We never thought an all-inclusive tour would be our kind of thing. What started as the easiest and cheapest way to get to several destinations, ended up exposing us to sights that produced more “holy shits” than anything we’d seen before. The trip was off to a shaky start when no one showed up at the scheduled time and location to get us. Luckily, a fellow tourist ran off and found our bus just before it left. First impressions were good – the multinational crew (including 2 super cool Americans) seemed chill and didn’t fit the old people in safari vest stereotype I had in my head. We drove through amazingly varied landscapes, from the snowy peaks of the Atlas Mountains to the rocky and shrub filled taiga. Both us us had no fucking idea that Morocco could be so lush. Since most of the kasbahs and oasis on our tour were long distances apart, we passed many areas far from the reaches of civilization. Every so often, there would be someone walking or bicycling along the road to some far off destination. We were awestruck – where did these people come from, where were they going and how did they sustain a life out here?
On the second day, we were joined by our guide, Ahmed, who was Berber and taught us many things about his ancient culture. A tribe of nomadic people, the Berbers have inhabited the deserts and mountains of Morocco for millenia. In fact, their hooded outfits were probably the inspiration for the Tatouine-dwelling Jawas in Star Wars. He led us through an oasis of date palms and olive trees, a permaculture of lands inherited and cared for by multi-generational families. It was amazing what a difference having a guide makes – Did you know the mountain tribes get together once a year for a single mass wedding and goat exchange? Afterwards, we met a Berber family where we learned how their traditional hand woven rugs were made, the techniques they used and how much they cost… wait a minute, was this a sales pitch? Unfortunately for him, he didn’t count on our group being a bunch of broke asses, unwilling to spend hundreds on a souvenir.
Six hours later, we arrived in the desert and were desperate to get on some damn camels. Probably the most uncharismatic creatures on earth, camels stink, get pissed if you make them do anything but chew cud and perfectly time every sneeze to splatter you with snot. Even so, riding camels across the reddish tinged Saharan dunes just in time to catch the sunset was indescribable. We headed towards our tent village were we would spend the night. Suddenly, we heard a woman shriek as flames shot up from the kitchen tent, comprised of old rugs and wooden poles. A few of us quickly jumped off our camels to help. Kim and I were frantically pulling water out of a makeshift well but were told to run because the propane tanks used for cooking might explode. Luckily, they only ruptured but had caught another tent on fire in the process. It was eventually contained once we doused it with enough water and sand but the damage was done. We resignedly mounted our camels and trekked to our camp, feeling badly for the family who lost their kitchen but thankful that no one was hurt. After recovering from the drama, we finished off the night with a hike up a huge dune to catch the last glimpses of light across the desert. If this experience is just one of many on this trip, we are in for some incredible times.
We are all sitting here at the ski house super jealous of you two…we miss you heaps. Great writing…keep it up! I love and miss you…(yes, I am a bit drunk…hehe) Double muah!!!
Awesome!!!
amazing!
I love the fact TD is drinking a beer!
That’s not a beer you smack , that’s soda pop jijiji