African Adventure Part 3: Zagora/Algeria camp to Tiznit

Hello again curious Mudpuddlers. Its been two days since I last updated the story of my journey, so that means its hypothetical pen to paper day! Hurrah! When we left off, the 2CVs and Motorbikes had arrived at dusk at Algeria camp on the Morocco/Algeria border. I am pleased to report all vehicles made it with the exception of (from memory) Herman and Rita who went off on a wild goose chase and after dark were still not even at the start of the desert road. Thankfully they didn't attempt the impossible and cross the desert sands in the dark.

The next morning we took the remainder of the Merzouga - Zagora road which is of a much harder and compacted sand than the first part, and hence we were able to zoom along at speed which was a lot of fun. One curious thing is that at the end of this famous route, tarmac is being laid. I am not sure I really liked to see that. The Sahara is one of the great wildernesses, a legend in its own right. I just can't equate that with the ultimate human stamp of a whacking great tarmac road ploughing through. I like my wilderness like I like my women. Dangerous and in their natural state.

Anyway, having reached Zagora we took to the roads through the Atlas mountains again for some winding about. As a change from the staple bread and tinned goods lunch we stopped and had a tagine. A very spicy and tasty tagine. Not only that, but we were treated to a tour of the kitchen by the immensely proud patron of the establishment. Why tell us what is in the tagine when he can take us on a tour of the kitchen and show us what's cooking! Whilst I mysteriously had a dose of Moroccan belly the next morning, I really enjoyed my lunch which was (for want of a better description) very rounded in spice and flavour. It was also filthy cheap. Kerching.

Our destination was Ait Ben Hadou, a well known Moroccan destination. It was once a regional centre but now is a very pleasant tourist centre high up in the Atlas mountains (the village is higher than the summit of Ben Nevis for reference) and the snow capped peaks of the High Atlas mountains were visible here. It is also the location for many film studios and sets. Lawrence of Arabia for one. It was the first hotel of the journey which was a welcome distraction. Rather than the organisation providing dinner, we were treated to the hotel's cuisine. Tagine again, and a cous cous dish. Both very acceptable and washed down with a generous dose of Jupiler beer. Whilst I took the opportunity to recharge my electrical equipment, the real benefit of the hotel was protection against a cold night. Frost was still visible in the morning, and snow had fallen on the high mountains. We were also reunited with the Vespas at the hotel.

The next day was ostensibly a short one, although the route of 180km was mainly a winding one through the mountains. The descent from the highest point was lengthy and took its toll on the brakes. In fact, before the road was laid with tarmac, it was known as the most dangerous road in Morocco with fatal accidents on an almost daily basis. I can see why, it really was a wandering, winding and steep descent. However, it was well worth it as around late lunchtime we arrived at our destination, Marrakech!

The organisation served lunch rather than dinner at our campsite and after some fairly fruitless 'washing the sand out' of my clothes, we took a taxi into Marrakech to spend the late afternoon and evening there. I say we took a taxi, I should define we. 6 of us and the taxi driver. Thats four grown men in the back, and Kell and Mal both on the passenger seat. Nice. Cheap. Cosy. Once in Marrakech, we took a look round the Souks. I was on mission man bag. Time for me to put aside my masculinity and invest in a decent man bag for the portering of my electrical goodies you understand. I found the very satchel I was looking for deep in the souks, and having scoffed at the opening request for 700 Dirham (70 Euro or so), managed to beat him down to just under 300. There was plenty to see and admire and barter over and I would recommend a visit to anyone in the area at any time. Just remember to barter!! Afterwards we went to take dinner in the grand square. How to describe it? 40 identical restaurants with the same menu at the same price (with one or two personalisations on each one) all chasing you to take dinner with them. One very perceptive restauranteur noted my resemblance to Bruce Willis and used it as a hook to get me in, although in the end we plumped for one that Rick Stein had reportedly eaten at. Lamb chops and fries. Very tasty lamb chops at that.

After dinner, Kell, Mal and Erik returned to the campsite, and I went with Fitz and Stan to a hotel they had frequented before where we tucked in to some Moroccan beer called flag. Flag is rather tasty actually, but it needed several to make that judgement. We had a couple more back at camp before I retired to the comfort of the tent. Marrakech is fun, a definite highlight of the trip.

Of course the stay there was only for the half day and the next morning we were off on the road again. This was the last day of much mountain activity, and we again soared up to 8000 feet plus, and the views were nothing short of magnificent. I'll pop some pictures at the end of this entry so you can see for yourself. It was an interesting day in that I took a ride in a different vehicle for a change. I partnered up with Edwin who drives a green mehari. Again, a picture will follow the text. Edwin is a one off, and we had a very enjoyable day taking the mick out of the motorbikers. At the highest point of the journey we paused (we were in a group of six cars today, the usual three, Edwin's mehari the gifkikker or poisoned frog, Jean and Robby and the Rasta dudes Robin and Jari) and Edwin lost his glasses down a near vertical drop. No problem for him as he attached a rope to his waist and got us to lower him down to retrieve them. Never a dull moment!

We ended up at a bivouac camp called the Tree Camp - in the middle of some trees surprisingly enough after a ride through a maze of cactus plants. One of those nights were nothing was left to the imagination when taking one's relief!

And there I leave it for now. Next time I'll tell you all about Oysters, driving in Western Sahara and the unmitigated joy of border crossing into Mauritania. A bientot!

The mehari is the green vehicle in the last picture, Robby and Jean drive the blue and white and the rasta duck is the three coloured car.

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