Morocco 2006

Another spectacular climb, on another narrow winding road, up and out of the Draa Valley, and then down into dusty Ouarzazate.     We got here shortly after noon, got a decent clean hotel with a tv, a heater and lots and lots of hot water.     Headed out to our ‘favourite’ restaurant for another salad nicoise.     Thought about hitting the bank up again but decided not to push our luck.     So we strolled over to the kasbah for a little ‘window shopping.’     Although we did buy a couple of mini-tagines as souvenirs, we tired of the constant harassment by shop-keepers who literally followed us down the street trying to convince us to buy something we ‘looked at,’ but didn’t want, and demanding to know what our ‘last price’ for it would be.     All a little wearing, and in the end doesn’t serve their purpose when people like us just give up and go back to their hotel.     In any event, a fierce dust storm suddenly blew...

The next morning we were up early and headed back to Rissani for gas and food before heading west, and a bit south, to the Draa Valley and Zagora.     We were following a line of about a dozen camper vans from France, about five kilometers out of Merzouga, on a lonely stretch of desert, when suddenly they all pulled over, on both sides of the road.     They effectively blocked traffic in both directions.     As we threaded our way through them we saw that the reason they’d all stopped was not some mechanical problem that one of them was having, but that ALL of them were emptying their septic tanks right there by the side of the road.     Unfortunately this is not the first time we’ve seen French tourists behaving in such a disgraceful way.     Tabernac. When we stopped in Rissani we were immediately accosted by someone wanting us to look in his shop and buy whatever it was he was selling (it wasn’t clear what).  We weren’t inte...

It was snowing when we left Dades Gorge.     Regardless of that minor inconvenience (we are Canadian, so what’s a little snow), we decided we’d head up into the Todra Gorge.     That meant going directly east to Tinghir and then north into the gorge.     Todra is much narrower, rougher, rockier, and more dramatic than Dades.     The road twists and turns through     somewhat menacing, and very high vertical rock walls that defied the penetration of even the smallest shafts of light.     It was bitterly cold.     At the top of the gorge we came upon a very poor village, Tamtetoucht, where the ragged children reminded me of children I’d met in the Andes, with rough weather-reddened cheeks, chapped lips, bare feet, and beseeching eyes.     There are so many people in this world who lead such desperate lives, with no hope of anything better, no chance to improve their lot, and so little, really, to live for. ...

We met Mohammed of the Mountains in Dades Gorge.  We were picnicking, having just driven to the beautifully rugged and very cold top of the gorge, and was tending his agricultural plots in one of the many little valleys along the Dades River.  He took us on a guided tour of the valley,  telling us about the irrigation system and how it worked, what crops were planted when, and which indigenous plants were good for teas and medicines. And sharing with us the traditional beliefs, customs and lifestyles of the once highly nomadic Berber people. We were honoured when, at the end of our walk, Mohammed invited us to come with him to his mother’s home.  The home was in a small village north and west of  Boumalne Dades, known as the ‘gateway to the gorge,’  and the town where our hotel was situated.  In this village the mostly two-story buildings, all made red clay, often mixed with straw, and sometimes cement, for strength, ...