Kat’s Morocco –Ten in a continuing series…
So you have decided to continue with me on my journey through Morocco, into the Atlas Mountains and on to the rustic and spiritually inspiring city of Erfoud. Thank you for returning!
After seeing the open countryside between Casa and Fez and all of the lovely handicrafts, we were bound for Berber country – the Rif Mountains, the cedar forests of the Middle Atlas Mountains and the desert that lay beyond. The weather had been cool, in the mid to high 60’s and a bit damp so the desert would be a nice change.
As the coach began the climb into the Rif, I could not help but be amazed by the similarities between my own home geography and what I was seeing here in Morocco! I live in the high desert area of Los Angeles – Lancaster. As we came around each turn in the road, driving deeper and deeper into the Rif, I saw the green areas of Fez give way to a more arid landscape of gold and brown color rolling hills, dotted with cellular antennas. If I had not known I was in Morocco, I would have thought I was riding along the dry, northerly foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains. It was beautiful. We continued climbing and the earth grew darker starting to show signs of vegetation again. Soon the hills were dotted with Scrub Oaks, making me feel like I was in the coastal San Luis Obispo County.
The Rif gives way to the Middle Atlas Mountain range somewhere along here. We were well into the mountains when we started seeing the famous Cedar Forest and local souvenir vendors waiting for the tour coaches to stop so they could sell their wares. We did stop several times for site seeing and a short walk along the Cedar forest. The air was very crisp, clean and had the underlying spicy scent all forests have. Again, it was difficult to imagine I was in Morocco, it all seemed so familiar. Actually, I can same the same of the vendors too.
All along this route they followed the tour coaches so at every stop, you saw the same merchants with their little bit of precious treasures wrapped up in cloth and then laid out on display. They had many things from bowls and baskets to jewelry and other local artifacts. Once the Tour Director started herding the passengers back onto the coach that was the signal to the merchants to wrap up their goods, jump on their bicycles or motor scooters and rush to the next predetermined stop. It seems a difficult way to support oneself.
What is interesting about the activity is that it seems to be a natural and very social experience for them. They did not speak much English but did try and always had a smile on their face and were friendly. I have traveled some and may be less sensitive to the aggressive nature of the merchants. Their persistent offers did not bother me, but it really seemed to scare some of the women.
As we crested the top of a cedar covered incline we could see Ifrane shining in the sun like a mini Alpine village right there in Morocco! It made me think of Big Bear or Lake Arrowhead in the San Bernardino Mountains, just not quite as built up…but they are working on it. Ifrane (elevation about 5,400 feet) began to see a resurgence of interest to tourists as a ski resort in the 80’s when government services started to be offered, and then into the mid 90’s as a winter and summer destination when the Al Akhawayn University opened. Some of the old Swiss type chalets are being torn down to make way for condos and other tourist oriented housing and services.
A quick stop and we were on the road again. As we toured the Middle Atlas with breathtaking scenes of the snow covered Jebel Habbou, I saw the view change from thick forests to a more rugged and desolate looking landscape, reminiscent of the sharp, jagged rock formations of Indian Canyon in the Palm Springs area. As we came through one of the final passes on our climb out of the mountains, I saw white Arabic writing on the gently rolling hillsides. It turned out to be the crest of Morocco and the motto God (Allah), Country, King. This was soon to become a familiar site in this area. We stopped in the Berber town of Midelt for a wonderful lunch of chicken tagine or stew, with vegetables, soup, bread and mint tea. The food was healthy, wholesome, beautifully prepared and delicious!
A few more hours on the coach, provided the most beautiful vistas of windswept mountain sides, multi colored gorges and finally opened up to a most magnificent view of palm groves as far as you could see through the Ziz Valley. I saw people working and living in what appeared to be old, abandoned mud style buildings throughout the valley. I would later find out what a bustling community existed out of sight behind the high walls that formed the alleyways and footpaths around the settlements. A short stop at a Er-Rachida for a Coke and we finally made it to Erfoud.
I believe this place, Erfoud, is where I really began my love affair with Morocco. The hotel or Kasbah where we were staying was nice and the cottages assigned were comfortable but the night, oh the night! But for the sound of the gentle breeze and water softly lapping in the large outdoor, surface level pool, away from the main building the desert was so quite, the silence was almost deafening. It was unbelievably clear and the full moon so bright it was nearly blinding. It looked like it was close enough to touch. I donned the heavy djellaba I had purchased while in Fez and walked the grounds in the cool night. Something possessed me during that walk and caused a profound change. If Fez had seduced me into thinking I would be spending more time in this country, the nights of Erfoud guaranteed it. How could I know what was waiting for me once I got to Erg Chebbi?
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