Fwd: Day 10 photos

Day 10 - The High Atlas and Marrakesh

Into the cab after watching the sunrise we began our long (ish) trek to Marrakesh. As mentioned previously, we travelled through Ourzarzate. I visited the city last year when travelling on the motorbike. The city has really changed, much more of modern feel, cleaner streets and roads have kerbs and there are even public fountains and pieces of modern art dotted around. This is a city that clearly has a bit of money floating around, it is situated between the High Atlas and the desert country has fertile farmland, the livestock look healthier as do the people. Ourazarzate is also the place where several big films were made. Those shots of Luke Skywalker zipping around in the desert on his sand pod thingy and the landscapes of the sand people were all made here. Others credits include 'The Man who would be King' 'The Jewel in the Nile', 'Lawrence of Arabia' and the 70's epic 'Jesus of Nazareth'. We only drove through but it was impressive.

From the Southern side the ascent of the mountains is quite steep, lots of switch-backs and even more 'if we go off the cliff here we're stuffed' comments. We stopped at a small shelter/shop and bought some geods? (Rocks with a crystal centre) and further on some good bits of pottery. The 'pot shop' was dirt-cheap and sold the real stuff not just tourist tat. Locals and passing truck drivers seemed to favor it; all along the road people selling 'geods' that had been stained to make them more dramatic- unfortunately to the point of being ludicrous having been stained bright pink and orange. We had already been told by our man at the small shelter what to look for and he showed us some example of 'fake' geods, so we were in the know!

The cruise into Marrakesh seems to take forever, the road winds aimlessly along with less of the extreme drop-offs we encounter on the climb up. The soil changes back to a muddy red brick color, the erosion on the hills is quite spectacular, shaping and reshaping the gorges after every winter snow melt. The soil gets carried away, filling the puddles, drainage trenches and staining the rivers red.

The campsite we had found in 'Kesh was tricky to find, and after a mini tour of the various industrial estates and low spots of 'Kesh, we relented and asked  for directions – no problem, after getting lost after the first set of instructions, we were successful after asking the local tyre selling bloke. We eventually found 'Le Relais de Marrakesh' this was a godsend - a top campsite. Swimming pool, bar, showers, bar, friendly staff, Jacuzzi, bar, trees for shade and a bar.

On arrival, we held a small media briefing to answer general questions about the truck. Tony then suggested that questions of a specific engineering nature would be best fielded in the bar. We got talking to a Dutch chap (mid twenties I guess), he was driving an old Land Rover through Africa – and not for the first time, he had been all over the place. Randolph was the genuine article, we went into the market in town 'Place Jemaa el Fna' for some food with him, we were warned about dubious looking rug salesmen. Six minutes after our taxi dropped us off - a rug sales man approached us, what can I say, I had predicted ten minutes.

The market place is a sensory whirlpool, the blur of smoke from the BBQ fires, the colors of the spice/date and orange sellers and the 'bloody racket' from the tone deaf drummers.  I honestly think some of these 'musicians' are having a laugh; they seemed to be constantly 'warming up'. One group of drummers were OK, but the rest- sad to say - disappointed. It's easy to wax lyrical about the primitive beat and the natural rhythms of Africa – but these blokes couldn't beat an egg.

There was huge amount of food happening- brochette, cous cous, tagine plus the european pizza and chips thing. We opted for the tagine and very tasty too; a word of warning for those readers planning to visit with small children – don't order the kids menu if your children like baby goats, they may become upset.

We were knackered and returned about eleven o'clock, we are staying another night in 'Kesh, time to recharge the batteries, restock groceries and did I mention there was a bar in the campsite.

Day 9 – Driving

It was a glorious day, bright blue skies and warmth. We had a bit of housekeeping to do – put away the quad bike, fill up the water tanks, ironing, hoovering and spot clean the cushion covers etc. We have found that opening the side windows is a great way of airing the truck out, however this does have the effect of causing queues of people expecting hamburgers or kebabs, that's why camping away from the towns is easier, and less of a threat to the local food vendors.

We sent the previous days blog and paid the bill and left Erg Chebbi at about 10am, with a view to getting to Ouarzarzate by mid to late afternoon.

On reaching Rissani (the nearest town) we attempted to get fuel. Petrol stations that show credit card signs generally take credit cards, not so down here – this was the case at several stations, we were chewing through our cash as a result. One garage said we could pay in Euros, thankfully they were not up to speed with current exchange rates and we filled up for a bargain.

Onwards we pushed - through Erfoud and then across the desert to Tinehir, with no drama but spectacular scenery; monument valley stuff all over again. We passed the Stone pillar of Enid - this crumbling dormant volcano was first climbed in 1678 by French mountaineer – Pierre Poubelle; struck by the pillars immense size and constant emitting of foul gasses he named it after his wife, Enid.

After a long stint, Tone pulled of the road so we could make some lunch. Now in our travels we have come to note the Moroccans have about as much respect for the environment as a well-fed dog on a bowling green. They are not shy about fly tipping; plastic bags adorn most roadside trees and bottles are to be found strewn everywhere. What we didn't expect to find at our lunchtime picnic spot (in the desert) was half a ton of dead fish, in a neat pile about twenty metres from the roadside.  Rather than go for the biblical plagues and pestilence explanation, we figured the tyre tracks leading away hinted at a truck dumping them.

One of the main causes of accidents in the desert regions are wayward livestock and potholes, we are constantly on the lookout for both. Compulsory road safety classes were trialled some years ago but the country's goats refused to attend.

We continued on towards Ouarzarzate along the Dades Valley, small villages merging into each other for most of the way, many with small stalls selling crafts. Hand-carved electronic goods are popular; the local pottery produces bowls and pots that have a tendency to leak, crack, split or crumble. This aside they are cheap and make a perfect gift for someone you are unlikely to see again.

It seemed there had been some recent rain as the rivers were flowing, at one point the truck went through a swollen river that was more than tyre tread depth! The locals looked on with a degree of envy yet wonderment as we negotiated our craft through the treacherous waters.

About fifteen km from Ouarzarzate we began to skirt the shores of a rather large lake, the result of a dam further down the valley, the sun was setting, we were tired, the views were great, so we decided to camp. What a treat – only the photos can do it justice – glorious sun set, magnificent full moon rise. We sat outside watching the show on chairs brought from the UK– unfortunately the midges weren't distracted by this astronomy lesson and my legs – standing out like white beacons - were an easy target.

We retired inside to cook our 'chicken with spices' from the produce (tomatoes, aubergine and sweet pepper) purchased in Merzouga - it turned out to be quite tasty.

Tomorrow we plan to be in Marrakesh in the afternoon and stay for a couple of nights, before heading to Essoira on the coast.

Day 9 and 10

DAY 9 – Driving

It was a glorious day, bright blue skies and warmth. We had a bit of housekeeping to do – put away the quad bike, fill up the water tanks, ironing, hoovering and spot clean the cushion covers etc. We have found that opening the side windows is a great way of airing the truck out, however this does have the effect of causing queues of people expecting hamburgers or kebabs, that's why camping away from the towns is easier, and less of a threat to the local food vendors.

 

We sent the previous days blog and paid the bill and left Erg Chebbi at about 10am, with a view to getting to Ouarzarzate by mid to late afternoon.

 

On reaching Rissani (the nearest town) we attempted to get fuel. Petrol stations that show credit card signs generally take credit cards, not so down here – this was the case at several stations, we were chewing through our cash as a result. One garage said we could pay in Euro's, thankfully they were not up to speed with current exchange rates and we filled up for a bargain.

Onwards we pushed - through Erfoud and then across the desert to Tinehir, with no drama but spectacular scenery; monument valley stuff, all over again. We passed the Stone pillar of Enid - this crumbling dormant volcano was first climbed in 1678 by French mountaineer – Pierre Poubelle; struck by the pillars immense size and constant emitting of foul gasses he named it after his wife, Enid.

 

After a long stint, Tone pulled of the road so we could make some lunch.

Now in our travels we have come to note the Moroccans have about as much respect for the environment as a well - fed dog on a bowling green. They are not shy about fly tipping; plastic bags adorn most roadside trees and bottles are to be found strewn everywhere. What we didn't expect to find at our lunchtime picnic spot (in the desert) was half a ton of dead fish, in a neat pile about twenty meters from the roadside, rather than go for the biblical plagues and pestilence explanation. We figured the tyre tracks leading away, hinted at a truck dumping them.

 

One of the main causes of accidents in the desert regions are wayward livestock and potholes, we are constantly on the lookout for both. Compulsory road safety classes were trialled some years ago but the country's goats refused to attend.

 

We continued on towards Ouarzarzate along the Dades Valley, small villages merging into each other for most of the way, many with small stalls selling crafts. Hand-carved electronic goods are popular; the local pottery produces bowls and pots that have a tendency to leak, crack, split or crumble. This aside they are cheap and make a perfect gift for someone you are unlikely to see again.

 

It seemed there had been some recent rain as the rivers were flowing, at one point the truck went through a swollen river that was more than tyre tread depth! The locals looked on with a degree of envy yet wonderment as we negotiated our craft through the treacherous waters.

 

About fifteen km from Ouarzarzate we began to skirt the shores of a rather large lake, the result of a dam further down the valley, the sun was setting, we were tired, the views were great, so we decided to camp. What a treat – only the photos can do it justice – glorious sun set, magnificent full moon rise. We sat outside watching the show on the chairs brought from the U.K– unfortunately the midges weren't distracted by this astronomy lesson and my legs – standing out like white beacons- were an easy target.

We retired inside to cook our 'chicken with spices' from the produce (tomatoes, aubergine and sweet pepper) purchased in Merzouga- it turned out to be quite tasty.

Tomorrow we plan to be in Marrakesh in the afternoon and stay for a couple of nights, before heading to Essoira on the coast.

 

 

Day 10 The High Atlas and Marrakesh

 

Into the cab after watching the sunrise, we began our long (ish) trek to Marrakesh. As mentioned previously, we travelled through Ourzarzate. I visited the city last year when travelling on the motorbike. The city has really changed, much more of modern feel, cleaner streets, and roads have kerbs and there are even public fountains and pieces of modern art dotted around. This is a city that clearly has a bit of money floating around, it is situated between the High Atlas and the desert country has fertile farmland, the livestock look healthier as do the people. Ourazarzate is also the place were several big films were made. Those shots of Luke Skywalker zipping around in the desert on his sand pod thingy and the landscapes of the sand people were all made here. Others credits include 'The man who would be king' 'The jewel in the Nile' 'Lawrence of Arabia' and the 70's epic 'Jesus of Nazareth'. We only drove through but it was impressive.

 

From the Southern side the ascent of the mountains is quite steep, lots of switch backs and even more ' if we go off the cliff here we're stuffed' comments. We stopped at a small shelter/ shop and bought some geods? (Rocks with a crystal centre) and further on some good bits of pottery. The 'pot shop' was dirt-cheap and sold the real stuff not just tourist tat. Locals and passing truck drivers seemed to favor it; all along the road people selling 'geods' that had been stained to make them more dramatic- unfortunately to the point of being ludicrous having been stained bright pink and orange. We had already been told by our man at the small shelter what to look for and he showed us some example of 'fake' geods, so we were in the know!

 

The cruise into Marrakesh seems to take forever, the road winds aimlessly along with less of the extreme drop offs we encounter on the climb up. The soil changes back to a muddy red brick color, the erosion on the hills is quite spectacular, shaping and reshaping the gorges after every winter snow melt. The soil gets carried away, filling the puddles, drainage trenches and staining the rivers red.

 

The campsite we had found in 'Kesh was tricky to find, and after a mini tour of the various industrial estates and low spots of 'Kesh, we relented and asked  for directions – no problem, after getting lost after the first set of instructions, we were successful after asking the local tyre selling bloke. We eventually found 'Le Relais de Marrakesh' this was a godsend - a top campsite. Swimming pool, bar, showers, bar, friendly staff, Jacuzzi, bar, trees for shade and a bar.

 

On arrival, we held a small media briefing to answer general questions about the truck, Tony then suggested that questions of a specific engineering nature would be best fielded in the bar. We got talking to a Dutch chap (mid twenties I guess), he was driving an old land rover through Africa – and not for the first time, he had been all over the place. Randolph was the genuine article, we went into the market in town 'Place Jemaa el Fna' for some food with him, we were warned about dubious looking rug salesmen. Six minutes after our taxi dropped us off- a rug sales man approached us, what can I say, I had predicted ten minutes.

 

The market place is a sensory whirlpool, the blur of smoke from the BBQ fires, the colors of the spice/ date and orange sellers and the 'bloody racket' from the tone deaf drummers.

I honestly think some of these 'musicians' are having a laugh; they seemed to be constantly 'warming up'. One group of drummers were OK, but the rest- sad to say disappointed. It's easy to wax lyrical about the primitive beat and the natural rhythms of Africa – these blokes couldn't beat an egg.

 

There was huge amount of food happening- brochette, Cous Cous, Tagine plus the European pizza and chips thing. We opted for the Tagine and very tasty too; a word of warning for those readers planning to visit with small children – don't order the kids menu if your children like baby goats, they may become upset.

 

We were knackered and returned about eleven o'clock, we are staying another night in 'Kesh, time to recharge the batteries restock groceries, and did I mention there was a bar in the campsite.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 9 and 10

DAY 9 – Driving

It was a glorious day, bright blue skies and warmth. We had a bit of housekeeping to do – put away the quad bike, fill up the water tanks, ironing, hoovering and spot clean the cushion covers etc. We have found that opening the side windows is a great way of airing the truck out, however this does have the effect of causing queues of people expecting hamburgers or kebabs, that's why camping away from the towns is easier, and less of a threat to the local food vendors.

 

We sent the previous days blog and paid the bill and left Erg Chebbi at about 10am, with a view to getting to Ouarzarzate by mid to late afternoon.

 

On reaching Rissani (the nearest town) we attempted to get fuel. Petrol stations that show credit card signs generally take credit cards, not so down here – this was the case at several stations, we were chewing through our cash as a result. One garage said we could pay in Euro's, thankfully they were not up to speed with current exchange rates and we filled up for a bargain.

Onwards we pushed - through Erfoud and then across the desert to Tinehir, with no drama but spectacular scenery; monument valley stuff, all over again. We passed the Stone pillar of Enid - this crumbling dormant volcano was first climbed in 1678 by French mountaineer – Pierre Poubelle; struck by the pillars immense size and constant emitting of foul gasses he named it after his wife, Enid.

 

After a long stint, Tone pulled of the road so we could make some lunch.

Now in our travels we have come to note the Moroccans have about as much respect for the environment as a well - fed dog on a bowling green. They are not shy about fly tipping; plastic bags adorn most roadside trees and bottles are to be found strewn everywhere. What we didn't expect to find at our lunchtime picnic spot (in the desert) was half a ton of dead fish, in a neat pile about twenty meters from the roadside, rather than go for the biblical plagues and pestilence explanation. We figured the tyre tracks leading away, hinted at a truck dumping them.

 

One of the main causes of accidents in the desert regions are wayward livestock and potholes, we are constantly on the lookout for both. Compulsory road safety classes were trialled some years ago but the country's goats refused to attend.

 

We continued on towards Ouarzarzate along the Dades Valley, small villages merging into each other for most of the way, many with small stalls selling crafts. Hand-carved electronic goods are popular; the local pottery produces bowls and pots that have a tendency to leak, crack, split or crumble. This aside they are cheap and make a perfect gift for someone you are unlikely to see again.

 

It seemed there had been some recent rain as the rivers were flowing, at one point the truck went through a swollen river that was more than tyre tread depth! The locals looked on with a degree of envy yet wonderment as we negotiated our craft through the treacherous waters.

 

About fifteen km from Ouarzarzate we began to skirt the shores of a rather large lake, the result of a dam further down the valley, the sun was setting, we were tired, the views were great, so we decided to camp. What a treat – only the photos can do it justice – glorious sun set, magnificent full moon rise. We sat outside watching the show on the chairs brought from the U.K– unfortunately the midges weren't distracted by this astronomy lesson and my legs – standing out like white beacons- were an easy target.

We retired inside to cook our 'chicken with spices' from the produce (tomatoes, aubergine and sweet pepper) purchased in Merzouga- it turned out to be quite tasty.

Tomorrow we plan to be in Marrakesh in the afternoon and stay for a couple of nights, before heading to Essoira on the coast.

 

 

Day 10 The High Atlas and Marrakesh

 

Into the cab after watching the sunrise, we began our long (ish) trek to Marrakesh. As mentioned previously, we travelled through Ourzarzate. I visited the city last year when travelling on the motorbike. The city has really changed, much more of modern feel, cleaner streets, and roads have kerbs and there are even public fountains and pieces of modern art dotted around. This is a city that clearly has a bit of money floating around, it is situated between the High Atlas and the desert country has fertile farmland, the livestock look healthier as do the people. Ourazarzate is also the place were several big films were made. Those shots of Luke Skywalker zipping around in the desert on his sand pod thingy and the landscapes of the sand people were all made here. Others credits include 'The man who would be king' 'The jewel in the Nile' 'Lawrence of Arabia' and the 70's epic 'Jesus of Nazareth'. We only drove through but it was impressive.

 

From the Southern side the ascent of the mountains is quite steep, lots of switch backs and even more ' if we go off the cliff here we're stuffed' comments. We stopped at a small shelter/ shop and bought some geods? (Rocks with a crystal centre) and further on some good bits of pottery. The 'pot shop' was dirt-cheap and sold the real stuff not just tourist tat. Locals and passing truck drivers seemed to favor it; all along the road people selling 'geods' that had been stained to make them more dramatic- unfortunately to the point of being ludicrous having been stained bright pink and orange. We had already been told by our man at the small shelter what to look for and he showed us some example of 'fake' geods, so we were in the know!

 

The cruise into Marrakesh seems to take forever, the road winds aimlessly along with less of the extreme drop offs we encounter on the climb up. The soil changes back to a muddy red brick color, the erosion on the hills is quite spectacular, shaping and reshaping the gorges after every winter snow melt. The soil gets carried away, filling the puddles, drainage trenches and staining the rivers red.

 

The campsite we had found in 'Kesh was tricky to find, and after a mini tour of the various industrial estates and low spots of 'Kesh, we relented and asked  for directions – no problem, after getting lost after the first set of instructions, we were successful after asking the local tyre selling bloke. We eventually found 'Le Relais de Marrakesh' this was a godsend - a top campsite. Swimming pool, bar, showers, bar, friendly staff, Jacuzzi, bar, trees for shade and a bar.

 

On arrival, we held a small media briefing to answer general questions about the truck, Tony then suggested that questions of a specific engineering nature would be best fielded in the bar. We got talking to a Dutch chap (mid twenties I guess), he was driving an old land rover through Africa – and not for the first time, he had been all over the place. Randolph was the genuine article, we went into the market in town 'Place Jemaa el Fna' for some food with him, we were warned about dubious looking rug salesmen. Six minutes after our taxi dropped us off- a rug sales man approached us, what can I say, I had predicted ten minutes.

 

The market place is a sensory whirlpool, the blur of smoke from the BBQ fires, the colors of the spice/ date and orange sellers and the 'bloody racket' from the tone deaf drummers.

I honestly think some of these 'musicians' are having a laugh; they seemed to be constantly 'warming up'. One group of drummers were OK, but the rest- sad to say disappointed. It's easy to wax lyrical about the primitive beat and the natural rhythms of Africa – these blokes couldn't beat an egg.

 

There was huge amount of food happening- brochette, Cous Cous, Tagine plus the European pizza and chips thing. We opted for the Tagine and very tasty too; a word of warning for those readers planning to visit with small children – don't order the kids menu if your children like baby goats, they may become upset.

 

We were knackered and returned about eleven o'clock, we are staying another night in 'Kesh, time to recharge the batteries restock groceries, and did I mention there was a bar in the campsite.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fwd: ERG - Photos

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Day 8 - Sand

We were both a bit lethargic on waking up, the travel taking its toll, but that was ok, the sun was shining, I did a bit of washing, reading and planning the days ahead- maps out, where can we go what do we want to do etc..

We drove into Merzouga to check out the quad hire prices, availability etc. Tony had already done a little research and the prices for hire were frankly steep for what was on offer, we had to have a guide, needed to hire two bikes (even though we already had one). We said we would think about it (but not for long) we put extra fuel on board Tone's bike, drinking water, maps, compass etc and headed off tandem. It worked quite well, I played the part of scout, when the dunes were a bit steep or we didn't know what was on the other side (drop off, camel herd or Land Rover).

It was spectacular, ploughing through the sea of sand, pitching and rolling with the dunes. Like off piste skiing, you need to pick your line with care, otherwise you end up in a bowl. The dunes like snow often lack definition and it can be tricky to judge the steepness of a dunes pitch, this is known as 'yellow out conditions'.

Driving in deep sand is a trick I am yet to master, Tony seemed to have it sorted- consequently he did most of the driving. I had a few goes, but I can say with honesty that I was not as confident as Tone, I hadn't ridden a quad before so I took charge of camel spotting.

We picked our way through medium to small dunes, using a large rocky outcrop in the distance as a marker beacon, this worked fine. On arriving at said point there was a small Berber restaurant, having taken little money with us, we went for the coke option. The owner asked if we wanted food, I explained we haven't brought much money (which was true) – 'no problem' he said. He was very proud of his little operation –tents, outside oven, BBQ and a little vegetable garden - he clearly had plans to have people stay overnight. He served up a wonderful salad and omelette, and with us seated on Berber chairs and carpets and chatting to him, it couldn't have been better - I gave him what we had (100dhm = £9). We exchanged thank you's and rode off in search of 'Ergs'.

Getting back to the campsite (after I managed to throw both Tone and myself off the bike) I was relieved to see no one had  stolen my now dry undies and socks from the spiky bush they were hanging on. This had been playing on my mind for some time- as rates of underwear theft have skyrocketed in this region. We had been warned the previous day by a semi-naked german couple to 'watch our pants' - it got lost in the translation, we just thought they were weird or being overly friendly.

As you would expect with a diet rich in dates, figs and lentils, there is quite a market for second hand underwear in Merzouga, particularly in Men's XXL, you will often see the young local men flaunting the 'St Michaels' label when dining or perhaps a pair of white Y-fronts if wooing the girls.  'Clean' or nearly clean athletic supports have supplanted iphones as the must have accessory and command high prices at the weekly souk.

We dined out again in town, next to the plinth celebrating Captain Cameron Merzouga of the Royal Hussars - 'The Lonely Berber - A Friend to all, but particularly young men' it said, unfortunately the bronze statue of him mounting his camel was recently taken down, after a series of complaints about it being too obscene.

Dinner was beef brochette (skewers of beef) once again very tasty and inexpensive. We rode back to the camp cross country, sorted out 'stuff' watched the end of a film and fell asleep. Only three people asked about the dimensions, cost, abilities and attributes of the truck today - have we offended someone?

Tomorrow we leave the desert and head towards the High Atlas and Marrakesh.

Day 7 – Some rocks and lots of sand

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

Tweet : Thurs

We did the quad bike thing through the dunes today. You really have to pick the right path- like sking off piste. Get it wrong and you're off or digging the bike out, great fun. Hotter today, clouding over in the evening seems to be the pattern.Tony had a top day. Ate in a berber tent in the dunes, good salad,olives and an omelette - £10 for us both, a nice family, not out to rip anyone off. Camels all over. Blog tonight.

Fwd: More photos

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Day 6 – Rocks and sand (3/4)

We awoke to the sound of – nothing.

The desert is quiet, and our little oasis was no exception. So after putting 'Sniff Doggy Do' on the stereo (or something similar) at full bore, we soon got the desert rocking! 

We had camped several miles short of the small village of Foum Zyaid where we were due to turn left. We camped away from the village so we would not get hassled by interested locals, usually trying to sell us stuff. It was great, a true adventure off the beaten track. Yet, (dear reader) more off the beaten 'track-ness' was to be had, this was to be the trucks biggest test to date...

The book (How to really, really get lost in Morocco) by Chris Scott said turn left at the pink house in Foum Zyaid - he was clearly hedging his bets, every second house was bloody pink. Seeing a sign that said 'desert this way' we found ourselves in small restaurant selling ice cream. Quickly recognizing our error we turned around and headed for the sandy rocky bits that go on for ages.

The scenery is stark, lunar, sun burnt, dangerous, dry, rocky, extreme, sandy, and 'camely'. What it definitely isn't is forgettable.  Tony compared the views to the Grand Canyon or Monument valley in the USA.

Groups of Berber camels are commonplace and we often see Berber camps far away from the main piste, their children usually running bare foot (or on one occasion with one shoe) towards anything that slows down. We try to avoid them, but asthmatic four year olds just aren't quick enough and seven ton trucks don't swerve well; 'hey ho', a bit of a rub and a 'there, there' from Mum and they'll be walking without a limp in no time at all - life's tough in the desert.

Stopping for lunch and a cuppa' in the middle of nowhere, we were passed by several Paris Dakar types (Spanish mainly) screaming by in cars, we waved a greeting and got nothing back – seems some folks just aren't into that sort of thing. After seeing this uber motor technology stuff howl by it was refreshing to be joined by Faseem, on his 49cc Yamato, riding the dunes like Charlie Boorman on steroids. He worked out here looking after the piste. On seeing the truck parked up he stopped and asked if we were ok, he told us he didn't want to sell us anything 'I'm not Berber' he said. We shared a cup of coffee and a bread roll, he then told us of a better piste - one less likely to damage us, or the truck. We followed him as he danced across the dry sand (usually a biker's nightmare) with ease to the better piste. We waved goodbye as he returned to his workers hut.

On top, fast or slow, stick with a same thing, try something else - all dilemmas faced when negotiating corrugations on the road. Along the route Tony gave a very accurate and very interesting account of the trucks dimensions (tyre pressures, suspension travel, dry weight etc). I was able to share with Tony that the distance between the passenger's cranium and roof liner in the truck cab is directly proportional to the depth of the road corrugations- ridges under six inches in depth have less of an impact that those over six inches. We didn't say much in the hours spent juddering over the roads, not that we didn't have anything to say, it's just that closing my jaw was keeping my fillings in. The distance between Zagora and us was closing (slowly) and we began to think about plans for tomorrow - did we want another much longer day (or more) of corrugations. After a micro second we decided we wanted to play in the sand - we would head towards the big dunes of Erg Chebbi.

Arriving in Zagora, I took Tony to see some mechanics I had met in my previous visit to the town, (with the Africa Twin) hoping to score one of his highly desirable, mega street cred 'ZAGORA GARAGE' stickers for the truck.

I was welcomed like a long lost friend - he remembered the bikes, insisted we had 'bloody' mint tea (I can't stand the stuff) we had long chats etc, etc; anyway we scored the stickers. Zagora has changed significantly since my last visit, it has really embraced the off road/ desert experience theme. Lots of bikes, quads and 4x4s with mainly Spanish and French plates on are to be seen. Tourist type shops, full of the same stuff are all over the place. The trick with haggling in these places is to never show the least sign of enthusiasm and walking away will almost guarantee a price cut (the same applies to dating).

We left Zagora on the road to 'Erg' we didn't expect to get there in one go, so a 'stop and camp en-route' place needed to be found. There are plenty of options; we try to find somewhere where we won't be hassled. We took the truck off road about eighty km from 'Erg'.

It had been drizzling for a while and by the time we parked up the rain was quite heavy, turning the soil under our wheels into a gloopy red mud, a bit like the Spaghetti Bolognese sauce we had for dinner. By the time we went to bed the skies had cleared and the stars were out; looks like it's going to be a good day tomorrow.

Tweet : Weds pm

Arrived at Erg Chebbi- classic big sand dunes of the movies. Tony off playing in sand with quad bike- very happy boy.
Climbed up Erg Chebbi, that gets the heart pumping, Huge dry dune with classic Lawrence of Arabia views.