Early next morning a group of the quaddies set off to explore the local area after which peace resumed once more and I prepared my bike for the day's ride. In such dusty conditions oil does more harm than good on the chain and with a rocky route ahead I dropped the tyre pressures slightly before setting off with oranges and 3 litres of water towards the Jbel Saharo whose tough terrain had thwarted my ambitions in 2015 and led to us limping home with suspension trouble.
The GPS showed the track accurately and after a steep climb I had a panoramic view in to the palm lined valley with its string of dusty villages. It was a pleasure to ride through and meet people, at one stage I raced a youngster whilst balancing his tiny brother on my crossbar much to their amusement and after a couple of hours reached a spot where I had camped 4 years ago. It was even at that time just a dusty patch of level ground with a couple of huts and a hole in the floor loo but now even this was gone but nearby a small brightly painted school was evidence of this nation's determination to improve the lot of rural communities, especially the largely illiterate girls and womenfolk.
A Merc bus full of people and goods with at least half a dozen guys on the roof was lumbering along the track and all gave a friendly wave as we passed in the dust. Later the quad brigade roared in but were soon all tucked away in their vans and peace reigned once more.
Another short hop took me back to Camp Serdrar south of Tazzarine, a place that is always good to return to but this time I wanted to make use of their new washing machine to deal with accumulated laundry. The site was fuller than last time but the modest dimensions of the van saw me tucked away beneath the palms in a quiet corner. Leaving the washing to dry I rode back out to the road and then headed west for about 15km on a piste that was rough to begin with but much improved as it followed a palm lined valley via sandy track. The isolated village of Ait Ouaazik is the site of 'prehistoric rock carvings' claimed to be some 5000 years old and whilst the simple images of antelope, giraffe, rhino, fishing baskets, a sundial and basic hunting weapons were fascinating I'm pretty sure that they had at the very least been 'enhanced' with a modern pointy thing. Anyway the young guy in his stone hut was very pleasant and explained the images very well - he also answered my question as to what was growing in the area that needed polythene cloches in such heat - namely watermelon whose early growth needs protection from the cool overnight temperatures. Further research later revealed that Morocco is the world's 12 largest producer of watermelons with most of the 50,000 tons exported to France and production increasing by 250% in recent years - amazing considering that it is presumably a water dependent crop.
The following day I rode the few hot miles over the hammada to Tazzarine for a tagine at the excellent small cafe we used last time and returned mostly via the smooth tarmac until a point where using the GPS I cut across the desert to reach Serdrar having lopped 4 miles off the journey.
Back on the road I had met an Australian architect from Melbourne, Jack, who was cycling from Marrakesh to Prague over the next few months - we had a good chat and I offered him a lift across to Spain if our dates coincide as I will have a spare return passenger ticket.
On leaving Tazzarine I wasted some time returning towards Nkob as I had been told there was a new road across the Djebel Saharo heading north but I found no trace of it so took the standard route over to Tineghir, stopping only to exchange a gas bottle - some outlets seem tied to a specific supplier but others will exchange any brand but it would seem Total is a fairly popular one and of course their filling stations would stock it. A diesel top up confirmed a steady mpg in the mid forties and I pulled in to the Hotel Atlas once more only to find it more or less full. Not wishing to be squeezed in I decided to head up the Todra gorge and seek an alternative at Tamtatouchte. After securing the Go Pro to the windscreen and hooking up via wifi and the app to my phone I set off up this impressive gorge noting en route that the cluster of live in vans from last time had moved on - perhaps the local gendarmes had decided that the precedent might harm the tourist trade.
Work on the new dam was progressing and in the village I took a steep rough track up to a partly finished hotel and camping area that had the most remarkable view back over the village but little else going for it. The friendly owner showed me round the hotel which may one day be stunning if it gets finished - certainly the ensuite rooms he showed me were of a good standard.
He brought tea over and then pointed out the limit to which the dam waters were expected to reach, some agricultural land and a few homes would be lost but he felt the benefits to the area as a whole would outweigh this.
It was a superb vantage point and I scanned the village with binoculars watching the life on the flat roofs that is rarely seen, noting shepherds bringing their flocks down from the rocky slopes to the south and watching a young couple booking in to a basic looking auberge whose rooms were unlikely to be as cosy as the van would be that night. At around 5000' the nights were fresh and the heater kept me comfortable in the evening and first thing before the sun warmed things up after eight.
With far less snow on the tops than on previous visits I had no qualms about taking the Tizzi Tirherhouzzine that reaches almost 9000' and was pleased with the sturdy power of this van that took the ascent mostly in third - the previous van had also coped but needed frequent changes down to second or even first.
I stopped to offer assistance at a broken down car at the top of the pass - they had not checked their coolant, boiled over and by the lack of compression on turn over had clearly blown the engine. With little else to do other than leave them 5l of drinking water they were facing a lengthy wait for assistance which they were busy arranging by phone - again the network availability across Morocco is remarkable.
Soon after Agdoul I reached Imilchil and 5km north of there pulled in to the superbly located but somewhat careworn Auberge Tislite whose sole but major attraction was its location on the shore of the beautiful Lac Tislite. I parked up on the shoreline with a remarkable view across to distant peaks and the water a brilliant shade of blue. There was a fresh wind but I parked to give me a perfect view with shelter, opened up the solar panel and enjoyed a few hours in the sun after a spectacular drive.
Overnight temperatures dropped below freezing so I was glad to have secured the thermal screens around the cab windows and doubled up the down sleeping bag but a bright day dawned once more as I set off around this lake to head towards the larger Lac de Isa. Here I met group of Moroccan lads from Casablanca who were on a camping trip but had been very cold overnight camping by the first lake.
Again it was a very beautiful scene and I followed the track for a few more miles before it dropped down a valley crossing the stream several times before after a short gorge a small village appeared, miles from anywhere. I decided to explore further another time and returned to the van passing a few shepherds, women collecting brash for firewood with their donkeys and a large French 4x4 camper based on the Iveco Daily.
I woke after another comfortable night despite sub zero temperatures on my 59th birthday and enjoyed contact with friends and family before taking a series of tracks down and round to Imilchil where I celebrated with a hefty meat tagine and met the camping lads who were heading home. The busy village has on the outskirts a mobile medical unit and it was sobering to see the many people queueing patiently outside for medical care, we take our own access to top quality health care for granted and I was quietly grateful for the interventions that sorted me out 8 years ago and Mandy only last year.
Reluctantly on the Saturday I headed north and down on a sinuous road that after a couple of hours reached the main road linking Fes and Marrakesh. Turning right brought me in to Khenifra for a cash point and surprisingly a modest Carrefour supermarket where the range of goods came as a sharp contrast to the last few weeks buying fresh meat, fruit and veg plus bread, milk and yoghurt from the markets and village shacks. It struck me that much of what we buy at supermarkets is mass produced, usually highly processed junk food that is largely unnecessary so I was glad to throw in the biscuits, Pringles and some camembert as life's too short!
I had decided to head for the lake up in the cedar forests of the Middle Atlas mountains and climbed steadily away from Khenifra before turning left to Aguelmame Azigza where I had stayed on my first trip in 2013. It was as lovely as before but the nomadic Berber families were very much settled in around the lake with their livestock, tents and belongings so I felt it inappropriate to intrude and retraced my route for a couple of miles to a large level grassy clearing in the woods that was a popular picnic place for families from Khenifra. It was a great atmosphere as children played whilst parents cooked on open fires but as the sun set everyone left leaving just myself and a couple of live in trucks tucked away. One family had managed to flatten their battery playing music so I nipped across with the jump leads and they were soon on their way.
It was a memorable place to stay the night and with no urgency to my timetable I decided to stay another day and used the GPS to plan a route following the many forest tracks on a roughly 35 mile circuit. As I was re inflating my tyres as I expected to be on mostly hard surfaces two young boys came over very shyly and showed me their rather soft footballs - the look of sheer delight as they became far more footy friendly was worth a million dirham and their Dad called out gratefully as I headed off.
The ride was superb passing a couple of lakes where Berber families were in residence - behind each tent was an enclosure of thorn branches for the overnighting of livestock - and I noticed a well with windlass was alongside each camp. The ride followed a long fertile valley before climbing back in to the hills and after several rewarding hours I was back as the last of the families were departing. I noticed a German lorry head towards the Aguelmame and sure enough he was back shortly and pulling in rather closer to me than absolutely necessary given the size of the area available. However they were very quiet and we had a good chat in the morning - they have been over for 8 weeks and were also heading slowly north.
I took the mountain roads towards Azrou that had been cold and snowy 6/7 weeks ago and stopped briefly at a point where a troupe of shy Barbary apes were skittering around in the tree tops before arriving at Camping Amazigh that had looked so bleak in the hail and sleet. It was now warm and sunny and I took the opportunity to give the van a good clean, especially the shower enclosure as I had opted for hook up and had plenty of hot water on tap. The loo was emptied and water tanks filled as I didn't anticipate using a site for a few days but I had a poor night's sleep thanks to a distant dog that yelped from dusk till dawn and then didn't make a sound.
I took a very indirect route from Azrou to Meknes by heading west and then north via Oulmes passing through a very different scenery strangely reminiscent of the Yorkshire Wolds with dry limestone valleys, rolling hills and almost no traffic. At one point we had to wait as two tractors struggled to recover an HGV from a ditch but before long I was on the outskirts of Meknes slightly concerned about dealing with city traffic after so many weeks out in the sticks. However the city is well laid out and I was soon following the huge walls of the Royal Golf course that form part of the Imperial Palace as directed by various soldiers to reach after a very tight right turn through an arch the area that serves as an aire for Meknes. The parking gardien asked me to wait a few minutes until a space was vacated after which he saw me in to a tight spot tucked between a large Iveco 4x4 camper and a German motorhome. At 50MAD a night (£4) with such good supervision from the many guards, soldiers and police it appeared to be an excellent spot for a couple of nights. The report on Meknes will appear next time, possibly from Spain as I leave this amazing country within the week.
Photos re the foregoing appear here.
Long term readers will be familiar with my involvement with the event below : last year was a no show for me but I aim to be back in time to attend this year. I will probably be lurking around the campsite ensuring everything runs smoothly and may even give a presentation or two.
It is a well run and hugely enjoyable event with good discounts for signing up early.
Have a look at the website and make a date in your diary.
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