Morocco: Gallivanting towards the Dessert

The next phase...Er-Rachidia to Merzouga

Our journey sees us journeying farther south gallivanting towards the dessert.

A brief shot of Er-Rachidia on the morning we leave. There is often a familiar feel to small towns the world over. The scene as we left town was a cross between a dessert and Tuscany. Pictured above is the dried river bed of the Oued Ziz. You can catch just a glimpse of Er-Rachidia as we leave (above). I make Nigel stop the car and turn around so I can get these last few shots. Unfortunately he dropped me off on one side of the bridge, I walked to the other and we both waited thinking the other was coming to us. Yes, there are all sorts of crazy thoughts that go through your head when your travel mate doesn't show up. The Ziz Valley is spectacular. Here we were driving on mountainous roads when we turn the corner to witness a panoramic breathtaking view.

Some crazy couple got in the way of this shot.

A small village rests in the valley below.

For the travellers there is a large cool Berber tent erected with a place to drink your tea de menthe.

A close up of the village in the Ziz valley.

A lone woman ventures out into the heat of the midday soon to vanish and leave the feeling of a ghost town.

A lone man. I suppose I didn't have to write that, as it is pretty obvious, hey?

I love the images of the women in full covering wandering the streets. Their wraps billowing in the wind. In different parts of Morocco I noticed a different change in the clothing of the women. In the dessert they were often in black. Donkeys as transport becomes more and more common a sight the farther south we travel.

Horse and buggy are also common.

This is the town of Rissani where the Ziz river is finally overwhelmed by stone and sand. Here caravans from the Sahel used to unload some of their gold and slaves. It is from Rissani that the Filali (ancestors of the Alawite dynasty that rules today) swept north to overthrow the Saadians as the ruling dynasty in Morocco. It is from the town of Rissani, traditionally the domain of tough and wily tribes, that faux guides tried to convince visitors that the road to Merzouga is still unpaved and hard to find and they would need a guide. When that failed, an effort was made to vandalise road signs so that travelling south would be difficult without assistance. The road, finally clears of any town and leaves the Atlas mountains far behind. It heads south towards the Algerian border and the Sahara dessert. The low lying sparse town of Merzouga pops up as camels migrate the vast and barren landscape. It turns out the camels are heading the same way we are. In Fes we follow the ass. In Erg Chebbi, Morocco's only genuine Sahara, we follow the hump.