Morocco 2015 – Part 2
Tuesday October 6th
Today we are crossing the Middle Atlas. Ludwig, who, as I mentioned, is in Morocco the sixth time, leads us without a GPS. Mostly we are far from mass tourist routes and drive on smaller roads and paths.
Like all countries on this earth, Morocco has a fantastical landscape. The Rif Mountains, the Middle Atlas and the High Atlas Mountains, with roads disappearing on the horizon on the wide plateaus, the oasis towns near the Sahara, with its lakes of palms, as well as the cedar forests near Khenifra, consisting of trees, so high that they fondle the clouds.
That same morning, we were stopped by the police at a checkpoint. They do their job in Morocco too and check vehicles. As a foreign motorcyclist you usually don’t get stopped by police, in contrary you get waved through. Even if you cross the solid line in a residential area, moving faster than the allowed speed. At intersections with more traffic they sometimes stopped the oncoming traffic.
Not so in this situation. We can see the Jeep from a far distance. It was standing on the side on the road in the blazing sun, no shadow even close. An older officer does his duty with a younger one. Politely we are asked to take of our helmets. A short conversation: Where are you from? Where do you go? For our security, our personal data must be recorded – if we fall victim to a crime. Individually, one after another, we walk with the older one to the jeep to record our personal data and the data of our motorcycles. For each of us, he calls someone. Maybe, to check the passport number – but that’s just guessing. Meanwhile, we have a chitchat and cigarettes with the younger one.
In the afternoon we stop in Missour, where we have some food and then continue to our camp place. It is a former French fort, which is only a ruin and which lies about 15 km from Missour.
While Martin and Ludwig take an “official” gravel road, Andi and I try the “old” route, which is not sure if it still exists. There are many trails, but you never can be sure if they exist after a year. Old ones might be gone, new ones might exist. We stumble through the area. The land is mostly flat and we can see several stone buildings in the near distance, but we can’t exactly figure out where we have to go and it’s not like you can go straight from A to B. Sometimes, a trench or a dried up river bed is blocking the way or crossings are washed away. You need to find a spot where a crossing is possible. We work against the sunset and can orientate only on the coordinates of our gps devices. I have to commit, navigating through open terrain is much more difficult than I thought, even if your goal is only two or three kilometers away. I would really like to avoid stumbling around here in the dark.
Finally, we can see a person on one of the buildings. We are pretty sure it’s Ludwig and then Martin lit the light of his motorcycle. After a last dry river crossing we reach the fort and were still able to enjoy a magnificent sunset.
Wednesday October 7th
Today was the first big day off-road. In the morning we spend the first couple of hours to find back to a main road from the French Fort. After that we mostly moved south on gravel roads.
We drove over Col de Belcassem, a mountain pass, where once, according to Ludwig, the Paris-Dakar led over. It was the first time that we needed to help each other on a stony passage. Andi fell the second time with his motorcycle, the first time was in a roundabout on the second day. However, it was not his and not our last time on this journey. With his large and heavy machine he had a hard workout sometimes.
After longer and strenuous gravel roads we stop in the small settlements and villages to have a drink or buy biscuits in one of the grocery shops. I have no idea how many foreigners pass by in those villages far away from bigger cities, but it seems to me, as if we are strange phenomena for the inhabitants. When standing outside and eating our biscuits or having our drinks, the children and adolescents watch every move. Almost as if we were aliens, who change their skin color to blue or growing a third arm.
The children are always curious. The girls are always well-behaved, but the boys can get pretty cheeky sometimes. On the countryside, many children run around unattended, 4, 5, 6-year-old boys and girls. Often it is the only 2 to 3 years older siblings who take over the supervision. They turn around when they hear us coming. Very often they want to be spilled and stretch out their hands. At high speed, this is of course not possible, because you would rip of the children hands. But they want it so badly, that with each biker, who does touch their hands, they walk, step by step, a little bit more into the middle of the road. For the last biker it is a really dangerous situation, because there is very little space left to pass.
It is the third day without shower. The hot weather and the lack of wind during slow off-road passages brings us olfactory to a level with the sheep.
Also some material does not seem to be intended for the hot weather and high stress. The adhesive of the soles of my boots dissolves. But a Duct tape is a part on each of my motorcycle trips, and “Duct tape fixes everything”. I wrap my boots with the tape and we can move on.
Sometimes we stop for small snacks in the form of Kefta (minced meatballs) – a typical dish of the country. You can also call it fast food, because it is prepared fast in the small barbecue restaurants, which are often found on the roadside.
For the preparation of main dishes, the Tajine is used. It is a round, conical pressure cooker molded from clay. All of kinds of meat (beef, chicken, sheep) and all kinds of vegetable dishes, is cooked in it. I won’t go deeper into the Moroccan cuisine. We ate everything that was put on the table in a Tajine. Sometimes we did not know exactly know what animal it was, it nevertheless tasted good.
Many cars are driving around with Spanish and French license plates. Most of the cars have been registered in these countries and were then brought to Morocco. It’s a way to save money. People don’t pay insurance in Morocco and as well not in Spain and France. And it’s pretty hard to prosecute the people here in Morocco.
Today’s bivouac: Hotel Panorama in Merzouga, on the edge of the Sahara, not very far from the Algerian border.
Thursday October 8th
We have a rest day in Merzouga. Today I make two mistakes that are unworthy of a world traveler.
The morning is largely spent dozing in the hotel. The “Hotel Panorama” is located on the highest hill in the otherwise very flat area. Therefore, at night it is also a landmark for orientation.
Mistake 1: After breakfast, I walk down the hill from the Hotel to take some pictures.
Immediately, a young man approaches on a moped. We make some small talk in German. Those street vendors speak, without any exception, the necessary vocabulary in different languages .. perfectly. Then he asks me, if he can show me souvenirs. “Fossils” are a big hit here. Maybe tourists love this kind of souvenir. There are also many fossil museums and fossil shops in the area.
I think to myself, “Well, I really don’t want to write postcards, but I need to bring at least a few things for the close family members. I can do that know.“
The nice man spreads his stuff on the ground. I choose 2 pieces. He adds another two and requests a price.
My counter offer is only 20% less than his required amount. 50% less would have been more appropriate. Finally, I admit to pay only 10% less. Negotiating has never been one of my strengths. But good for the seller. He spent the rest of the day on the couch, because he already did his day quota with me in the morning.
Mistake 2 happened later that day. Andi and I went into the city center of Merzouga in the early afternoon. I was looking for a cobbler to repair my boots, Andi was looking for a mechanic to repair a small thing at the main stand of his motorcycle.
We were much too early, the streets were still empty. In Spanish-speaking countries, one would say it is “Siesta” – but I have absolutely no idea how this is called in Arabic.
Nevertheless, we again were approached by one of the vendors on a moped. He, too, spoke perfect German. Are you hungry? No, we are not, not even later, we have already reserved a table. We could not get rid of him. I point at my boots, which are strapped on the back of the bike. We don’t need food, we need a cobbler. He tells us to follow him and we drive slowly through the streets.
He stops at a house and knocks on the door, but no one is opening. He has an idea. We go to a mechanic! They have adhesive and can also repair my boots.
Said and done. We drive to the mechanic where they used super glue and sand of Merzouga to fix my boots, Andi gets a piece of rubber glued to its main stand, that the chain no longer would chafe.
You wonder where our mistake was? We did not negotiate the price before they started to work. Compared to average costs for living in Morocco, for a work of 1 ½ hours and deducting the costs for material, a person could live for about two days with what we paid.
Martin, Ludwig and I ride to a nearby dry lake in the evening. Andi is driving to a gas station to fill up and wanted to join us at the lake. Martin, Ludwig and I wait quite a while at the lake. But Andi is not coming. I rouse a wild camel which lies on the ground close to us, then we drive towards the dunes.
By the way, camels: In the evening camel caravans walk into the dunes. However, they are not loaded with selected spices and other goods, but with tourists. In the morning they come back again. Good camels, that are willing to learn and behave, cost up to 2,500 Euros. The other ones, who spit and kick, are going into the meat grinder.
While Martin and I have fun driving in the sand, Ludwig is chatting with another fossil-souvenir seller.
The sunset has already started when a sandstorm approached. The orange light of the setting sun and the sandstorm put the surroundings into a bizarrely beautiful spectacle.
And Andi? After about 2 ½ hours we were back at the hotel and Andi was not there. Martin and I decided to go to the gas station, while Ludwig stayed in the hotel. We found Andi at the gas station. On the way to the lake, he got a flat front tire. His mobile phone was in the hotel room, so he could not call us, had to dismantle the front tire, walk two to three kilometers to the gas station fix the tire there and walk back again. He was a little bit pissed.
Friday October 9th
In the morning we drove around the sand dunes of Erg Chebbi. At a few passages we struggled through the deep sand, which is quite a physical effort. It is recommended to keep a certain distance to the vehicle in front of you, as the slipping wheels throw high fountains of sand.
The western side of the Erg Chebbi is well developed for tourism. On the eastern back-side there is largely a stony plain. Nevertheless, people live there. But more and more families leave the area and move to the other side.
One can not hide here. From afar you can see us coming. Women and children get out of their simple buildings and offer jewelry and scarves as we rush by.
Roads are rare on the back of the Erg Chebbi, who needs them? “Roads? Where we’re going, we don’t need … roads!” (Back to the Future Part II). As the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, we sometimes go cross-country.
Near Alnif we stay on the “Mars”. A shallow karst area with dried plants and low bushes, just a few kms outside the town.
The guys scare me because of scorpions. I am torn between laziness and self-preservation. In last years journey Ludwig woke up and a scorpion has erected the sting not far from his face. Ludwig solved the problem – Wham! – with his shoe. For me, the laziness triumphs over fear. I did not put up the tent, but I laid it on the ground, with the hope that the scorpions won’t go on the plastic sheet.
Far from artificial light pollution, we were able to see the Milky Way in it’s full glory. Different from other days when we were camping, we stayed up very long this time, with our eyes pointing at the sky.