My predictions for the morning were correct, a glorious day warm and blue skies. It turned out we were further away from Merzouga (Erg Chebbi) than we thought- this was clearly due to a fault line shifting since the map was published.
The road to Rissani is one punctuated by palm groves, the sides of the valley steep, rocky and very eroded. It clearly suffers when it rains hard- lots of washed out sections, we are now starting to have small dunes (albeit wet ones) creeping onto the road. Roads signs are warning us of camels on the road - never mind the camels - it's the goats and their prepubescent minders that are more of a hazard!
Rissani and Erfoud are towns that owe much of their economy to luck. Three hundred and fifty million years ago, a Paleozoic reef existed where the towns are situated (some locals still remember this time) and as a consequence this is fossil central. We are talking trilobites and coral rather than brontosaurus and T-Rex.
We stopped at a roadside 'museum' selling fossils – we preferred the out of town ones, Rissani and Erfoud are tourist traps and the prices are highly inflated. The old boy that ran the place was a mess. He showed us around all his stuff, tons of it, kept in boxes wrapped in newspaper- a treasure trove; I could have spent ages looking around. Alas, dear reader here is the rub - you can be fascinated, amazed, gob-smacked, find the missing link etc. but…. this directly affects the price; boredom, disinterest and apathy are the way forward when negotiating.
For the trip I have been doing the translation, this means I can really bullshit to Tony. I have developed a nod, a 'oui' and also a 'Biensure' that gives an impression that I understand what is being said to me. (This will get me into trouble, I know)
Unfortunately, we both wanted to get the message across to our ancient salesman that the punters don't want 'new fossils' that he had cleaned up, added a bit of varnish, the odd eye here and there, perhaps a some color or polished to a mirror finish. My French just wasn't up to the job of explaining this so we had to sit through several boxes of painted trilobites, that were too perfect, I think he eventually understood.
We found some great stuff, he started high, we went low, we said another time, he said wait my friend, we said 'no this all we can afford, he said 'no', we started the truck – he ran after us- we had the right price, he was happy, so were we.
The sand started to change into the dry wind blown stuff of Omar Sharif movies, the dunes becoming more evident and camels (feeling the need to justify the warning signs), loiter around corners waiting to pounce.
Tony is getting excited, he tells me facts about quad bikes, his quad bike, the history of quad bikes. Then it appears around a bend - the big one- Erg Chebbi. As Tone rightly points out, they're huge- a mountain range of sand.
The owner of the 'Rose en Sable'' campsite clearly saw us infidels coming and he speculated with an outrageous price (with or without electric?) After a micro-second of haggling we agreed that the forty dirham he wanted was ok - this was nearly four pounds (with an electric hook up), but we were tired and couldn't be bothered to find anywhere else, maybe tomorrow we'll look.
Proudly standing out against the blue sky, this pristine, fragile environment is a marvel of the natural world. The plants clinging on to the ever-shifting sands are almost totally reliant on the sweat of tourists for sustenance, Rhino beetles scurrying across the surface leaving delicate tracks only to disappear with a gust of wind. The increasingly rare desert ecosystems are home to a few of the most endangered species we have -the sand fish and the almost extinct Dune porpoise. A long-term education program has been set up to change the mind-sets of the locals, who still use porpoise phlegm as milk substitute and the skin for traditional elbow warmers.
The Tuareg people are beginning to forgo their ancient hunting traditions and are no longer harpooning these wonderful creatures from their camels, but it will be a long hard road if the Dune porpoise is to survive.
But hey- there's only one true way of exploring this fragile domain and that's 'flat chat' on a quad! In a flash she was out of her box and screaming over the dunes. The Tuareg tribesmen didn't know what had hit'em! That's progress though.
We decide to climb the Erg (dune), whilst it was still light, this was to be the most knackering experience have done since we left blighty. One step forward, two steps sinking back. By the time we got to the top, we were puffing like steam trains, but it was worth it; spectacular views of the dunes, photo opps galore.
On returning to the truck we went for a look around Mazouga (on the quad) to buy some provisions and check out the restaurant scene. Mazouga is not a big place - no asphalt, street lighting or footpaths. We bought some tagine spices from a bloke whose 'pitch' was on a carpet in the street, nice chap. Onwards for more provisions – tomatoes, coke and some strawberries! Tomorrow -we'll cook up a storm- a veritable symphony of spices, tomatoes, onions and defrosted Tesco's chicken pieces.
As you would expect, the vast majority of locals are Islamic, it was good to have some our preconceptions challenged- not all girls were burka clad and shut away, the men were happy to share a joke and take the micky out of their mates who were busy ranting in the street over the price of an orange. One little girl (daughter of shopkeeper number two) was clean, chatty and giggly in French, Arabic and Berber and her dad was clearly as proud and loving as any dad.
We found a suitable restaurant; the menu was written on the skin of a sheep and hanging up outside. We told the pretty young lady, that we would like 'the local special' to eat, and we would return later (8.30) to eat- job done.
The meal was very tasty, 'beef', lentils, peas, and peppers in a thick spicy stock. It arrived on a thick pottery plate- still boiling and bubbling, and served with fresh flat bread. We didn't stay long after the meal, the place was pretty empty, there was a group of women who did come in though (four, I think) they chatted away – no covered faces- all fashion conscious, mobile phone using types, laughing aloud, sitting at the table next to us- they could have been on a hen night; minus the L-plates, alcho-pops and lager.
Went to bed tired and full, slept well, today is the day we venture out into the sand proper- I plan to rent a quad bike, rather than double with Tony, we both expect to be knackered this evening
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