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Published: April 4th 2012
Local butcher
Purchasing meat for dinner. He's slicing us fresh chicken filletsTuesday
Day 10
We're in Rabat and free days are starting to translate as lazy days spent around the campsite, but I'm okay with that. It was our turn to cook and we were anxious to lose the reputation of taking the longest to serve dinner (so we're three perfectionists, sorry!), therefore vowing to start early and prove everyone wrong. We'd decided on chicken schnitzel, courgette and eggplant fritters for the three vegetarians, a tomato and cucumber salad, carrot and pineapple salad and rice so after breakfast, we began breaking up the leftover bread for breadcrumbs. I was a little unsure about how it would work but we eventually figured if we spread the bread out across three plates and left it in the sun on the truck, not only would it dry out but the various animals that were wandering around the campsite wouldn't be able to score a free meal!
Having done that, Jareb, Rhys and Toby decided it was time for a spot of sunbathing on the truck roof. At the front of our section (not where the driver is; Suse is separate to us), the roof is a tarpaulin, velcroed to three
Boys will be boys?
Catching up on a spot of reading while sunbathing on the room of the truck bars and held in place by rope hooked on the outside. With little effort, the guys removed it and climbed up with towels, books, food and sunnies while us girls sat in the shade, bemused by what seemed a reversal in roles!
Soon after, with the breadcrumbs coming along nicely and sunbathing over, we went in search of the rest of the items for dinner. With a butcher only minutes away, we managed to get our request across (I'm seriously wishing I took French at school instead of Italian now!) and watched as he sliced the chicken the way we needed it. The price was steep though; we'd just spent almost three quarters of our budget on meat and still had several items to go. Feeling a little bummed, we reasoned that there would be enough schnitzel for seconds and headed next door to a small convenience store with a variety of vegetables, soon cheering (literally!) when they cost so little.
Having dropped the food off at camp, we tried flagging down the bus to no avail. It sailed on by us and not yet knowing what the driver's hand motions meant, we started walking. And found a
Marshmallows!
A surprise find in the supermarket bus stop. It's the first one I've seen so far! We're already pros at waiting for buses so we sat and chatted and I watched the locals blatantly stare at us, though I'm not sure why. There's nothing like a country where the majority of women cover up to make you feel somewhat naked in a polo top and a skirt that's knee length! I watched as three English men that we knew from our campsite came towards us and they mentioned shops within walking distance so we set off, happy with the knowledge that a trip to town would be unnecessary. And who knew that the 1kg of carrots, 8 eggs, 6 tomatoes and 4 courgettes we'd purchased earlier would cost the same as a dozen bananas?! By now we were over our budget and still needed rice and breakfast items but there was nothing we could do. Back at camp, we ground the now dried bread with a rolling pin, quite pleased with how it turned out! Salads were prepared and the chicken was floured, egged and crumbed as Suse returned from the embassy with our visas. We were expecting our Mauritanian visas and found out later that
Getting the fire going
We collected the stones to contain the fire and got it going before putting up our tents. night that Mali had also issued visas - in less than a day!
Cooking on coals is very different to cooking on an open fire. Duh. But we were unprepared for how long it would take for the coals to heat which meant a lengthy delay in cooking the chicken and fritters. And with hungry people hovering, even though their joking was good natured, it was hard not to be frustrated. Eventually (yes, it was well dark when we ate...) we sat down to a lovely meal and all was right with the world as we learnt we were heading to our first bush camp tomorrow.
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Wednesday
Day 11
I left Rabat grumpy for some unknown reason so I dozed on the truck until we stopped for lunch and then again afterwards. I awoke in a better mood and watched everyone from behind my sunglasses, listening to conversations. People have already learnt how to push each other's buttons and are feeling comfortable enough with each other to do so. We are all going to be thick-skinned by the end of this trip! Books left unattended will skip a few pages and snorts of laughter
are stifled as the reader returns to try and pick up where they left off... Newly issued nicknames are starting to be used more frequently than proper names... Peoples' funny comments are being written on the ceiling for ongoing amusement... Topics that people feel passionate about are constantly brought up and debated... I am thoroughly enjoying myself already, now wondering what all the panic and stress was for leading up to the departure date!
The route took us through some dramatic scenery with rock strewn mountains, dotted with houses made from stones. Sheep grazed the short coarse-looking grass, watched by men lying in the warm sun. Gone are the endless shades of green, replaced by muted earthy tones. We stopped at a local farmer's house and bought firewood, the guys loading it into the back of the truck with us while the rest of us stretched our legs.
Not much further, we turned off and drove along the empty single lane road with a large lake, lined with snow capped mountains and fir trees off to our right. The truck slowed and pulled over on the left - we had reached our first free camp location and a
pretty spectacular one it was! We set up our tents and having filled the basins with water from the freezing cold lake for washing up later (no one's favourite chore!), I proceeded to add as many layers as I could: djellaba, fleece, scarf, beanie and rather embarrassingly, fluffy socks with my sandals (being in too much of a hurry to go exploring rather than going and getting my boots from under my seat). I now know why the Mongolians I've seen on television look the way they do. I was warm, but I sure wasn't going to be winning any fashion awards any time soon...
Nico and I set off in a different direction to the gang that had already left and I amused myself by collecting the small twigs I came across for kindling. The ground was rocky and apart from the lone tree we passed and a few at the top of the hill, it was barren land. We found a track that curved and led us towards the others but as the sun had already disappeared behind the hill before we left, it was starting to get dark. We climbed part of the way but soon
started the descent and walked back to camp with our head torches on.
Dinner was a lovely thick soup followed by very spicy chicken and coleslaw. Yum (except for the spicy bit but the coleslaw helped). While we were washing up, we were approached by four Berbers who were tending their sheep further down the road, curious to find out who we were. Carlos can speak both French and Spanish and talked with them while we made them a cup of tea. They joined us around the fire, warming their hands and shared their pipe with those who were game before playing their drum and singing for us. Although we couldn't understand, they sang in harmony before having an attack of the giggles which we all found amusing. Once they were done, we returned the favour by singing Yellow Submarine. It was a moment you couldn't make up. Here we were, 16 people who two weeks ago didn't know each other, under a sky FULL of stars - and Venus and Neptune! - in the middle of nowhere Morocco, around a campfire with four locals staring at us in amusement while we murdered a Beatles tune. Who would've thought? We followed it up with American Pie and old 80s music (MC Hammer, anyone? Perhaps some Vanilla Ice?) before I surrendered to the cold and retreated to the tent. It was definitely the coldest night so far as I tried to change and get into the sleeping bag as quickly as possible.
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Thursday
Day 12
It was COLD last night. Taking an arm out of the sleeping bag to straighten the blanket was enough. I managed to avoid having to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and in the morning, woke to a wet sleeping bag. Hang on, that reads terribly wrong. There's no correlation between not getting up and the wet sleeping bag! It was wet from condensation!! I was sharing with Britt who is much better at getting up than me so because breakfast wasn't until 9am, I lay there listening to sheep bleating, waiting for the sun to clear the mountains and warm the tent up.
I hung my sleeping bag over my tent to dry and wandered around the other side of the truck for breakfast, scanning the other side of the road for potential bathroom sites. Under the cover of darkness last night, the flat land surrounding our tents hadn't been an issue but now, the sheep and their accompanying shepherds were all over the place, meaning embarrassed foreigners had a hard time finding some privacy behind the few rocky mounds.
Knowing we were heading up into the Atlas mountains and expecting winding roads, I rode up front with Suse. The scenery was amazing once again as we climbed higher into the mountain range. Along the way we stopped to fill the jerry cans with fresh water from a rushing stream, Justice taking the opportunity to jump in and wash the layer of dust off that was pretty much coating us all at that stage. There were children asking for money which always saddens me so I went back and sat in the truck. After several photo stops and another fascinating conversation with Suse, we began looking for a bush campsite, not far out of Rissani. She will always try to find a quiet place away from the main road and towns but I'm told that gets harder to do as we go further south! Once we found a suitable spot we set up camp and my group set to work cleaning the inside of the truck. There is storage under our seats for our day bags, cameras and any other items we need during the drives but most of us are carrying at least 5 litres of water and there are bottles strewn around the truck. We tidied them up, swept the floor, hung jackets and towels on the hooks and put peoples' stuff together under their usual seats (most people seem to be sitting more or less in the same spot. Mine is behind the forward facing seats meaning I can wedge my pillow in there and sit quite comfortably). My large camera bag is a bit of a pain and I have to keep moving it out of the way but I'm glad I have it. The 50-500mm lens I'm carrying (and need to stop calling 'the rocket launcher'😉 is already looking a little battered which is worrying but although it weighs a tonne, it's such a good lens. I can't wait to see the animals further south and hopefully get some decent shots.
Once again we received visitors; this time people on a tractor, travelling without any lights. We made them tea and again Carlos chatted to them while the rest of us carried on around the camp. The night wasn't overly cold thankfully, given that we'd climbed in altitude most of the day and I was in bed early again. I've been sleeping a lot and at this rate could enter the Olympics in the sleeping category (there is one, isn't there?). At night, ear plugs remove most unwanted noises (dogs, chickens, snoring) and although I rarely sleep through the night without waking once or twice, I have the day to catch up where the truck's rocking motion lulls me to sleep - until we hit a pothole (not overly uncommon) or swerve a crazy driver (again, not uncommon) or turn off the paved roads. Morocco is spoiling us and things are going to be very, very different as we move further into the continent...
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Home and Away
Bob Carlsen
I hope that you are taking pictures...
and that you will edit these blogs to insert them when you find an interent connection that is fast enough...I know that is tough in the middle of nowhere. It sounds like you are having a great time!