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TRAVEL BLOG ENTRY
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After the calm of relaxing by the water for a few days, it was time to continue making our way to Fes along the Middle Atlas. We took another Grand Taxi from Ouzoud to Beni Mellal across the mountains. Even though the Mercedes are big, fitting 7 adults is a tight squeeze, especially if you are bigger than the average Moroccan. We only spent one evening in Beni Mellal, to break up the long bus rides. Our stop proved fruitful in that we experienced a typical small city in Morocco, sans tourists. We wandered around the market in the Old Town, without a souvenir to be seen, instead we were bombarded with fresh produce, fish, goat, sheep, cow (all identified by the head of the animal for sale sitting next to the cuts of meat on the counter), and all the various items one might need for the home. One boy selling garlic, would weigh it on scales against a spark plug... "How many spark plugs worth of garlic do you want?"
The next morning we caught another bus to Azrou. Here we encountered the first truly unpleasant experience on our trip. There are 3 types of buses in Morocco, the national CTM buses, Supratours (which is associated with the train company), and numerous private bus companies vying for your business. We were traveling by private bus, which turns out the be the cheapest, and most uncomfortable of the three. On our 4 hour bus ride to Azrou the temperature climbed to about 95°F outside, and there was no AC on the bus, plus there were no windows to open, as it was one of those European style tour buses designed for AC. No AC, no circulating air, rising temperatures inside the bus, and the winding roads across the Middle Atlas did not make for a good combination. The bus conductor started handing out black plastic bags to any passenger who needed one, although we didn't realize what they were for at the time. Soon after, the boy sitting in front of us got sick, then Erin became sick, and finally 3 of the 4 people (2 women and 2 children on their laps) sitting across the aisle became sick. Poor Michael, stuck in the middle of a sea of sick. Arriving in Azrou we rushed to the nearest hostel and crashed for several hours, only emerging for dinner.
Azrou is a quiet little town at the northern end of the Middle Atlas surrounded by forests of cedar trees. There is a big, lovely new mosque that has just been completed, right next to a large rock outcrop that is the city's namesake. We lazed around this sleepy town, walking amongst the cedar trees, and eating at almost every cafe in the main square, trying to regain our composure before making the final bus trip to reach Fes.
previous travel blog entry
melyssa13 says:
ugh, sounds like the bus ride from hell, but great for story-telling later on!!