Moroccan Finale

 From my eyrie above the Tizi'n Test I headed north passing the Tin Mal mosque where the restoration had made some steady progress. I had thought to stop there but as it was early I carried on down through Ourigane and took the turning west to Amizmiz. Almost immediately I spotted a nice stand of well spaced pine trees used as a picnic area and decided it would suit me very well for a lay up. The shade was welcome as the temperatures approached 40 degrees and I walked up to the small village later on to buy bread and a huge melon. I spent a very relaxing couple of days with shepherds passing, locals stopping to chat and a walk up to the dam of the nearby reservoir.

 

I also headed off to Amizmiz stopping at a font for water but found nowhere nicer above the lake so was back amongst the trees later that day. The following morning a tortoise emerged to enjoy some vegetable scraps before burrowing under the pine mulch to avoid the heat of the day.

On the Monday I tracked Mandy's flight down from Manchester before heading to the airport parking, stopping briefly at a small supermarket for a food top up, filling up with fuel and taking on board water from the car wash. the large empty parking was ideal for awaiting the evening flight and slightly ahead of schedule I walked over to the modern arrivals hall in the evening heat.

We decided to take some exercise and walked in to the local neighbourhood, ducked in to the backstreets and were immediately rewarded with that heady mix of noise, light, smells, vehicles and people all buzzing around the roadside stalls. We stopped in a cafe for drinks to soak it all up before returning to the parking for a good night's rest. I had noticed a number of UK plated cars jotted about on flat and perished tyres - all had long expired MOTs and tax with some having being dumped there for a decade or more. I guess people just fly out and forget low value wrecks but It's surprising that they are just left in situ.

The following day we headed out to Camp Zebra at the Cascades d'Ouzoud and whilst my previous pitch was occupied we took a nice one with plenty of shade and privacy. It was very hot so we stayed put until late afternoon and then walked down to see the falls and take tea on a cafe terrace where the local lads were absorbed in the footie on a large TV.  A sheet was all that was needed overnight and the next day we set off early to walk down to the cave at the confluence stopping at two lovely simple cafes down by the water's edge and returning past the string of shops and stalls on the one side of the gorge. A very relaxed group of monkeys were delightful - even a mother with a small baby was trusting enough to be photographed. The afternoon saw us in the pool again and talking to an amazing Dutch couple who had spent almost 20 years criss crossing the globe in a Land Cruiser camper. On our last evening we walked in to the village again for a delicious dinner half way down the gorge before another very warm night.

 

The natural rock bridge of Imi n'Ifri near Demnate was well worth the walk down and through with a local guy shovelling up the bird droppings in to bags as fertiliser and the worn and exposed steps adding some excitement before we headed east to take R203 towards the Ait Bougumez Valley. This is clearly an area to return to and spend more time in as we passed through numerous small villages with stunning mountains to the south, endless terraced fields and plenty of places to stop overnight.

We eventually passed over the Tizi n Ilisi pass at the snow line before dropping sharply down to Zaouiat Ahansal and pulling in to the Auberge Ahansal where we could park up on a level terrace surrounded by rose bushes. The facilities were excellent and we had a good look round the very beautiful accommodation and decided a meal in the remarkable dining room would be a good choice. A French group were also staying and we enjoyed a very good chicken dinner before a quiet night under starry skies.

 

From here I knew we could cautiously follow the R203 as it became a piste and threaded its way through the craggy mountains to arrive once more, for me, at La Cathedrale where a few Moroccan groups were also staying for the weekend. We parked in shade and set off to walk up to the summit passing a large flock of small black goats being tended by three generations of women. It was a good view back down to the river and van and further along at the summit some lads were set up with food and drinks - one was planning to stay the night for sunset and dawn photographs so had made up a sleeping bag and foam mattress. As we dropped back to the van we decided to give the ladies some coins as they looked pretty impoverished but turned away as I took out my camera where I keep notes stored.

The locals were enjoying themselves around camp fires on our return but it was all quiet by mid evening and we slept well before heading out to the Bin El Ouidane reservoir again. We stopped at the garage for fuel and water and made use of the jet wash to clean the bikes and van - a few lads were kicking a 5l water bottle around and were beyond delighted when on impulse I bought them a football from the garage. Staying out at above the water was as sublime as ever with a lovely sunset and the lights of tiny houses emerging across the water. Our road east towards Imilchil passed through more mountain ranges and after stopping for lunch in a very basic roadside cafe we pulled up at Auberge Tislit pleased to see that the lady in charge was back from her stay in hospital. Unfortunately she said that the lad who had been in charge during her absence had run off with the takings - he was the artist and I had asked him to do me a portrait so was glad not to have paid in advance. As always it was a great place to stay and a couple of other vans turned up with a few spread out across the lake and some Moroccans in tents on the disused campsite - surely a good business opportunity in such a stunning setting....We cycled off down the valley south of Imilchil and reached the end of the tarmac having been joined by an energetic and friendly group of boys on a real mish mash of old bikes. At the final village we got talking to an older guy who said that the valley continued west and would after a four day trek reach the La Cathedrale valley - something we later confirmed on the map - remarkable..... we had a good tajine in the village before,during our final night, the weather turned as forecast and it rained heavily with the temperature falling and to our surprise fresh snow on the higher tops next morning

Our route east towards Boumia took us high up in to the Atlas on a rough road with snow falling - at one point as we waited for a straw lorry to unload a guy asked us for a lift so we took him the 20 miles to Tounfite where he insisted we came to his house for refreshments. He directed us up a narrow side street and across a largely dry riverbed to his simple home where his rather surprised wife soon produced omelette and bread, he'd even nipped out for some fizzy orange juice for us and we felt very honoured to be in their humble home - he had five children and showed us the physics and maths textbooks in Arabic that he was using to study for a baccalaureate.

That night we stayed up amongst the cedar trees of the Middle Atlas - the rough and dusty tracks of recent weeks had taken their toll on the fridge and I think the exhaust flue has failed as the CO alarm kept activating. It will have to wait till I get back in August but still works on 12v when driving or hook up if on site so is not a big issue. The Trumastore water heater was also acting up but removing the second cowl seemed to resolve that for now.

We moved on to Azrou and stopped for a walk round and an excellent lunch in a smart cafe before pulling in to the Camping Amazig we had used before. However with no one around we returned towards town and decided to experience the bizarre Eurocampings set up. A huge and elaborate hotel with Disney style towers, a double gated arched entrance and extensive gardens provided camping up on the higher terraces with an enormous circular tent as a meeting place, elaborate loo facilities and what looked like a spacious owner's house even higher up. There were a few other vans there and we took a spot with hook up near a trio of 6 wheel drive French military style trucks. We walked back down to the hotel itself passing a sorry looking pool with a collapsed boundary wall and were invited in by a friendly guy with seriously deformed legs to look round the main buildings. It was absolutely amazing to be shown huge furnished suites with extravagant bathrooms, endless upholstered seats and benches, a huge but empty basement kitchen and a similarly bereft ballroom. Clearly the place had never opened since being completed a decade ago and would need a lot more spending on light fittings, linen, tableware and catering appliances - none of which seemed about to happen. We were at a loss to explain it all but enjoyed a quiet night overlooking the well tended gardens. 

 

We pulled in to Ifrane which felt very different to other places with clean wide boulevards, smart detached colonial houses and numerous hotels although many of these were empty or in disrepair. The king has his summer palace there and there is a large university but it really felt quite out of place and yet had a large number of tourist coaches stopping by.

A longish drive took us in to the Rif Mountains where at Taounate we turned off in search of a camping spot - the sat nav took us down some very rural tracks and through some tight hamlets with no sign of the correct location so we circled back on to tarmac and then spotted a sign in Arabic only that looked promising. A steep forest track climbed up for a mile or so before emerging above a lake overlooked by a number of Berber tents within a fenced off area. This was clearly Montazyfrane and the friendly gardien Abdelsamallah directed us to park up with the most amazing view. We stayed two nights and did a 30 mile ride round the lake which took in a fair few hills. In Taounate which is draped over several of these we had a fresh orange juice in a cafe where the locals were amazed to see a foreign face.

Back at the camp a group of retired bankers had been having a reunion and meal with a small band playing in the open air and a very happy atmosphere. We were a source of intrigue and plenty of people came over to talk to us whilst a drone hovered overhead. We had arranged to eat in the largest open fronted tent and enjoyed an excellent tagine with the tenderest meat as the sun set.

Moving on north we stopped at Targuist for a phone top up and emerged at the campsite at Kala Iris set above the small fishing port where recent heavy rain had caused a substantial landslide. We walked up the track I had arrived by a few years ago which had been very rough and was now almost impossibly slippery and indeed ended up pushing a local guy in his van that was struggling on an incline. After walking down to the port for a coffee alongside the main gate we watched the various fishing boats leave before dusk and noted the dramatic change in colour of the bay as the local red rivers entered the blue Med.

A showery day saw us ride down to the small bay at Torres de Alcala but we soon sought shelter in a small cafe as a heavy shower passed and decided to cut our losses. It cleared up enough to to ride up to the recently restored towers and as we headed back a large digger and two lorries were making good progress at removing the landslip.

 

A recently married Moroccan couple were in a tent and a German couple occupied a low roof T3 with an awning for extra space but we were grateful for more solid accommodation as heavy rain fell again. A wiry cyclist turned up as well and pitched his small tent in a corner but was away early the next morning. After 3 enjoyable nights we moved on too and headed along the coast road to El Jebha for food and grilled sardines in a coastal cafe. The Park4Night App had listed a small place in Oued Laou which we found tucked away at the end of a sandy track right by the beach. It was simply a parking area with a primitive loo but suited our needs and gave us the opportunity to walk in to the village, pick up the promenade and return via a cafe and for me a barbers for a much needed trim.

It was a lovely simple place to stay and worthy of a return - a Dutch couple in a Land Cruiser camper provided amusement by attempting to shower behind a makeshift shelter and we were pleased that less dust and perhaps some time on hook up had sorted out the water heater issue. The van has performed amazingly over the last 6 months and 7000 miles but I am aware that all the appliances and bathroom mouldings etc are now over 20 years old.

Moving on to Chefchaouen via the swooping coast road included a brief stop at another beach with an opulent well landscaped promenade - at one end the police and local security forces were supervising a group who were being evicted from some makeshift housing - with Ceuta the disputed Spanish enclave only a couple of hours north this may have been to do with managing potential migrants and was thought provoking.

Chefchaouen campsite was fairly empty and we took a pitch overlooking the town with EHU and near a huge French lorry that contained a family of four on a 5 year odyssey to save the planet and spread goodwill, according to their website - donations welcome.....

We walked down in to town noting that the Hotel Atlas was still closed up and enjoyed the familiar sights and sounds of the densely packed alleys in the old centre. From a cafe overlooking one of the squares we watched families enjoying fairground rides before taking the steep path back.The following day we walked down to the springs and took the path up to a mosque with good views across the blue town before dropping down and exploring parts new to both of us.

That night an impressive thunderstorm and torrential rain passed through but the morning dawned bright and sunny so we dropped down once more for a final look round as our departure for Genoa was looming. 

Tetouan was well worth a visit en route to Tanger with a a long bustling souk full of masses of fruit, veg, fresh fish, clothing and shoe shops, metal and woodworking shacks and a twisting mass of busy people. Out at Martil we had a huge salad overlooking the sandy beach and finally turned up at the port with an hour left on our 90 day vehicle insurance. We were a day early for the ferry but have been allowed to stay overnight and are now watching a large number of Italian registered vans lining up for the 55 hour journey to Genoa. Presumably they are importing Moroccan goods as all are hugly overloaded so no doubt customs will be busy.

It has been a fantastic return to to this amazing country and I hope to be back again before long - we have 3 weeks left together to cross Italy and drop in to Slovenia before Mandy returns home and I begin a slow loop home via Hungary, Slovakia and Germany.

All police, customs and vehicle export formalities, including the whole vehicle scanner have been accomplished so : that's it.......

 

More pics here.

Using The Atlas

Heading away from my location above the reservoir I stopped for fuel in Ouaouizaght and topped up my water tank before heading towards Tilouguitte on the R302 which looped round the drier reaches of the reservoir before climbing steadily over the col with good views across to the High Atlas to the south west. It was a decent surface that plunged in to the hillside village via a series of hairpins, wriggled through the town and then crossed the river at a point where the women were washing carpets and clothes and children were swimming in the gorge. Another set of hairpins and a final dusty village as the tarmac ran out put me right by the river on level gravel under the trees with the lofty and impressive Cathedrale looming over me.

 

This is a huge craggy buttress that rises perhaps 1500' above the river in dramatic fashion with its red hues, vertical crags and shrub lined ledges. I took a nose further along the valley but thought the track a bit too rough to pursue as it led through to the Ait Bou Goumez Valley and Agouti some 40 miles further on. The location alongside the river was sublime and to add interest there was an abandoned timber mill housed in a long shed with the remnants of the saw mill complete with 4' diameter blades, a thicknesser and other items - no manufacturers' plates remained but it all looked very dated and would presumably have processed the mainly cedars that clad the local slopes. 

 

An English girl and her Portuguese boyfriend were in a van by the river and remarkably further up was a small Eriba caravan and another van. It was a great spot and I was up early next morning to take the two and a half hour walk up to the summit. The path started off near a small gite, climbed steadily to a quirky art deco picnic spot and then began to get quite exciting as it approached the main bulk of La Cathedrale. Rough steps cut in to solid rock were followed by loose screes, steeper sections and then a scramble with a wire for reassurance on to a fairly wide ledge that ran around the cliff edge past some caves. There was a 500' drop on the one side and I would have preferred a wider ledge but eventually the path climbed steeply again via some rough steps to emerge half a mile from the summit with wonderful views back down to the van parked up way below. It was a remarkable vantage point in hot sunshine but a strengthening wind was heralding the arrival of thunderstorms from the west. Carefully returning via the same route I was back at the van after 6 hours having spotted a bright blue roller bird on a power line - hard to photograph but a beautiful sight. I spoke with the young couple for a while and prepared for a quiet night. However whilst it was still dry and sunny I could hear some significant storms away in  the distance and an hour later noticed tthat the river had turned a dirty brown colour, was carrying logs and other debris and was rising quickly. Then the heavens opened around us so I decided it might be prudent to move off the gravel flood plain so headed back to the track and then looked for a place to stay on higher ground. I took a side dirt track but torrential rain and hail rapidly turned this in to a slippery quagmire so I turned round, dropped back to the main track and crossed the bridge which confirmed that the river was indeed rising rapidly. With wipers on full tilt I reached tarmac and then climbed well above the valley floor before finding a side turn on to a level rocky patch that would do for the night. Tremendous thunder and lighning abated after a couple of hours and apart from one truck and a moped nothing moved that evening. Next morning dawned bright and sunny but the higher slopes had a white coating of snow and hail and as I returned to Ouaouizaght I could see that the higher ranges of the High Atlas had seen a significant fall.

Grateful not to have been caught out I spent a night back above the reservoir where a lovely old Moroccan guy turned up and told me a sorry tale of his ailing mother unable to afford medicines for heart trouble and his five children - he normally makes a living from catching fish but had been having little luck and with Ramadam demand was way down anyway. I was very moved and whilst slightly dubious asked how much the drugs would be. One hundred dirham was quoted but mindful of how fortunate I was to make a full recovery from my excitement over a decade ago now I gave him 400 and wished him and his family well. At this point he burst in to tears and embraced me tightly for many minutes whilst I reassured him that it was fine and he shouldn't be upset. Eventually he wandered off leaving me to feel very humbled yet again by these amazing people and their wonderful country. I had decided to approach the Ait Bou Goumez valley from the west so drove to the huge Bin El Ouidan dam and crossed it taking the road to Azilal. From here many miles of remote twisting tarmac took me through bizarre geology to reach a T junction with the R302 again. I turned east and dropped through remote Berber villages clinging to the rocky slopes beneath snow coverered summits and eventually arrived at Zaoulat Ahansal. From here it was only perhaps 30 miles back to La Cathedrale and the road was being upgraded so I decided to take a punt. After ten miles the tarmac petered out and yet again the van performed superbly on the last 20 miles of rough piste with loose climbs, washouts from the storms and many hairpin bends but after a challenging 90 minutes or so I was back at my riverside pitch against all expectations. In bright sunshine with the river still running a paler brown I followed its course and then a side valley up to a source where crystal clear water gushed out of a rock crevice. Back at the van a few Moroccan groups had arrived as the weekend saw the end of Ramadam but there was room for all and I had a peaceful night. Returning once more to Ouaouizaght I picked up some foodstuffs as the shops were selling well in readiness for Eid, the festival that marks the end of Ramadam, filled up with water again at the garage and then took up residence once again above the lake.

 

 

Later eleven young Moroccan guys arrived for their Eid party and invited me to join them for bread, salad, kebas and tea in what became a very memorable couple of hours as we swopped numbers and photos and enjoyed the superb location. I didn't want to intrude too much so left them to it and they eventually dropped down to the shore for a game of football. We said our good byes later and they drove off only for another family group to turn up for a sunset picnic - they also invited me to join them but I had already eaten too much so politely declined.

The next morning I took back roads through to the Cascades D'Ouzoud I had last visited on my first trip a decade ago and noticed that the corn crop was being harvested - hand sickled, tied in to bunches and then loaded on to donkeys to be taken home for hand threshing. I ignored the gestures of car park attendants to stop as I was heading for the Camp Zebra camping above town where the friendly patron offered me a choice of pitches as the place was quiet. I chose a shady terrace adjacent to a tap and with good views across the valley and an English couple for neighbours. They were also on a 3 month Brexit busting visit and looking at their onwards options for the end of April so were interested in our plans to sail to Italy. It was very hot so I took advantage of the shade and tap to do two loads of hand washing, strung a line between two posts and it all dried within an hour. I then walked down to town which was quietening down after the holiday weekend and walked to the top of the falls for a grandstand view of the multiple streams of water and the numerous terraced cafes and stalls across the gorge. Walking back to the site I enjoyed an ice cream from the womens' co operative stall and settled in to enjoy a quiet night.

Another scorcher dawned - Morocco was experiencing temperatures 10 degrees and more above normal and that same blast of hot air was setting records across in Spain, a complete contrast to the cold spells earlier in the year that had affected the horticultural scene. I enjoyed an hour in the pool and then took off for town again this time taking the path down through the terraced cafes and emerging out by the plunge pool where locals were bathing or taking a trip on the colourful barrel barges that edged under the falls to the delight and screams of passengers. I carried on down the gorge leaving people behind and passing ever more distant and run down camping options amongst the trees, they were very simple set ups and would provide for a magical if primitive experience. I then passed a small house before meeeting a group of lads who like me were trying to find a cave somewhere in the main gorge. Some rudimentary steps and ladders brought us down to the river and after some dead ends we spotted the small entrance into a surprisingly well decorated  chamber. It was a long hot walk back out of the valley so after finding the small bakery down a side street I stopped for tea in a shady terrace before another ice cream on the way back.

 

My new neighbour was a Swiss guy in a large Dodge RAM 5l truck with a camper body on the back which all looked very impressive and expensive - he had been down to Mauritania and said that out on the deep sandy tracks in the desert his plastic fuel filter had melted in the heat... Anyway we enjoyed wide ranging discussions in the evening cool and watched a French couple in a brand new Ducato struggle to reverse out of the dead end track below the site - much Gallic hand waving and colourful vocabulaire.

 

 

By now I began to doubt the viability of my intended trek as there had been no futher contact since an email giving very sparse arrangements about meeting up - stupidly I had actually deleted their email but felt that if they were any good they would have contacted me again with a kit list, guidance on clothing and the like. Thus I had an extra week to fill so decided to head back across the High Atlas via Demnate heading towards Ouarzazate as I thought a few days with Mahfoud and his friendly family back at Toundoute would be enjoyable. The beautiful road has again been much improved since my previous visit a decade ago and climbed majestically over the Tizzi N Outfi pass at 2150m with the bus pulling well. Just after Assermo I could have taken a back route to Toungoute but decided that welcoming as it was the auberge had little or no shade and I was planning to rest up for a few days. Thus I carried on down towards Ouarzazate and stopped for the night on a large gravelled area off the road and still high enough to be cooler. Below me in the distance the sun reflected off the impressive Noor solar power station - an indicator of where Morocco's future lies both for domestic use and international export.

It had been a straightforward enough route this time although the section from Tamzerit had yet to be upgraded and was still a narrow band of ragged tarmac with washed out riverbeds in the gorges but at least unlike 2013 there were no snowdrifts or icy patches. A large group of men pulled in during the evening and all produced prayer mats, faced east and began their ceremony - reminding me of a similar event a few years ago in the Brecon Beacons that at that time and location seemed a little suspicious. 

After a quiet night I dropped down to the N10, turned east and parked up in Skoura to stock up with food before pulling in to a camping area alongside the mighty Amahidil Kasbah. The site was almost empty but had a large bamboo and palm frond sun canopy that I could just park under which was perfect. A Portuguese guy in a tent with a van was also tucked away but didn't seem to be particularly sociable so I sat and read in the shade as dusk fell. Early next morning I was off to the Kasbah and explored its numerous rooms, levels and shaded courtyards - it was well worth a visit as the original layout and structure had been very well preserved and each room left to show its original purpose with the relevant equipment or furnishings. The cafe tucked away in a shaded courtyard was vey peaceful if a little overpriced so I returned to the van for a light lunch in the shade. Later on I jumped on the bike for a couple of hours exploring the extensive palmery - always an absorbing experience and then returned to talk to a French couple who had been cycle touring around Morocco for two months but actually lived in Tunisia. They recommended a visit but it's much smaller than Morocco so would perhaps only justify a month or two one day.

So after a respite from the continuing heat and with the trek definitely not happening I decided to stay on the south side of the Toubkal massif and see if a road we had seen several weeks ago would indeed lead up towards Lac Ifni. After a refreshingly varied, if expensive, shop at the Carrefour in Ouarzazate I headed towards the Tizzi n Tichka pass over to Marrakesh that we had gingerly crept over in a damaged van back in 2015 before taking a side road towards Sour. This passed a mining site that had covered everything in a thick black dust - not coal but I think possibly manganese and then climbed in to the hills with a number of far smaller one man band mines following what must be a substantial seam.

 

Eventually the tarmac turned south but my route lay north and for the next ten miles the van yet again proved immensely capable on a rough stony track through empty barren land. Eventually I popped out in Sour to join the road we had discovered almost two months ago after visiting Telouet and this brought me to Amsouzart, the turning to Imilhene and the way to Lac Ifni. I stopped for bread and then followed the narrow valley through some very humble villages with terraced crops and plenty of green trees and shrubs thriving thanks to the various streams gushing down from above.

It felt a bit like my visit to Nepal, cycling, almost 40 years ago now as I climbed up a steep and twisting road. Two Moroccan lads with rucksacks were heading the same way so I picked them up as their destination was still several miles ahead. They were from Taroudnant and had good English so when the road petered out near a rock and gravel but level area I got them to ask the two little boys who turned up if I could stay. Apparently that was fine and their Dad would come by later so I said goodbye to the guys as they headed up for a night by the lake some 3 miles and a 1000' further up a mule track. It was a spectacular location marking the spring line so bare rocks rose high above whilst spread out below the villages, terraces and crops looked magnificent. Dad spent some time watering his crops and a few trees but had obviously given the kids strict instructions to leave me in peace and the day ended with a cool breeze, amazing stars and a blanket stillness other than the stream cascading down across the valley. A friendly group of four in a hired 4x4 stopped for the view and were intrigued by the van and my situation, especially the one from Sydney when he heard about my visit there in 2010/11.

Next morning I was away after breakfast to follow the mule track away from the house towards Ifni. Several groups of workers were laying a better stone surface which made the going very easy so after just over an hour I reached the col for a view of the blue lake far below with the mountains of the Toubkal massif rising another 6000' above. The start of the route from the lake towards the western summit could be seen as it crossed a huge alluvial scree, again looking like the desolate valleys I had visited around Annapurna. Below the col a small tea shack was providing refreshment to a lively party of youngsters who had made it there and a couple of tourists who had taken a mule ride. I also met the guy from Sydney and one other from their group who had struggled a bit but were in good spirits and then eventually the two lads from Taroundant who had had a very enjoyable night - I promised to pick them up if I saw then again as I would be heading their way.

 

Back at the van I rested up and then walked down to the village for tea on a shady terrace - it was all very idyllic but would I am sure be very different in the winter months. I had to pull the bikes off to change a gas bottle - I should have checked back at Skoura as whilst I am not cooking much or heating a lot of hot water the fridge is working hard especially when I am parked for a few days so there is no cooling from the 12v split when driving. Later that evening the two little lads quietly and shyly came over and I let them have a look at the van but Dad appeared and seemed disproportionately cross with them so I felt a bit awkward and indeed on leaving the next day he still seemed very angry so I paid more than he asked and wished them all well. 

Dropping back to Amsouzart I picked up bread and two gas refills before the couple of hours drive down to the N10 west of Aoulouz. Before long I was climbing the lower reaches of the Tizzi n'Test that Mandy had cycled down 6 weeks ago - on the plains it had been so hot that instead of windows open for a fresh breeze I'd had them shut and the air con on - having it regassed before I left had been a good move. However for the climb in the midday heat it was all windows open and heater, with fan, full on to assist the engine in keeping its cool. I passed the turning to the lofty vantage point a couple of miles off the main road we had spotted weeks ago as I knew I could get water a little further on past one of the panoramic cafes. I pulled in by the pipe that had cool clear water pouring out and spoke to the friendly guy running the simplest of tea shacks. He had just cooked an omelette and insisted I shared it and bread with him so after filling up and moving the van to one side on  the narrow road we sat in the shade as various vehicles passed by including a dozen or so British bikes and the four guys from near Ifni who recognised the van. I thanked the guy, gave him a few dirhams and said I'd see him again in a day or two and retraced my steps before turning off to arrive at a lofty vantage point with a cool breeze. It was hazy due to dust but I enjoyed watching vehicles inching their way up and down the many twists and turns through my binoculars. A guy turned up on a moped with several large sacks strapped on - apparently it was lavender that he was taking down to be processed. He asked for a drink and was delighted when I gave him an ice cold bottle from the fridge and then refilled it and told him to keep it, such small gestures mean the world to people who have so little. Later a young lad appeared, said hello as he passed and then seemed to just drop off a cliff towards a small cluster of house way below wearing just a pair of flip flops...

The odd scooter, car and pick up passed until dusk and I watched the goatherds bring their flocks down the steep slopes as the day cooled off before a few lights emerged way below after dark and the odd vehicle tackled the tricky route.

Today I have read and relaxed whilst watching the view, I took a short walk down the track to see what lay round some hairpins and was surprised to see quite a substantial village way below which explains this improved access. The hazy dust has cleared so even more lights are visible down on the plains stretching away to the south.

Tomorrow I move on as Mandy arrives in Marrakech in four days so I will stop for water again and find somewhere on the other side of the col.

Pics as always here....CLICK