Blanca & Ian's Travels

Morocco

Trip Report - 2013
 

Morocco . . . Rough around the edges

Marrakech, Skoura, the Draa Valley, Chegaga, Taroudant & Essaouira

April 26 - May 12

The Anti-Atlas & Down the Draa Valley

Day 5

You might have noticed in the pictures on the previous page that we had left the clouds behind in the Marrakech plain.  The temps yesterday had risen to the high 20Cs.  Just about right!

Due to our itinerary change we had an earlier morning than expected & Said arrived about 9:30am.  We headed back to Ouarzazate & made a stop at a Berber museum on the way through.  Well, actually not a museum but a two storey store of Berber goods for sale complete with a carpet shop upstairs.  “Have some mint tea”  We weren’t buying despite the high quality of the goods offered but it was a appreciated bathroom break as we aimed south.  South meant more mountains as we had to cross the Anti-Atlas range but the first view we had was not pretty:  Ouarzazate’s massive landfill.  This meant acres & acres of plastic bags – particularly the blue ones - that seem to be ubiquitous in the fields outside Marrakech & around Morocco in general.  When you see this, plastic bag bans start to make sense.

The mountains were stunning.  Massive tabletop mounts with huge canyons carved by ancient rivers.  We tried to capture the grandeur at several photo stops along the way but it is always impossible.  The last stop gave us a great view of the start of the Draa valley at Agdz where is widens into a lush plain. 
 

For millenniums, the Draa has meant life.  It starts in the High Atlas mountains, cuts through the Anti-Atlas Prehistoric with rock art sprinkled in the surrounded hills as evidence of ancient habitation.  More recently, the Carthaginians & the Romans identified the Draa as a rich agricultural area.  I had thought of Agdz - at its start - as a potential overnight stop during my research but the town looked pretty basic with road construction that has torn up the main drag so I was glad I had moved elsewhere.
 

Just south of Agdz, we stopped for lunch at the old ksar of Tamnougalt, part of which is now Hotel Chez Yaakoub.  A typical tourist lunch of brochettes & fries followed on the terrace overlooking the ksar & the palmeraie beside the river.  After lunch, Said wanted us to talk to his boss in Quarzazate as there seemed to be some confusion about our stay in Zagora.  Specifically, about who would pay.  After a little you said/didn’t say, we resolved it amicably (in our favor, I might add) & it was on the road again.
 

The Draa Valley road is a slow haul.  I could see why Said knew that my original route plan was flawed & didn’t allow enough driving time.  The valley is dotted with an almost continuous stream of old ksars & kasbahs & worn mud brick villages.  Each village was unique but they all shared the same brown hue of the river mud.  And they all had their own graveyard with a forest of small standing stones serving as markers.  The road was well used with donkey carts, bicycles, sheep & goat herds, school kids coming & going to/from school, people carrying bamboo & straw & just about anything else in their carts & on their backs & shoulders & heads.  Just squint a little bit & you could look back a thousand years.  And to our left, we always had the green palms hugging the river as it twisted south between the bordering hills.
 

Mid-afternoon, we stopped for coffee in a nondescript restaurant La Kasbah in Ouled Otmane.  Seizing the chance to stretch our legs we wandered into the palmeraie across the road at Said’s suggestion.  The heat was building – it was near 30C now – and the coolness in the trees proved a nice respite from the sun.  And it gave my wife the opportunity to lose her sunglasses.  C’est domage but at least they were cheap.
 

Accommodations

Villa Zagora

http://www.mavillaausahara.com/

Piste du Djebel, Zagora 45900, Morocco
T 212 5248-46093
 

We were tired when we finally pulled into Zagora around 6pm.  After a stop at the famous 52 days by camel to Timbuktu sign for one of ‘those’ pictures, we drove to the south of town & east across the river to our surprise hotel – it was supplied by DM – and therefore one that I hadn’t research 6 months ago. 

Historically for us as travelers, a surprise hotel is usually a major bomb.  My wife needs a nice bathroom or she gets cranky.  And we have bad habits that we like to indulge in - particularly when we are on vacation.  That is why I research a year out - to find the perfect spot for us.  Roomy, with a private veranda or terrace, a nice bathroom etc.  That said, I occasionally blow it & I must admit, that I too have cringed at some of the places we have stayed in over the years.  The Hotel Pernik in Holguin, Cuba would top my awful list & my wife would point out the Caravaggio in Rome on our first trip there - the room with the three-legged bed.  Yeah, we have had some disasters but eventually, they just add some color to our travel stories.

The Villa Zagora looked like it was going on the list.  A small walled property beside the hwy, it started with a wonderful garden & pool, a decent lounging area in the lobby & a seriously dismal small room on the 2nd of three floors, with a ‘modest’ bathroom with shower . . . down the hall.  Oh yeah!  Now I don’t want to sound like a typical stuck-up privileged North American here (albeit a modest one because we’re Canadians), but we hit our disaster zone.  We told Said that it would do for one night because we were tired & didn’t need or want a scene & the hotel manager was really trying to be nice. “You have the whole floor to yourselves because everyone else is in the desert tonight” “Yes, you can smoke anywhere” “Yes, we will make you a good dinner.  Whenever you want”  OK, OK.  I figured that we had enough booze in our stockpile to get through one night almost anywhere.

And that is what we started to do.  We poured stiff drinks & went down to the garden to escape the depression of the dingy room & to fire up the iPad for some surfing.  And surprise, surprise, it wasn’t bad out there.  Really, really pleasant actually & the staff started buzzing around – bringing us snacks & ice.  I identified two different peppers trees in the foliage & wonderful roses at their peak.  One of the staff – a jovial older man who spoke only French named Ahmed, I believe - was particularly attentive – although really they all were.  We moved over to the veranda for dinner & I cracked the cork on one of my stash bottles of red.  And they brought us soup & salads & chicken brochette – all made by a lady in the kitchen called Aicha.  And it was all great.  Earlier in the trip, my wife had identified a strong dislike for the chicken seasoning at several eateries we had been to over the last few days.  We tried to describe it – turmeric – although it probably was a blend including cumin.  I was translating via the net & Ahmed went to the kitchen & back & forth, eventually bringing a spice jar out of the kitchen for us to taste.  Anyway, their effort was truly charming & it turned out to be a really nice night.  And there were only 2 other couples around the hotel for dinner but the gardens allowed near-complete privacy for all.  One of the couples was the people from LA from the night before – the ones with the surprise itinerary.

When all was said & done, we retired to our dismal room a lot happier than when we arrived.
 

Day 6

It was desert day!  Our chance to touch the remote nothingness that is the Sahara.  Many people obviously share the same desire which is why desert trips are so popular in Morocco & elsewhere.  Sure it is a canned experience that tens of thousands have done before.  And of course, there is relatively no danger.  But it still fires your imagination in some basic way.  And at the very least it was an opportunity to really get away from the accoutrements of modern daily life.  We had asked Said:  “What if the SUV breaks down?” His answer:  “You fix it or you wait & hope that someone will find you before your water runs out & you die.”  Good answer to nervous neophytes.

Said picked us up after breakfast around 9am.  As we were leaving the Villa Zagora, the staff all came out to thank us for visiting.  And Mohammed, the manager, assured us that there were normal rooms with baths on the 3rd level & he invited us to return when they are not fully booked.  We left with smiles for all.  We drifted into Zagora central for a store but the town was abuzz for May Day celebrations & there was no parking to be had.
 

We headed south to Tamegroute & stopped to visit the pottery co-op where they make the distinctive green pottery.  We knew that this was your typical tourist hit & that we would get sucked into an obligation purchase but why not?  Our host spoke only French.  It was rather sobering to see the 14 year old working the pottery wheel inside & a number of beggar children outside.  We decided to skip the Koranic library that is the other site in this small town.  The land around was getting more barren now, with just scrub vegetation - except for the green that hugged the distant Draa as it trickled south.
 

Just after Tamegroute, we saw our first dunes materialize with the Tinfou dunes just to the east of the deteriorating highway.  There was a section of roadwork underway here with a rough bypass - so improvement is gradually coming.  Then it was over a minor mountain before we dropped down into dusty Tagounite to do some turban shopping.  Yeah, it was corny but it was still cool in a strange touristy way.  When in Rome . . . y’know?  We stopped at a fabric store since Said had told us: “The pre-made ones are just for tourists & aren’t long enough”.  We bought 15m of some green cotton for my wife (it matched her top) & 20m of white for me (it’s cooler in the sun & I thought it looked cooler as well) & Said tied them Bedouin style for us.  He said that he had forgotten his own (one of 25+) at home, so he got 30m of black for himself.  He agreed that black was a traditional Bedouin color & that he preferred it anyway. Feeling only slightly foolish, we had coffee in some restaurant in town that surprised us with its amazing tile work upstairs in the bathroom area.  We also took the opportunity to buy some cheap replacement sunglasses.
 

A Note about the pictures . . . For High Res Versions of the photos on this page go to:

Anti-Atlas & Draa Valley Pictures

And keep clicking the magnifying glass in the lower right corner