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(>Pictures at the bottom!)
….lower the tyre pressure and off we go
No sooner had we arrived at the foot of the Erg Chebbi – a large sand dune landscape east of Merzouga – than all sorts of ‘guides and advisors’ for desert adventures were standing next to the car. They all wanted to make us the ultimate offer; we really were spoilt for choice. But we left ourselves some time for our arrival day. Instead, we had to help a German traveller repair his caravan. A ‘guide’ led him out to the foot of the Erg Chebbi and after a crash half the inner floor was missing from the caravan and the ‘guide’ was nowhere to be found.
Surprisingly, we were able to enjoy our breakfast in peace the next morning. It was only in Merzouga that we were approached by various people offering all kinds of activities in the sand dunes. Almost by chance, we met Mohamed von Excursion to the dunes Merzouga, an official guide who was returning from a tour with two off-roaders and offered us his services. For a two-day tour across the Erg Chebbi, he wanted 1700 MAD, which is about sFr. 160. I was thrilled with the offer after the other off-road drivers had highly recommended the guide to me, and wanted to accept right away. Chantal hesitated, but agreed later. So the ‘big boy’ was able to look forward to playing in the sandbox – an early Christmas present. 🙂
We stocked up on water and food, filled the tank to the brim and went to the agreed meeting point. It was also somehow a new feeling to just follow someone and not to concentrate on the map or navigation. I (Tom) was also very curious to see what awaited us beyond the first sand dunes and how it would be to make our way through this large sandbox; we had never travelled this way before and driving in sand was uncharted territory for us. We didn’t ask ourselves whether Mohamed could have towed us out of a sand hole with his off-road vehicle, because his light vehicle would hardly have had a chance with our heavy camper.
But first things first; Mohamed knew what he was doing and was always in control of us. In the sand and on the dunes, he didn’t allow us, or me (Tom), to deviate too much from his tracks and demanded that I follow his tracks. So we spent the next few hours digging through hollows, scrambling – or was it winding – up to the next dune, before descending steeply down a sandy slope. We had a great time and couldn’t wait to get to the next dune. Later, we set up camp in the middle of this dune landscape and, while sitting together, there was a lot of exchanging ideas and stories about life in the vastness of the Sahara. Since the sky was a bit overcast, we didn’t get the promised starry sky with its countless shooting stars. But an absolute silence set in; wow, what a pleasure.
The next morning I got up before sunrise and climbed the next sand dune. The sky was mostly cloudy and the desired sunrise did not happen. Instead, I heard the first quads from a distance, also struggling up a sand dune somewhere. At some point, the sun shone out from the clouds and I (Tom) returned to camp, where our guide was already sitting by the warming fire.
For the onward journey, we could choose from two possible routes: through the sand dunes directly to Merzouga or further along the eastern edge of the Erg Chebbi to the former copper mining village. We chose the longer option and finally drove around the whole dune landscape. After not quite 24 hours, we were back at the starting point, where we thanked Mohamed and looked for our own onward route. Whether it was the ultimate adventure, I don’t want to doubt at this point, but we had already experienced crazier things with our camper. Sand, only sand, however, was a completely new experience for us and even driving behind it left certain behaviours. Everything else; well, from this point of view, we had completely overpaid for the offer and had already experienced it several times!
The new experience gave us a lot of self-confidence and we continued in a westerly direction to the next sandbox, the Erg Chegaga. This can also be found as the absolute highlight in many tour descriptions. For the outward journey, we chose the southernmost drivable route that we could find on our map. At the next campsite, the owner explained to us that the track was currently not passable and that quite a few vehicles had already got stuck in the deep and wet sandy soil. Of course, he also offered us his services as a guide, which would have cost a few dirhams. Chantal did the maths and politely declined the offer. Actually, we can find our own way. Despite the refusal, we still received a lot of valuable information about the route and other tips.
So we chose a route that led along a lead mining area before turning south towards Sidi Ali. In the early afternoon, we reached a transition at Ba Habou, also known as the Lost City, where a Berber wanted to tell us the history of this place. Unfortunately, we didn’t understand his language and he was very keen to call his son. He would have explained the history to us by mobile phone and in French. But in this deserted area, even his mobile phone didn’t work, and so we left the once magnificent settlement without further explanations.
We still roamed many wide plains with countless dry riverbeds, dune landscapes with deep sand and wide gravel areas as far as the Oued Ma’der. We had no wet and swampy sand passages and with a lot of self-confidence we steered through the wide plains, where there really wasn’t much. Sidi Ali surprised us with a widespread settlement area and we wondered to each other what the people actually do here; nothing but sand and stones, endless expanses and almost always dry.
Contrary to our information, there was still a lot of water from the heavy September rainfall after Sidi Ali and our route led us right across this temporary lake. But in this area, you simply choose a new route that leads in the desired direction. We made rapid progress and reached Zagora in two days. Before we continued, we took a step back and enjoyed a wonderful campsite in the middle of a palm oasis. It was also time to take care of our equipment, as this place offered us the necessary facilities and infrastructure. Zagora was also the starting point for our next adventure; the Erg Chegaga. So we filled up on supplies and bought enough food.
The approach to Erg Chegaga gave us a mixed impression. Wonderful hotels lined the road, but the rest left a somewhat grubby impression and the villages along the approach road were not particularly well maintained. The Erg itself is located in the Iriqui National Park and to the west of it lies Lake Iriqui with its unique flora and fauna. In recent years, this lake has lost a lot of water, due to natural circumstances as well as man-made causes.
Although the Erg Chegaga is located in a national park, there are countless desert camps of various tour operators in the dune landscape, where many tourists are probably pampered and every provider wants to outdo the next. However, when we passed through, most of the camps were deserted and only a security guard drew attention to himself. No idea when the high season is supposed to be here.
We chose the southern route around the sand dunes, strengthened by our sand experiences at Erg Chebbi, and looked for our way further west. The many route options on the electronic map, as well as the countless tracks in the terrain, did not make choosing the right course particularly easy. The time of day and the weather forecast also pushed us to choose a route that would allow us to make rapid progress. We had no specific information about Lake Iriqui, so after a long drive over a wide area, we had to turn around; the ground became wetter and the ruts deeper and deeper. Something sparkled in the distance on our way and did not bode well. Due to the heavy rainfall in September, the lake had the highest water level in the last 30 years and many possible routes were under the water surface. So we took a detour around the lake, which we could see in full size further west.
For the coming night we chose a slight hill and parked our jeep according to the rising wind. We sealed the engine compartment and the raised air intake so that everything wouldn’t be full of sand the next day. The wind whistled ever more strongly around our vehicle and the morning breakfast was more of a gusty affair, with lots of sand in the coffee, than a pleasurable moment. In terms of visibility, we were certainly glad to be on the west side of Lake Iriqui.
As we continued our journey, there was a lot of sand in the air and at times we were enveloped by our own swirling sand dust, so we had to stop to let the dust pass us by. Despite the wind, we chose the additional detour over the Cobra Pass; the name was just too magical and a parallel mountain range protected us from the strongest gusts of wind.
We could see the cobra from a distance, so the detour was worth it. The cobra didn’t bite, but down in the adjacent plain, a strong wind blew again, blowing plenty of sand through the air. At times, visibility was so poor that we had to stop and wait for a better view. We also didn’t fancy a wild camp and preferred the campsite in Tata, where the site and the walls offered us a certain amount of wind protection. Although the wind didn’t howl around our camper, the muezzin’s call regularly sounded from the loudspeakers at the nearby mosque.
According to the weather forecasts, the wind – they spoke of a bise – would continue for a few days and the intensity could increase. We did not let ourselves be brought to our knees by ‘this wind’ and continued our journey according to our plans. And, we also had some luck; the weather, or rather the wind, died down and gave us great experiences in a very lonely area on our route, which did not follow the main roads but led across the countryside.
The chosen connections were more bumpy than pleasant to drive and our progress slowed down more and more. The slow progress didn’t bother us too much, but the increasing wind was a driver of our western journey. Actually, we wanted to drive via Tan-Tan and take a proper break on the Atlantic Ocean. But the renewed sandstorm forced us to pitch our camp north of Tan-Tan at an auberge with an attached campsite. The building protected us from the strong and recurring gusts of wind, but the fine sand trickled down on our car throughout the night. The next day, not only was our jeep covered with a fine layer of dust, but the fine dust was also everywhere inside, and the storm continued to rage at full strength.
There was a lot of sand in the air and the forecast was for no improvement in the next few days.
What should we do; drive further south or flee in a northerly direction? After intensive study of the weather maps and forecasts, we decided to turn north; it should be a little better there. Hopefully!
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