Monday
Just another sunrise in the Sahara. I feel a surprising tug on my heart. I don’t want to leave. But we pack our bags and the moment we’ve zipped them shut, 2 young men are at our door to take them to the car.
We are heading west, to Tafroute in the anti Atlas Mountains. The journey begins with 3 hours of desert driving, across miles-long dry lake beds and wadi, paralleling the Algerian border.
Blessed be the paved road. We stop in Foum Zguid for an early lunch. At a place with the best french fries in the Sahara. Huh. Just kinda your normal French fries. But the barbecued chicken skewers are tasty.
We go on, forever it seems. Winding our way through the dry, rocky mountains. Everything is parched. The rains are 2 weeks late and may never come. Global climate change. Crops that should be planted are not. Water use is restricted. No one can afford to go haul in a tank of water.
We stop for refreshment. I go for Moroccan tea, Grubb has nous, nous (half coffee, half foamed milk), Ali has espresso. There is a man sitting near who is regaling others in a loud voice. I ask Ali what he is saying. The man is telling others how to live and follow the five pillars of Islam. Which leads Ali ( who is single and says there is still plenty of time for marriage) to explain that before marriage, you are half completed religiously. To be fully complete, you must marry. Then you must start praying all the time and you can make your Hajj to Mecca.
We arrive in Tafroute a little after six. To a disappointing guest house. The beds are lumpy, the sheets scratchy, the Wi-Fi not available in our room, the dinner meager, and there is a party with screaming somewhere nearby. Ah well, it can’t all be sugar and spice.
Originally, we had intended to spend tomorrow (Tuesday) morning hiking but we have a sudden ache to get to the coast. Tomorrow, we’ll blow this joint and head to the Atlantic.