We woke to the sounds of the waves on the shore at Desert Point, a popular surfing spot. Kev took the dogs on a walk through the wooded area and saw there were even more vans parked up along the shore. It seems to be a rare area of permitted wild camping along the Atlantic shore, or the police just clear different areas each night. Either way, as we have found in other surfer camp-ups they don’t seem to have facilities in their vans and Kev passed someone about to squat outdoors whilst walking the dogs, we were happy to move on.
We decided it might be best to go to a campsite next as it was another surfer beach at Sidi Kaouki we were visiting. The host Ali was very welcoming and quite a character, he tried to persuade Kev we could pay him for camping with our truck tyres 🤣 Unfortunately within an hour of arriving there was a big dog fight in the middle of the campsite amongst the twelve or so stray dogs roaming which was dispersed with a few aimed stones. Not nice, especially as Lola had chosen this week to come in season 😱.
However, we did manage to sneak out for some lovely morning dog walks along the lovely long Atlantic beach. We watched the local fishermen in wetsuits with some admiration, tackling the big Atlantic swell sat in inner tubes, trying to get beyond the waves to fish. A couple had made it over and were bobbing along the shore with rods already, even though it was only just past dawn. Three more were trying to find a gap in the waves to get out and about another ten were stood on the beach to see how the others fared getting out, as the rollers were pretty big after recent strong winds.
After a couple of days though it was time to move on, as we had been meaning to get into the seaside town of Essaouira. We called in at the Carrefour first for a couple of bits we had forgotten on our last visit and found on our way there that the whole town seemed to have no motorhome parking signs up. Apparently due to problems in the past, again many of the park-ups report police arriving to move you at night. So we opted for a campsite just outside town which was really well reviewed.
The Spirit Nature campsite turned out to be a lovely haven, no stray dogs, miles down a rutted track, only for the determined. The truck floats along roads like this with its chunky tyres but it must cause a terrible rattle in most motorhomes. Infact, once we’d got parked up Kev got chatting to a Scottish couple in an older Concorde that had broken down due to a gear selection problem and had been pushed 1km by 20 local guys before being towed 20km by a tractor to get there. The lady was still recovering from the bumpy track tractor tow down the track a week later! They remained there waiting for parts.
The first night, we had to try the tagines provided at the campsite as they offered a dromedary option. Camel meat is apparently very healthy, 98 calories per 100g (compared to 150 calories for beef) and only 1g of fat (per 100g) compared to 5g for beef. The fat is stored in the hump and I believe if you are buying the meat from a butchers, the fat lump is displayed alongside and a piece of that is usually purchased at the same time to cook it in.
Our tagines (mine vegetarian- I’m a wimp) were served pool side that evening with a particularly delicious bottle of red from the Val d’Argan vineyard nearby. It was set up by a French man 27 years ago and the results are impressive. It turned out some of the local wine we’d bought at Carrefour were from also from their vineyard too. We’d actually had our first rain since France that afternoon, though it only lasted an hour or two and cleared up in time for our delicious meal.
The next day was busy with two loads of washing to do and line dry as well as a taxi trip into Essaouira. We really liked the fishing town of Essaouira, Kev got a tour of the local fishing techniques from a local fisherman, the 1km long shark fishing lines, pots for octopus and nets for lobsters and spider crab. It was very similar species to what Kevin used to catch in Cornwall and he shared some of his fishing photos and also got a tour of the very stout beamy fishing boats they use here.
Into the Medina and along the town walls for some lovely views of the waves crashing on the shore and the lines of canon pointed out to sea to defend the town. We found a lovely seafood restaurant for lunch for a nice piece of John Dory and some squid for lunch, having sussed what were the best local catches on the small stalls by the harbour.
The shops and stalls of the medina were bustling, colourful and varied. We actually enjoyed the town souk more than the more touristy Marrakesh. This is definitely an area used by locals and tourists. The only disappointment being we missed the big market which is held on a Sunday where everything is traded including livestock and camels. Although we passed some sort of market when we left town with lots of very skinny poor looking horses parked up outside and I was happy to miss the sight of that on a bigger scale.
When we left Tafraoute a week ago, we felt like we really ought to get home soon to sort ourselves out for our PamAmerica trip. We have since received snowy photos from home and somehow we now seem to be dawdling in getting north! We had quite a nice social time on the Spirit Haven campsite meeting a few people, including a family of four @thecrafter.crew, who had sold up in the UK and were I think 18months into their travels with their 11 and 14 year old in a VW Crafter conversion. They all seemed to be getting on well still despite a recently van recovery from Spain to the UK after gearbox issues where the negotiated their 5 week hotel stop (as they live in their van) would be in Canada instead of the UK! Callam and Ethne had some great stories to share over a beer.
Another UK couple came over, the lady having grown up only a few miles away from Kevin. They had been trying to drive to her partner’s native South Africa in their panel van conversion to set up permanent camp on some land they had bought there. However, they had gotten as far as Guinea before visas and road conditions turned them back. They’d come to see us for some shipping advice instead as the UK van jungle drums had told them to head to us. We gave them some extra shipping contacts and some advice on pet travel etc. from our own research.
After a couple of nights we thought we should shake ourselves to move again though, helped by the presence of a 12km long lagoon up the coast full of oysters (Kev’s favourite) in Oulidia. We thought it would be 2-3 hour drive, but with took most of the day. We’d decided to take the more coastal local road rather than the toll road (first we have encountered here).
Unfortunately the tarmac was often only wide enough for one lane, but in order to be fair about who gets what share of the road, they just put a line down the middle. There is compacted stone either side to pass but often the edge of the tarmac forms a jagged kerb a couple of inches or more high, which tries to grab the steering wheel from you if you run along it. Obviously on this route there also had to be a large quarry three-quarters of the way to Oulidia meaning there was steady supply of big trucks coming from the opposite direction to squeeze by! We also had to dodge 2 tortoises crossing the road, surely quite a Morocco-specific hazard.
We had not filled up with water in the last campsite due to the proximity of the supply hose to the black water drain which is rather off putting, so we pulled in at the campsite in Oulidida. We finished filling up from their one potable water tap, which was the nicest water so far and parked up. Within an hour, we were completely double parked in by the stream of incoming motorhomes behind us. However, we had not stopped for lunch and it was 4pm, so we didn’t really care and just wanted to get some food.
The next day, we had planned to venture into town for some seafood. There had been some seriously heavy rain overnight from about 3am which carried on until lunch, with only a brief respite about 8am when we managed to get the dogs out. About 12:30 it cleared again and I popped out with the dogs before we left them to go for lunch. However, whilst we were out, Kevin had a knock on the truck door from a nice Swiss lady. We were, unusually, the only overlander truck on the campsite and they had got stuck on the grass. There was a lovely lawn in front of our truck a novelty in Morocco, which as the arrivals streamed in the evening before, they had been parked up upon. The subsequent rain had made the spring sea-grass area really marshy.
When Kev arrived, the surrounding 15 or so spectators all offering opposing advise and equipment had succeeded only in digging in all 4 wheels, two with strange jointed traction boards wrapped round them in the mud. To cut a long story short, we spent the afternoon in recovery mode. The owner, probably sensibly did not want to be towed out by the rear axle, having no rear recovery point, as the chassis on a lot of motorhomes is relatively weak and prone to damage. Instead, the recovery scaffold boards we have been carrying on the roof for just this purpose, despite the confused and curious looks they get, came into play. Three wheels had to be jacked up onto the boards using our 10 tonne jack after their scissor jack bent on the first wheel.
The young Swiss family of 5 were mightily relieved to hit tarmac again. We had to rig up a rolling road of scaffold boards to get across the bog-like grass. Although, just as the wheels hit the slightly firmer grass near the tarmac, a 4×4 German Sprinter was directed right across their path! The collective screaming of the twenty people now watching / helping did not seem to perturb the driver as he stopped directly in their path. I must admit that I may have slightly screamed at him that we had spent hours digging this guy out and could he please shift. He just stopped and grinned at me! I could have screamed, but we managed to move him on and thankfully they had not sunk back in but managed to make it to the tarmac and drive onto hard standing to park up.
No photos taken as it was not our drama and we were rather busy! It did seem amusing though in Morocco, where we have negotiated vast tracks of desert for some of our recovery gear to be used first on wet grass!
In for a Penney 