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MOROCCO and WESTERN SAHARA
'The World is a book and those who do not travel, read only a page.'
Saint Augustine
6th-7th October
We arrived in Ceuta approx. 12 noon, filled up with diesel and remembered from our last visit to Morocco, not to slow down as people leapt out in front of the vehicle hoping to help us through the border. Straight through the Spanish border without stopping. Then at the Moroccan border, Mohammed offered to give us advice and proved really helpful in getting us through the correct kiosks and arranging insurance for Moby. A little French and big smiles, some coins for Mohammed and the police waved us through, without even asking what we had inside the vehicle.
Mohammed No.2 pulled up alongside us at traffic lights on his motorbike, welcoming us to Morocco and informing us that it was the second day of Ramadan and we were very lucky because the Berber market was on today at the old Medina of Tetouan. Mohammed insisted that he could find us a secure parking place but after discovering that our vehicle was too high to enter, a space was cleared at the entrance to a building site and Omar miraculously appeared to guard our vehicle, which he duly barricaded in with an old oil drum and a chair.
The souk in the old Medina was in fact an amazing labyrinth of alleyways and tunnels, full of sounds, colour, smells, animals and people. The fruit and vegetables were arranged neatly in a riot of colour amongst bunches of fresh, aromatic herbs, barrows of freshly baked bread, bowls piled high with dates, olives and figs, sacks of spices and hens to choose from, dead or alive! Berber women wearing huge, decorative, straw hats sat on the ground with their goods also neatly arranged in front of them. We were of course, skilfully guided through the throngs of people and heavily laden donkeys, to Mohammed's friend, the carpet seller and although we insisted that we could not possibly fit a carpet in the Land Rover, the glasses of refreshing mint tea arrived and the beautiful Tetouan carpets were unrolled with a flourish at our feet. The owner, who spoke perfect English, was quick to assure us that he only dealt with Harrods and Liberty of London when selling his carpets in England! They were visibly disappointed when we could not be persuaded to buy.
We said our goodbyes to Mohammed and Omar and continued our journey through Chefchaouen in the Rif Mountains. This region is one of the main producers of cannabis in Morocco and we had been warned to be aware of the hashish sellers in the town, as well as on the mountain roads. The old town of Chefchaouen is famous also for its many picturesque streets and buildings that are painted with various beautiful shades of blue wash, some a stunning brilliant blue! It is also a popular place for tourists who are attracted there to buy the many local handicrafts.
The road to Ouazzane wound up and down through the Rif mountains but almost every river bed was just a tumble of dry, bleached boulders and stones and the wind was so hot that we felt we were already in the desert! Villages and homes lined the route. Most people were working in the fields and as the afternoon progressed, donkeys were led or ridden home laden with goods and people crowded around wells or water taps filling their various containers.
The mountains almost disappeared after Ouazzane, where we were pulled over by the police for pulling out to overtake a slow moving van, as we entered the town. Fortunately they understood our apologies in French and let us off with just a warning but we must remember that police are often at the beginning and end of a town.
Rain clouds were gathering over the hills by late afternoon. Everyone we are sure, is waiting for the rains but as we arrived at the Daimant-Vert campsite at Ain Chekf just outside Fez,we only experienced a few drops. Our thanks go to Pietra and Christian whom we met there, not only for all their advice on Mauritania but also for their help in preparing 'les fiches' (forms) in advance, for when we reach the many checkpoints in Morocco. We are sure this advice will prove to be valuable and we wish you a safe journey back to Germany.
8th October
I bought a camping guidebook, 'Camping du Maroc' from the reception as we left Daimant-Vert and although in French, we were able to understand enough to discover some excellent campsites not listed in Lonely Planet.
We took the road to Ifrane, then Azrou and on to Khenifra. We noticed rivers flowing between Mrirt and Khenifra, water probably coming from high in the Sources de l'Oum-er-Rbia. We found Camping Des Artistes at El-Ksiba, recommended by our new guidebook. Run by Francois and Patricia with their numerous cats and dogs, it was really lovely, very quiet and with wonderful views across to the Middle Atlas, densely covered with trees in the foreground and with high, craggy peaks beyond. Only one other Swiss family there who insisted that when we reach Marrakech, we should experience a stay in a Riad in the old Medina.
9th October
We took a remote route to Imilchil, approx. 96 kilometres. It began to rain as we climbed high up into the Middle Atlas Mountains with spectacular scenery, huge ravines and sheer drops but still home to occasional remote settlements. As the rich, red soil returned however, it became very fertile with fields full of crops and children running into the road to wave. Fuel was getting worryingly low but we fortunately arrived at a little village, where we were able to stop for gazoil piped from a large oil drum. The children came running up and were so excited to see the picture that I took of them.
As we entered The High Atlas, the mountains changed to dramatic formations, colours and bare rock faces. The highest mountain range in North Africa and covering a distance of almost 1000 kilometres, the Berbers call them 'Mountains of Mountains'. There are many summits of over 3000m and 4000m.
Our next 50 kilometres off piste to Ait Hani was only a small part but it took some time, over rough tracks and past villages situated both in the fertile valleys and on bare rock faces.
At Ait Hani the track divided with confusing signs but two boys set us on the right route to the next village of Tamtattouchte with scenery so remote and barren but staggeringly beautiful, rock colours changing from green to purple, to red and to black. A further 50 kilometres or so and we arrived at the spectacular Todra Gorge. It was almost dark and not a good time to discover that the track suddenly ended and we had to deviate along a dry riverbed strewn with boulders. It had also started to rain once more. Leaving the gorge behind us, we arrived at Camping de L'Atlas amongst a palmeraie and the sound of rushing water. The mountainous journey from Ksiba to Todra had taken just over 7 hours and as it was now dark, we went into the campsite restaurant and ended the day with a great meal of tagine and pomegranates for dessert.
10th October
We made the short journey back to Todra Gorge to take photographs in the daylight and then continued towards Bourmaine Dades and Ouarzazate. We stopped to buy bread, fruit and vegetables on the way at El-Kalaa M'Gouna, a famous rose water production centre and one of the many small towns along this route that passes through the Vallee du Dades, as it threads its way between the High Atlas to the north and the Jebel Sarho range to the south. This famous valley has some of the biggest oases and line of Kasbahs and is often called 'The Valley of a Thousand Kasbahs.' We passed many Kasbahs, some in a more ruined state than others. The River Dades however, appeared completely dry, although we could see evidence of where it obviously flooded across the roads in the winter.
We camped at Ouarzazate, which had the lovely Taourirt Kasbah and an attractive mosque and later tried one of the famous couscous dishes in the town.
11th-12th October
We drove to Ait Benhaddou approx. 32 kilometres from Ouarzazate, to visit one of the most exotic and best-preserved Kasbahs in the entire Atlas region. It has been used for many film scenes in the past, such as Lawrence of Arabia and Jesus of Nazareth. Sandbags had been placed at intervals through the river and by stepping on these we were able to cross the water, which although low, was still flowing quite fast. The Kasbah and village were built up a hillside and we spent some time wandering through the many alleyways and rooms. This beautiful Kasbah was well worth a visit and from the top we could look out over the huge palmeraie below and to the desert beyond.
After leaving Ait Benhaddou, we took the Tizi-n-Tichka Pass to the east of the Toubkal region, which contains all the highest peaks of the High Atlas. This area was really barren and wild but we passed many little villages inhabited by the Atlas Berbers, who farm the fertile valleys that suddenly appeared in this remote region. Local boys, hoping for a sale, waved shining pieces of amethyst and other semi-precious stones at us, as we passed all along the route.
We finally arrived in Marrakech and still being Ramadan, as soon as it was dark, everyone and everything came to life. The deserted streets quickly teemed with people and traffic and hundreds of motor scooters zipped about all over the place! We parked Moby in a gated and guarded yard and remembering the Swiss people's advice about experiencing a Riad, we eventually located one in the old Medina, Hotel Assia. We took a room that overlooked the courtyard below, with its cool tiles, greenery and beautiful carved doors. Breakfast was served up on the roof where there was also a tented area, decorated with comfortable cushions on which to relax and enjoy peace and quiet, along with a lovely breeze. It was hard to believe that all the hustle and bustle was just below us, in fact, only a few minutes walk and we were in the famous Djemaa el Fnaa Square. Everything happens there after dark. It becomes ablaze with lights and crowded with people, thronging around storytellers, snake charmers, dancers and acrobats. We ate very cheaply at one of the numerous, hot food stalls, sampled delicious, fresh orange drinks from one of the many carts piled high with oranges and bought dates and nuts. We walked a maze of streets and found the various souks selling all kinds of wares. We really liked Marrakech, it had such a great atmosphere!
13th October
On to Agadir, a lovely city that was rebuilt following a devastating earthquake in 1960. It is situated on a vast sweep of beach and is therefore a popular tourist resort for Europeans, who are also attracted to its reported 300 days of sunshine a year!
We stayed at Camping International, which was conveniently situated within walking distance of both the town and beach. However toilet and washing facilities were poor, the campsite having obviously seen better days. We met some other overlanders there with Unimogs who were also travelling on to different parts of Africa. A very talented Moroccan artist was busy painting a large and colourful, desert scene on the side of one of their vehicles. We were so impressed that we asked if he would also paint a much smaller picture on Moby which he did in black and white, above both rear wheel arches.
14th October
We set off from Agadir with our new artwork, and took the road to Tiznit, then out to Mirleft on the coast and on to Sidi Ifni. Just before dark, we turned off piste at Guelmin for about 9 kilometres, grateful for the white-painted stones amongst the numerous tracks that eventually led us to Camping Bou-Jerif. The main building resembled a fort and it felt as if we had arrived at a fairy castle in the middle of the desert. Nothing at all but surrounding hills and the old, original, ruined fort we were told, not far from the campsite. We ate in the restaurant as it was late but there was no problem with serving us up a delicious vegetable tagine with camel meat, washed down with two beers!
15th October
This campsite was run by a French couple and besides hot showers and the superb restaurant, there was also the choice of cold beer or wine, French of course!
We were the only people there today. No sound at all, except for the wind, birds and constant buzzing of bees, as they gathered nectar from the hundreds of tiny flowers on the cacti that grew in abundance in the sand.
We walked to the old fort in the afternoon. It had once been a very large structure but was now in a state of ruin. Situated high on a hill, it overlooked the Oued Noun that surprisingly had a lot of water. We found a place where we could cross using stones and climbed on to the opposite hills that stretched away into the distance. This was a wonderful place, so quiet and remote and not a soul in sight. By evening however, we both had queasy stomachs! Could it have been the camel meat we wondered?
16th October
We left today following miles of stony desert, before once more turning off piste for Hotel and Camping Tafnidilt, another amazing fortress-type building amongst remote hills and offering wonderful views. Channel 4 had done some filming here we were told and were returning later to do more. There were four other Germans there with two Land Rovers, also going into Mauritania and later, three Spanish cyclists arrived on their return journey to Spain! How fit they must be to cycle over so many mountains!
17th October
We left the hills behind at Tan Tan where the two, white, camel structures face each other across the road and took the road to El Ouatia on the coast, where it began to pour with rain. The sky was grey to the horizon and the palm trees at the edge of the road looked wet and bedraggled. We stopped at the edge of cliff tops with a sheer drop down to the Atlantic, huge waves crashing over rocks and rusting hulks of ships, that had met their fate long ago.
The police waved us on from the doorway of their gendarmerie, obviously not wanting to venture out in the rain. We crossed a bridge over a river and could see it flowing into the sea on our right and after the small town of Sidi Akhfennir, the stony desert finally began to change to sand. Through Foum Agoutir, where the sea flowed in between sand dunes to form an estuary.
We could see long stretches of wild, untouched, sandy beach and at Tarfaya, the road turned inland to Laayoune. Just after Dawra however, we turned off piste to find Camping Les Bedouins, run by a couple from Belgium and in another very remote and peaceful area, by the Cascade de la Sebkha Oum Dbaa. Because of the rains there was water pouring over the edge of a small escarpment but the lake in the distance was not yet very full.
18th-19th October
A very hot day today with a clear blue sky. After leaving the campsite at Dawra, we have a long drive of over 500 kilometres to Dakhla. A tedious drive of endless, stony desert and glimpses of the sea to our right. There were numerous checkpoints along this route but the police were always very chatty and friendly and our prepared forms came in very useful!
Layounne was a sprawling town with an impressive road leading to the airport, another checkpoint, lots of army presence, a large barracks and a number of UN vehicles. Massive dunes of deep, yellow sand had drifted to the edge of the road at one section and we saw several camels.
There were police checks again before Lemsid and Boujdour, where sheer cliffs dropped down to the sea. We found one track however, that wound its way down to the sandy beach, where another rusty shipwreck was embedded only metres from the shore. Remote and wild, with only the sound of the waves and surf rolling in, it was a perfect place to stop and have our lunch.
The peninsular into Dakhla was very interesting with a low tide revealing a lunar-like landscape of mud flats, flat escarpments and rock formations. We stayed in the large, sandy yard at Camping Moussafir, which had hot showers but diabolical washing-up facilities and not surprisingly, a large rat in the toilets.
We filled up with water and also diesel, as it was cheap here. Tomorrow there will be another long stretch before reaching Mauritania.
20th October
We drove back along the narrow peninsular out of Dakhla and took the road for El Argoub. Flat, stony desert followed us on each side of the road with very little traffic. Only one other vehicle passed us coming from the opposite direction in over an hour. The sea still on our right looked beautiful, a deep turquoise, the surf breaking on the long, white, sandy shore. The stony desert changed to sand once more, with scrubby plants and low sand dunes.
Bill drank his last bottle of Old Speckled Hen best beer in the Western Sahara before we got to the Mauritanian border as no alcohol is allowed in and hefty fines we have been told if any is found. By early afternoon we still had 60 kilometres before Guerguarat. A hot, dry wind followed us all the way, drifting sand across the road from the huge dunes on our left.
We arrived at the border post to leave the Western Sahara, where one very chatty policeman helped us through all the formalities, delighted to be able to practise his English. We gave him a French/English phrase book that really pleased him as he was very keen to improve his English. Our passports checked and we were told to follow the tracks through deep sand for about 3 kilometres. A stretch of 'No Mans Land' where it was not advisable to stray off piste due to land mines. A wrecked Land Rover not far from the track proved this could be a grim reality!
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