned our gift to the women of the
village and they had asked him to invite us to join their co-operative! Our
visit to Tafraoute and been an unexpected joyful insight into the Berber way of
life and will remain a wonderful memory.....shukran Ahmed my friend.
We now plan to head further east
and out into the Sahara again, so until next we blog, we bid you m’a ssalama,
Dear Family & Friends.
