Sahara Bound

Marrakesh grand taxi depot is not a great place for a picnic. We carved our way through the rank urine laden air and started haggling for a ride up over the high Atlas to Ourzazate (pronounced wuzazarte). The fattest man in Morocco finally secured our custom and we were off with our driver Mohammed for the 200km journey - not the chattiest fellow by any stretch. Within a minute Archie had pooed his nappy. Luckily our pathetic french request was overcome by smell and he knowingly pulled over.

The Altas are big, we hadn't seen them from Marrakesh due to a sandstorm when we arrived but when were driving through the foothills they loomed snowcapped and very large. The road winding up to Tizi n Ticha was spectacular. I only had one camera card for 2 weeks and was going to have to be very selective. The colours of the earth in the mountains are incredible...from deep purples, browns, reds to almost white and these combined with the folding and erosion of the land had us stopping Mohammed so we could just gaze. 'What's the big deal? his eyes said. The fossil and thunder egg (no not box) stalls that litter the roadside display are testament to its richness. A geologists utopia I suspect.

Life on the other side was quiet. The roads were traffic free as here the family car is a donkey. The beast of burden is truly the beast of burden and donkeys seem to do everything from taxis to mowing, from ploughing to pulling huge wagons - it's quite amazing what those little legs can do!

After an overnight in Ourzazate we decided to hire a car to give us more flexibility...and seat belts! Always good when most of the other cars are falling to bits. We set off down the Draa valley, a series of lush palmeraies and villages along the river flanked by stunning mountains - destination Sahara. It was a top 10 drive. Very speccy. Nice fresh dates along the way as well! Nice fresh dates for nice fresh dates.

At Zagora, Hassan the 'blue man' organised a 4WD and guide for us (another labourious haggling session) and we set off early the next day - destination some 100kms away. Most of this trip was over stony desert and small dunes, every now and then we passed tribes of nomads - destination seemingly nowhere.

Unmarked wells were infrequent, just holes in the ground surrounded by a few stones - I guess the nomads just knew where to go in this featureless lanscape. The boys didn't stray too far from the landcruiser as I think they understood the consequence of being left behind. Dessication.

We arrived at a small oasis and met our nomad guide - he was very friendly like most all Moroccans and had a classic sweetened mint tea and no toothbrush smile. 'Why has he got brown teeth mum?' at 200 decibels. 'Shhhhhhhh!' From here we continued to Erg Chegaga (sweet home Chegaga) and the 300m dunes.


After climbing the highest dune, running back down and chasing scarab beetles about we headed for our encampment. The tent was authentic beduin style and the highlight dinner at a table set atop the dunes under the stars - tajine of course.

as clichéd as it may sound it was really a treat...even saw a few falling stars. And of course an after dinner seach for the Fennec fox, just to keep the two naturalists happy. It had been a great day.