Dan H: the world traveling saxophone holder: 10 Month African Trails Epic Adventure: Week 3

Week 3 - Nov. 25th - Dec. 1st

Day 15 - bush-camp to Tinerhir
Day 16 - day in Tinerhir (Todra Gorge)
Day 17 - Tinerhir to Dades Gorge to bush-camp
Day 18 - bush-camp to Ouarzazate to Marrakech
Day 19 - day in Marrakech
Day 20 - day in Marrakech
Day 21 - day in Marrakech

One of my fellow travelers, Jeremy, imparted to me some of his advice on the subject of traveling, advice that was especially appropriate for those that would be passing through countries whose poverty levels would ensure that any western tourists were swarmed by opportunistic locals that were desperate to make a quick buck or two (or Dihram or two, to be exact, in the country of Morocco). The advice was, specifically, to act as if you hate everyone in the country you're visiting. This is advice, of course, that should not be taken too seriously, with a grain of salt, as the saying goes. I would hate for you to think that my fellow traveler Jeremy is a bitter misanthropic curmudgeon who automatically treats every single foreign individual with absolute suspicion, far from it! It's simply advice meant to deal with individuals whose persistence in trying to squeeze a profit out of you far exceeds the standards of politeness that us British people (by British I mean myself and Jeremy, there are many nationalities represented in our whole group) are used to which, let’s face it, are higher than one would expect from most countries!

In Morocco, the more polite you are to the salesmen, the more they will bug you, the best thing to do is ignore them, sunglasses help for avoiding eye contact, which is basically an invitation to be annoyed by a merchant who is trying to foist a cardboard Fez worth roughly ten pence to you for about twenty quid.

My only reservation with this otherwise sound advice is that one could end up taking it a little bit too far. The Moroccan people are, for the most part, extremely friendly and delightful, waving at us on almost every occasion as we drove past. So it would be overly cynical to assume that every single Moroccan is out to make a quick buck. One could even take this advice much too far and wind up treating everybody with outright hostility and then the most likely outcome for us would be to end up being chopped into kebab meat by indignant locals and sold to corpulent western tourists in the local bazaars.

Or perhaps the paranoia would lead our entire group to form themselves into some kind of quasi-militia group, arming ourselves with pointed sticks, frying pans, cooking utensils and clubs formed from unused firewood. Growling with bloodlust driven fury we would violently bludgeon any individual who did as much as venture within fifty feet of our truck. I'm sure that such behavior would not exactly be likely to endear us to the local population but at least our possessions would be safe! OK perhaps I'm taking the sarcasm to somewhat extreme levels here but as I said, this advice shouldn't really be taken too seriously. It did help to shake off the more annoyingly persistent rug salesmen though. Try it the next time you're wandering around a Moroccan medina.

To return to our itinerary: we left our bush camp (on day 15) and headed west across the rocky, arid desert towards the town of Tinerhir. When we arrived we were treated to some of the most amazing scenery we had seen yet, Tinerhir was a large town built in a lush, verdant oasis slap bang in the middle of some of the most stark, bleak, mountainous desert scenery imaginable. To see the contrast of stunning green plant growth against the barren desert surroundings was quite a sight to behold and most of us were hanging out of the vehicle, snapping away with our cameras. We drove deep into the valley, known as Todra Gorge where we found a guest-house to stay for the night. The more demanding travelers in our group elected to stay in the various rooms in the place (for extra money) but the more adventurous, or more accurately: tight fisted of us, chose to go for the cheapest (i.e. free) option: sleeping outside on the roof. Our host, Abdullah, was a somewhat sleazy bloke who kept on trying to buy our booze supplies off us and, after he became somewhat obliterated (or wasted, wankered, merry, etc... whatever) we found him looking through some of our baggage when he thought we weren't looking. I should point out that the other members of the house, presumably Abdullah's friends and family, were much more courteous and well behaved. They did help the cook teams prepare some delicious Moroccan style food and an almost endless supply of tea was flowing forth for much of the night. An interesting cultural experience to say the least.

The next morning we awoke and, after checking our belongings carefully, we set off to explore our surroundings. Todra gorge was a spectacular sight and some of the group entertained themselves with some rock climbing up the sheer rock faces. Though this would have been a perfectly acceptable pastime to suit my tastes I was content with the cheaper (i.e. free) option of a hike and, later on in the day, a rock scramble up one of the less steep cliff faces. Later we returned to the guest house and enjoyed some more of the 'Abdullah & co' brand of hospitality. Some of our more picky fellow travelers elected to stay at the nearby hotel or indoors but most of us were content with being exposed to the elements on top of the draughty old roof.

After packing up the truck in the morning we set off towards another gorge: Dades Gorge, a place with some even more spectacular views than the previous day. For most of the day we were treated to many more impressive sights, including more views of lush desert oases in the middle of arid, stark desert scenery. In the evening we found yet another quiet spot in middle of nowhere to camp. Jeremy entertained everyone with Tarot card readings for many people in the group, it seems that most readings result in forecasts of doom and gloom, ranging from 'oh dear that's not too good' to 'oh dear your life is completely fucked'. Or perhaps that's not the norm for Tarot cards and Jeremy was just winding everybody up.

The next day involved gazing out over some of the most amazingly beautiful scenery I'd seen yet in Morocco, a drive through the high Atlas Mountains. I spent the entire trip, which lasted all day, gazing out of the window snapping quite possibly more photos than the rest of the week combined. If you're ever in Morocco you should, without a doubt, check out the mountain pass on the road between Ouarzazate and Marrakech, it's absolutely stunning. We finally reached Marrakech, the most exciting and tourist oriented city in all of Morocco, and were quite pleased to find a large, clean campsite which featured hot showers and flush toilets, a rarity in Morocco (I've never been able to understand why anyone would favour those god-awful squatty latrines, the woeful side effect of Morocco’s heavy French influence).

Over the next few days (19-21) we spent time exploring the thrilling city of Marrakech, taking in the various sights and sounds. The central square was an exhilarating bustle of both tourists and locals, from snake charmers to salesmen to merchants crowded around their stalls, selling almost anything you could care to buy (and many more things that nobody in their right mind would ever want to buy). After the sun went down the market became even more crowded and congested as this was the time the 'restaurants' came out. By restaurants I mean long tables and benches placed within reach of a grill and a large meat stand. The waiters of these ubiquitous competing gastronomic pick-and-mix stalls would rush out and accost potential customers, that is to say westerners (of which there were plenty), and then see could offer the most tempting bargain to entice the potential customers. Since we were a group of about sixteen we were a proverbial gold-mine to the various waiters and it wasn't long before the friendly competition between 'restaurant' staff degenerated into a shouting match which I found enormously entertaining. Eventually we were promised 'five meals for free' if we all went to one place. It was good food, though we weren't entirely surprised when our waiter tried to renege on his earlier offering, only after some mild altercation were we able to come to an agreement, though this entertaining affair was all part of the scintillating street theatre that we had all come to expect as standard by now in Morocco.

After a few days in Marrakech we were ready to head off down towards the barren plains and dunes of the Sahara Desert. All showered, clean, refreshed and ready to accept that this might be the last time in a long while where we would be able to have a proper shower. But that's next week, not now.