Rest of Morocco
Beyond Fez and Marrakech I was able to visit Ifrane in the Middle Atlas Mountains, Ziz Valley, the Sahara Desert, Dades Gorge, a village in the High Atlas Mountains and Essaouira on the Atlantic Coast. Ifrane is a small city that is very modern and European. It is located 1600 meters above sea level which provides a great respite from the heat of Fez. There is a lot of building going on in Ifrane and I understand it is becoming a vacation place for the elite of the United Emirates. We only used to Ifrane as a place to buy beer, wine and other goodies before heading on. Nearby we stopped at a village of maybe 100 nomadic residents that have settled at an old dump site.
The men and the sheep and/or goats were out herding about, but the women and children welcomed us. We stopped because they have created a co-op for their traditional carpets. The families live in rock homes with metal roofs made from flattened #10 size cans. Some wealthy Arab Emirates want to develop the dump, but the families currently have squatter rights. We were greeted by a dead goat and a young donkey that seemed like it was headed the same direction as the goat. Not the best start, but I assumed the goat had just died and it would remain in its location until the men returned from the fields. The women and children were quite warm and hospitable. I noticed that they had beautiful eyes of an olive color. There was little doubt that they are all related. As I have seen in locations such as the Andes, the children and young women were quite beautiful yet they age quickly possibly due to the sun and nutritional deficiencies. Their lives are difficult, but they seem to make the best of it.
Ziz Valley is a hundred kilometer long oasis in the gorge cut out by the Ziz River. Abdul Kareem took us to his village which is a near-empty, crumbling adobe mud fort/village (ksar). Abdul Kareem owns a large adobe kasbah just outside of the ksar where his family served us a traditional Moroccan lunch started by fresh dates and milk. Before lunch, we walked through the ksar with the few locals who have not left for the bigger cities and through the date and other produce fields. The ksar was enchanting yet a bit creepy since a lot of it has turned into ruins as the rains wash it down and no one is there to repair the unused portions. We investigated the irrigation system they employ to water the dates, maize, alfalfa, figs and other crops. The dates are the main source of income for the area.
The winds were blowing hard and the sky darkened from the sands. Our camel ride into the desert for a night of camping in nomad tents seemed like it would be canceled, but the winds calmed enough by time we made it there to allow us to proceed. We rode two hours and I was quite uncomfortable for all of it especially when it became dark and I could not compensate for going up or down hills because I could not see them. It was a hot, uncomfortable night, but that was soon forgotten watching the sun rise on a clear morning surrounded by reddish sand dunes. Afterwards, the ride out was much better than the ride in for me because I was much more relaxed on the beast. The first taste of the Sahara was quite good.
Morocco has a few river gorges cut deep into sand and rock. We stayed in Dades Gorge where we were able to hike around the rocky hills and by the river. The sunrise was a beauty lighting up the surrounding cliffs and it was very pleasant walking amongst the local plots of maize, tomatoes, squash and other crops. As with most of the days on the group tour, we had a long ride that day to Marrakech and I was disappointed to see a lot of beautiful sites passing by at 80 kph.
We visited a small village high in the High Atlas Mountains after a couple of days in Marrakech. I found this to be quite a boring excursion, but I enjoyed some hiking and the crisp mountain air was certainly a nice break from the hot, foul air of Marrakech. After visiting an organic olive and other produce farm where we had a traditional meal of squab, we continued to the coast to visit a small, ancient villa called Essaouira. Here I found a completely different Morocco. One that is paced by the sea and the fishing. The fishing fleet mainly catches sardines. I spent the morning photographing this very picturesque medina that is surrounded by ramparts. My favorite location was on the docks watching the day’s catch being unloaded. There is such an abundance of cheap labor that the hulls of the large fishing boats are emptied by hand using small baskets. The men were also busy repairing nets and doing other maintenance in order to fish again. Across from the main dock, small blue boats had brought their catch in and it was being sold to women and men on the spot. I ate a fantastic lunch of grilled fresh sardines that was just perfect. I walked around town all day and was only disappointed by arriving at the catholic church after it had closed. The church is supposedly ornately decorated with thuya wood which I have come to really appreciate due to its colors and grain so I imagined the church to be quite beautiful. Plus, it’s a church in the land of mosques!
Essaouira provided a truly third-world moment in the form of a very scary, no sense of safety act of work. I was on the rampart looking down on the port when I noticed that a large fishing boat that had been in for repairs was going to be dragged across the dock and down the large ramp leading into the water. The boat sat on a sled which had two very rusty loops of thick steel cable protruding. These loops were then connected to a tackle which was attached to a winch by four thick steel cables. These cables ran across the dock area and down the ramp. My attention was caught when the boat first moved, scraping the tarmac with a large screech as it was pulled the first few feet. Given that the boat was being dragged sideways at first, it looked precarious on the sled and I was within the fall zone, I quickly moved down the rampart wall to be out of that potential disaster zone. A man had the dubious job of placing steel bars under the sled to aid the sliding effect. A French couple walked over and I warned them to watch out. The man said “that’s not normal” and I replied “maybe not from our part of the world, but normal here”. I pointed to all of the people carrying on with life walking over the four cables totally oblivious to the dangers that the cables under such high tension presented and we shook our heads. I pictured what a snapped cable would do to human beings in its path and winced. Of course, I also kept watching. The boat was given some more tugs which got it almost lined up straight with the ramp when all of a sudden one of the rusted loops of cable bust. The noise was deafening and everything shook. Luckily, the second loop held and I did not have to witness what a flying multi-ton tackle with attached cables would do the idyllic port scene. Interestingly, I did not notice anyone other than the men working on the pulling of the boat that even flinched. Life continued on the dock as it does every single day.
There are a lot of things that I wish my visit to Morocco had been. Namely, I truly hated the amount of driving around. Sure, we saw a lot, but I don’t really think that makes for a quality visit. What I do recognize is that Morocco is truly an exotic place much different than anywhere else I have visited. While I dislike a number of things about Morocco such as the air pollution, the constant stench of urine and sewage, the unforgiving heat, the concentration of wealth and the obnoxious schtick of the many salesmen, I have to say that this is a country I want to come back to and these are a people that I have enjoyed meeting. Morocco is a freak show yet there is a genuineness that is quite lovely. It is all so weird yet so interesting to watch and take part in.
I took the Marrakech Express in reverse to Casablanca where I took a taxi to the airport. My final images of Morocco included passing by the Casablanca dump. This is a massive dump unlike the one outside Ifrane where the carpet-makers live. The dump is burning – flames that looked perpetual. In the haze I saw homes – somewhat permanent ones and nomadic tents – in the compound with the piles of garbage. Then I saw goats or sheep (too hazy to tell) on the piles eating. And the men and children that were herding them! It’s not a scene that will likely disappear from my memory soon. It absolutely disgusted me yet I stared with eyes wide open. I doubt I will ever understand the worst of Morocco, but I was able to appreciate the best of it despite. I think I am now ready for India… or at least Cairo!
Tags: Africa, Morocco, Travel
vagabondrick
Hi Rick
I’m glad your view of Morocco was rounded, and if you do ever decide to go back let me know and maybe we can hook up in Marrakech. Then you can meet baby Zia, who arrived safe and sound on September 12th – which by coincidence this year was the first day of Ramadan and the Jewish New Year.
best as always
Ben