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(>Pictures at the bottom!)
Finally, the time had come; a stable weather window promised us no getting stuck somewhere south of Tizi n’Tichka – a pass in the High Atlas – and also on the northern side the wet weather period should be over. We quickly packed our things on the campsite in Zagora and when saying goodbye to the groundsman, he casually remarked that we would surely be back at the site soon. We laughed together and hoped that it would not be so.
Of course, we did not choose the easiest route; we followed the Oued Drâa on the left bank along the old road that passed almost all the places with the many ksar and kasbahs. Unfortunately, most of the old mud buildings are severely neglected by their owners and much of it is slowly but surely falling apart. Even many gardens in the oases lie fallow and the palm trees are also dying because they no longer receive water from the allotments. We interpret this as a strong rural exodus!
Shortly before Agdz, we turned east and briefly followed the road to N’Kob. I found a mountain road through the Jbel Saghro mountains; a route towards Ouarzazate far from the tourist trail. But in the middle of the mountains, it was suddenly no longer certain whether it would be possible to continue at all. The road became increasingly narrower and this route is mainly used by donkeys and their two-wheeled competitors; we could no longer see any car tracks or tyre marks. But turning back was not an option for me (Tom); first we had to try.
In the end, we made it with our planned route and the shepherds looked after us somewhat irritated. We reached the first cobalt mines and good roads over these high valleys before Tagemout. At Tagemout we followed a road that had already been travelled on before turning right and following new tracks. As with the last passage; children waved at us from everywhere and shouted begging words at us from afar. Even the adults were quite intrusive that afternoon and all wanted to sell or beg for something.
The route over the mountain road to the Oued Dades was still very long and the impressions piled up. Unfortunately, the area is very densely populated and we could see a new house behind every corner. So we decided against a night’s lodging in this wonderful landscape with a view of the High Atlas. We continued our journey to the Al Mansour Ad Dahbi reservoir and looked for a campsite at this lake, which we already knew from an earlier overnight stay. This time there were a lot of campers at the lake, which was a little surprising for us, but there was still plenty of space for the coming night.
After a short detour to the film studios in Ouarzazate, we headed for the Tizi n’Tichka and the High Atlas. But here, too, the main road to Marrakech was too easy for us; soon we turned into the valley of the Oued El Maleh and reached the famous Ksar d’Aït Ben Haddou; a tourist mecca and overcrowded with tour buses. Everyone was courting their favour and insistently encouraging the passers-by to visit some establishment or other. No, we definitely won’t stay here!
The route up to the 2197-metre-high Tizi n’Tichka was still very long through the narrow valley of the Oued Ounila and Oued Maleh. Many small settlements and villages line the road and far below in the narrow valley floors, the most necessary things are grown in the smallest of spaces. Above us, the snow-covered mountain peaks towered ever higher. Wow; what a wonderful area.
After the photos at the pass crossing, it went steeply down on the north side and through the long and narrow valley towards Marrakech. Out of sheer boredom, we turned left at some point; a mountain road appealed to us more than the busy main road. On this side street, we were totally taken by surprise by the children begging; the tourists really stop for them, they lie down on the road and hope not to be run over. No idea who taught them such dangerous manners. In any case, it was a dangerous game, not only for the children, but also for us; who wants to run over a child on a curve and even a boy in a Muslim country! After such experiences, we returned to the main road at the next opportunity, which brought us to the greater Marrakech area and its traffic chaos in a relatively short time.
North of this metropolis, we found a small place for our break on the only and totally overcrowded campsite. We also wanted to get into the hustle and bustle of the urban souk market in the medina. The entrance was the Jemaâ el Fna, where the snake charmers and jugglers with the Barbary macaques gave us a warm welcome. The water carriers were also omnipresent and we were allowed to take photos for the appropriate dirhams.
In the souk itself, it was a bit more pleasant and thanks to the distractions of the smartphones, the individual traders were not keen on chasing customers; presumably the posts on the small mobile devices were more interesting and we were able to stroll comfortably through the narrow streets. A few small items were purchased from different traders after the obligatory sales talk. Surprisingly, we were not invited for tea anywhere, which disappointed me (Tom) a little. Even at the carpet dealer’s it was a dry affair.
Afterwards, we experienced the Medina from a different perspective at a discount price during a horse-drawn carriage ride and were happy to relax our feet for an hour before heading back into the crowds of the souk. We enjoyed the evening atmosphere high above the Jemaâ el Fna over a mediocre dinner and made our way to the nearest taxi rank after dark. The day was long and we were glad to be back at the campsite and soon to be sinking into the dreams of the storytellers under the warm covers.
The many attractions for visiting the Agafay Desert also sparked our interest in this ultimate adventure on Marrakech’s doorstep. Why not visit this desert too; we’d already had enough of the urban environment. So, let’s get out to the next (touristically) significant desert. But we were very disappointed: the ergs in southern Morocco and the sand dunes near Agadir can hardly keep up with this area. But the commercialism was huge; hungry adventurers were carted by the busload into this stone desert, where, in addition to quad and dromedary tours, the evening shows were held in the countless party tents. The noise reverberated far beyond midnight into the desert landscape. In addition to local music, which was hard to beat in volume, we thought that ‘Ballermann music’ was booming through the landscape from somewhere. Wow; what adventures are offered to tourists out here just outside Marrakech!
The offers were in any case more than just ‘expensive’ and have nothing to do with folklore and tradition. We packed our things again, rode the sand-swirling quads and hope to experience other things in the Middle Atlas. In any case, we are excited to see what ultimate things await us there.
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