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Shannon Rides a Camel and Other Adventures

March 07, 2009

One month into our stay we embarked on an epic tour of Morocco. Officially the program designates this trip the “Southern Excursion.” It’s a catchy name, but somewhat misleading, because although we do indeed visit the south of Morocco, we get there via the scenic route, crossing the central mountain ranges before wending south through the desert and circling back toward the coast to visit Marrakech and finally seaside Essaouira. This entry will chronicle our journey in the hope that you too can experience that beauty and diversity that is Morocco.

Day 1 – February 28, 2009
8:00 AM (more or less) – Depart Rabat under a weak sun and proceed to cross the same verdant farmland we saw on the way to Meknes.
11:07 AM – Visit Domaine Zniber, one of the largest and most modern farms in Morocco. The peach blossoms are blooming. Didn’t know they grew peaches here.
1:48 PM – 4:32 PM – Climbing the Middle Atlas: Cedar forest, lunch, Azrou, and back to the forest. Frolicked in calf-deep snow banks beneath the stately trees. Sneakers just aren’t meant for snow.
4:32 PM onward – Descending the Middle Atlas. The landscape has become dry and scrubby. Spend the night in a converted kasbah—a desert fortress. We think it’s luxury.

Day 2 – March 1, 2009
8:30 AM – Leave the hotel for several hours of bus time* across rocky, reddish land reminiscent of the American southwest. Berber architecture emphasizes the similarity. There are periodic small towns, but all in all it’s pretty empty. Blankets of purple and yellow flowers growing in the hard soil are a surprise.
11:51 AM – Quick stop at a panoramic view of the Ziz Valley, a river of date palms and human activity between walls of dusty, barren stone.
12:33 PM – First signs of sand—we’re approaching the desert.
2:24 PM – I learn to tie my scarf like a turban.
2:30 PM – Land rovers take us from hard-baked earth to wind-sculpted dunes. I thought it was barren before? There is nothing out here but tire tracks and, oddly enough, a few lonely signs for hotels.
3:29 PM – Arrive in Merzouga, the last village before the Algerian border. Visit an NGO working to promote literacy and environmental awareness in remote areas of Morocco. There are dozens of similar organizations in the country, and they do a lot of good.
4:42 PM – I gracelessly scramble onto my camel, and as we start climbing the dunes I think camel-riding isn’t as uncomfortable as people make it out to be.
5:16 PM – Scaling rosy dunes under a periwinkle sky. I can’t believe I’m in the Sahara. Note: Sneakers aren’t meant for sand, either. Barefoot is much more fun. And I learn that sand is like glue: It sticks to everything.
6:03 PM – Sunset on the dunes, then time to return to the village. I take back what I said about the comfort of my camel’s back.
9:04 PM – After yet another delicious Moroccan dinner, we unwind at a performance of Gnawa music, brought to Morocco by Sub-Saharan Africans. “Unwinding” involves participating in the musicians’ dances. I don’t last very long—it’s been a long day.

Day 3 – March 2, 2009
4:50 AM – Alarm goes off for those who want to hike to the top of the highest dune and watch the sunrise. In spite of the hour, I feel alert.
5:15 AM – Led by our academic director, nearly our entire group sets out at a brisk walk, with only the bright desert stars and a few flashlights to show us the way.
5:52 AM – My overeagerness catches up with me: I pause in my struggle to climb the fickle sand, chest heaving, heart pounding, gazing bleakly at the remaining distance (it looks endless in the flat light of pre-dawn) and wondering what on earth possessed me to do this.
6:28 AM – Goal: I collapse gratefully at the summit of the sand mountain. I am one of the stragglers, but I made it. We all made it. The tranquility of a desert dawn—so different from harsh midday—is our reward.
7:13 AM – Back in our hotel room. The day has barely begun and already I’m exhausted. And I didn’t know my shoes could hold so much sand and still contain my feet.

The bus again. The hours dissolve in a haze of fatigue and a blur of desolate landscape. I am again forced to reassign the number one spot on the list of inhospitable places I’ve visited. It’s only been a couple days, but I miss the green. Palm trees don’t count. By late afternoon, we’re all suffering from bus claustrophobia.

6:00 PM – Arrive at the Dar Taliba—dormitory for girl students—in Ouarzazate where we’re spending the night. It’s more than two hours till dinner, but I succumb to lameness and exhaustion and decide to take a nap while others explore the town.
8:40 PM – At dinner with the dorm’s residents, most around eighteen or nineteen years old, we learn about the Tichka organization which, aside from running this and two other dorms in southern Morocco, sponsors solar energy projects in rural villages. The world needs more groups like this.

Day 4 – March 3, 2009
9:09 AM – Leaving Ouarzazate, the snow-topped wall of the High Atlas fills the horizon. We will cross them later today. Something inside me thrills at the sight. I’m such a sucker for mountains.
11:03 AM – There is copious snow up here in the mountains. Weren’t we in the desert less than twenty-four hours ago?
12:46 PM – We’re at our lunch stop. It’s snowing. (!!!!!!)
2:13 PM – Descending the High Atlas and already the landscape is different. There are evergreens and deciduous trees, some leafless, some budding. Signs of green are more evident.
3:34 PM – Back in legitimate farmland—lush valleys and mountain foothills turned emerald by this year’s abundant rain.
5:00 PM – Arrive in Marrakech, second in size only to Casablanca and likely the most touristic city in the country.
6:00 PM – After a much-needed shower, I join some friends for our first foray into Marrakech. Just a couple minutes from our hotel is the legendary Djemaa El Fna, a large square in the heart of the city. Acrobats, storytellers, snake charmers, musicians, and trained monkeys entertain locals and tourists alike, although this afternoon’s rain has left the square pretty subdued. The food stalls are still thriving, though.

Past the Djemaa El Fna, we enter the souks, where aggressive shopkeepers hawk their wares in all languages. Still, I love the bright colors of the scarves, rugs, and lamps and the exotic aromas wafting from the many spice stalls. Marrakech is definitely touristic, but in a kind of charming way.
9:07 PM – A post-dinner jaunt to the Djemaa El Fna to sample a local tea made with ginseng and a powerful mix of spices that make Indian chai seem plain and boring. To quote one of my fellow tasters, it smells like Christmas, and the lingering tingle after you drink it is the perfect way to ward off the night’s dampness. Delicious.

Day 5 – March 4, 2009
In a quiet day of rest, I sample the sights and sounds of Marrakech, a city driven by a potent, ceaseless energy. Visitors should take care that it doesn’t overrun them.

Day 6 – March 5, 2009
8:00 AM – Depart Marrakech. I feel I’ve barely scratched its surface and resolve to return before I leave Morocco.
11:22 AM – We pass goats in argan trees, an integral part of the production of argan oil. We’re back in the land of rolling green hills, headed toward the sea.
11:54 AM – Stop at an argan oil cooperative to learn how the almond-like nut—grown only in the south of Morocco—is processed into oil, which is used in both cooking and beauty products.
12:27 PM – Stop for a group picture overlooking Essaouira, the seaside town that is our destination for the day.
4:19 PM – Up on the old fortress wall overlooking the ocean and enjoying the fresh, invigorating air. I embrace the sense of well-being that fills my body. Afterwards I wander the souks, marveling at the relaxed dispositions of the shopkeepers. A refreshing change, especially after Marrakech.
6:33 PM – Watching the sun set over the water. How have I lived eighteen years on the west coast of Florida and never seen this? But even if I had, I don’t think it would have the same significance as this one in Essaouira.

Day 7 – March 6, 2009
8:00 AM – Our last departure, at least for some of us: We have the option to remain in Essaouira for the weekend, but I am among those who, for a variety of reasons, have decided to return to Rabat.
10:24 AM – Heading north past fields studded with poppies, like so many scattered rubies in the rippling grass.
1:56 PM – After a picnic lunch in El Jadida, another coastal town between Essaouira and Rabat, we stretch our legs a little by exploring the old Portuguese fortress. Two girls who visited the city a couple weeks ago act as our “tour guides.” The weather is perfect. We laugh, pose for pictures, learn something, and have a good time. Like the trip in miniature.
6:00 PM – Return to Rabat, bringing our week-long journey full circle. In the last seven days I have felt delight and frustration, pleasure and pain, exhilaration and exhaustion, often in combination. I am stronger because of it. So it was a good trip. I hope you embrace similar experiences in your own lives. After all, isn’t that what learning—what life—is all about?

*Before leaving Rabat, we divided into groups of twos and threes responsible for researching various topics relevant to our trip: the impact of tourism on different natural environments (the cedar forests, the desert, etc.), palm trees and date production, kasbah architecture, the Middle and High Atlas Mountains, and so on. As we came to appropriate points in our trip, each group presented to the rest of the bus. This not only made the hours of bus time go more quickly, but also enhanced the educational value of the trip. I like the idea so much that I’m thinking about using it on long trips when I have children.

Photo One: Peach blossoms at the Domaine Zniber farm
Photo Two: Cedar forest in the Middle Atlas
Photo Three: The Ziz Valley
Photo Four: The shadows of our camels in the desert
Photo Five: The High Atlas
Photo Six: Sunset in Essaouira

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