Vantastic Voyage

Poor internet connection and frustrating failed attempts to post blogs with accompanying photos have been a barrier in Morocco. I’m happy to report we are back in business people. This should be a good start in getting you up to speed. Prepare yourselves, this is a long one…

The last couple of weeks (late February) have been spent on the coast and we’ve experienced a variety of weather. We stayed with Crazy Lynner in her apartment in Tamaraght for a bit longer than planned. Prior to arriving in Morocco, we came across some blogs that noted that there was a campsite called Atlantica Park that specialized in pimping out vans to your liking. Upon arrival, we found this was not the case and were limited to selling roll out plastic mats to lay in front of your van, awning material and custom cushions and curtains. We were in search of other items and had been considering a roof rack, water tanks to fit beneath the van, an inverter and car stereo. We stopped at a mechanic in Tamaraght after rolling through Atlantica Park which was just north about 15 kilometers. We were led around by a guy we would discover was drunk after driving around for an hour looking for something other than we were requesting, watching him run into an old French woman who was walking the same direction, and later nearly into an oncoming car. The beer and wine bottles laying around the shop we spotted upon our return had provided the final piece of evidence for us to draw our conclusions.  We decided to move on and to look for Lynne’s apartment which we’d found just as she was walking home from a day in Agadir – perfect timing. We would spend a good 5 days trying to figure out where to buy things and what would be possible to add to the van. I was assisted by the young owners of a hostel which were a Moroccan man Adile and his Croatian bride to be, Irena. Adile was very helpful and spent hours and numerous trips to Agadir with me to find what we were looking for. Things do not move quickly here and the way of doing business is a bit different. So after finally finding someone who said it were possible to custom make stainless steel water tanks to fit under our van, we began speaking of how it would be done. An hour later we came to a solution and only then were we able to discuss the price. It would be $270 to make each tank. This did not account for affixing them to the van, buying additional plumbing and a pump. This was a great deal more than our budget would allow and had to pass. However we were able to manage a car stereo that plays MP3’s, and most importantly has an audio cable we can plug into our phones. This means no more headphones while driving and trying to hear an audio book over the loud engine. A definite game changer and also allows us to listen to something other than the strange and eclectic 6 CD’s Mac came with featuring the top 40 hits from around the globe.

Sidi Ifni 

Tamraght 

Van curtain update with Lynne. 

I felt that most of my time spent in Tamaraght was actually spent driving to and from Agadir, though I was happy to find a $60 inverter and finally buy a new $75 tire on day 4 during my solo trip to the city. We can now charge our computers and other items off of our secondary battery and think we will be just fine without solar panels due to our minimal usage of electronics. I had a nice time getting the constantly deflating tire replaced and was invited back for lunch from the group of guys working at the tire shop. I would come back that afternoon after looking for alternative solutions to our water supply issue for a tasty tajine and tea. It was relaxing and comforting hanging out with some guys in the dark and dirty shop. The weather half of the time in Tamaraght was quite nasty with strong winds and rain, though we did have a couple of nice days relaxing on the rooftop of Lynne’s apartment and spent our first day there at the souk in the neighboring village of Aourir (the banana city). We still can’t get enough of the outdoor souks and this particular one had a merchant selling peas stacked taller than Ratha. The vegetables are amazing at the souks and host a wide variety to choose from. We would stock up to make some Tajines with Lynne and bought a kilo of Amlou, Ratha’s new obsession. Amlou seems to come in various forms, our favorite being almonds, argon oil and honey. It’s a bit runny and oily and we have since acquired ketchup and mustard bottles for quick and clean access to satisfy a fix. All and all the first days on the coast were quite “soukcessful” if you ask me.

Peas at the souk. 

This part of the coast, especially Tagazout which is just north 5K from sleepy but growing Tamaraght is host to many young traveling surfers and the infrastructure supports this demographic with hostels, surf shops, and restaurants. As we moved further south however, we have run into many more Dutch, French and Germans who seem to be virtually everywhere. Many of them are retired and are escaping the cold weather in the EU. The busy camper season is at its beginning and we can expect to see many more campers on the road from here on out as we move into spring and towards summer.

Lynne was a great host and cook and took good care of us. Ratha was able to have a night with her and Irena drinking wine, for which we were both grateful. To date there has been very little time spent on the road with other women, so I imagine it’s like a breath of fresh air for her. Lynne was very kind in letting us stay while spending a handful of days seeking solutions for Mac and was very helpful and resourceful in connecting us to the right places and people. As Lynne’s lease on her apartment was coming to an end and she was in need of a ride south, we waited to depart and take her with us. We spent three nights in the van together as weather was not optimal for camping nor was the locale. We stopped along the coast at Aglou Plague, Mirleft and Legzira. We ran out of propane when arriving to Mirleft and replaced it with a $14 Moroccan tank which included the deposit. Our tank that had just emptied was expired in the EU and could not be refilled or exchanged there or here in Morocco. We were happy when the man charging 10 dirham to stay in the parking lot by the beach for the night offered to take the tank for a possible jerry-rigging refill from a friend or could find a place to sell it for scrap metal. We were thrilled and were not sure how we would fit it in the van otherwise. At this beach we would have a couple vans carrying groups of young hippies whose activities other than juggling, drum circling, and orb handling were unknown. A French camper van had pulled in at one point as if considering to stay and it appeared as soon as they laid their eyes on the scene, led to their swift U-turn and departure.

 

 

Legzira was just south from Mirleft and we pulled into a hotel and camping spot atop a cliff overlooking the ocean. There was a Polish man named Dominique and he drives there each year for 4 months to paraglide and do occasional tandem flights for travelers. I received good news that morning and was looking to do something to celebrate the end of a bad deal. The weather was supposed to be bad the next 3-4 days and if we were to paraglide, it would have to be right then as it was already late afternoon. It was not in the cards for us after waiting at the launch spot for a half an hour hoping the winds would die down a bit. We continued to Sidi Ifni the next day and dropped Lynne off at a cool little hotel Suerta Loca. We would endure the very strong winds the next few days and some rain that would follow. When dropping Lynne off, we caught word from a German photographer that there would be a camel market the next day which was just outside of Goulimine, a city 50K southeast from Sidi Ifni. After camping near a construction area just outside Sidi Ifni, we would plan to get up the next morning and see if we could find it. We awoke on a Sunday, the day when nearly no-one works, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, to a dump truck driving straight in to the edge of the cliff, then reversing in a half circle around the van until he neared the cliff, dumping the load off the edge and driving away. We were quite literally right in the middle of his work. Unbelievable. As I write this I am thinking this could have been the beginning of a string of misfortunes. We would drive to Goulmine and find that there was only a camel market on Saturday, it was Sunday of course, though the kind German man declared that in fact there was one on Sunday. We drove on the few roads leading away from town just to see if we may have missed it and could not find a thing. It would be later confirmed by the locals that it was in fact on Saturday. We then looked for alternatives for entertainment as we had made the drive south already. The city is an outpost of sorts and serves as a hub for those making a long drive south or east. It did have the feeling of being an outpost and we saw many garages selling gasoline out of 5 liter bottles and huge 70 liter drums. I spotted a shop that appeared to have many spare car parts and we pulled over for a quick look. The mirror I saw from the road was a perfect fit to replace the large one that had been busted back in Marbella. I have had to slouch each time I try to see out of it and the $8 for the replacement has been money well spent. While we asked the owner some other questions, he called to a young man named Solek to the tire and gas shop next door who spoke English well and was quite helpful. He invited us over to his shop to chat, which then turned into lunch. He studied linguistics and gave me a book as a parting gift that he would not let me refuse. Absolute Beginners – COLIN MACINNES. The book is well used and his notes and the oil stained pages seem to indicate his passion for language. I would later find another Moroccan man arguably more passionate and desperate for English literature and it became the perfect gift as I had no intention of reading it. We would then make the big mistake of filing our tank with 25 liters of the dirty fuel at $.55 per liter and later suffer the consequences of that decision.

 

The other option for entertainment we researched would involve seeking out hot springs in the oases in the surrounding area. By the time we found what we were looking for, we discovered that it was more or less a public pool and that the hot springs were much too low or had dried up entirely this year. We had not bathed in 5 days and thought we might just stay nearby at a campsite. When we arrived to the site after driving out of the way and down a series of tiny dirt roads, the owners were not there and we wedged Mac as best we could out of the way of the road. They would return that evening while we were cooking and inform us that it was not a camping spot but a hotel. We were grateful they let us stay in the little dirt patch we had posted up on, but we needed to be gone the next morning when they were set to receive guests.

It was back to Sidi Ifni the next afternoon and we would enjoy a shower at the campsite next to the water. We planned to go back to Legzira the next day and night in hopes of getting a chance to paraglide. We stopped by a recommended French mechanic on our way out of town as we had noticed we were leaking an abnormal amount of diesel the last couple of days. We discovered that there was a leak from our fuel injector/pump and that we needed to replace some joints which from what I understood are more or less rubber o rings. They pulled out the part and took it to Goulmine while we stayed in the parking lot/garbage heap next to his shop. It was a quick turn around as we were on the road late the next day without a leak. We went to stay at a quiet beach off of an unmarked road at a point called Sidi Wafi which was just 7K south of Mirleft. We pulled out on the sand and were feeling relaxed until the next morning when our car would not start. A guy named Said who lived in a cave nearby called a mechanic that came and got the car running eventually after using his fuel pump from his car to inject fuel into our engine. We followed the mechanic to his shop in Miraleft and 1.5 hours later, another mechanic in the city gave him his only fuel filter of its kind to use. I later discovered that the filter was not new and the rescue service that I was told he didn’t charge for and a fuel filter that should cost $10 ran us $70. We were overcharged and I believe Said made a cut. While being a foreigner in another country has it’s many advantages, this day would shed light on one of the disadvantages. So the next morning when the car would not start again, I refused his offer to have his mechanic come out. Luckily, there was both a German mechanic and another Moroccan mechanic who helped us out and found replacement hoses for us (ours were old and falling apart) in Miraleft and that would get us to Sidi Ifni. The van would die once you let off the gas pedal as the engine had not been getting fuel. The car died when we stopped at the security checkpoint approaching Sidi Ifni and we just got it to the shop when finding out the french mechanic had taken off for the weekend. Both of our batteries were nearly dead and we were barely getting the car started. We managed to roll the car into the camping spot down the hill to wait out the next couple of days before we could go back to the mechanic. In the meantime I was in search of some plumbing materials and another fuel filter as I discovered there are two on the van and that they are different. I was able to find what I was told was, “the last fuel filter of it’s kind in the city” and changed it back at the campsite. I could not believe the luck in getting the last fuel filters in two separate cities in few days, you can imagine my disbelief (insert sarcasm). Monday morning was the first time we had started Mac since I replaced the second fuel filter and we were still not getting fuel. We got stuck halfway up the hill heading to the French mechanic when a Great Britain lady named Linda came down the hill in her van with a Moroccan mechanic in the passenger seat stopped to help guide us down and have the man look the car over. It was a frantic scene of sorts while Linda and her mechanic heightened the sense of urgency. The man looked at everything and though he didn’t replace, remove or add anything, I remain mystified as to why after we got a jumpstart from the woman, the car was working well again. I had seen nothing that he did that we had not already done. My thought was maybe with the new filter installed, everything may have needed a few minutes to cycle through before it was back to normal. Instead I fired Mac up and attempted to drag him up the hill in fear we would not make it to the shop before it died (which happened). Though the mechanics’ limited Spanish and my non existent French did not provide much of a bridge for communication and understanding of what he may have done, he was able to tell me from beginning to end that there was,”no problem, no problem”. But finally after a week of not knowing whether the car will start, everything seemed to be functioning quite well again. We were skunked for the 3rd or 4th time on paragliding as the weather did not yet again permit. We missed our chances on the few days we broke down when weather was prime and one day we biked 10K to Legzira. It was time to move on and we were ready get off of that stretch of beach and head towards Tafaroute.

The road to Tafaroute provided some very nice views and we stopped atop a mountain 1.5 hours short of the city. The next morning and afternoon there was a big sandstorm that came through cutting down visibility to about 1 mile. There were many washed-out roads from the flood last year and many parts of it and its bridges were in need of repair. Tafaroute was a sleepy and slow feeling town and is home to the regional design and manufacture of a shoe/slipper called babouche. Oh yes, daddy bought himself a souvenir and expects them to last for years to come. We slept in the rocky terrain outskirts just out of reach from another motorhome filled site. I would climb one of the rocky cliffs the next day and nearly knocked myself out while trying to scale a slippery boulder and ripping lose a rock as I made an attempt to advance upward. I had an underhanded grip used to pull myself up and as I was making the last big move on the rock to secure myself from dropping 10 feet on the rocks below. The rock I was had grabbed detached from the boulder and slammed into my own head before slipping and managing to gain my foot and hand holds. Luckily I managed to hang on and walk away with just a gash and minor goose egg on my eyebrow. On our way out we would head towards M’Hamid and slipped quickly through Taliouine (known for Saffron production), Tamegroute (known for their green pottery) and Zagora. We were attempting to make it to the Nomad Festival in time as we had been told from 2 different Moroccans that it was in fact that weekend. Upon arrival we discovered it was not until the next weekend.

 

 

 

We would stay at a campsite on the edge of town called Kasbah Sahara Services. The staff was very hospitable and friendly and made the time go by quickly. The place was empty the first night and received a discounted dinner and a free nights stay. We arranged a two night trip in the Sahara desert which was also quite nice. When we arrived in M’Hamid, we shopped around town for camping spots and camel tours, this place was the most affordable, though we have discovered if you do talk to the non recommended camel tour hockers on the street, you’ll get a better deal and a similar if not the same type of tour. That being said, I do think the service (which we had been expecting none) was outstanding and from the sounds of it the best in town. Coming just before the busy season allowed us to experience the desert with just two others the first night and were able to be the only ones on one of the few large dunes overlooking Chegaga. I was entranced by the sand  and the site of it all at both sunset and sunrise. What perhaps was most enjoyable experience was overlooking the desert when there was no wind. There were no voices, no trees blowing, no birds, motors etc. – simply…utter… silence. That I have never experienced in that fashion overlooking something that vast. There is usually wind present or some other auditory sounds to fill the void of silence. Though seemingly devoid of wildlife making noise, the area we were was full of black beetles, sand lizards, some gazelle we just missed and the trekking camels. We would partake in a three hour camel ride seeking shade and a rest for a nice lunch on day two. I was most happy to have another night and morning in the sand dunes. We met a nice couple from Germany the first day out to Chegaga the first night and two fun girls from Ireland who may see again.

  
 The desert was awesome and something we wanted to do since soon after arriving in Morocco. Thank you donors for the very kind and generous gifts that made our trip and camel trek a possibility! This was huge treat to us and made our time in the desert a memorable one.

There is quite honestly not much to do in M’hamid other than spend time in the desert, unless something else brought you there that I am completely blinded to. That being said, we found ourselves having quite an interesting time the duration of the unplanned week we stayed there. The relationship we built with the staff, the set of interesting characters traveling through, and the Nomad Festival all helped pass the time. The staff invited Ratha and I to dinner brought in from Marrakech (tangia – amazingly delicious) and two nights of hanging out smoking shisha with their good friends. As the festival came nearer, the hotel filled with journalists, photographers, performers (including two nomadic women from a native Norwegian tribe), others directing the festival and even a German woman who’s Morocco by camper guidebooks are the standard for German speaking travelers. We were invited to join at an Arabic Moroccan wedding just 5K from where we stayed one day after our initial introduction. We were on our way out for a 3 hour walk around a nearby oasis when we were faced with the offer. She convinced us that she had a formal invitation and could bring a couple of people with her. 15 minutes later she had us in traditional garbs for the south and we were in her car on our way. The weddings last 3 days and this was day two, women’s day. Ratha joined the women’s only part of the casbah and I heard loud singing and drumming from a room that was jam packed with friends, family and people from the local area. As everyone is invited and RSVP’s do not exist for the occasion, it is hard to have any idea how many people will show. It is necessary for the family to prepare for a great many guests as from what I understand it would be embarrassing if they were unable to host and feed those who visited them. Expect 100, prepare for 1,000, no problem. While the women chanted and sung, I hung out in the clay walled, straw matted floored room with the men and drank tea. Men’s night was the night prior and I was lucky to find that out and have some nice conversations with the only English speaking man present who was an accountant for Atlas Studios and CLA Studios in Ouarzazate. Yahia made me feel welcome and quelled my uneasy feeling of being a, sorry… THE white man dressed in their local clothes, wearing a scarf and babouches at someone’s wedding of whom which knowledge of their existence was presented to me less than an hour ago. The father was very welcoming nonetheless and made sure the three of us had some food before we left. The two sons that were getting married had said to have never spoken with their brides to be and that they only have seen one another. Though this is changing, there was a long process explained to us about the courting process in it’s more modern and longer traditional forms.

Ready for our first Arabic/Berber wedding. 

The Nomad Festival was in its 13th year of celebration and though interesting, I would not recommend going out of the way to see it. The nightly music ranged from Berber, Arabic, nomadic tribal from various countries, Spain, France and a popular group from Algeria. There were a number of activities including camel racing, tent building, nomadic hockey, and a bread baking contest. The camel racing was less a race as the camels shot off in all directions and did not have a real starting or finishing line. The bread making contest seemed not to exist despite our attempts to find it and the organization of the festival was largely not there. I imagine this style of organization, or the lack there of is just a cultural difference from what we have gathered. The festival brought the whole town and many others from the string of cities along the northern corridor from M’hamid. Sadly, all those who corralled around the stage gates were males and the women, all the women were sitting on the ground across the street in observance of the performers and the many young men who danced, fought amongst one another and mingled with foreign women. I felt bad for all the women as they could not partake really in all of that, but just in seemingly quiet/silent observation amongst themselves. Though interesting, the music would not pull us back for the third night. The cook gave us free food for dinner in our tupperware which was an amazing tuna infused sauce over noodles of which he did not skimp on portions. The owner would let us leave on Monday after nearly refusing to let us leave on Sunday and gave us a discount for our long stay costing $5 a night.

 

  

 Kasbah Sahara Services felt like family, making it very hard to leave. 

We would hit the road after quickly visiting the weekly souk and were bound for Ourrzazate, a famous city known for their moving production. Yahia works at the studios and would take us on a free tour of them a couple of days later. We met an incredibly friendly and generous man named Serge at the campsite in the city. He and his frenchie, Sanka, are big time carp fisherman and they were in an LT 35. Also quite strange is that he was using the same Yoda keychain Ratha had gotten me for Christmas. The guy lent me his tools, found hardware from his stash and further secured our engine cover on, gave us fuses and invited us out to the lake to join him fishing. We spent a day out by the lake with his intense fishing gear and were hit with some strong spouts of rain which led to our eventual return to the city. We didn’t want to wake up stuck in the mud we parked on the next morning. The studios and sets were quite cool to see and one of the days and nights in Ait Benhhadou was beautiful. They have shot various parts from the Game of Thrones series in these locations and as we have recently been watching the series again, we felt even closer to the 7 kingdoms. We met a nice family from Munich who offered their parking lot and hot showers if we are to visit for Octoberfest. We slept in front of a man’s souvenir shop upon invitation and after finishing our dinner, whom joined us at the van the next morning for coffee.

 

 

 

Ait Benhaddou – Gladiator and Game of Thrones backdrops.  
Dades Gorge

 

I’ll sum up the last event filled week in short:  It would be time to head to visit the Dades gorge and on to the Todra gorge for some long awaited rock climbing. Both places beautiful, the Todra more so and more epic. We offered a ride to some German climbers returning to the village in the dark and joined them for tea and climbing the next day. We spent 5 days free camping, climbing, getting lost in the nomadic mountains for 6 hours and seeking out a lake in the next village which turned out was 100K farther north than we had been told. We met nomadic Berbers in both locations and had exchanges and communication only possible by body language and throwing our hands about. We played music, sang and had tea with a blind man selling souvenirs, whom we would trade our old car CD player and 44 dirham for one of his tea pots, celebrated 2 years of togetherness with a bottle of wine we’d been carrying for 10 weeks around the country and ran into a young couple for the 4th time since meeting them in Ouzoud. The climbing was great and Ratha led her first climb and I was happy to successfully lead some challenging climbs myself. The stars were bright, the mountainous backdrop resembling something from a storybook and the exercise refreshing. We very much enjoyed our week in the gorge and are now headed north for our last couple of weeks in Morocco.