When we left our overnight stop on the riverbed in Tissint, we had a short drive to Tata the next morning. We had decided as it was many weeks since the truck had last been washed and we were plastered in Saharan sand, that we would pull in at a petrol station to fill up, then use one of the full size truck wash bays that all service stations seem to have. As we suspected the attendant performed the washing (all fuel is dispensed by an attendant too). He used a very high powered jet wash to blast away all the sand from the chassis and sides of the truck, by the time he’d finished there was a thick covering of sand across the whole wash bay. As he used no shampoo etc (the norm here it seems), as soon as it dried we looked dusty / dirty again but at least we’d lost a few kilos of sand from all round.
We’d heard from Charlotte and Stuart (@Orkneyoverlanders) that some of the people we’d met were heading this way and sure enough, as we turned left into the road to the campsite in Tata, Dave and Amy (@the_day_we_ran_away) are just pulling out of the same junction. They confirmed that the water was good at the campsite to fill up the tanks, but they were a day ahead of us and off to Tafraoute.
We found one of the few spaces remaining in the campsite, which turned out to be next to Steph and Katharin from @ausfahrt4x4. We said our hellos to them and exchanged a few stories of our separate desert crossings before getting on with the job of a complete service of the vans, stripping beds, laundry etc. We also popped into town for another tagine, to add to our countrywide tasting tour. The smiling friendly owner also decided to teach us how to pour mint tea properly – add sugar into the pot (it’s very bitter without), then pour into the glass, then from the glass back into the pot about three times to stir, each time pouring from the pot at a suitable height to aerate the tea.
After two loads of washing were washed and dried on the line we’d rigged up from the truck to the trees behind us, we could finally relax in the sunshine.
The next day, we were keen to leave the busy campsite. Since the new year, I’d really started to worry about how soon we are due to ship to Canada for our PanAmerican Highway adventures (end April 24). We had originally planned to get home at the middle of March to prepare, but have now decided to head north a bit sooner to give ourselves more time. So, instead of turning to do Plage Blanche and a 40km journey along the beach, we turned north to Tafraoute. We will definitely come back to Morocco, as we have loved our time here and we can leave some things to look forward to on our next trip.
The drive to Tafraoute through the Anti-Atlas was spectacular. First down an R-grade rural road, then to a single track P-grade road, which is prone to closures due to landslides etc. Luckily we were able to drive the full length, though sometimes over the scars of previous damage. The Anti-Atlas have just as much wow factor as the High-Atlas, with deep gorges, multiples colours of rock and fascinating ring patterns, ridges and formations which tell a little of the forces involved in creating this range. Villages are far and few, often in seemingly precariously high or low valley spots. We passed over a col at about 1800m, as often seems to be the case, it was recognisable by the mobile phone mast at its peak.
Finally we entered Ameln valley towards Tafraoute, winding our way through the villages to finally enter the beautifully well kept town of Tafraoute in amongst the red mountains beyond. There are several campsites, but also at the edge of town an area of several hectares in the end of the valley where campers and overlanders congregate. Dave and Amy were already parked up here and we found a level spot not far away and set up camp. Each evening an attendant collects 15MAD (£1.18) and provides a coloured ticket. Even in Marrakesh, we paid only 90MAD (£7.08) per night with swimming pool, shop and restaurant on site.
We’d thought of staying a couple of days, but that turned into 4 days. The weather was glorious, in the mid twenties Celsius (cooler as we were at 1000m altitude) with clear blue skies. We got to visit the Wednesday souk (market), complete with fruit, vegetables, local honey, spices, nuts, fresh herbs, pots, pans, clothes as well as chicks, hens, goats and sheep, even a couple of very unhappy looking mallard ducks.
We very rarely seem to stop and take the time to relax in the sun, but in Tafraoute we did just that. We had shared beers in the evenings with Dave and Amy, multiple Tagines, couscous, harrira (local soup) and mint teas. The enterprising locals provide every possible service to your door, fresh bread / croissants delivered twice a day, water in IBCs, laundry, pancakes, cakes, fresh eggs, tagines and mechanical services all offered with a smile and a refusal happily accepted without hassle.
There was all manner of motorhomes and overlanders of all shapes, sizes and nationalities from tents and 4×4’s with rooftop tents to a massive £1.4M six-wheeler Action Mobile HGV which parked right beside us. It was fun just watching the world go by, whilst greeting other travellers we’d met before and new ones.
We provided our usual commission-free tours of our truck. Hoite and Sandra (@roadtrip2adventure) from Holland, now living in Spain were especially excited to see a Krug, having been looking to get their own for the last couple of years. I think Hoite may have persuaded Sandra the benefits of our smaller Project Rhino in their range. They like us were upgrading from a Mercedes Sprinter conversion and could see the benefits in something more manoueverable than the big rigs.
When our usual waiter at L’Etoile du Sud restaurant told us about Amazigh (Berber) New Year celebrations for the Berber year 2974 due on Tuesday, we were sorely tempted to stop even longer. However, we have given ourselves about a month to get home and felt we should keep moving. It was also time to top up alcohol supplies which meant a trip to Agadir.
It was another great drive to Agadir, eventually dropping down from the Anti-Atlas to the plains with the very distant High Atlas visible beyond. However Agadir itself appears to be one long conurbation merging with Biougra, Lqliâa, Drarga and several other towns to make one long sprawl along the coast. The busy traffic and built up urban areas felt like quite a shock after so long in the desert and rural areas of the south and east.
We made sure the girls were cool in the truck before heading into Carrefour for a shop. This time the alcohol section was a sub-part of the main shop, though confusingly with its own tills and you are not allowed to take your trolley in. They had nearly all local products so we are on Casablanca and Flag beers and Moroccan wines which are surprisingly good, a sign of the French influence I imagine. The pork products were also kept separately in area beside it.
We picked up what we needed and departed as quickly as possible. It registered 33 degrees on the dashboard when we left, luckily though the cabin itself stays nice and cool even in these temperatures and we did not even need to use the Aircon. Apparently Morocco is in a state of drought for the last 5 years with the second biggest dam (Al Massira) at 1.02% of capacity, the lowest since it was inaugurated in 1979 and record January highest temperatures are occurring throughout this week especially on this westerly coast where we are.
We pushed on to the coast and got our first glimpse of the Atlantic coast line as we left Agadir, now on our final leg north of our circumnavigation of Morocco. We’d chosen a campsite as we hate being moved on when we are camped up in the evening and all reports are that the police patrol the coastal areas frequently in the evening to do just that. However, we could see from the gates that the campsite was crammed full and decided to go back to some rough ground near a police checkpoint which seemed to be full of vans.
We pulled up and paid the quite probably self-appointed guardian our 20MAD (£1.57) and parked up. I’d been checking on Park4Night and there were reports from only a week before about police moving people on at night. We decided to ask around. Almost immediately we got out the van an Italian guy who was parked up behind us came over and started gesturing at us. And talking in rapid Italian It was unclear what he wanted and we had not even decided we were staying, we apologised and carried on. Some Dutch motorhomers came over and said we were fine where we were, they’d not been there long but had not had any visits from the police.
Next thing we know, the Italian guy has pulled up so close to our truck that we would have struggled to open the cabin door. I should add this is a very big piece of ground with easily room for another 100 vans. Kevin saw red and went over to tell him what he thought. His friend who spoke English came over and said something to do with he had only moved from his spot (which we were now in) as he was losing water and wanted to be next to his Italian friends. Meanwhile after retreating in the face of Kevin’s response, he has now gone to the attendant to get him to tell us to move.
We have had a long day, it’s 30 degrees still and we are not in the mood for unreasonable Italians who feel they have ownership of a free waste ground area. However, we move over slightly to our left to ease the situation. When we did this, one of the Dutch ladies come round to ask us to move again. We are further apart from both vans than you would normally get on a campsite and frankly have had enough of this whole situation. We get a refund from the attendant who apologies for the hassle and drive on. Only ten minutes up the road we find a spot next to sea with the sound of rolling waves. The sun is not far off setting and we can still see dozens of surfers bobbing around in the waves.
In for a Penney 