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| Tajines for sale in Damnate |
Here we are again - another week gone by and more adventures in the book. With adequate planning behind me on Monday (as well as my first faculty meeting at the university, in which I understood only 50% of what was said and successfully managed to avoid being volunteered for any committees), it was time for a real day off.
Somehow, late on Monday night, we had managed to track down the contact details for the "car rental guy" and make the connection that may very well save us this year. Rachid arrived on the dot of 8:55 on Tuesday morning, as promised, delivered a miniature and very functional car to us, and told us to call him when we got back to Marrakech so he could come pick it up. A dream. With parking etiquette still being somewhat of a mystery (there are sidewalk guardians watching cars and helping people park and exit into traffic who seem to require tipping), Rachid's door-to-door service was most welcome.
Andy picked the short straw and had to drive. I graciously volunteered to read the map and give him lots of positive encouragement from the passenger seat. Brianna briefly provided moral support from the back before falling asleep. Andy managed to get us out of Marrakech without a single bump. He smoothly avoided cars, taxis, motorbikes, donkeys, horses, bicycles, and bold pedestrians. He merged into the roundabouts with just the right balance of authority ("don't let them sense your fear") and caution. We made it to the city limits unscathed and headed due east for a taste of the Atlas Mountains. Our first destination was the town of Demnate, a gateway to the Central High Atlas Range. We drove through a couple of large towns and miles and miles of olive groves and prickly pear cactus plants. We continue to marvel at how anything can actually grow in the dry, rocky soil. As we got closer to Damnate, we saw piles and piles of olives next to the road waiting to be stuffed into giant water bottles and sold or waiting to be pressed into oil.
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| Demnate from above |
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| Demnate |
The town itself provided a rest stop and taste of life outside of the city. We no longer blended in with the throngs of tourists in Marrakech, and we struggled to find a spot to sit down for a snack. Cafe after cafe were filled with only men, so Brianna and I tried to decide if there was a rule of some kind. Eventually, a friendly cafe employee clearly gestured to us to come in and sit down, so we took him up on his offer. The three of us were starving, but the cafe offered only drinks. We went for a round of mint tea (with enough mint leaves to pass as food). Still in search of real food, we managed to find a bakery with bread sticks for sale. We stocked up, unsure what the rest of the day would bring. We wandered around the alleys of a market area for a little while and decided to carry on in our quest for mountains.
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| Imi n'Ifri |
The road wound up out of Demante, and, just 6 km later, we arrived at Imi n'Ifri, a natural bridge that formed over a gorge millions of years ago. We hiked down into the gorge and through the stalactite-decorated grotto for our first real glimpse at Morroco's natural side. Then we hopped back in the car and headed into the Ait Blel Valley, a valley that our guide book described as "untouched by time" because the road is fairly new. This is where we saw glimpses of Morocco off the beaten path. We marveled at the buildings - both old and crumbling and relatively new. We saw very few other cars and lots and lots of donkeys. The landscape was brown and red and dry. Little villages nestled into the hillsides were barely visible from the distance as the red clay homes blended in perfectly with the hills. The mosques were the one thing that stood out in every town - often painted yellow or, in some cases, white. We got lots of friendly waves as we passed, and we all found ourselves wondering about what people do all day in these places. We wondered about schools and jobs, money and food. It was a world apart - separated from all that we know as essential to everyday life. People seemed content to sit and chat and sell fruit. The madness of Marrakech felt a million miles away.
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| The Ait Blel Valley |
Eventually, with no end to the mountain road in sight, we decided to turn back and head for the Cascades d'Ouzoud, dramatic waterfalls that are a popular day trip for Marrakshis seeking a break from the city heat. First we had to deal with the situation of food again. The best bet seemed to be a gas station meal. Most gas stations have a large plaza with restaurant, toilets, mosque, and, of course, gas. So, we decided to test one in the middle of nowhere at a station called Afriquia. It was a one-plate deal - bread, tomatoes, fries and meatballs. The vegetarian among us struggled a bit, but she put on a happy face and made a tomato sandwich.
We headed north toward the waterfalls and arrived, parked, and wound our way to the overlook. This was no Niagara Falls, but there were also no safety precautions apart from signs warning you to stay away from the top of the falls. We watched a man perch in a small, slippery pool at the top of the falls to wash his feet. My legs turned to jelly just watching him. The falls were impressive from above, and we could see monkeys playing on the walls down below. We decided that we had to make the trek down into the gorge to get the full effect. The narrow stairs all the way down were lined with restaurants and souvenir shops. It wasn't exactly a "nature experience," but it was really fun. The collection of colors, smells, and views was almost enough to distract us from the fact that we would eventually need to ascend these stairs in order to get back home. At the base of the falls, there were pontoon boats that looked as though they might float you around the pool at the base of the falls, lots of large rocks and some beautiful views. There are supposed to be rainbows every afternoon, but, as the sun was setting on our day, we didn't catch any magical glimpses of color. After taking lots of pictures, we started the trek back up the stairs. We paused halfway to go out on a platform where the monkeys were playing. Some were cute and some were just huge and scary. We put Andy (our token rabies vaccine sporting member of the party) between us and them and made for the stairs to continue our climb. Panting and sweaty, we eventually emerged from this little adventure and returned to our car just in time to negotiate the 200 km back to Marrakech in the dark. Two and a half long hours later, we made it back to the city unscathed - dodging horses, donkeys, motorbikes without lights, and pedestrians hidden in the darkness by their long black and brown robes. Rachid's friendly smile welcomed us back to our apartment building, and we breathed a sigh of relief at having survived our first successful adventure outside of the city - the first of many yet to come, insha'Allah.
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