Save for the Korean honeymooners and Cho (another Korean via England where he is studying English), our tour bus to the desert was a pretty much all commonwealth (English and Canucks). Up at the crack of dawn (my favourite), we hired cart-man (a guy with a makeshift wheelbarrow) to walk our luggage through the eerily quiet Marrakech Medina (kind of an after New Year’s Eve downtown vibe). Sahara Expeditions provided a driver who we later realized was simply that – a driver (not a guide). We made several stops en route with orders each time as to how long our allotted stop would be (and sometimes the actual name of the place – never the significance). A combination of highways signage, travel books and random group knowledge filled in the blanks – while I practiced my French with as many supplementary questions as would be tolerated. While this may seem less than ideal, it ultimately cemented a quicker bond among the group.
Climbing 3000M through the High Atlas Mountains, we arrived at Ait Benhaddou, a spectacularly well preserved ancient Kasbah, seemingly drawn from the desert landscape. It is easy to see why the area has been a Hollywood mainstay as a backdrop for such films as Lawrence of Arabia and Gladiator. There is even a major-ish film studio in nearby Ouarzazate.
From there the landscape swapped between canyon lands, lunar-like rocky desert and fertile high altitude valleys where lush green stands of date palms offered a stark contrast against the terra cotta backdrop.
The hotel we stayed at that evening was surrounded on all sides by cliff face but it was too dark to explore – so we played a dizzying array of competitive card games (cheat, snap and something the English called “shithead”). It was interesting to see the national instincts emerge via table trash talk - after all, no one wants be the loser at “shithead”).
The next day included a (“guided”) tour of a Palmeraie in the Draa Valley (one of the aforementioned fertile farming valleys) and a local carpet maker, complete with craft demos and mint tea (and the obligatory “hard sell” ending).
We reached the edge of the Sahara just before dusk and quickly organized a day pack (as we only then were informed that our accommodations were 1.5 hours – by camel - into the desert at a Berber tent camp). Despite the surprise, this really was a highlight as our camel caravan disappeared among the shifting sands of the rising dunes and we arrived at our camp just in time for the moon rise (an appropriate crescent reflecting the faith of our host country). Most of the group succumbed to the peer pressure and immediately climbed the adjacent dune before returning out of breath but ready for the traditional Berber drumming and song that preceded dinner.
The festive portion of the evening ended by the campfire with more Berber songs and even a few good Berber jokes, before bedding down under a star studded sky (with no ambient light it actually seemed to be overflowing with constellations).
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| Hand over all your camels - Berber Dave |
Another pre-6am start in order to hit the sunrise on our return camel trek, before we chowed down a quick breakfast and (along with Cho) parted ways with the group (they had a nine hour trip slated for the return to Marrakech and we had a similar distance via multiple busses in order to reach 1400 year old medieval Fez.
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