Morocco at last

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Well the time to travel to the Port for our crossing to Tanger Med is upon us, and for some strange reason I am anxious, Graeme as always as cool as a cucumber. Now whether it was the response from a lot of people we met ‘Will you be safe!?!?’ Or the plethora of bits of paper we now have for Poppy to ensure we can get her back into Spain I don’t really know.

So I am pleased that the 8am sailing carries virtually no Motorhomes (we think the French get the cheaper, later ferry). At the port you get the paperwork, effectively you have to import your vehicle and then export it when you leave Morocco, and for that they give you the smallest bit of paper you can imagine. Without we will not be allowed to leave Morroco with Harvey! This all goes more smoothly than I could have imagined. With our Insurance, also brought at the Port, some dirhams we are off, and I heave a sigh of relief.

Tanger Med the new port for Morocco is still expanding and the benefit of using it is it delivers you straight onto the Fast Toll road South, we see Tangier off to our right as we pass at a safe distance. And we are surprised! is this what we expected to see, well no, but then could we describe what we thought we would see, well No!?! We head to our first overnight stop at Asilah we see green in the fields, the hills, the woods and accompanied by waving Moroccans everywhere we wave back enthusiastically. We also spot camels, flamingos and goats with herders and I even spot one in a tree, climbing high to get at the tasty new shoots.

Asilah is a small town, probably most people pass though on their way South but for us it is a soft landing allows us to sort our phone sims out, we get a nice walk through a medina, Poppy gets her beach and we get to enjoy our first tagine. After two nights we feel ready to move on and Moulay Bousselham is our next stop, the campsite is a pleasant green space which sits on both a lagoon to one side and the crashing Atlantic at the other. We foray out for some fruit and vegetables found in alleys or more interestingly in the larger towns, souks (markets). The way to buy is to collect your plastic bowl and fill it with what you want, hand it over to the market stall holder, where they may just add random veg on top of what you have, as you’ve guessed it, its sold by weight, prices vary but for around 2kg of veg/fruit well pay about £3-4. Fennel, aubergines, cauliflower, and the oranges well we are eating those by the sack load! The entrepreneur types bring it right to your door, fresh fish, prawns, honey, soft fruit and of course bread, which we lovingly call a frisbee!?! Moulay is a very easy spot, relaxing, warm enough to start enjoying the early evenings outside, but Oulidia beckons.

Oulidia, pronounces Walidia is our first guardian parking, essentially a car park with someone who will ensure you and the van are safe, not that for one moment do we feel at all unsafe in this country. The opposite we are more warmly welcomed here than a lot of other countries. Our near neighbours are John and Julie, and we spend some time with them visiting our first real souk, here you can but anything imaginable and they really are a sight to be seen!!. Morrocco is as it’s inhabitants wealth grows are seeing a selection of Supermarkets, Marjane the morroccan one and not surprisingly Carrefour is now here, no doubt servicing the thousand of French Motorhomers who we find out come here every year to avoid the cold European winters. We will of course probably use one or two of these but the experience of going local is what drives us to appreciate this country as authentically as possibly as we can. Scary as it may be, and a little more French might help we are not deterred, and John and Julie ease us through our first experience. We spend days on the beaches which are close to hand, chatting, and getting to grips with the fresh fish we buy, and importantly plan the next week’s of visits prior to meeting up with Martin and Laura on the 22nd of Feb.

Our drive South takes us 10 days of some great and some not great locations, you lurch from love and hate, where there is wealth new roads, kerb stones , matching street lighting are being put in at a phenomenal rate, it makes us laugh though, the locals prefer still to walk in the road. The pace at which Morocco is building along the Atlantic coast with new condos, with such names as, Andalucía, Marbella beach gives you an indication of who they are trying to attract. We understand the Arabs are strong contenders and with prices of around £25-£30k per apartment I don’t think they will hang around, but only a revisit will see how Morocco does as tourist destination, and what difference it will make to those on the lower tier in regards to the haves and have not’s.

We now feel the need to move inland to get know the real Morrocco. Tiznit's campsite for the night is full and a short meander around the small town ensures this will not be a place we will be stopping long, like any other country there are just some places that grab your soul. The road becomes more interesting as we get towards higher ground, we are now heading into the Anti Atlas and Tafaroute nestled in the gorgeous Ameln Valley, surrounded by all sides by red granite mountains. A prosperous town with a yearly Almond festival, which it appears we have just missed. As we are to find out the only tree that seems to flourish here is the Almond, and luckily for us they are beautifully in flower, a soft white, soft pink and darker pink all make a mixed confetti when we depart to go South. Our second day we take to the bikes and head out to the Pierres Bleues, (painted rocks) the work of Belgium artist Jean Verame. Verame painted the smooth found boulders in shades of blue,red,purple and black in 1984,repainted several times since are not to everyone’s taste, but we liked them and cycling through the landscape was pretty good too.

We decide to make a southern loop down the R106 and return via the newly opened R107, in years gone by these passes would have needed a 4x4 but now we get to enjoy the vistas, our first spotting of wild camels, smaller than others we think. We take time out at Icht at a small campsite , on the edge of a Palmerie. Wandering around these little oasis’s you start to get a real idea of life as a local, donkeys loaded with green shoots walk between the palms on dusty tracks, likely taking there load to market, the horse ploughing the field and neat mud boxes created to withhold precious commodity water! We understand it hasn’t rained in these parts for a year, and yet green shoots are thriving all to the reliance of a well and pumps. The real Morocco is starting to show itself.

Our plans had to go back to the coast for a few days, but we are so taken by the Palmerie and easy walking opportunities at Tafaroute we decide to head back there for another couple of nights, we didn’t get to see the town, known as the shoe capital, some purchase may need to be made, and there is a Hammam in town which I am keen to try. And we are following Terrys advice “what ever you do, take Morocco slowly” and that is the sort of advice we like.

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