Before my visit, Morocco, to me, was synonymous with the words "camels" and "desert," so Bridget and I made it a point to see both during our short adventure in Northern Africa. A little research quickly showed that Marrakech is nowhere near any deserts, though, so we decided to go all-out and book a two-day tour across Morocco, with the added bonuses of voyaging over the Atlas Mountains and seeing Ait Benhaddou, a UNESCO World Heritage Site where many movies have been filmed.
Tuesday morning dawned bright and chilly, and by 7:30 am, Bridget and I had packed, ate the spongy pancakes with apricot preserve that the hostel gave us for breakfast, and were waiting in the lobby for Mohammed to pick us up. When he arrived, he led us once more through the maze of souks to the car, and we were off! We actually were never formally introduced to our driver (Mohammed was just the organizer/greeter of the company Marrakech Expeditions) but I'm pretty sure his name was Ibrahim, and he was great. He only spoke French and Arabic along with about 7 words in English, so he was really happy to learn that Bridget and I spoke French as well, since it would have been a really quiet two days otherwise. Ibrahim was happy to answer all of our questions about Morocco, and it turns out he has been a driver for these tours for more than 30 years!
Once outside of Marrakech, we headed straight for the Atlas Mountains, weaving up them until we reached our first stop at a little cafe for some tea and a view. It honestly amazed me how green the low Atlas Mountains (also sometimes called the Anti-Atlas Mountains) were. It was absolutely beautiful! And if you look closely, you can spot one of the Berber towns on the right half of the photo. Side note: Bridget and I were extremely excited to find Oreo's at the cafe, and we each bought a roll of cookies for the journey. It's amazing, all the silly things that you miss while abroad!
After another hour of winding mountain roads, we stopped again at a higher altitude. Many of the peaks were snow-capped which was amazing to see. Honestly, I think I saw more snow in Morocco than I've seen in France this winter!
We stopped once more in the Atlas Mountains at our highest altitude -- somewhere shy of 3,300 meters. I think Ibrahim told us that we were in or at least near the High Atlas Mountains at that point. We were following the same route and stopping at the same scenic viewpoints as many of the other two-day tour groups, so we even encountered vendors in the High Atlas Mountains! One of my favorite photos is the one showing all the colorful wares for sale spread out on the rock wall at the edge of the mountain. Also, it should be said that "winding" doesn't even begin to aptly describe how the road zig-zagged throughout the two days. Can you see how it twists and turns below? And that wasn't even close to the most serpentine sections of the mountains!
Following the third photo-op in the mountains, we started weaving our way back down and up, down and up the rest of the lower Atlas for a long time. Bridget and I spent a lot of time in the car during the two-day tour, but honestly, neither of us minded. Our time was spent conversing with Ibrahim, listening to soothing Arabic/French music, and watching the beautiful countryside roll by. We passed innumerable Berber villages and Kabashes (old Arabic castle-towns) perched along the mountains, and the geography of Morocco is simply stunning; like nothing I've ever seen before.
Our next halt was at a little roadside store where local women make Argan oil. For those of you who were unaware, Argan trees are endemic to Morocco, and the oil extracted from the seeds is used for medical, nutritive, and cosmetic purposes. The women demonstrated how they extracted the oil from the seeds, and Bridget and I were able to test many of the products (hand creams, lip balms, skin and hair oils) as well as taste Argan oil drizzled on pita bread. I really liked this little informative break, and my skin was so soft afterwards!
Another hour or two later driving through much flatter, deserted countryside, we arrived at one of the sights that I had really wanted to see while in Morocco: Ait Benhaddou. It is an ancient and beautiful Ksar (fortified city), framed by palm trees and snow-capped mountains. Ait Benhaddou has also been one of the filming locations for several movies; most famously The Mummy (1999), Gladiator (2000), Kingdom of Heaven (2005), and Babel (2006) ... basically all films revolving around the desert. Our guide told us that in the next few weeks, parts of the TV series Game of Thrones is going to be filmed there as well, which made me squeal a little--the show is awesome!
We ate lunch in a restaurant right outside of Ait Benhaddou: delicious couscous with chicken and steamed vegetables, followed by clementines for dessert). Then, we had a short guided tour through the ksar. Apparently 8 families still live in the ancient kasbahs, although the rainstorms damage the buildings so most of the locals have moved across the river to a newer town. Our guide took us through one of the homes that is still in use and gave us a bit of history, but I wish we had a bit more time to freely explore the ksar. One major advantage, though, was that the guide wouldn't let any of the vendors pester us to buy things--with a few words in Arabic, he told them to lay off, and they did, which surprised me since the vendors in the Marrakech souks are instantly standing next to you offering good prices when you so much as glance at an item.
After Ait Benhaddou, Ibrahim drove us back through the empty desert land, back up into the lower mountains, and past absolutely fantastic geographical landscapes. At one point, we were winding around a canyon and he pointed out the "heart" in one of the rocky hillsides opposite. Ibrahim saw that I was taking so many pictures out the car window that he stopped at the next cliff so we could take some better photos.
The serpentine road led us back down and through the Valley of Draa, where we stayed for a good hour at least, driving by 200 km of palm trees with a mountainous backdrop. All I saw was palm trees, palm trees, palm trees, a kasbah, palm trees... it was almost hypnotizing. The reason for all the greenery was because they valley is fed by the Draa river, which is the longest river in Morocco. While driving through the valley, Ibrahim told us that we were close to Algeria, and at one point, that we were less than 100 km away from the Morocco-Algeria border.
Finally, the endless sea of palm trees was behind us, and we were bound for the Zagora desert! We made a quick stop to pick up water bottles in a little town (as there is no water in the desert, obviously) and then drove to the beginning of the desert. Mohammed, our young Berber guide for the night, was waiting with our two camels; Ibrahim left and promised to be back in the morning to pick us up.
And so the camel riding began!
I was the first to mount my camel (whose name was Kof-Kof), and was nearly thrown off. If you've never seen a camel rise up, it is a jerky and awkward process. First, the camel raises its hind legs while its front legs remain kneeling on the ground (jolting the rider forwards), then raises the front legs to even itself out (jolting the off-balance rider backwards a little). Bridget quickly followed on her camel (Solomon), then Mohammed took the reins and started leading us into the Zagora Desert, just as the sun was beginning to set. I, of course, took lots and lots of pictures, so prepare for the onslaught, although I'll try to narrow it down to the best ones.
I will say that the Zagora Desert is not the sandiest desert, so there were no giant orange sand dunes like those found in the Sahara. It's actually quite rocky, although it has its moments of picturesque sand, especially as we journeyed farther in. Both Bridget and I knew from the beginning not to expect the Sahara desert, though, so we were not disappointed.
And I will also say this: my grandmother was absolutely correct. Camels are not comfortable creatures to ride, even with thick Berber rugs as saddles. It was an hour's ride to our desert camp, and let's say that I wasn't exactly unhappy to leave Kof-Kof when we finally arrived. It's definitely an experience! Unlike the other rumors I heard, though, camels are not really smelly.
When we arrived to our desert camp, we met a group of 6 other American students who were studying abroad in France and their two French friends. As the sky grew darker, the ten of us--along with our three Berber guides--chatted and drank strong Moroccan mint-green tea on the expanse of rugs set up in the middle of the circle of tents. Gradually, three other groups arrived from their camel treks: a Spanish family, a French family, and three British 20-year-olds on holiday. Once we were all together, the guides went off to prepare dinner.
We were called into the big dinner tent to eat. Bridget and I started off with a soup, followed by tagine--chicken with roasted carrots, potatoes, zucchini, and olives--and clementines to finish.
Next up was our after-dinner entertainment. The six Berber guides made a bonfire and everyone gathered around it to hear them play the drums and sing. After a few songs, one of the youngest guides abandoned his drumming to pull people up and dance with them. Eventually, I found myself dancing to the beat around the bonfire with eight or nine others, feeling awkward but at the same time having a lot of fun.
We all sat back down and the guides started passing out the drums for us to practice on. Mohammed wandered over to Bridget, Thérèse (one of the French girls), one of the British guys, and I with drums and we had our own lesson in traditional Moroccan beats. Sadly, the only thing I learned is that I have absolutely no rhythm. By the end, I could only successfully perform the two simplest patterns that Bridget broke down for me step-by-step. The British guy picked up all the rhythms really fast, though, and Thérèse was an excellent singer, so the five of us went on playing for a while.
One other thing to mention: the STARS. There were no lights for miles so I could see thousands and thousands of stars, and it was incredible. I wasn't the only person staring up at the sky, either. Andrew, one of the American study-abroaders, was very passionate about the stars and he kept pointing out to us how the constellations were in different positions and how we were seeing stars that he had never seen before. I would've slept under the stars Tuesday night if it hadn't been so cold. It was just breathtaking to behold. Also, the expression "black as night" doesn't really hold as much value until you spend a night in the desert or somewhere similarly as far from the rest of humanity. When I wasn't looking at the stars, I could see almost nothing.
Bridget and I had our own tent, and we slept on mattresses with thick rug-like blankets. Even so, around 4 o'clock in the morning, I woke up shivering. At midnight, the cold had been bearable, but at 4 a.m., it was absolutely freezing! Bridget and I woke up extremely early to see the sunrise, and it was still so cold, but it was worth it. One of the best parts of the desert night was the beautiful desert sunrise.
Mohammed and the other guides woke everyone else up with calls for breakfast. They had tea, coffee and milk, along with bread and jam. Stupidly, I thought to myself "Yes! COW'S MILK! I haven't had milk in a while," and I filled up a glass. Bridget did the same. But then we realized that the milk was hot (weird...) and when we tasted it, it had a really strange flavor. Mohammed walked up to us and said, "You know that's camel's milk, right? It's fresh; we just milked them this morning." The looks on our faces must have been priceless. I have no idea why I assumed there would be cold cow's milk in the middle of the Zagora desert, but I had and Bridget and I were forced to drink the warm, fresh camel's milk. ....All part of the experience, I suppose.
We left the camp and did one more hour ride back to the edge of the desert on the camels, then said goodbye to Mohammed and rejoined Ibrahim in the car for a long way back to Marrakech, punctuated by a few more interesting sights. Here are a few last on-the-camel pictures:
Our first stop on Wednesday was at a huge museum-like store with artifacts from all over Morocco and other parts of North Africa. They showed us around and gave us more of that really strong Moroccan mint tea (I didn't really like it, but apparently it's quite good for the body). Then they showed us the room full of rugs and explained what the different varieties were; for example, some were for nomads to use in the desert, and others were for dowries... Bridget had told me in the car right before the store, though, that her cousin had been to Morocco and had been talked into buying a rug, so I was expecting it when the man started trying to sell us a rug. I told him that we didn't have a home to put it--that we were always moving around (truthfully, between home and college), and he exclaimed, "I didn't know some Americans were still nomads!" He still tried to sell us a rug ("They roll up small! Good price!") but after five minutes of polite refusal, he gave up. It was still a really cool place to see, even though it was a tourist trap.
We drove a long way back through the Valley of Draa (so many palm trees...), stopping a few more times to stretch our legs and take pictures of the stunning landscapes. Ibrahim bought dates from a road-side vendor and let Bridget and I try a few as well. Our next major break was at the Film Studios in the middle of the desert of Ouarzazate, sometimes called "The Hollywood of Morocco." We couldn't go too far inside the studios, but it was cool to walk around in. There were huge Egyptian statues outside the studio, which made for some fun pictures of Bridget and I mimicking the poses, but unfortunately they are on Bridget's camera.
The studio was the last main sight of the tour. We wound our way up into the Atlas and stopped for lunch surrounded once more by snow-capped mountains, which was lovely. Then we slowly wound our way back down and ended up in the middle of crazy Marrakech right before our last Moroccan sunset. I'm so happy that we did the two-day tour because we got to experience Morocco in a way that we couldn't have done in Marrakech. I know this was an absurdly long post, and thank you to those who read it all. I'll write the final Morocco installment soon, but to finish, I'd like to ramble a little about colors.
I think I will remember the colors of Morocco the most, especially after the the two days driving through it. This country isn't just orange and tan and brown, but full of dusty purple and gray mountains, the spring-green of the budding trees, the darker green of weather-worn palm trees and shrubs, the blue blue cloudless skies, the deep blue-black of a starry night, the white-pink ash of the flowering bushes we drove past and the peachy pink-orange-yellow-red and every in-between color of the clay houses. And the desert itself was full of all types of indescribable colors that softened at dusk and sharpened as the sun rose. It was beautiful in such a staggering raw sense, and I'm so glad to have all the colors of the desert imprinted on my mind.
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