Eureka!

Ourika valley lays tucked away in mid-Morocco. After a whirlwind of changing buses and directions, I found my way to this arid strip of land and water. Lots of surprises were strewn about along the way.

For our first stop, we got to see exactly how berber pottery is made. They have a hand-spun stick on which two-day old clay of dough consistency was placed. The spinning wheel was foot operated, and the clay formed by hand and cut using string. Afterwards, 100 kilograms of wood per day fuelled the wood kiln, in which 300 pieces per day were baked for four hours to harden. Herbs and spices such as alfalfa and saffron provided the natural dye for the intricate designs as well. In the shop, various fossils and geodes from the Atlas mountains (housing the second highest mountain in Africa) also sat on display.

On the way down into the valley, we stopped for photos along the intersection between the Ourika river and the Atlas mountains. A quick stretch break, and we were off to an Argan Souad to learn how their precious oils are made by hand in a female cooperative (put in place to give mothers jobs because family obligations prevent moving to the city). The Argan tree fruit, also consumed by tree-climbing goats (link here) are hand crushed, ground, and milled to extract oil with water, and some Argan almonds are roasted to make "berber nutella".

We then saw a Berber house and mill wheel run by waterflow, which grounds grains archaically into flour. A woman cooked a tagine over a fire, and the valley brought water in next to her for dishwashing. In a spare room, there were pots full of oil and flour, and a hanging cask filled with milk to shake for 40 minutes at a time for making buttermilk.

Lots of bits and pieces used for various occasions such as marriages also laid about.

I became friends with the Germans on the tour, and we discussed visiting each other at some point if time allows. The three of them were working in finance, business, and industry respectively. We then went off to the Ourika Valley's starting point: a huge waterfall. 

Setti Fatma was the waterfall we went to, and arrived at after an hour hike uphill. The waterfall itself was beautiful and gave way to many beautiful sights the higher up the mountainside I hiked.

From here, my new friends and I watched monkeys run across logs abreast the river, listened to musicians playing their one string fiddle, and on the way back to town, even saw a man chasing downhill after his donkey. African animals are definitely independent thinkers.

After a long travel, and much anxiety from street vendors, i haggled a cheap taxi and got to the airport for my flight back to London. I got home at three in the morning and promptly crashed. Good night, and see you all again soon!

Out of the Desert

We woke up to the sound of drums and the sun rising over the Saharan mountains. Jam bread, strong tea, and warm coffee greeted us on the cold morning, and we once again braced our camels to head back to the main road.

I soaked in the beauty of the surrounding landscape, knowing that if my camel took off and I plummeted to the ground, I would die a happy person. Just as we hit the halfway point, we saw three dogs barking and chasing after two mortified camels, and two berber men in turn running after the camels. It was comedy gold that I had to miss recording so as to not fall off of camelback. We reached the road, tipped the berbers, wished them farewell, and hit the road for Casbah on Hill, Ourzazate.

This berber town of migrants was built in the 17th century from traded over Yemenese adobe clay and straw.

The Berbers have no written language, so all of their thoughts were expressed in artwork. Although the high walls were once built to fend off attackers, the city is no longer dangerous- caravans pass through here safely for gold and silver trade under government administration. In 1956 the last official governor ruler helped them out in this regard. Lots of movies are sho in this town, and our tour guide Mohamed was an extra soldier and interpreter in Cleopatra. Of all the labguages he speaks, he prefers English because of listening to hip hop.

Because of what it is, anyone could buy land for for 300€ before movies were shot here. Now the land cost is closer to 40,000€. Jean Claude Van Damme shot a movie here and the people gave him whatever he and his cast needed. However, Moroccans would blast music to hustle them for money before police would cone, since begging was otherwise illegal.

Concerning these houses, people dig deeper cellars to stay cool in 50C summers. Modern houses have come in since 1917 for new people. They continue to use straw to prevent cracks in adobe during the adobe heat.

We were then shown various Ghilim and glawa carpets done by one woman to close off doors in tents. We had tea and browsed wares, and I walked away with a less-than-cheap tea set and oil lamp. We had lunch, i finally managed to withdraw money, and I saw more of the beautiful Moroccan landscape as I held deep conversation with another traveler all the way back down to Marrakech.

When I returned, I actually managed to overcome my anxieties of unfamiliarity and find my way back to my Riad without getting haggles and without getting lost. I left for my next Riad, unpacked, had more Moroccan Mint Tea, and left for a familiar sight: Northern Europeans.

Chez Brahim is along Derb Dabachi, a busy off-street filled with both motorcycles and pedestrians everywhere. The restaurant itself is quaint, artsy, and extremely Berber. Here, bread and chili sauce are served together as an appetizer and garam masala replaces pepper as a table condiment (as it should be). I had some veggie berber tagine, tipped my hat to the restaurant's prompt service (and similarity to the actual berbers I stayed with), and headed home to rest up for an action-packed day ahead.

Next up: Ourika Valley!

The Crest of the World

On my first full day in Morocco, We drove into the Atlas and then into the Sahara. The drive started in Marrakech and eventually found us driving towards the Atlas mountains.

We eventually climbed so high that there was snow on the mountains and the faint promise of clouds below us, proud along the mountainous background. We were in Col de Kotchka's remit, 2 and a half kilometers above sea level. High in the Atlas mountains, it was here that I found myself lost in their visage.

And so, around 2.6 kilometers up, we came to an amazing vista. Mountains surrounded us on all sides, and the valley gave way to - you guessed it - even more mountains. It was as though time had stopped. I was breathless (and not just because of the altitude).

We passed through our first high-mountain village (which blew my mind to see anybody lived up there) and eventually arrived at our first location and lunch stop: Ksair Ait Ben Haddou (Castle Berbers of Haddou) Prince of Persia and Game of Thrones were shot here. The new part was built seven years prior to my coming for the muslim berbers- the surviving castle houses sixty five, mostly jewish berbers. The views from the top were the single best I had ever seen.

After being used as a scarf model, we were taken to the restaurant to soup up for our saharan adventure. I sat with a table full of French-speaking individuals, all of whom would become friends despite my lack of French language comprehension. It was also on this day that I learned that my lack of paper currency would complicate things wherever I went in this country, as almost everywhere only accepts cash.

And so we drove to Zagora, a little desert town, where we would use the toilet and head to the Sahara. Once at the Sahara, our five new Berber friends put us all on camels, and I got to ride an animal for the first time in nearly 15 years (the last being a pony). We had a simple dinner of tagine, soup, and fruit, after a Moroccan mint tea ceremony and cleaning the saharan sand out of our eyes.

The tents got rather cold that night, but after a long day of traveling and musical performances (where the Berbers catered to us Spanish speakers by performing Shakira and Juanes), we didn't care. My roommates were three girls from Seville, and by the end of the night, I could hardly remember any English. We chatted about everything under the sun, and I further developed my Spanish social skills.

Stay tuned for the following day!

Ana Atakalum Maroco

After returning from Wales, I almost immediately set out for Gatwick Airport to depart for Morocco. My best friend from elementary school recommended the city of Marrakech to me as a nice March getaway. So, I headed to the airport and boarded a plane to visit Africa for the first of hopefully many times.

When I arrived and sorted out my data usage, I stumbled blindly to the bus into town. I paid the bus driver using British Pounds, which otherwise do not work here (as my silly self had forgotten to withdraw local currency). That was fascinating. One thing's for sure: this country Definitely caters to tourists.

I quickly learned that money is money regardless. As I had my suitcase was on me, I was an easy target for ruffians. The first of which was a man who swindled me after leading me to the Riad I was staying at, nearly mugging me with his friend in tow. Fortunately, the Riad’s owner came to the rescue.

After my anxiety dropped, I met the Riad owner and had food and Moroccan mint tea that they had prepared for me. It was one of the finest feasts I had ever had in my entire life, here at Riad 107.

We sorted out the payment and went up to the terrace to talk more and for me to have my first real hookah experience. I have never really smoked tobacco before, so the headrush was immense and lovely.

I retired to bed and prepped myself for a nice getaway into the desert the next day. Stay tuned for more…

Bristol

As it was on my way home from Cardiff, I decided to pay Bristol a visit, where I would meet up with one of my university friends. She was up there visiting family and friends for our consolidation week.

After being stuck in traffic, we parked in a local shopping center and walked towards the harbor. She showed me several old churches and boats and told me about their backstories. I took in as much of it as i could with what time I had.

And so, We found a place for dinner and headed there. It was a dinner of desserts and coffee, which would be more than enough to fill me up before my voyage back to London.

And so in four hours, i got my first taste of Bristol. I will be back that way in the near future if time and money allow.