>Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator
(>Pictures at the bottom!)
Plage Blanche – Agadir – Tafraout – Erg Chegaga – Tan-Tan
The sandstorm was very strong by our standards and visibility was limited at times. After intensive study of the weather maps and forecasts, we decided to head north for the time being from the campsite on the lower reaches of the Drâa river. It should be a lot better there and the mountains should provide better protection from the strong northeasterly wind. With this hope we left Ksar Tafnidilt and followed the Drâa river towards the sea on the right bank.
Contrary to our expectations, the piste was worse than we were told and only after a long bumpy ride did we reach the Atlantic. We were also told that the trip would be possible along the beach, but we didn’t know the walking times or the exact entry point. So we followed the dirt road in a northeasterly direction to Sidi Ifni. It was no longer so stormy and the squalls weakened towards Sidi Ifni. Sidi Ifni, a city that was once built by the Spaniards in their style, invited us to feast and stroll. Finally, a night without howling wind and heating! 🙂
We continued our journey along the coast and enjoyed the warm weather. It was also the weekend and many people from the Agadir conurbation were also looking for relaxation. They enjoyed the rushing sea and romped in the sand dunes southwest of Agadir with all kinds of vehicles, dromedaries and snowboards, or simply enjoyed a picnic on the beach. We also rummaged around in the sand and spent a night in the illegal area of the coast. The nearby military post did not object to our presence, but a morning walker drew our attention to the strict prohibition.
Since our jeep was drawing a lot of sand and dust through the air filter and our wine reserves were exhausted, we planned a short stopover in Agadir. At Carrefour, we stocked up on wine at reasonable prices and our jeep received new engine oil including an oil filter. After all the other supplies had been purchased and replenished, we left the hustle and bustle of Agadir and looked for a place to stay for the night before heading back to the east by the sea. But this time the military did not quite agree with our plans and directed us to the nearby national park, where we were allowed to set up our camp for the night among small bushes.
In the meantime, we had made contact with a couple travelling in the same vehicle as us. Why not meet up for a chat, without obligation? For me (Tom), it was not a question, but almost an obligation. For a long time, it was not known where this meeting could take place, as they were still a long way east and wanted to follow the tracks of the Dakar Eco Rally. So we set off in a south-easterly direction and climbed up into the heights of the Anti-Atlas.
We underestimated the high population density of the Anti-Atlas as well as the increasing altitude. In the valleys, it was almost impossible to find a place for an undisturbed night’s lodging and in the heights it was very cold in the evenings and at night. The mountain landscape was unique and would be a wonderful area for extended hikes. In Tafraout, a place in the middle of round granite blocks, climbing would probably be the right sport to spend time doing. We didn’t put on climbing or hiking shoes, but headed to lower altitudes; it was just too cold for us in the evenings and at night!
As we left the higher mountain areas to the south, the damage caused by the September rainfall became more and more apparent. Almost everywhere, the infrastructure was severely affected. In addition to missing road sections, houses were swept away or destroyed by the floods. It will probably take a long time before everything in this sprawling country is as it once was, and people here probably don’t have the kind of home insurance we are familiar with in Europe.
We reached Icht, where we did a day’s washing – for people and materials – almost at the Algerian border, in the wide plain of the Drâa River. It was also an opportunity to visit an underground village. Completely underground would be an exaggeration, but the lower floors of the houses are below ground level, keeping them pleasantly cool in summer. Much of this part of the village is still intact and still in use in summer, but some of the buildings are falling apart. On the one hand, people have moved away or died, the buildings were abandoned by the families and on the other hand, the necessary money for proper maintenance is lacking.
After the tour of the underground city, the local guide invited us to his home for tea and told us in detail about rural life in his community. Although there are many children, many of those who have a good education move away from the villages, hoping to find better work somewhere. For them, too, the desire to immigrate to Europe is very strong and the hope for a better life is an almost unattainable wish.
From Icht, we travelled relatively quickly in an easterly direction towards the Erg Chegaga and the Iriqui National Park. There we were supposed to finally meet the couple who were also travelling in a Jeep Wrangler with a Gazelle camping cabin and say hello. Due to wrong coordinates or an incorrectly entered format, we almost missed each other in the vastness of the Moroccan desert, but by chance we still managed to meet. But instead of a Jeep Wrangler, a grass-green Toyota HiLux with a camping cabin drove up to the meeting point. We were a little irritated, but the situation around the Wrangler was explained to us immediately and before long we were deep in a ‘petrol talk’ about this and that. We had more than enough to talk about and the evening by the fire went by far too quickly. The next day we enjoyed together over dirt roads and gravel roads to the Cobra Pass, where we immediately set up under the protective Cobra for the next night; as already noted, we had more than enough to talk about.
Since our travel plans and the time available were very different, we parted ways again; they – the couple in the Toyota – drove to the Anti-Atlas and we tried the dirt roads along the Algerian border. Yes, we knew that the border was a restricted military area, but the areas could not be found on any map or in other sources. So we reached a military checkpoint far south of Foum Zguid. After photographing the passports and a long conversation with some superior, the soldier on guard opened the barrier and wished us a safe journey. After driving a few hundred metres, we spotted white signs with references to the past Dakar Rally and it was clear to us that we could and were allowed to drive through here. But after 30 kilometres it was over; from a distance, an open Land Cruiser dusted towards us and stopped our journey. We were kindly but firmly asked to leave the area immediately, i.e. to start the return journey. A little disappointed, we turned around and followed the order to return. North of the checkpoint, we spotted another track on the map that led in a westerly direction and was outside the restricted area.
We were a bit more careful with the further planning and made sure to keep a sufficient distance from the Algerian border and the military buildings marked in red, which were located on all possible tracks. However, not all tracks were passable for us in this area. Where the nomads follow the dromedaries and goats with their 125cc motorbikes, our jeep would eventually reach the end of the road. Another search for a possible route; there are thousands and thousands of paths and tracks in this desert. In any case, we found a road on our electronic map that led in the direction we wanted to go. So we continued quickly through this lonely area, where there was really no sign of any other human being.
We had not passed any sign or military check point on our way when we were stopped by a military patrol in the middle of nowhere. They kindly explained that we were in a restricted area and that this was actually strictly forbidden. When we told them that we had not passed any information board or control post, they did not want to enter, because they were simply doing their job and would not enter into discussions with tourists. After recording our data and that of the vehicle, we were escorted to the nearest checkpoint. When leaving the restricted area, they said that we should stick to the paved road; we would have no problem there. The ‘right’ road to Tata was straight ahead.
But we really didn’t feel like driving west on this asphalt road. So we followed a dirt road for many kilometres through very varied landscapes and when we met other off-roaders, the somewhat tense situation on our part calmed down. Our fears of driving into a restricted area again were almost omnipresent. But eventually our track also ended at the newly built road and we headed for Assa at a brisk pace.
In Assa, we again stocked up on the necessary food, caressed the suspended dromedary head at the butcher’s, had a large piece of meat cut from the dead animal, filled up the tank, and off we went again into the lonely landscape. South of Assa lie the Drâa river and the Ouarkziz mountain range. There we wanted to follow a track in a direct line westwards and we should not get into trouble with the military here; the Western Sahara to the south was annexed by Morocco and certainly no longer needs guarding.
The valley of the Drâa River was very green and a real feast for the eyes; after so much dry desert, the green fields with the lush growing grass were a feast for the senses. But as soon as we drove up again towards the Ouarkziz mountain range, the colour changed back to brown and grey; thousands of stones or just sand. Welcome to the next dry area.
In the following days, we followed the Oued Tigerst (dry riverbed) south of the Ouarkziz Mountains and in a westerly direction over bumpy and dusty tracks. After Msied, a former military base, we reached the Atlantic Ocean. It was a journey through wide and untouched areas where we saw just 10 people. But the next sandstorm was already on our heels; we had actually already experienced quite a lot of the strong wind and sand. There is still sand from the last storm in our jeep.
The last stretch along the Oued Chbika was very overgrown in places and an indication that there must be a lot of water underground. Arriving at the Atlantic Ocean, we turned southwest and followed the coastal road. We wanted to visit two tourist attractions. We could not go further south because our insurance does not cover the Western Sahara annexed by Morocco and we did not want to take out special insurance for such a short time.
So we looked at the devil’s hole, which was a few kilometres before Akhfennir. We were amazed at the power of the sea, where the salt water eats whole tunnels into the rocky coast. In Akhfennir, we wanted to get the essentials in peace, get money from the ATM and enjoy a tea. Due to a power outage, there was neither money nor was the bank open. We also skipped the tea; the begging children took the fun out of it. We immediately left the supply town on the Atlantic coast.
Soon we reached the Khnifiss lagoon (Naïla), a large lagoon surrounded by sand dunes that migratory birds use as a resting place on their long journeys to their winter quarters. Since there are currently no migratory birds resting in this very extensive lagoon, there were only a few flamingos to admire and many fishermen who would like to take tourists around the lagoon in their boats, which is presumably more lucrative than fishing. There were also a lot of motorhomes lined up in the car park. Presumably, these motorhome owners had fled from the northern parts of the country to the south, as the temperatures are said to be very low further north. According to our guidebook, only a few tourists usually venture into this deserted area.
For us, these many motorhomes, which were really parked like in a car park, were too much. The wind, which also blew briskly across the plain, gave us the final push: we would drive somewhere behind the coastal mountains. According to further information, there should be a totally secluded parking space in the middle of nowhere at a waterfall. A waterfall is a bit of an exaggeration in this totally dry desert landscape, but the solitude was more than just tempting for us; just to get away from all the other RVs.
On our way to this solitude, it was already a bit stormy and there was a lot of dust in the air. Although we did not find the alleged waterfall in this desert, we did find a suitable place for the night. We were lucky with our choice of place; the wind was gracious to us and even during the night it was almost windless.
In the morning, there was just enough wind to blow the breakfast table out of the camper, as the wind swept across the landscape with increasing force. We were able to take the last gulp of coffee without sand, as the storm really started. Within a few minutes, there was sand everywhere and washing up was more of a washing in sand water. If you opened any door, everything inside was covered in sand or powdered with fine dust.
The road we had driven on yesterday was also covered by sand dunes and visibility was very limited. We were glad when we reached the main road again and looked for a sheltered place to pump up our tyres again. By chance, a nomad joined us and talked to us in his language. But somehow we understood each other and suddenly he took out his mobile phone and showed us pictures of the waterfall behind the coastal mountains, which is close to the former border with Western Sahara. Well, if only we had continued.
But we had had enough of the wind and sand in the air. According to the weather forecasts, the wind should be weaker in Tan-Tan and should die down completely by the evening. So we headed in a northeasterly direction and soon reached El-Ouatia, formerly known as Tan-Tan Plage, with its tourist and military facilities. But the place was definitely not inviting; everything was somehow half finished and there was rubbish in the streets and adjacent fields everywhere.
We were drawn out to the mouth of the Drâa River and the catchment area behind it. However, sand drifts delayed our progress and not all the roads along the Oued Drâa were yet passable, which led to another night in the wide wilderness. We did not reach our actual destination on the opposite side of the river.
To get to Ksar Tafnidilt, we had to take the long detour via Tan-Tan the following day. But we were able to stock up on the most necessary food and fuel. When we arrived at the ksar, a real gem of a place to stay, the owner told us a few things about the September rainfall and that there had once again been a lot of water in the extensive areas of the Drâa River. Many paths and tracks were up to a metre under water and had not been passable for weeks.
Let’s hope that no rain will fall inland in the next few days so that we can continue our journey. We don’t want to spend our retirement in this lonely ksar. 😉
>Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator