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!