Swamped with sweetness

29^th and 30^th March

Yesterday we had a swim and a shower before setting off to our new friends in Attouia. Its another world here in the campsite, more like camping in a Mediterranean resort than being in Morocco! Its a beautiful day and we stop for a quiet lunch in an olive grove beside the road. We arrive in Attouia to be met by Mohamed who takes us shopping before heading for his mums house. We are caught up in a cycle race and have to stop a hundred yards from the house to let them all pass! Then we are here again. Everyone is waiting and so happy to see us. We are welcomed as before, like long lost family, part of the family! Adam is received like a long lost brother , returned from a long journey away.

We are given a tour around the farm which includes milking a cow and sitting on a donkey, holding chickens and seeing a plasterer, Abdul Ali, at work. All with such pleasure. Next, a walk through the green fields and a chance to practice our shooting skills with a 12 bore shotgun, as you do when on holiday in Morocco! The evening meals are a starter of Targine which is enough for all, followed by a dish of cous cous large enough to feed an army, which is what we are as we amount to 15 people or more in this lovely sitting room! I amuse the family gathering by playing guitar and singing some impromptu tunes of thanks which seems to go down well, accompanied by Abdul Ali and Zara on drums. We get to bed with far to much food in our bellies, completely swamped with the sweetness of these good people.

On to today, I'm sitting in bed finding the time to write the blog. Its not easy to find a quiet moment as all moments seem to be full! We wake to a knock on the van door, its Mohamed. Breakfast is ready, come on, the day has begun. Its time to get going, after a lovely breakfast of pancakes and honey, we set off into town to do some shopping for our planned pique nique at the barrage. All sorts of goodies are bought by Mohamed who after all is a local. He shops with ease and soon we are on our way into the hills, to the barrage we came to the other day. Its another warm and sunny day, Mustafa and his wife and child, Siham and Doo ah, come along for the day. We set up under the trees in the shade and start preparing the feasts to come! While the girls set up the sitting area and cuisine, I take off the motor bike and the three lads have a go. Each of them enjoying themselves, especially Mustafa who has obviously fallen for the bike. Letting them play is a small price to pay for their kindness. All is well and nobody hurts themselves, so on goes the bike again while the chicken is served and the feast begins.

We spend the whole afternoon alongside this lovely reservoir in the shade of the eucalyptus trees, chatting and walking and then more eating! A lamb targine has been prepared and cooks quietly all afternoon while the turtles sun themselves at the waters edge and the bird life sings to itself, ' Its lovely here'!

We return to Attouia prepared for a small fete at sidi Hamed but unfortunately its off so we settle for a blessing and a walk around the grave of Hamed with a smile and labes with all the visitors hoping to have a healing or just plain good luck. Its all so wonderfully traditional without a tourist in site, well except for us of course. We have a coffee in town before returning to mums house for another round of 15 people eating together, chatting, laughing and delighting in each others company. Its quite overwhelming, very tiring and absolutely unforgettable! How are we ever going to move on? They want us to stay for ever! Which of course is just not possible!

So we will stay another day and be swamped a little more!

all our love

Ted, Krysia and Adam

Adams with us at Marakech

28^th March

What a contrast! We swim in a lovely pool and sunbath in the hot sun. Bikini clad girls and brown bodies are a strange sight to us as we take a break from our moroccan adventures and laze in an atmosphere more akin to the french riviera! Many other travellers are doing the same as us and relaxing in the sun. We all slept well enough to take on a visit into Marrakech in the afternoon, braving the onslaught of tourist traps with delight. Adam and Krysia both handle themselves well and shop freely without having to buy! We have a late lunch on a terrace above the streets, enjoying delicious food at good prices. Krysia bought a lovely set of 4 plates with gorgeous islamic patterns and is chuffed with her purchase. We found a lovely lad named Abdul who used a foot lathe to make small wooden charms using his feet with a dexterity to be marvelled at. He was a lovely boy who took pride in his work and I had to have some of his wares. I bought five of his lovely Gigi's which have a genie of happiness in each one! Adam bought a couple of fez hats as all good tourist should and he looks real fine in them, well one of them at a time that is! We wandered outside the medina into the back streets, finding tourist free areas that found our presence a little confusing. 'There's nothing this way' people would say but 'we're not looking for anything' we'd reply! 'This way to the tannery', ' we don't want to go to the tannery!' A chap followed us all the way to the tannery, telling us the way at various places only for us to leave him bemused when we left him standing at the tannery! We told you we didn't want the etc etc etc' . They just can't leave us alone. Walking the real deal is much more our style and we tire ourselves out before catching the taxi back to our van. 5 hours in Marrakech is enough for us and Adam is delighted at the variety of his first full day in Morocco.

He's so happy that we've let him put three pictures on the blog today, I think he wants my job!

The longest days

So here I sit in A campsite in Marrakech, wondering to myself how to put the adventures of the last three days into one blog. Its the first opportunity I've had to write and its quite an adventure to tell!

On the Thursday24th we took a road from Skoura, near Ouazarzate to cross the High Atlas Mountain range. We knew it was a small road but had had it on 'good ' advice that it was a sound route. It soon became obvious that a small road through the Atlas is not for the faint hearted! We've not driven a road like this before and concentration was high. It's a one track road so we were lucky that traffic was non existent! The evidence of landslides were constant and we were relieved that the weather was fair. Over passes and back down into valleys we hoped each climb was the last before reaching our destination. And then, while climbing a steep section of hairpin bends, it happened! The van started shuddering and loosing power. Something was wrong and we were about to breakdown which we did! She spluttered around a few more bends before coming to a halt. A fuel problem I thought and we tried to gather ourselves together to try and find the fault. We were on a bend which had just enough space to park so called action and busily we both jumped to the task at hand.

I haven't bled the fuel system for a while on the merc but I knew what to do, I tried to undo a small glass fuel filter to see if dirt was in the fuel and I broke it. Horror of horrors, I've made things worse but something had to be done, we're about 7000ft high and 30 miles from the nearest town! We're in trouble!

So this is how it went: A man in car stopped another man in a car who took us to the local town 30 miles away. He left a monk in our van for safe keeping! As you do ! He phoned ahead for a mechanic to meet us at Demnate who was there when we arrived an hour later, 7 ish pm. Mustafa speaks Morrocan so two lads, Mohamed and Tarik, came along to translate and give moral support. The same man, Abdul, Took us back up into the mountains with Mustafa and co following behind. What a drive! At the van, Mustafa got to work and repaired the broken glass filter with araldite before reassembling the now cleaned filter and with difficulty, eventually started our lovely van. We all jumped for joy, shouting with delight yes, yes, yes she's started! The offending dirty fuel is most likely the very same fuel I bought in the mountains two days ago! From the pipe coming out of the mud wall! what a fool I was but its so easy in hindsight to judge. The journey back to flat ground was eventful with the van often spluttering with difficulty. Mohamed, a charming lad of 23, kept our spirits high with constant joy and contempt to problems, ' Its not a problem' he kept smiling at us, 'Mustafa will fix your van , no problem' ' just a little problem, thats all! ' So we joined in his spirit and at 1 am we arrived at his mothers house, where food and beds were waiting for us! They are lovely people and we all eat around the table with Krysia and I dazed and very tired. This was the end to a very long day.

Friday 25th March.

now starts the day of enormous hospitality. Of kindness and spirit of a sort We've not experienced before. Today, Mustafa replaced all fuel filters and cleaned the fuel tank! It took the best part of the day and we were taken care of by Mohamed his mum Rachida and the ever increasing family members that kept on appearing in this small group of humble dwellings in the countryside of Attouia near Marrakech. They are a farming based people with very strong family ties. They are delighted to help us and feed us constantly with happiness and cous cous! We are overwhelmed with kindness. Confused by their naturally generous customs, we are not in debt to them, they are honoured to have us as their guests in our time of need. We are in their hands and are confused by such generosity. We are very tired and need to recover, yet the constant chat and many meals keep coming and we need to sleep. Mustafa turns up with the van and we are delighted, Its fixed and he doesn't seem to want any money for all his help????? Give me strength, let me pay for your help, please. So I give him 50 quid and he receives it gracefully.

Krysia has her hands and feet henna'd! As you do, a beautiful job. One of the many events that serve to draw these last 24 hours out into seemingly weeks!!!! In just one day! We insist on sleeping in the van and finding our space. Another very long day.

Saturday 26th, We have to leave today as Adam arrives in the morning at the airport. Not before a full day of events including a Haman and some shooting practice. We left at 7 pm, far to late in the day really but the drive was straight and we were parked up by 9 pm. We need to be alone as living in such intense hospitality is very tiring. Yet we will never forget the nature of these good people and in fact will take Adam to meet them!

Sunday27th

Its a warm sunny afternoon and both Krysia and Adam are asleep, I am glad to have had this chance to write the blog as these last few days have been the most demanding and delightful of the trip so far. We are glad to be alive and well, with good health and good friends. We wish all of you the same grace in life.

lots of love

The wild and daring but at times a little bit silly Beynons

6500ft High in the Atlas Mountains

23^rd March

A chilly night! So with thermals on, we face the waiting parade of Ibrahim's 3 children patiently standing outside the van. We have become their friends and are eager to spend more time with us. Ibrahim too is keen to include us in today and suggests a walk to a cave, followed by some lunch! We agree but say we are leaving this afternoon as we need to progress towards Marrakech. ( And get our bearings lower down ! ) The 6 of us set off, stopping to say salam to everyone we meet. The old and the young alike are ready for a quick chat. The two older girls, Miriam 9 and Ayesha 8 have to turn back as they have school today. Hasnou aged 5, leads us with a happy nature rarely seen in a child! She doesn't stop laughing and skipping the mile or more it takes us to reach the cave. She loves having her photo taken and squeals with delight every time I show her another shot. She is a bubbling ball of happy energy and is a joy to be with. The cave is also at a natural spring and we drink heartily from the clear cold mountain water. Delicious! I make conversation with Ibrahim as best I can about all things relating to living in this mountain paradise. Life is hard up here but values are high and community strong. Women and men have more defined roles here, not quite what we aspire to in Europe. Manual labour is as much a womens task as a mans, in fact they seem to work harder in the fields and men do seem to sit around and chat a lot! There is an obvious sense of community pervading the atmosphere here and young people glow with youth in spite of their meager possessions! Or is it because of the lack of them? To us, they all appear to have something we have lost yet they no doubt want the very things we loose ourselves in. Krysia and I cannot grasp the meaning of wealth here. Are these people very poor? We seem to ooze affluence while they proudly hold their heads up high dressed in colourful towels and holey socks. Its cold up here and yet we spent last night in the family room with no heating and cold feet. The meals are good but the meat content is tiny and is shared equally among all. We are honoured to be here and are treated as true guests.

After lunch, a photo shoot is asked for by Lehoe, she seems keen to have many pictures taken of her new 2 month old baby, Eemen, as well as herself, Hasnou and her husband. I flash off many shots with her encouraging me to take more. Ibrahim reckons we could set up shop here as many people would want their family pictures taken. We all like to show off the family albums! How much could one charge? The mind boggles. It would be typical of krysia and I to set up a business where one gives away the product for free!!!

We say our goodbyes with many a thankyou. As Ibrahim says 'surprise visits are better than planned ones'. We offer to send him clothes and photographs as after being fed three meals, tea and a guided tour, we feel like returning the hospitality somehow. We must not forget.

The descent is incredible. Hard to believe that these people use these roads on a daily basis! They are in a fair state of repair but landslides and flooding take their toll and some stretches are as scintillating as any we've encountered anywhere! The van goes very well and we are at a more reasonable level within an hour. I'm sure one gets used to these roads with familiarity but first time round, WOW!!!

I'm posting two blogs from here at Boumaine-ed-Dades as there is full internet signal so extra photos too! See blog below for yesterdays epic journey to get here. (24th March today )

On to the Dades valley

22^nd March

Woke to another fine sunny day. Said our fairwells to Burkhart and Sabina as we are both off on our own travels today. We drove to Boumaine de Dades which is at the start of the Dades valley. A souk was in progress and supplies were needed so we took in the atmosphere of this friendly town.

The drive up the valley immediately became extraordinary! The winding road through ancient ksours and palmeries led us into geological wonders strewn with houses and boulders, hotels and gorges ending the 30 kms at the gorge de Dades. Rather touristy to say the least, so we drive up the impressive and quite famous hairpin bends which have been a dream of mine for several years now. The van goes well and takes the 180 degree turns with ease. Arriving at the top we find, needless to say, a road which goes on into the Atlas and we prefer the idea of staying somewhere more tranquil. So we drive on 30 kms more along high mountain roads up to where we already know the tarmac road finishes and true piste takes over. On the way, 5 young entrepreneurs pop out from nowhere, and offer their wares enthusiastically!
Fossils monsieur? How could we refuse their charms. So we buy a fossil from each of them and wish them well and they us!

Its as far as we can go on this road, we know but go a little farther just to see whats around another set of hairpin bends! We also could use some fuel, not a problem but I do like a nice full tank! We are told the next village has diesel so aim for that. If we were expecting a fuel station we were to be disappointed, what we found was a fuel pipe coming out of the side of a mud building and a shopkeeper happily willing to sell us fuel. How much would I like? 30 litres I say, no problem. He puts the pipe into my tank and takes me into a room where he pumps 5 litres at a time , ensuring I watch the amount going in. At 25 litres I overflow and enough is pumped. The tank is full and I am delighted at the experience. The finest fuel station we have yet to see. He needs some change so runs off to another shop. He returns and the service is complete.

It is now we meet Ibrahim, the other shop keeper who invites us to park outside his shop and have some tea. How could we refuse, its getting on for 5 oclock and we need a rest after these incredible roads. After tea in his house, his wife, Lehoe makes us a dish of scrambled eggs and bread which we eat with pleasure. Ibrahim speaks french as well as Arabic and Berber, Lehoe only speaks Berber so the usual translations are in order and many looks are shared as we stumble through conversation. Now my french isn't great but without it we couldn't converse above hello and how are you! So I do my best to understand and chat as best I can. Would we like to have supper with them? Well, what can we say? Should we decline politely or accept gracefully? We are only concerned about doing the right thing! So we accept and dinner is at 8!

To fill up an hour, we walk the dark streets of this high Atlas village, Ait Margad, chatting to everyone we meet. It might be dark but we feel totally safe here and are greeted with many a labes and ca va. With very little street lighting, these tiny shops erupt with life as we pass by. Not for us, they appear to be meeting places for locals to chat! At 8 we turn up at Ibrahim's shop and sit in his tiny 'boutique' of general supplies and chat with locals until 9! Supper takes an hour or so. The whole family sits on the floor with us and eats the large dish of cous cous Lehoe has prepared, washed down with glasses of Moroccan whisky naturally! ( tea in case you wondered ). We got to our beds absolutely exhausted as you can imagine. It's been a very long day, a quite extraordinary day for us! Its also very cold here with snow on the mountain tops so extra blankets are in order.

Wishing you all a warm goodnight brrrrr

A walk to the Todra Gorge and Pistenkuh

20th and 21stMarch

Yesterday's walk to the gorge was unexpected. We had thought we would go and see the old fellow in the garden and see what comes from that. He wasn't there so we started walking up the valley to see how far we could go in the palmerie. As it turned out, we found our way the 5 kms or so to the gorge without too many problems. Crossing the river several times over palm bridges we wended our way through the fertile fields along narrow paths which separate small gardens full of crops. We passed through old ksours, so run down you wouldn't believe people still live in them. The valley grew narrower as we reached the top and arrived at the popular tourist destination of the Todra gorge. It wasn't too busy and we ambled through the 1000 ft high cliffs without any nuisance from touts which was lovely. We sat by the side of a natural spring which is the source of the river which passes our campsite, taking in the heady atmosphere of this huge crack in the mountains. Returning via the road, we said many hellos to all sorts of friendly folk and were even offered a lift by a passing Moroccan which we politely refused. As the sun set, we called in on the little chap we met yesterday in his garden. To say hello and to give him a set of photographs of himself we took yesterday. He hid them in a crack in a tree and then found a piece of paper in a hole in the wall which had his address written on. We said our goodbyes.

Today, through asking the help of a fellow camper, we got to know Burkhart and Sabina. I needed a grease pump which I had forgotten and they looked like the sort of people who would carry one. Before using the pump we found ourselves chatting for hours. We four have had many experiences and are receptive to our shared life's stories. They have become travellers for the last seven years throughout Africa, India and and Arabia and have been documenting their experiences, which have grown from a slide show and a blog to a full blown web site and an income to support their passion. All grown out of being alive and having a purpose which changes every day as the sun rises but remains a focal point for the duration. Lovely people sharing stories with lovely people! We are all lovely people! If you would like to follow their journey's, go to www.pistenkuh.de and let google translate it for you , it's in German. And if you've found my blog interesting theirs will blow you away! Maybe our blog will grow too with time.?

We spent the evening with them in their huge vehicle, finding many topics of shared interest and enjoying these openly unassuming folks company.

Like them, we will move on tomorrow to see what comes next. For us, we head towards Marrakech to pick up Adam on Sunday. We will be there Adam!

Lots of love to you all

Ted and Krysia

Days in the Palmerie

18th & 19th March

Yesterday, we investigated the palmerie across the stream from the campsite. A stroll we had in mind but as usual an epic was to unfold! We soon came to the walls of the old ksour, which stretches out for a mile or more. Totally deserted and crumbling into dust, this epic structure hugs the side of the valley like a forgotten city. Nobody lives here now whereas everybody used to live here. But there is no road this side of the river and progress demanded change and a road. The town now hugs the other side of the valley and the use of cement will prolong their lifespan without the need for 'remudding', saying that, we have come across plenty of evidence for traditional building techniques being kept alive.

We wandered the valley above the ksour in the hot sun in awe of the views and the decaying past below us. Before sunstroke could take hold, we found safe entry into the old town. Whole communities lived here and now we can stroll in and out of their old dwellings without hindrance. It feels strange, like someone is going to tell us off for trespass or say that its dangerous. Through old doorways we find access to the palmerie and quiet, tranquil greenery. Women work the fields, chatting to themselves while we gaze in delight at the swarms of dragonflies and flocks of swallows all eating their fill of the clouds of insects. Its so fertile here, in stark contrast to the landscape surrounding the palmerie which is as barren as the moon appears to be! A true oasis in the desert is the Todra valley.

Today, we went to town, Tinerhir, for supplies, a wander and some lunch. Its got a lovely real feel here, walking the backstreets among the welders and woodworkers, cheery hellos are offered with nothing but smiles and salam's. Foods are as always fresh and cheap, dates are available by the bucketfull. We love dates! A brochette at a small cafe keeps hunger at bay followed by a homemade yoghurt at another little shop, tops off our mid day outing. Not forgetting our first ever shoe shine, which felt really strange. A young man was so keen to do the task and our bike boots did need it, so we bartered a fair price and he did an excellent job. We paid him double! He beamed with delight and skipped off to tell his friends. We were humbled and reminded of our own young man who never had the chance to be a shoe shiner, life in all its forms is life!

Late in the afternoon we take another wander through the palmerie, further up the valley this time. We return innocently, unaware of the delight about to befall us. Out of a doorway from the old ksour, an old fella pops out and invites us to come inside the walls to his garden! Well ok, we say and all 5 ft of him enthusiastically leads us into his garden of eden. He babbles away in french, with little time to listen as he shows us his methods of date fertilization!, nothing sinister, and oven baking methods in a traditioal mud oven. He has 8 children and used to live in the old ksour before the evacuation took place. This is the old garden to his house and he obviously misses the old neighbourhood.

He then quickly removes his shoes and tells us to watch, while he runs up to a palm tree and starts scaling it at full pelt!!! Shock horror as he reaches the top, does a circle on the high branches and comes down as quick as monkey! We are dumbstruck and enquire to his age? 80! what?!?! 80 he repeats. He grins at us with pride at showing us what he's been doing all his life ' Now if I take my jelaba off, you should see how quick I am!' Hold it there old fella, we are well impressed already! He then offers to take us, tomorrow, on a mountain walk! We wonder if we have the stamina to keep up with him? He politely shows us back to the campsite and says goodbye. We took photos and film of his antics and had to look at them to confirm it all happened, if it was a dream, it was a good one and we have photos to prove it!

Fantastic!

Goodnight

love Ted aand Krysia

In the Todra Gorge

17th March

Three things stand out today! Which is nice.

Firstly, just being here! We are in a palmerie, its ever so beautiful and we woke to watch the sunrise on the mountain tops and have our breakfast in the morning warmth. It's hard to know what to do with such loveliness other than be in it, so we do. Palm trees full of dates, birds singing, a river running right next to the van and good health. It feels like paradise. Well, it is but the world keeps spinning and the day slowly passes so after lunch we decide to drive the bike up the gorge to see what we can find.

Secondly, the drive is full of mystery and surprises. Straight away this fertile valley surrounded by ancient buildings and modern dwellings, hugging the gorge sides, creating an environment straight out of a dream. Women working the fields while children play, the men sitting around chatting, no doubt about important things! And the tourist buses bring up the visitors by the score to wander around in awe at this very traditional place. At the gorge entrance, a vertical opening of 1000ft high perhaps 50 ft wide, shops line the roadside selling the usual trinkets. Upon entering these dizzy heights, a hotel appears nestled in this huge crevasse bustling with life! Tour busses stop to let even more visitors off to admire the heady cliffs and even more stalls appear as we quickly come out into the more normal gorge, 1000ft high just not vertical. Groups of climbers are stuck to the cliffs like spiders and theres even an ambulance standing by just in case. This is a very popular destination. We soon leave this circus behind and follow the gorge for 10 beautiful miles before arriving at the village of Tamtattouchte, another world, high in the Atlas, where the women wear thick colourful blankets and are as strikingly beautiful as any on earth. We stop to take in the keen air and admire our surroundings. Soon we are surrounded by young people and children and manage to make reasonable communication with them. A land that time forgot? I think not, the communication aerials on the highest hill ensure excellent mobile phone coverage and no doubt internet access. Morocco has made sure all its population are not cut off from information and opportunity. There are trekking centres up here, campsites and auberges. They are happy for us to be here.

We slowly coast down the 10 miles, through the gorge and on to campsite, stopping for supplies at a small shop. This brings me to the 3rd lovely event of the day. Shopping!

The owner was outside and pleasantly opened up his small shop for us. Have you any bread we asked? yes, my wife bakes it in the oven and I'll go and get it for you. He leaves us in his shop unattended for 5 minutes and proudly returns with a large round loaf wrapped in cloth. His two beautiful young daughters accompany him to see these two odd bikers along with the local 'man of the mosque'. I ask, 'have you any corn flakes?' 'Corn Flakes? what are corn Flakes?' He askes. Now how do you explain what a corn flake is in french and Berber to someone who hasn't got the faintest idea whar you are talking about! Laugh, we were all in stitches. Like soup, like rice? with milk in a bowl for breakfast??? ' little bits of corn, like crisps but no salt' ! It turned into a guessing game for all and of course, they may eat ''corn flakes'' in other parts of Morocco but they have never heard of them here! Another delightful shopping experience with lessons and laughter and friends made. The very best of Morocco.

We cook a targine for supper over a charcoal burner while listening to the sound of the river and watching the moon rise.

Goodnight to all

Love

Ted and Krysia

The Desert to the Todra Gorge

Krysia woke up before it was light and went out onto the dunes to watch the sunrise. I couldn't miss that now could I? So I joined her, along with several other tourists scattered along the dunes to watch the break of day. The opportunist sellers were out too and needed to be told the obvious, 'do I look like I want to buy a trinket at this time of the morning?' They are so persistent but are only trying to earn a living so we are pleasant but firm. ' La Shukran'

We packed up and left by mid-day knowing that Merzouga has left its mark on us, we've really enjoyed this quirky place. The dunes, the black hamada,the town and the people have all added to the pleasure of being here.

We drive north for the first time since we left Wales which means that the sun is behind us and not glaring in our faces. The dunes soon disappear and the seemingly endless hamada takes over. There is just so much space here, swarms of dragonflies fill the air as we drive, willing them not to hit our windscreen. Dust devils spring up and a mini sandstorm erupts and the wind, the strong sahara wind is a force you have to reckon with. We drove through the middle of one such swirl and as we passed, it felt like a juggernaut was going by with the change of air pressure, I really had to hold on tight. A village sprung out of the dust, in full souk fever! we drove through the middle of it in awe of the chaos and colour. A desert stretch of wind and dust revealed a series of wells with Toureg nomads setting up their tents in this barren oven. Black folds of lava rock are all around to the south while the snow capped peaks of the High Atlas are to the north. What a drive, to arrive at the splendid town of Teneghir nestled in the palmerie at the foothills of the Todra gorge. We shop and then drive up into the valley and camp at a lovely site just 5 kms from the gorge itself. We will find out tomorrow what delights it holds in store for us.

Phew, what a day.

Sleep well

love Ted and Krysia

Shadows in the wind

14^th and 15^th March

We've been here a week now and will probably move on in the morning. Yesterday was sandstorm day!Very exciting but very sandy! We tried walking but it didn't work out, we stayed in the van mostly and made some desert paintings while the wind howled. With cabin fever setting in by late afternoon, we drove the bike! to Merzouga to get out and get supplies. Driving through a sandstorm is a bit like driving in a blizzard but substitute sand for snow and you get the idea. The Moroccans certainly go out in it, they have to. Town was quiet! The shops were closed and it seemed like the Moroccans don't go out in it. So we had a coffee in a cafe and waited until a shop opened, which it did, locals telling us that it is normal in the desert for the wind to blow. We're from wales Hamed, we know all about wind. And slowly town got busier as the elongated siesta came to an end. Back to the van safely and batten down the hatches for a night in. Like every other night!

We woke this morning to less wind and blue skies, so walked north to an oasis and another village. Here tourism’s ugly side was more visible, quad bikes and campsites, auberges and hustlers clogging an otherwise ordinary village. The oasis was beautifully quiet, crops growing, water running and life as it's always been. But the village? Well, a bit sad but we're sure it must be bringing in work for the locals which must be a good thing.

After lunch we drove the bike out onto the lake which are now mud flats, where there would be flamingo's if there was water. We let the space soak into our veins as our time here in the desert is coming to a close. We've never been anywhere like this before, dust devils swirl on the horizon as the sun sets, a dead camel lies in the mud grinning at us, cos he knows it's only a matter of time for us all!

We set off for the van, leaving the smirking bones to their lonesome night, for tomorrow is another day and when it arrives, we'll make the most of it. It's all one long day anyway with many sleeps to break it up, so we'll take a break now and wish you goodnight and may everyday be a good one.

Lots of love

Ted and Krysia (who took the two photos on this blog)

Desert Days

12^th and 13^th March

Two days spent on just being here beside and in the dunes. Very warm yesterday, so we made the most of it by doing a bit of sunbathing, reading, washing and van maintenance. Has to be done.

Went for a long walk out into the dunes to watch the sunset from the top of the highest dune. We were not alone and it took a while to blank out the motorbikes and quads which zoom about the dunes a bit like jet-ski’s do in mumbles. Everyone here is enjoying the same thing in their own way. It's very beautiful and from the top of the dune the view is spectacular. On the horizon, dust devils swirl on the mud flats we visited yesterday as the heat whips up a mini storm. Looking east towards Algeria, we can see the mountains that take over from the dunes. At their widest, Erg Chebbi are about 7 miles across and 27 miles long. Still just a pond of dunes in comparison to the vast expanse of sahara that start in Algeria and goes on until Egypt, I think? They are big enough for us to wander through with no chance of getting lost! Famous last words, what if a sandstorm blew up like yesterday, dummy?!

Today was windy and warm, so apart from a trip into Merzouga for supplies, we were again based around the van. The shopping is always interesting. Shopkeepers, salts of the earth, all seem to take great delight in educating us in language and culture. Today's lessons included when to eat dates and how many Rials there are in a Dirham. Dates, I tell him, I can eat from morning til night. Oh no, our prophet only ate them after sunset so, so do we! Mmm I'm not Muslim fortunately so I'll carry on with my regime. And Rials is what all these Moroccans count in, add up our shopping in and occasionally tell us the price in, hoping we won't notice that you divide the figure by 20 to get Dirhams!! That is unusual it has to be said, carpet sellers have been known to try it on but certainly not shopkeepers and ordinary folk.

As the sun sinks lower in the sky our solitary existence here is broken by the arrival of 4 french motorhomes and an English van! The solitude was lovely but couldn't last. No matter, it's a big desert, plenty of room for all. Sharing what you have is part of life so I'll share this photo with you of Krysia on top of the desert world.

So we wish you all well and say goodnight as our bedtime here seems to be about 9 pm. Yawn.

Love Ted and Krysia

The Lake, Taouz and the Sandstorm.

11^th March

A cloudy day to start with and a sand storm to finish! Still you can't have perfect weather all the time can you? Drove the bike to town and had lunch at the OK coral! Its a bit like that Merzouga, tie your bike up at the ranch and have some grub. Watch the touts have a showdown with another tourist, who doesn't stop and the place goes all sleepy again.

We take off in search of a lake that can have water in it and flamingos but alas it's as dry as the sahara desert! Salt basins are abundant and cracked earth for miles. It's quite spooky really, we are surrounded by black hamada hills with no one in sight, mirages appear as the sun starts to shine and skeletons of small fish litter the ground. How do they get here? It's the middle of the desert? Amazing isn't it!

We leave the salt lake behind and head for Taouz, the last town on the tarmac road and only 20 kms before Algeria. The sand dunes become black dunes as the road cuts through small low mud dwellings and empty sahara. Mountains appear all around and we seem to be in a bowl of sand. Then the town appears and the road comes to an end. This is literally the end of the road! Toauz is small but has a college! And the one cafe is teeming with young friendly people, so we stop for a coffee and chat with the locals about what it's like to live here. They say it's good but it gets a bit warm in the summer! Down a piste we go to an old foreign legion fort and are met there by a friendly chap who shows us around and tells us that he lives in another old looking place close by and works in fossils. Can we have a look? If you want, he says. So he zooms off on his mobilette, losing us with ease and hides around a corner much to his amusement, before taking us to his humble home. Low, square block buildings greet us with a workshop outside. Its so understated. The stones lying on the floor to the uneducated are, stones lying on the floor! To him, they are potential business prospects when opened with his diamond saw. He shows us how he chooses a 'stone', cuts it open and gets either a hit or a miss, ie a good fossil or a bad one. This one was a miss, so he shows us the polishing process with a good Ammonite and we ask if we can buy them. They will mean more to us than anything from a Bazaar. At £3 for the pair, its not only a bargain but a gift. The whole experience is now condensed into these two little halves of a little creature, from a long time ago. Magic!

While we chat we notice that not only the wind has picked up but also there's is a lot of sand in the air! A sandstorm! 15 miles to drive to the van, ho hum, but at least we have a good tarmac road to follow. It's a demanding drive but the bike as usual, takes it in it's stride. The wind is strong but the road is straight. Back at the van we relax and reflect on another remarkable day in Morocco. Around every sunrise is another adventure! We are blessed with these adventures. Insha'Allah

Hope you are all well

love Ted and Krysia

A walk in the wilderness

10^th March

It's been a very windy night and the sand is thick in the air as we face our first full day in the Sahara. The three other campers leave us to ourselves, taking flight from the wind. It is demanding but we have a mission on to make the most of what we find, so we set off into the wind to find Merzouga. It's a town about 2 miles away, so we are told and we head off in the general direction following what we think is the edge of the dunes. It's a challenging stroll over dunes and hamada, passing camel herds and disappearing palm trees. The dunes are on the move and they don't stop for anything it appears. As we don't actually know the way to town, our journey is longer than anticipated. Hot and windswept we arrive to find a gathering of locals, many of them women, all dressed up, blocking the only tarmac road into town. Police and army are present but the 'manifestation' as it is called here is peaceful and typical of the Moroccan version of the troubles in Arabia of late. They just want reform not a war! More jobs and better pay, sounds familiar? Nobody pays any attention to us and we carry on past them into the main street of the this very frontier feeling town.

We eat a cracking brochette at a very local cafe and head back towards our campsite the 'direct' way. Through the town! The architecture reflects the environment here, low level mud dwellings which endure temperatures into the 50's (Deg C) during summer months. It was into the 40's last week but fortunately for us, its only in the mid 20's now!

Crossing the flat black hamada to reach our van, our minds boggle at what it must be like when it really gets hot. I don't think we want to find out! The wind has dropped and its quite warm enough for us.

It so beautiful at the campsite, in the grounds of a large auberge, the only campers on the edge of the dunes. £2.50 per night including electric! What could be finer?

Thinking of you all, believe it or not

Ted and Krysia

From the Palms to the Desert

9^th March

So the sad fairwells started at dawn! More gifts and hugs came to the van as M'hamed accepted the inevitable. We are on the move again. He's very sweet but quite as to why he sees us as his parents no 2 is a mystery! I think he likes his new mum a little more than ' the new dad ' ! We manage to pry him off mummy and head south to the awaiting desert.

The Ziz gorge soon becomes the flat plains of the south. Quite eery really, so barren and as yet no sign of the dunes. Flat red turns into the huge palmery around Arfoud, miles and miles of dates and agriculture, all fed by the Ziz river. As we approach Rissani, the desert turns black and even more intimidating. Mirages are on the horizon and naked dark women beckon me to drive straight towards them! These seductive nymphs are of course all part of a very vivid imagination, they are fully clothed of course! But I stick to the main road and can only imagine what it would be like to wander off into this wilderness. As far as the eye can see, flat, black hamada.

We arrive at Rassini needing to get a few supplies ( fat chance ) and are swiftly manoeuvred into the hands of an expert 'not' guide who definitely is not going to try and sell us anything in his friends shop! Like! What are they like these guys, We only wanted a cover for our small gas bottle ( so sweet ) and some veg but are magically transported somehow into a fossil shop and then a carpet shop! They are so persuasive. It really is an art they have mastered or are we just a pair of gullible old fools? I'll leave you answer that. We buy: 2 roses of the desert ( incredible formed rose like stone things ), a cover for our gas bottle, a moroccan tea pot and 4 plain glasses and only then do we materialize in the carpet shop! Talk about beautiful carpets, we've not seen a collection like this before! One after another is laid out on the floor until we are flying high but no, we will not part with any money today thank you! But wow they are lovely carpets? Do I want a carpet? I really don't know, its time to get to the dunes! And after a brochete and salad in town, we head into the black hamada and Lawrence awaits us.

Out of the haze, slowly at first, appears the incredible sight of the looming dunes, Erg Chebbi as they are called. We have campsite earmarked and drive the 2 kilometer piste to the foot of the dunes and our spot under a palm tree. We are in the Sahara desert and the dunes spread out into a vast orange sea. Camel trains disappear into the distance taking tourists for rides and we head off for our own adventure as the hazy sun dips towards the horizon. Even out here in the dunes, 2 friendly chaps appear out of nowhere and unpack their fossils and wares! Luckily, we have no money with us and no intention to buy anything! They sulk away into the sand the same way they came! And disappear.

Its been another long day in Morocco, fantastic.

Internet here is weak but possible, if I go outside and wander into the blackness, (never to be seen again)!

Hooray, I here you say!

So I'll do that right now an then go to bed!

Lots of love to you all

Ted and Krysia

No straight lines in Morocco

8th March

We are finding it difficult to move on from here, its so tranquil. M'hamed teaches us more and more Arabic and says we are like his parents! He's not going to like us leaving but we have to go sometime but..... not today, one more day here. Lets go tomorrow.

Hassan, the campsite owner is taking a french family to the local luxar, thats terraced housing Moroccan style. We decline because he only speaks french and we'd get a bit lost in chat, so we leave them go and follow on an hour later to explore ourselves. As we arrive at the enclosed mud built village, Hassan spots us and calls us in for tea with the family and of course we join them. There are no straight lines here in Morocco! Fatima is our host and she only speaks Berber and Arabic! Hassan speaks french as well, Krysia would like some English and I want to practice my Arabic!! An interesting melange. Its quickly evident that my Arabic causes amusement and interest. I don't think that many french 'have a go'! And Hassan enjoys my awful attempts. Now Fatima thinks its better to speak Berber, what's with all this french, she can't understand a word of it so she confidently chats away in Berber with Hassan translating into french and I into English for Krysia. Fatima spots this and is delighted that she's not the only one who doesn't parler le francais and strikes up a friendship with Krysia straight away. The french family now have to entertain speaking Berber, English and Arabic! And of course Krysia does parler francais un peu and all is a delightful comedy of errors. A madhatters tea party if ever there was one.

We are left in this strange collection of alleyways after being shown the way out. Only one exit here! We wander in near dark tunnels passed peoples front doors before being pleasantly accosted by local ladies who take us into their cooperative with squeals of delight and much giggling. They proceed to dress krysia up in all sorts of clothes, wedding seems to be on their minds not on hers, and photos are allowed by some and not others. Its a delightful experience and the traditional dress here has been something krysia has been wanting since we first saw it. So we bought a headscarf and wrap for a great price and everyone was happy. We didn't have any money with us but no problem, bring it later and take the clothes with you! You are staying at Hassans camping!

We easily find our way out and return to the van to pack for tomorrow. As I said before, There are no straight lines in Morocco and many chats with M'hamed who wants to help us in anyway he can leads me to not getting things ready and its time to go and pay for the clothes. 5pm now. After paying the ladies, we leave only to be invited into Ali's for tea! Ali just walked by us in the village and as we've decline invites already today we took up this complete strangers offer. He was ritualistic in his tea ceremony and also broke bread and dipped it into olive oil with us. Almost an expected gesture to make with foreigners we thought. He didn't want anything! We left and walked the mile home quite dazed.

M 'hamed has already made it quite clear that he's not happy about us leaving and visits us later with gifts and admissions of sorrow at our departure, he's such a sweetheart. We've been here a week and the campsite guardian doesn't want us to leave! What a funny place morocco is! What a lovely time we are having here.

Layla saida ( goodnight )

Ted and Krysia

PS Happy Birthday to Dave Carter

Meetings with remarkable women

6^th March

A hot and sunny day! So we take another walk into this splendid palmerie. There are separate villages joined by paths and palms and two bridges crossing the Ziz, one to the south and one to the north. So a round trip of about 3 hours is planned and south we go. The first village is a place time forgot, as old and original as it gets, crumbling mud built ksours are left in place as newer mud houses are built. The narrow streets are littered with children and old men. The sun beats down on us all and the atmosphere is set for the day. This could be in biblical times, no tourists, (well us of course) and local people with their mules carrying out the days labor around the Palmerie. We take it all in as best we can and let the village sink in to our senses and we smile. So good to be here.

Across the bridge we find more of the same, perhaps older with more crumbling ksours, castles made of sand, well mud and straw, so we sit a while, imagining the life that lived here when a real version on a donkey comes out of the green haze, all dressed in red with shining teeth and a child on her lap. She stops to say hello, touches our hands, and kisses hers after each gesture. Smiling, she caries on into the palms and leaves us melting into a meeting with history. She was real, we think and farther on into the palms we are blessed with another chance greeting from several smiling women which helps us keep it all in perspective. Genuinely lovely folk, going about their business, bumping into daft tourists loosing themselves in dreams and splendor.

The palmerie edge is abrupt and immediately outside its cool shade is parched dry hot gorge. Water, we need water! The hamada sucks all the moisture out of our skin and as we have plenty of water we drink ( and eat oranges!), Its just so dry, the plants that do grow look like they wait for centuries for some rain, which they must get far more often as this whole valley and its dry tributaries are formed by water. The main river Ziz carries its volume from the mountains but all the other hanging valleys must be formed by flash floods, suddenly turning these boulder strewn ovens into raging torrents. Awesome.

Through another village and across the northern bridge and we head for home and the cool shade of the campsite. Where we sit out the rest of the days heat until sunset, which we watch from the top of the gorge, biking along a rough piste to watch the emptiness succumb to the twilight.

Sleep well ( layla saida )

Ted and Krysia's Arabian nights

At the Ziz gorge

5^th March

The Ziz river cuts a gorge through the High Atlas mountains and then the flat arid hamada of south eastern Morocco. The land is red and dry and totally flat when you get to the plains. Vegetation is sparse until you come to the edge of the gorge, which is hidden from view through being sunk into the ground without any sign of its existence until you nigh on fall into it. Very dramatic, and what lies at the bottom of the gorge is green, palm trees. Red soil, cut deeply by the Ziz leaving a blood green valley!

Today we left the valley and rose out onto the ' surface ' to be reminded of the vastness of the area with its hidden valleys. Everywhere is red, they build in red, the town of Er Rachidia is red! And there is little to see for miles around except, well you get the picture. It's very evocative. The foreign legion, ali barber and his thieves, Lawrence of course. This is such an unusual landscape for us. Lovely people in town, all smiles and welcome, we get our supplies and head back to the sheltered valley. It's become windy 'on top' and mini dust storms swirl around us as we head the 20 miles back to the green, green grass, I mean palms boyo, of the campsite. Its very tranquil under the date palms, birds singing, bees humming, so we take a walk to stretch our legs and check out the locals!

No murderous thieves to be seen anywhere! Just friendly faces and many Labes's, bechhir's and as many arabic words as one can remember. We cross a bridge over the river Ziz and find more villages full of children, cheeky young beauties and friendly souls. A graveyard captures our attention, a large one, using slabs of local stone to mark the ends of each grave and a small pot of tiny river stones tops many a mound. There are too many small graves here for our liking! But god is great and he decides.

So we wander on past and take in the huge valley of date palms and satellite dishes! Only joking, its just so strange to see a mud built house with a dish on top. And hey, we all want Sky after all! Don't we??

We are now 3 weeks into our adventure here in Morocco and we've a feeling there are many more surprises to come. We hope you enjoy reading about them as much as we enjoy sharing them

love to all

Ted and Krysia

Krysia's Birthday

3rd of March 2011

Dear Krysia is 53 today and doesn't she look good! We heard via email and text from lots of people today, wishing her a happy birthday and we thank you all for your kind messages.

We woke to the clear blue sky and sunshine we hoped would be here in the Ziz gorge. From the plains above above, you wouldn't imagine the beauty and fertility that lies in this thickly palmed valley. From hamada to palmerie in a matter of minutes. Just like a mini Grand Canyon.

We set off on the bike to find a decent signal for our internet and stopped at a cafe at Aoufous. Here we set up our computer on the table and posted our blog before skyping krysias mum and then Jaimie, emails to read and send. What a sight, much to the amusement of all around but keeping in touch is part of the deal. Writing the blog has been a new way to communicate, which I enjoy doing and will endeavor to keep interesting. Its so interesting to be here!

M'hamed, who runs the campsite wants to speak as many languages as possible, as well as jokes!Another chap we met today runs a tourist service and he speaks seven languages! An enterprising young man if ever there was one. An old fella fixing a mud wall in the palmerie asked if I'd like to help him? Laughing heartily when I said of course . The traditionally dressed young beauties smile and say hello as we watch them wide eyed, in awe. Everyone is so welcoming. But of course there are always those who take advantage and charge a few dirhams too much, or hassle you for something or other. Their karma is their own, move on swiftly and find a good soul around the corner.

We walked into the palmerie as the sun dipped towards the horizon and lost ourselves in the myriad of tiny footpaths that connect this vast area. We find ourselves again! Without any problem and return to the van for a birthday supper prepared for us by locals and delivered to our van! It was gorgeous, a chicken targine for two, prepared by the owners wife, lovingly. Salad, home cooked bread, oranges and crushed dates to finish. We're even going to have a bottle of wine we brought with us, daring I hear you say but it's a rare treat and not one we indulge in very often these days.

All our love to you

Ted and Krysia

ps good luck to Jaimie who opens her first public exhibition tonight in Bristol. That's our girl, go for it.

From Azrou to the desert

2^nd March in a campsite in the Ziz gorge

Well, it was so cold last night that the water froze in the van and the gas wouldn't work in the morning! It's been like this for 2 days and even though its sunny in the daytime, its still too chilly. Yesterday we went to the local souk which was mesmerizing. Krysia bought a lovely woolen blanket from a Berber at a good price and haggled him to a fair deal. We went to a cyber ( internet ) in the bustling town of Azrou and Skype'd our Jaimie. We chatted for over an hour at the grand cost of 6 dirhams! 40p. They hooked up a set of headphones and a mic each so we could speak as a family and see each other on video. Modern technology eh!! I would have written a blog but the French style keyboards are just too confusing. Loads of letters and things are on different keys? It's hard enough on an English keyboard, why the french have to have it different?, well that's the french.

So after 5 lovely days in Azrou, we set off at 11.30 …...... south! Snow is forecast and we've done that already this winter in Wales. We drive up through the ceders, waving goodbye to troupes of apes ( so sweet ) and over the top of the middle atlas. We stop at a water spring high up and like other Moroccans passing, fill up our water bottles. Sweet, clean water, mmmmm. The scenery is intoxicating, vast high planes of stony desert back-dropped by snow capped peaks giving way to the distant High Atlas in the south. We descend into red desert plains around Midelt, leaving the lush memories of Azrou behind. These towns live at 3000 ft + and temperatures will plummet tonight so we drive on into the barren but awe inspiring High Atlas to complete our intention of finding some warmth!

The roads are good and progress is made. It's incredible what changes one can see in a few hours. As we arrive in the desert of the south, flat plains of stony hamada greet out eyes. As far as the eyes can see! We stop at a well known campsite only to find it packed. With camper vans, tourist shops!, tour groups, restaurant and more. Too much for us, we didn't come all this way for that, so we left and drove some more to arrive here at a campsite in a palmerie, 6 other vans, lovely receptionist with mint tea and chats, now thats more like it!

No internet access here so blogs will continue to be sporadic! Thank goodness I hear you all say. I don't want to become boring now do I? We'll drive 12 kms to the nearest internet and post this tomorrow. Which incidentally, is dear krysia birthday! So all sing won't you. Well at least raise a glass of cheer tomorrow night.

So lots of love to you all

Ted and Krysia

ps deserts in Morocco fall into two categories. The majority of them are stony, desolate places with little or no vegetation called Hamada. The other type aka sand dunes, are to be found in two places here. Erg Chebi at Merzouga and much smaller at Tinfou and M'hamid further west. When we get to the dunes we will be sure to let you know.