Memories of Morocco - Part VII - From oasis to desert by bike and by camel

Today is oasis day! We ride our first Moroccan highway (the roads are never busy because there are just not very many vehicles in this country) to a roadside stop where everyone regroups including our injured friends riding in the van.  We drink mint tea and snack on dried fruit and nuts. Moroccan dried fruit, the dates in particular, are the freshest you will ever taste!

After the break, there is one short climb over a mountain pass and then the road flattens and winds through the next village. As we ride through town, we pass a bunch of boys out playing ball. As we continue on, there are suddenly palm trees everywhere. The Draa Valley is home to the largest date palm groves in all Morocco.

Palm groves

Oasis lunch stop

We stop for lunch in this lovely oasis. There is lots of time to lounge around and drink tea. But then, it is off to the next town, this time on lovely dirt roads. The contoured edges of the mountains flank us on either side and the land becomes dry rubble once again. At the next town, as usual we are stopped by kids excited at the site of visitors on bikes. They want to take our bikes for a quick spin. We oblige and let me ride down the road to the crest of the hill and then turn around. This could have gone on all day but we must move on.

Bike-crazy kids

Scotty says we will ride for about 15 minutes but his estimate is off by more than an hour. Our lovely dirt road soon becomes full-on washboard, jarring enough to vibrate your fillings loose. There is nowhere on the road – or off - that is smooth. We are in wide open spaces and the headwind is unmerciful – a desert windstorm. After well over an hour of this, I am relieved to see Scotty just outside of town waiting finding refuge from the wind behind a building. It is getting late, so the van must pick us up and take us to through the town of Zagora where a caravan of camels awaits.

We are each assigned a camel and we climb on still dressed in our cycling clothes. The sun is warm but the whipping wind is cool. The camels are kneeling on the sand with layers of heavy blankets on their backs. There is a horizontal bar to hold onto. When the camel stands up, her rear goes up first tipping you forward, so you better be holding on to the bar! The camel drivers lead us out onto the road before crossing into the flat open desert.

Camel caravan

Riding camels is not a fast mode of transport. As such it takes about 45 minutes to travel less than 4 kilometers. But inefficiency aside, it was a unique experience, at least for me! As the sun set behind us, the long shadows cast by Canadians on camel-back led by Berber camel drivers was an image that I would not soon forget. As the pancake flat desert drifted into rolling sand dunes, a cluster of Berber tents, set up in a quadrangle configuration, appeared in the distance. This semi-permanent camp, made up of 10 sleeping tents containing one double and one single bed, one dining tent, and shower and toilet tents, was where we would be spending the night. This camp was obviously set up for soft North Americans and Europeans who don't like the idea of sleeping on the ground.

Berber campsite

The desert sunset was exceptional. After biding farewell to our camels, it is time to shower and change in time for dinner. It was so windy, we had dinner in the dining tent instead of outside. Our Berber host Rasheed, a large man who demonstrated his pride in his country by periodically shouting “Africa!”, did everything: he was chief cook and bottle washer, not to mention drummer and singer. After another amazing Moroccan feast, we sat outside around the fire and listened to three Berber men sing and play drums under the stars. Although we couldn't understand the words, there was pure joy in the music they created. They encouraged us to drum and sing with along with them. 

That night we slept soundly under heavy blankets breathing in the fresh air.