June 2nd - The desert tour

Photos for June 2nd - Tighmert

Breakfast was served at 9am on the dot; black olives, assorted freshly baked breads, fresh butter, strong coffee in miniscule cups. Salama and Mohammed arrived at 9.45am in an ancient jeep. Oh, today was going to be an adventure! My aunt had felt unwell the previous night and didn't think she should accompany us today. But we would be sitting, chauffeured through the desert and who knows where else. Convinced there would be minimal walking, she joined us. A box containing our picnic was put in the back of the jeep, Salama wound long white scarves into turbans around our heads, and we piled in ready for, and expecting, an adventure.

Salama was to be our guide, Mohammed our driver. Salama is fluent in French and speaks very good English. He is of Berber origin and has family who live in the Sahara as he once did. Mohammed speaks Arabic and little else.

Our first stop was ‘an oasis.’ Lush greenery, palm trees and bougainville standing out among the rocks, a river, and a canal system. Salama proved both knowledgeable and willing to answer my endless questions. Our tour took us from one oasis to another where we left my aunt and Mohammed and walked along the narrow canal, crossing from one side of the river to the other … watching the jeep following our progress and wondering where we would rejoin. We saw nomad’s tents off in the distance, a solitary nomad and his dromedary drinking at the river - possibly returning from the market in Goulmime. Suddenly the jeep was back in front of us and we headed into barren land.

We drove through endless desert, although not true desert - not the Sahara, but bleak nonetheless. Mountains on all sides, cactus, small shrubs, no dwellings, the occasional small argan tree. Bleak, desolate, but still beautiful in its own way. Rich colours, striations creating attractive patterns, valleys showing where the wind and weather alter the landscape. Hot, but not humid. We journeyed on.

We stopped at the hot spring; not a geyser but a spring tapped by the government. Salam said there is a network of them, mapped by the government. Oh how I wish I had proper computer access. I know I could pull those maps, see the locations and all the associated information. Gabriella and Andrei took the opportunity to paddle in the warm sulphurous water. I, meanwhile, found molehills to explore and a lizard to play with.

We passed outcrops of rocks, black flint with pictures etched “by the ancient ones” and graffiti etched by the more recent ones! We stopped for lunch in the shade of a solitary tree. It is Ramadan, observed by both Salama and Mohammed, so they served us our meals and then absented themselves. We ate, sitting on a low branch, my aunt on a small chair thoughtfully brought along: simple ‘Moroccan’ salad of cucumbers, tomatoes and the lightest olive oil; a loaf of large round bread - airy and full of holes, hard boiled eggs, yogurt, water. We took some time to stroll after lunch, finding sea shells while Salama slept in the jeep. Mohammed joined my aunt and I, and, amused, answered with animal sounds and gestures, my questions about the animal scat on the ground around us. Dave and I hike, ramble really, in the parks and conservation areas near us in Sarasota County. Identifying  animal tracks and scat is something that we do. Of course, Mohammed was not to know this!

We passed a group of dromedaries and descended en masse to take photos. Salama instructed us to walk slowly towards them, hands cupped. They would think we came bearing food so would not run away. Taking photos was the first glance we had of Mohammed’s personality and sense of humour. He is not a young man, he doesn't say much. But he watches, is attentive to our needs - swooping in with an upturned makeshift step for my aunt to ascend and descend the jeep - and photo bombing with a delightful and mischievous smile at every opportunity.

We drove for what seemed hours through barren land, mountains around us, whispy clouds hanging barely above us. The sun on the mountains creates different pictures as we drive. It is all quite beautiful. We pass more groups of dromedaries, ears tagged, bearing brands of ownership, not a human around for miles.

In the distance Salama points out a sand dune. Distinguished by its homogenous colour, its lack of striations, it is barely visible. Another half an hour and we are on an upward climb, to marvel at the mass of richly coloured sand underfoot, and the view from the top of the dune. Gabriella takes the opportunity to roll down the dune. I am older and can think only of how many days it would take to remove the sand should I join her! As we sit and survey the scene, I note Mohammed standing aside … chatting animatedly on his cell phone!

We began our return journey, but still have delights ahead. We drove interminably on barely discernable roads, tracks really, until suddenly Mohammed stopped the jeep seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Salama gestured for us all to get out and follow him, then promptly disappeared! It is a rocky canyon, with a series of small waterfalls into a small river at the bottom. Mohammed planted a small chair at the top of the cliff and made it understood that this is not something my aunt should attempt. I gamely followed Salama, hoping that I would be able to make the upward journey without too much help. Gabriella is young, she bounded ahead, Andrei followed behind me, a little more cautiously. My aunt watched from way up high and waved as we finally reached the calm quiet river. I stopped to take photos then clambered back up to find the source of the falls, thinking how sad to see so much graffiti on the rocks.

We were not yet done with our tour, although the day was getting on and Mohammed and Salama were becoming anxious. It is Ramadan, they have not eaten, they want to be at prayer on time and break their fast at 7.30pm. Our tour was supposed to end at 6pm… it us already later than that. But we had requested a visit to the local museum. We pulled in to the parking lot of the Caravanserai museum, a tiny building, and were greeted by L’habib. He has the gentlest face of any human I have ever encountered. He has a booming laugh, an easy smile, is thrilled when asked to pose for photos - photobombed by Mohammed- loves to be huggged, has a generous personality, and punctuates all of his sentences with a gut busting “ugh” - an Arabic version of the Canadian “eh” eh? He showed us around the museum; artifacts found in the desert or bartered for when the caravan is in town: slave cuffs, agricultural tools, camel seats, traditional clothes, musical instruments… the museum is small, but contains many items. He is Saharawi, a tribe from the Sahara, and speaks little French or English. But he makes himself understood. After the tour he led us to a tent and made mint tea. Gabriella and Andrei inspected the trinkets for sale, she chose a bracelet, he purchased it for her upcoming birthday. I don't want any more possessions so I remained seated. Finally Salama ordered us into the car. His day is done. He is tired and hungry. Mohammed needs to drive to Goulmime for prayers. We returned to the hotel where Ibrahim was waiting, and our evening tajine was being prepared.

Before dinner Ibrahim made it understood that he would like payment that night, not in the morning. Oh, and he doesn't take credit cards … the four of us checked our wallets; credit cards a plenty, and almost -but not quite - enough cash. Andrei and I were elected to drive into town, accompanied by Ibrahim. Gabriella and my aunt remained. We told them to do the dishes and that we'd Skype their families and inform them of their new address!

We drove the 10 Km to the supermarket in the nearest town. Tomorrow, Andrei and Gabriella will be returning to Agadir and flying back to Roumania, they have kindly offered to drop us off along the way. We knew the shops will be closed for Ramadan, so took the opportunity to buy items for the next days journey.

We returned to the hotel, paid Ibrahim, packed, and made plans. This has been a good day. We didn't see much of Goulmime. We didn't see the camel market. We saw so much more, had a wonderful time, and made new friends.