Desert Safari

View on my bike ride
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I found myself in Tafraoute a small town to the west of

Mirleft, sitting in the basin of the Ameln Valley which is surrouned

by moutainous boulders and dramatic valleys. I had promised i would

be more active than i had been, so after checking into a hotel costing

Painted rocks
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only 35DH a night, I headed to the activity centre to organise some

hard core treks. There were 2 american women who’d just turned 50, both

very small, called Lani and Laurie and (as it turned out) jewish,

however they were not, as i first thought hearing they were from San

Village in Mansour Gorge
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Francisco, lesbians. They had been in Tafraoute for a few days,

enjoying the attention lavished on them by the tour guide men,

including as i later found an illicit kiss! more action than i'm

getting! (due to my best avoidance technique - see Lily Alen's song

Prehistoric paintings
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about being chatted up!) So they were thinking about doing a trekk for 4 days, and i decided

that i may as well go with, after helping them to negotiate the price

down – Clifford chance will be so proud! So we agreed to go on a desert safari, although the implication was that we’d get out and do lots of exciting walks (to break in my walking boots). In the meanwhile, I got a bike thrown in for free, and was told to do the Ameln Valley Circular tour – which I was told was 26Km. Given I’m a girl, I obviously have no sense of distance, only time, but I was promised that although it was 3.45 when I left, I’d easily be back by 5.30 when it was starting to get dark. To off I left, with NO map, only a vague indication of where to go by the guide pointing with his had against the mountains, a bike with dodgy breaks, and 1.2 bottle of water: although I had brought my headlight just in case.

Black desert
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The cycle ride was fantastic = the most amazing scenery, with huge pink mountains on all side, cute little villages nestling into the cliff edge, all made iridescent by the setting sun. However after 16km I started to worry why all the signs pointed from the way I’d already come from – if this was circular I should eventually get signs pointing forward. I carried on, despite the setting sun. By 26km I thought I must be there – it was practically dark, and I’d been told 25km…but then I see a sign – only 16km back to Tafraoute! So I’d been sent on a 41km bike ride, on my own, without a map, in the dark, on a dodgy bike and with no chance of doing it by 5.30. I became very pathetic (all the roads were uphill by this point) and after going a further 7km, I started to cry out of frustration, and flagged down a car. They took me back the last 8km, however they still took about 15DH from my grateful hands, - not such a friendly kind set of people!

white desert
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The next day we started on our 4 day journey through the south of Morocco, heading down across of the Anti-Atlas, into the MiddleAtlas mountains via the Sahara Desert. Headed into the Ameln Valley, seeing the painted rocks by the Belgium Artist Jean Veran: he has painted the rock in blues which reflect the natural colours of the rocks in the different light, but unfortunately the paint used has poisoned the local water source! So not quite such an ‘in tune with nature’ air project. We drove on in the 4x4 toward Ait Mansour Gorge which is a palm tree lined gorge with huge craggy golden pick cliffs either side which we walked through. Leter we headed through a number of mainly deserted villages built into the rock face, toward prehistoric rock carvings at Ukas. The pictures of an elephant like animal (mammoth)and deer, and something that looked like cows and monkey’s were so unbelievably clear still, and just dotted about on massive boulders on the top of a rocky ledge. So strange to think so many years ago prehistoric man was standing in the same place as me, surround by all sides huge sheer rock faces and without any noise whatsoever. The scenery was very dramatic, weaving through the red mountains which changed colour with every turn, looking like a richly embroidered carpet.

Oasis in Draa Valley
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On our second day we headed into the ‘black desert’ so called because it is strewn with small black rocks, giving the image of a black horizon. Quite spooky because hardly any sign of life, although there were one or two nomadic families living in the desert with tent and some animals. Such a hard life! Eventually the black turned to golden sand and we meet the white desert. Later we drove through an old salt lake and we actually saw a mirage of there being a huge water lake. So odd to have seen a mirage! By sundown we hit the sanddunes and spent the night in the most amazing camp. It was like something out of Arabian nights – the middle of the camp was covered in carpets and there were lamps everywhere. They had an orange sparkly material covering the outside walls of the tents, which twinkled and sparkled in the light from the candles. The guides all wore traditional Sahara dress – aqua marine blue covers, and their heads covered with deep blue turbans. The tents even had proper beds! So a very unusual experience under such a start filled sky. Very cool.

Me in Draa Valley
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On our third day we headed into the Draa Valley, covering another black and white desert. We went to a town which is famous for being a town where mad people can come and get salvation – for free. It also has not had any rain for the last 8 years. So clearly this is the ultimate threat for the crazies – get better, or spend your days in a town in the desert which has water for only 5 hours every 2 weeks! They had an underground Kasbah which was hundreds of years old to compensate for the unbearable heat in the summer.

The last day we climbed the mountain of Zagora, or at least we drove half the way, and climbed the rest. Then spent the next day (surprise) driving through he Draa valley: The Draa Valley was actually very different from the mountains we’d gone through so far – much more wide open spaces which were starting to turn green. There were some lovely berber villages nestled into the mountains. Beautiful.