Winding roads and stunning scenery

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Geo: 31.0468, -7.12908

The sun rose this morning just after breakfast - more Moroccan flatbread pancakes smothered in jam and honey, hot boiled eggs and sugary milky coffee. Insulin levels sufficiently spiked, we climbed on aching legs to the roof and were greeted by the sun poking its head up above the valleys behind our hostel, iluminating the snowy peaks of Moint Toubkal in an ethereal glow. Sustained by the breakfast and the tranquility, we made our way back down to the village of Imlil. En route, we were treated to the sight of locals going about their business - riding their mules, collecting firewood and water. It had been a truly unique experience: to visit this village, steeped in history and frozen in time, and we felt very fortunate to have witnessed all that we did.

Our next destination would be the Unesco world heritage site of Ait Ben Haddou, a stunning location used for countless films, nestled between the High Atlas and the Ante Atlas Mountains. In order to get there, we would have to endure a 6 hour bus journey. However, we were assured that the scenery en route would be spectacular and would more than make up for the journey itself. This would prove to be true, as our journey took us along a pass that hugged the High Atlas Mountains for the majority of the trip.

As we retraced our journey along the road from the previous day, we were again fortunate to witness the beauty of the area. The High Atlas mountains formed a bony spine that ran the full length of the horizon, as far as the eye could see. In the foreground, lush green meadows spread out in front of us. Birds circled overhead and steep red mountain walls towered over us. Before long, we were out of the valley floor and beginning our steady climb to the top of the ridge. The road was an infinite series of hairpin bends, sheer rock face to our left and stomach churning drops to the right. We passed sections where landslides had carved deep smooth ridges into the cliff face, piles of shattered terracotta at the roadside - the van sometimes had to swerve to manoeuvre around them.

Ever present on the journey were the white mountains, whether surrounding us closely or like watercolours in the distance. Yet another of my preconceptions was shattered as we continued on our journey. I had imaged Morocco to be a dry, dusty, desolate place. However, our route took us past incredible lush green meadows, fronting gentle verdant slopes leading to snow capped peaks behind. I half expected to see a troupe of dancing nuns wondering how to solve a problem like Maria, so alpine was its appearance. It was a stark contrast to the muddy paths of the mountains themselves. I was also struck by how pristine the scenery had been up to this point - there was no litter. The occasional plastic bottle, presumably left by an inconsiderate tourist, occasionally blotted the landscape - but this was the exception rather than the rule. We climbed back up the narrow winding bends and traversed the Tichkar pass - built by the French and crossing the mountains at. Height of 2260m above sea level.

Soon the colours of the landscape began to change as we began the vertiginous descent down into the desert areas that were to be our home for the next few days. Although the white spine was ever present, the peaks were now a dark orange colour, dropping off into deep cracks in the landscape - in fact we drew parallels with the area surrounding the canyons of Utah and Arizona. The road was still a steep series of switchbacks, with mind boggling drop-offs on either side at times. En route, we stopped off at several breathtaking spots - at points the juxtaposition of the alpine landscape with the Canyonlands provided stunning photo opportunities - an opportunity not gone unnoticed by the entrepreneurial locals who has set up stalls selling tourist trap trinkets: rocks split open, crystals spelling from their bellies; carved stone idols and icons and fossils. Again, a polite , "No," was all it took to swerve their advances. As our journey approached lunchtime, we passed shepherds dozing next to their grazing flocks their traditional cloaks and wide-brimmed hats providing shelter from the harsh midday sun.
We stopped for lunch in a small roadside cafe, unlike any roadside stop I had seen before. It was tranquil, pretty and had sweeping views of the surrounding area. We were directed to a roof top terrace where we were read the menu: meat, fish or vegetarian - skewers, tagine or omlette. It was simple, delicious fayre and set us up for our long drive into the desert. Before we left, we were told by Mohammed that we would need to purchase a headscarf for the desert. Stacey and I were both dressed to impress by the stall owner who took it upon himself to wind the headscarfs around our heads, leaving us looking like a poor man's Lawrence of Arabia - perfect for our sojourn to the desert over the following days. The only problem with the headscarves is that they are swelteringly hot and in the 38 degree heat of the desert, they look set to be a killer. However, fashion must come before comfort and thus, we shall ensure!

Soon we were back on the road, finding ourselves in yet another Hollywood inspired location. Instead of nuns, this time, I envisaged John Wayne and Clint Eastwood galloping across the rocky plains, dry grasses and cactuses dotting the russet ground. The landscape gently undulated away with the red rocks as a background. It really did contour images of the Wild West and was once again, a complete contrast to the scenery that had gone before. I have never visited a place which has so many different landscapes in such a small area - there really is something for everyone in Morocco.

Eventually, after five hours in the road. We arrived at our destination for the night - a family run riad with stunning views from the terrace over the intoxicating Ait Ben Haddou. If nothing else, this trip and taken us to accommodation with some of the best vistas we could have hoped for - well done Intrepid! Ait Ben Haddou, as well as being the setting for films including Gladiator, Jewel of the Nile, Lawrence of Arabia and American Sniper, it is an important historical and cultural site, being the location for one of higher major stopping off opines for the trade caravans that used to pass through. A series of labyrinthine passageways and ornately carved mud-rock, it was a bustling fortified village as recently as the 1930s. Set next to a river, its pathways twist and turn, leading you higher and higher to the eventual summit, which stands around 150m above the entry bridge. From this vantage point, you have 360 degree views out across the mountainous desert around, but it is the view of the citadel itself from the banks of the river that is truly arresting. We stopped off at one of the small artisan stalls, where a painter was using natural materials to create desert landscapes. When he held the painting over an open flame, the tea he was painting with turned the camels he had created into deep brown silhouettes, contrasting with the vibrant blues of the figures and the pale yellows of the dunes.

We continued downwards over gargantuan steps, our calf muscles straining at the exertion, towards the river banks. Here we were met with a huge gateway, the original gate way to the town. This was the place where the plane was flown through in Jewel of the Nile, and where the African training ring for Gladiator was filmed. Our guide thought it would be prudent to leave the relative safety of the new bridge that spans the river and instead rely on the makeshift stepping stones that had been crudely constructed from sandbags. The river flowed dangerously between them, creating rapids which would have been treacherous to fall into. "Don't put your hands in the water," he warned. I had no intention of putting any part of my body into the muddy water! Fortunately, a gang of local boys came to our rescue, holding in hands as we navigated the islands. Once safely, over, we wound back up through streets that would not have looked out of place in Harry Potter and the Moroccan Kasbah - so like a Berber Diagon Alley they were, and back to the cool haven if iur hotel. Here we enjoyed another feast of delicately scented cous cous and fiery Harissa with pillow-soft bread and fragrant vegetable soup. Then, after a tiring day, it was time for bed and plenty of rest for another epic odyssey through the region tomorrow.

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Comments

[Naveed]

Wow... You have inspired me toExplore morocco!! Enjoyed reading that very much xxx