After an action packed day yesterday culminating in a brilliant visit to the Atlas Film Studios we’re back on the road again. Today, we’re headed back into the desert and will be driving through the Draa Valley, an oasis lined valley with Berber villages and ruined kasbahs and waving goodbye to the snow-capped Atlas mountains. We stop to stretch our legs at one of the oasis viewpoints and it’s an opportunity to grab a photo with our brilliant guide Omar.
We stop for lunch in Zagora and have a fabulously tasty pizza. We’re in watermelon country and it’s harvest time. We pass numerous trucks and lorries absolutely stuffed to the gunnels with the sweet basketball size fruit bound for Marrakech, Casablanca and beyond. After lunch the cafe where we stop brings over platefuls of delicious sweet juicy wedges. It takes all of our willpower not to gorge on the delicious fruit and Omar regales us with stories of previous groups where those who’ve over-indulged have ended up in hospital with terrible stomach pains, we have been warned and besides he advises us he doesn’t need the paperwork!!
For centuries, a procession of camels was the only means of transport from Marrakech, through the Sahara Desert, and on until they finally reached Timbuktu in Mali. Zagora was a popular stop along this desert route known as the “Salt Trail” and from here the journey time is 52 days. This journey is commentated by the signs at the end of town and we stop to photograph it as we leave.
Our next stop is Tamgroute, reknowned for its ancient traditional pottery. Tamgroute in Amazigh (Berber) means the last place visited which refers to its geographical location as the last inhabitated town on the edge of the desert, therefore making it an important strategic place to stop off prior to taking on the mighty Sahara desert. The pottery is reknowned for its distinctive green glaze and we visit a co-operative where we witness artisans working in a traditional manner applying age-old techniques that would’ve have most certainly been passed down from generation to generation. It’s serious hard labour in hot, dusty and quite rudimentary conditions. The work is bright and colourful but sadly nothing catches our eye.
Our final stop is Mhamid to stock up with water and to swap our bus for 4WD jeeps. We load up our overnight bags and strap in for a 3 hour off-road drive across the Sahara. We’re headed for the dunes of Erg Chegaga close to the Algerian border for another desert camp, The terrain is low dunes and scruffy trees at regular intervals. It’s a hot and harsh inhospitable environment with nothing to see but sand and desert scree. Every now and again we pass a nomad on a camel or a goat herder and I don’t know about the other two drivers but ours certainly acknowledges them with a friendly greeting. After about an hour of bouncing around in the 4WD, we stop at a makeshift tent which has two women and two children in it. The tent is a makeshift souvenir stall with handmade items for sale to tourists travelling to and from their desert camps. One of our drivers delivers some bottles of cooking oil gratefully received by the nomads. This is the tough reality of day to day existence in the desert, with the women supplementing the family’s income of goats, camels and working at a desert camp by selling souvenirs. I buy a small camel but it feels paltry and Brownie gives the children some sweets following the example of a couple of our group who are doing the same. It’s a drop in the ocean but at least we’ve contributed something. We feel even more uncomfortable when we realise that the tent is constructed of blankets, denim and t-shirts with solar panels dotted about to provide a source of power. We leave humbled.
We rejoin the 4WD and continue through the desert to our our camp for the night in Erg Chegaga a beautiful stretch of golden sand sea. It’s the largest sand sea in Morocco, snaking along the horizon for approximately 30 miles and bordered to the north and south by high mountain ridges. Tonight we’re staying in a traditional nomad camp with tents that are shall we say nowhere near as luxurious as our previous desert experience. Oh and there’s a shared bathroom – 2 sinks, 2 toilets and 2 showers – with the 14 other people who we’re sharing the camp with.
We climb the nearest dune and it’s an awesome site to gaze out at miles upon miles of delicate waves of sand as far as the eye can see. The sand is like cashmere and a joy to walk on in bare feet. The sun sets at 8pm and we make our way down having watched the roundy thing descend from our lofty perch.
The camp staff have laid up tables outside for us and we enjoy a good dinner aided by copious amounts of Saharan red. After dinner we move to the camp fire and listen to Berber music and singing. We dance like nomads and join in on the drums towards the end. I have a vague recollection of trying to play we will rock you, oh dear far too much wine. It’s a great way to end another fantastic day. I advise Brownie that I won’t be waking early for sunrise as quite frankly I’ve drunk far too much and need my sleep.
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