Three days ago, I woke as a dull light seemed to light up the horizon. Crawling out from under the multitude of blankets from which I kept the night chill at bay I stumbled from the tent, pausing to put on my shoes, my pants and my wool poncho and wandered past the camels and climbed the nearest sand dune to wait for the second part of why I had travelled this far into Africa, a sunrise over the Sahara Desert.
Sitting in the morning chill, I looked around me at the changing colors of the dunes which surrounded my campsite, on which other tourists had perched themselves in anticipation of the same event. There's something I'd forgotten about sunrises which sets them apart from sunsets, the actual moment when the first rays of the sun break across the landscape is not known and so I watched in eager, uncertain anticipation as the sky grew brighter and more colorful without giving me any hint as to when the sun might actually put in its appearance. And then, when you don't think the sky can become any brighter, and blinding shaft of light broke across the sand and struck me, dawn had indeed broken.
Well, I'm back from the desert and what an amazing experience it was. After leaving the Kif mountains I headed south to Fes one of the larger Moroccan cities. Unfortunately, it rained the two days I was there, and I didn't really enjoy the city that so many people raved about. Plus, I'm not wild about cities and shopping and I think this was a major appeal to some of the people who loved Fes.
Sick of the rain, I took an overnight bus south crossing the Atlas Mountain range, which was surprisingly (at least to me) snow covered to the Sahara, to Rissani which is the last stop on the line. Getting off there, I was somewhat discouraged by the brisk 7:00 am air and the multitude of puddles in the street. Puddled, muddy streets wasn't what I had in mind when I imagined the Sahara, but I let it pass, and turned my attention to finding a taxi to take me and the two Canadians I was traveling with to Merzouga, the town which is situated on the edge of Erg Chebbi, the only true Saharan sand dunes in Morocco. On the rather bumpy two hour taxi ride out to Merzouga (roads, where we're going, we don't need roads) I learned from our driver that it had rained last night in the Sahara, evidently for the first time in three or four years. I spent part of the ride grumbling about the fact that I was trying to get away from rain and it turned out that the one place I figured I'd pretty much be guaranteed clear skies had a major downpour the night before. Oye! As it turned out, some where far worse off because of the weather than I, but I'll come to that later. Bouncing our way across the black sand desert we finally reached the edge of the erg and the hotels which are entrenched here.
After finding a room at a simply wonderful French run hotel which also had amazing dinners each night, I bounded off into the desert to explore the dunes and try my luck at Berber skiing. Berber skiing is simply skiing on the sand dunes. I must say, it's a hoot. I first tried it with a snowboard, which was somewhat frightening as this was only my second time using a snowboard, and the first time I happened to ski off a cliff. Then I tried using what I guess could be called snow scooter, snowboard that have a scooter shaft and handlebars attached to them. That was a lot more fun and did not involve falling quite as much.
That night I dined with a couple I met about a week and a half before in Tarifa Spain and another couple who had just returned prematurely from a camel tour in the desert. This is the worse off bit. It seems this couple had been planning on doing a three night camel tour through the Sahara, which sounds wonderful, except for the first night out it rained. Heavily. Bear in mind, that it rains on average, one day every three years or so. That being the case, Berber tents are not exactly waterproof. They aren't waterproof at all and are made of a canvas which is basically the same material that one makes potato sacks from. And because of the lack of moisture, nights in the desert are fairly cold. After spending a cold, soaking wet night in the desert, the couple decided to call off the rest of their tour. I didn't blame them.
After dinner I made my way back out into the sand, a little way from the hotel and sat looking at the night sky. The desert, not surprisingly is a wonderful place to do this. The cloud of the Milky Way was quite clear, and the stars were as bright as I've ever seen them. It was, in a word, magnificent.
I spent the next two days doing much the same, hiking in the sand and sun and contemplating the night sky. On the third day, I took an overnight camel tour into the desert with two Kiwis I’d met that day. The two hour ride into the Erg was enjoyable except that Brendan's camel behind me had horrible breath and kept burping. Beyond that, I loved the trip out. That night we had a very nice dinner in the desert and then sat out watching the stars as our campfire faded. That night, I climbed up the tallest dune and surveyed the sky and land around me. It was a bit frightening, to be honest, standing on a dune alone in the Sahara night, but it was also amazing.
After sunrise, we packed up our camp, and headed back to the hotel. This turned out to be quite an ordeal for me. At this point in my travels in Morocco, I'd only had one very mild case of stomach trouble (please look past this euphemism). However, the meat from the dinner and the motion of riding a camel got my bowels churning and we made it back to the hotel just in time for me to hop off my steed and stumble to the bathroom, from which turning the next thirty minutes, such sounds and smells erupted as to generally frighten and horrify most of the other guests at the hotel (I think the staff was used to such disturbances), which were followed my sighs of relief and then myself staggering back out into the sun and collapsing in a chair.
After a few hours of rest and recuperation from the ordeal, I took the taxi back to Rissani and started my trek back north. I didn't feel great the rest of that day, and spent the night feeling rather ill. The next day was a long one, I spent 14 hours on buses traveling back North, from El-Rachidia, back to Fes, and then on to Chefchaouen. During the course of this trek north, I did get to see to absolutely incredible sunsets in which the color seemed to hang over the horizon for an eternity. And, now, I'm back in Chefchaouen, recuperating Rif Mountain style, before returning to Spain.
I think I sent all of you a detailed account of my first day and night here in Morocco. That night, I seriously considered heading back to Spain the next day. Two weeks later, I am so glad I decided not to. Morocco has been such a pleasant surprise for me. The landscapes that I have seen are wildly diverse and each is incredible. The food, when it doesn't send you running to the toilet, is wonderful, and after two weeks I've gained an immense appreciation for hot showers and toilets that you can sit on rather than squat over a hole. It's been an amazing unexpected wrinkle in my travels this fall, and as I make my way back towards the Alps, where I hope I'll find work for the winter, I am so glad I decided that day in Tarifa that I should wander this way.
Before I end this message, I should briefly mention that my last night in Chaouen before going to Fes was one of the weirdest I've ever had. I was with the group I'd been hanging out with in Chefchaouen, Stuart, an Aussie acupuncturist, 2 kiwis Micah and Sally, and James, an utter git from North England who is one of the oddest blokes I've ever encountered, and has an unholy passion for hash. The group of us went and hung out at the one room apartment of James' friend Muhammad. It was a rather funky night. Later, sitting on the roof of our hotel, Michah, Sally and I saw the single greatest shooting star I've ever seen in my life, it arced 'cross the sky and while it left a path behind it, the main piece of the meteorite was quite bright and evident. The trail it left, instead of simply disappearing into the night, glittered and sparkled for several moments before fading out as the meteorite had already done. It was simply amazing, and the trio of us looked at each other, wondering if what we had witnessed was real or just a hallucination. However, as all three of us had seen the same thing, I have to conclude it was real and the most incredible shooting star I've ever witnessed. Well, that about sums up a good portion of my travels during the past 2 weeks, I hope everyone is doing well, and this letter wasn't too dull.