DEL.ICIO.USFROM ATLANTA TO . . . MOROCCO
A camelback adventure in Morocco
Scenic gateway to the vast Sahara is exotic but delightfully friendly
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Marrakech, Morocco — We gingerly approached the kneeling camels, grateful to be at the end of an eight-hour SUV trip to the outskirts of Zagora and anticipating our three-day desert excursion.
The six dromedaries — children and adolescents by the standards of a breed that can live 80 years — waited stoically.
Eve Gray / Special
Berbers in colorful garb sell water from hide pouches in the Marrakech, Morocco, square.
• Yusef the salesman knows just what you need
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Hassan, our guide, pointed toward them. “Ja-MEL” he said, continuing the Arabic and Berber language lessons that began with our 6 a.m. departure from Marrakech.
Beyond the camels lay the Sahara, an area almost as large as the continental United States, running east-west from Morocco to the Red Sea.
“Timbuktu, 52 days,” Hassan said, pointing south with one hand and rubbing his buttocks with the other, to mimic being saddle-sore.
We’d be content with three days as our first experience in a week of tourism off the grid.
Visits to the kasbahs of the Draa Valley, a supermarket of antiquity in Zagora and a village market, and a lung-testing climb to one of the highest and oldest Berber villages were on our itinerary.
Along the way, we would meet a gregarious salesman, a rent-a-gecko handler — nothing is free in Morocco — and a quietly reverent group of guides who never missed Islam’s five daily calls to prayer.
Although it had been only a year since 24 Islamists were charged with planning to bomb key Moroccan cities, including Marrakech, none of us felt threatened or insecure as we traveled.
Whether sitting in a cloud of brazier smoke from the evening meals in the Djemaa al F’na Square in Marrakech’s medina or in a home in the shadow of Mount Toubkal, we found a welcoming people eager to share their stories.
Camels, into the sunset
If you have seen “Charlie Wilson’s War,” you have seen the Marrakech square — shot from a restaurant balcony that charges visitors a $1 cover — and the High Atlas Mountains, both portrayed as being in Afghanistan.
As we mounted our camels, the afternoon sun began its color show, splashing the ochre sands in pinks and oranges and inviting us to follow the sunset through the date palms and desert scrub into the dunes.
Our first day was a short ride of about 90 minutes to the campsite, time enough to learn how to handle our mounts and figure out how to sit.
Measured to the hump, the camels were about 7 feet high, about 1.5 feet higher than a standardbred horse. The animals are not substantially broader than a standardbred, but the traditional saddle, which covers the hump and makes it unnoticeable to the rider, is wide and bulky and splayed our legs. There are no stirrups.
Shortly after we set out, Hassan shifted to sidesaddle, and as we slalomed through the dunes, most of us switched, immediately grateful for the change.
Proving he knows the tolerance level of novices, Hassan timed the overnight stop appropriately.
At camp, a warm welcome
Our camp was a semi-permanent structure built in a U-shape with Berber fabric threaded over metal poles and a center area lain with carpet and open to the sky. There were four two-person rooms, and across the back, a large lounge for eating and socializing.
We settled in, and Hassan and two of his riders offered sweet mint tea, the traditional Moroccan beverage. As in most Islamic countries, residents do not use alcohol.
“Berber whiskey,” Hassan said.
We learned to appreciate the tea as a friendship gesture so indigenous it is served as a casual welcome or during business negotiations.
After a tagine meal of couscous, sweet potatoes, squash and beef, we gathered around an open campfire for an evening of conversation and songs.
Our guides, using an empty 10-gallon water jug for percussion, far outdid us in this performance, but we left them puzzled by doo-wop. Whether it was the name of the genre or how we sang, “In the Still of the Night” was unclear.
Soon we were looking at stars not seen in most parts of the United States, and so many of them.
“That’s why they call it the Milky Way,” said our friend, James, marveling at the slash of stars so dense it looked like a celestial path.
No question everyone would sleep soundly.
Miles and miles of sand
By 9 a.m., we were on our camels, after a breakfast of fruit and a bread spread with a young goat cheese. The Berbers bake the bread, slightly denser than ciabatta, in ovens molded from desert sand.
We rode about three hours to a dune eight stories high. Still drunk on the elixir of adventure, we dismounted and charged up the leeward side in the deep, loose sand — for about 15 yards before our heavy legs slowed us to a slog for the rest of the climb.
Sitting atop the dune, our turban tails wrapped across our faces as we looked north into the wind, we saw miles of sand and scrub, camel trains and camps, the life of the desert moving around us.
At the foot of the dune, we found more Berber hospitality in a small camp with comfortable cushions, good conversation and, of course, mint tea. It was like that convenience store just outside every U.S. national park, only we didn’t have to buy the trinkets to be welcomed.
After another night of good food, conversation and songs — and a videotaped review of our language lessons from Hassan — we headed back to Marrakech and prepared for a visit to a weekly market and a Berber village.
A market like no other
No matter what you have seen in farmers markets, nothing compares to the scents and sounds of a Moroccan market.
Braying donkeys tied to a roped-off corral (2 cents to park your ride for the day) serenaded us as we walked among stands of fresh produce, silver plate already turning green, kabobs of chicken and lamb, and raw meats hanging in the open air.
A turn around a corner that took us from brilliantly ripe mandarin oranges to the butchers’ stalls caused my wife, Eve, to walk eye to eye into a donkey’s head hanging from a post. She closed her eyes as I led her through the butchers’ market and back into the pretty vegetables.
The Atlas were next on our agenda, starting in the town of Imlil, about 20 miles outside Marrakech. If you are comfortable with maps, you can drive to Imlil and pick up a guide. We turned again to Hassan, who arranged transportation to Imlil and mules for the mountain climb.
A mule to the mountains
Regardless of the shape you are in, use the mules instead of walking. They’re a bargain and you’ll be much fresher as you approach Mount Toubkal, the highest peak in northern Africa, at about 2.5 miles above sea level. You can’t quite get to the top, but you’ll cover more than 3 miles on a switchback path to some of the highest villages.
Armed, where we stopped for lunch, is a village of about 300. The air was cool and crisp and clear, unlike Marrakech, which has a bowl-effect smog because of its mountain borders. The village seems to have grown in a herky-jerky way of block and stone beside footpaths that meandered still higher. Homes had first-floor barns; cattle poked their heads through open windows; chickens ran freely on paths and in vegetable gardens.
On a slope that leaned toward a mountain wash, men worked among groves of apple and walnut trees.
“My village,” Hassan said proudly. “Very old.” He pointed to the snowcapped peaks. “And very cold.”
His village recently had added a second mosque, he said with pride.
Returning to Imlil was easier, as we crossed the wash and walked down a wider switchback.
Imlil, itself, is a picturesque commercial area. Visitors have a range of overnight choices, from the pricey to quarters that are spare but adequate. A second-floor room off the main street, with three single beds and en-suite bathroom, was $25 per person, including breakfast.
Most of the stores — selling the typical leather, brass, antiques and spices — were reasonably priced, but Eve, a keen-eyed artifact collector, challenged the shopkeeper, Ibrahim, about the clearly counterfeit trilobites. “For tourists,” Ibrahim said apologetically, fetching the real thing from his storeroom.
We left Morocco the next day, planning to spend a night in Madrid before catching our flight to Atlanta.
With a few train changes, we got to the center of Madrid, walked up the steps to ground level at dusk and found ourselves surrounded by centuries-old buildings in Baroque, Gothic and Doric styles and throngs of evening commuters — and began planning our return to the tranquility of the Sahara and the High Atlas.
IF YOU GO
Getting there
Expect to pay around $1,000 roundtrip airfare from Atlanta to Marrakech, with at least one stop.
Where we stayed
Riad Zinoun, Marrakech, www.riadzinoun.com. Cost: $40 per person per day; full breakfast.
Where to eat
Area restaurants in Marrakech charge about $40 for two, including salad and dessert. Braziers in the square are $30-$40 for two, a ringside seat at one of the best shows in the medina; do it at least once.
Chicken and couscous are plentiful. Lamb is lean at most braziers and restaurants but is probably mutton in a tagine. Beef is usually chuck or shoulder. If you are wary, order vegetable couscous.
Shopping
Leather: Look for double-stitched seams and linings. Zippers are typically plastic, so consider their replacement price in your offer. We bought a 3-by-2-by-2-foot satchel for $70 and one about the size of a large doctor’s bag for $30; both less than half the asking price.
Carpet: Get out of the tourist areas and don’t buy from stalls in the medina. If the salesperson doesn’t know the story of the carpet and what the symbols mean, shop elsewhere. Never pay more than half of the seller’s opening offer. Most will include free shipping. Expect delivery in about eight weeks. Moroccan imports are duty-free.
About the tours
They were arranged at the recommendation of our hotelier with Hassan id Mansour, who operates Toubakal Adventure: www.toubkaladventure.com. E-mail: id_mansour@yahoo.fr.
Three days in the Sahara on camels: $400 per person, including transportation, lunches along the route, lodging and meals at the camp. (Ask your Marrakech host if you can leave your bags.)
One-day trip to a Berber village near Mount Toubkal: $60 per person, including transportation, market visit, lunch and mules for climbing the mountain trails (do take the mules).
Helpful Web sites:
www.africaguide.com/country/morocco
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