Tombouctou 52 jours

Morocco | Anno 2011

 

Tuesday, April 12 | Ouarzazate – Route des Kasbahs – Dadès Gorge – Tinghir

Wednesday, April 13 | Tinghir – Todgha Gorge – Erfoud

Thursday, April 14 | Erfoud – Rissani – Erg Chebbi

 

 

Tuesday, April 12 | Ouarzazate – Route des Kasbahs – Dadès Gorge – Tinghir

With over 200 km ahead of us, we leave Ouarzazate behind and continue our journey eastward through a desert-like steppe landscape. On our left, the snow-capped peaks of the High Atlas Mountains accompany us, while on our right, the jagged forms of the Anti-Atlas rise. But it’s the kasbahs we are eagerly looking forward to, as the N10 is renowned as the Route des Kasbahs.

 

Kasbah of Ait Ben Moro

To start with, the kasbah of Ait Ben Moro near Skoura. By now we know this name means that this kasbah was once inhabited by a friend of a son of a certain Moro. Over time, the kasbah was abandoned, left to decay until a wealthy Spaniard took it upon himself to restore the ruins. Today, it stands as a beautifully restored hotel that we can now admire.

 

High Atlas

A desert environment immediately brings camels to mind. However, in Morocco, there are no camels, only dromedaries. These riding and pack animals can survive for two weeks without water, even while covering 50 to 60 kilometres daily with a load of two hundred kilograms on their backs. Although caravans are a thing of the past, dromedaries are still actively bred in Morocco. Their meat is considered a delicacy in the south.

 

 

Due to the lack of rain, a large-scale afforestation attempt in this region has failed. Guide Aziz points out extensive stretches of land where long scars in the earth serve as a reminder of the disastrous outcome.

Although caravans are a thing of the past, dromedaries are still actively bred in Morocco

Dadès Valley

On the other hand, the rose cultivation is more successful, to the extent that a popular rose festival is held here every May. The rose bushes are not planted in large fields but in narrow strips around fields with other crops. From the roses, rosewater is extracted and exported to France and Canada. The small, highly fragrant rosa damascena is particularly well-suited for this purpose.

 

Dadès Valley

Where the Mgouna flows into the Dadès, you’ll find the sleepy Kalaat M'Gouna, the centre of this rose production. We obediently let the floral fragrances spritzed on our wrists before settling into the chairs of the local café, which doesn't serve beer.

It's four o'clock when we continue our exploration of the broad Dadès valley via the famous Route des Kasbahs. Occasionally, a mud-brick kasbah can be spotted in the villages, but these are no longer proud fortresses. Rather, they are emaciated symbols of past glory. As a building material, mud brick has become completely outdated; now it's all about concrete.

 

Dadès Valley

Economically, there's not much to be found in this region, according to Aziz. Many locals have emigrated – either to Europe or America, or to Rabat, Casablanca, or Agadir. Quite a few houses remain empty for most of the year. Only in the summer do you see the residents returning to their homeland for a short vacation. That holiday home later becomes their permanent residence for retirement. However, the children often don’t want to stay there; they remain in the north where they grew up.

Many locals have emigrated – either to Europe or America, or to Rabat, Casablanca, or Agadir

Moreover, new houses must comply with the architectural and colour regulations set by the municipality. The harmonious arrangement of public space that should result from this still eludes us for the time being.

 

Boumalne de Dadès

At an altitude of 1 650 meters, Boumalne de Dadès marks the point where the broad Dadès Valley transitions into the narrow Dadès Gorge. Here, fig trees, olive trees, poplars, and alfalfa are the favoured crops. Palm trees, however, do not bear fruit at elevations above 1 500 meters. With steep cliffs on one side and the babbling Dadès River on the other, driver Muhammad steers his bus into the gorge.

 

Against a rugged backdrop of eroded rocks, an impressive, still fairly intact kasbah towers high above the surroundings

Dadès Valley

Where the gorge opens into a fertile valley around the village of Tarost, Aziz grants us a short walk. Against a rugged backdrop of eroded rocks, an impressive, still fairly intact kasbah towers high above the surroundings. A solitary cloud playfully casts its insignificant shadow over the scene. Below, in the fertile valley, green plantings dominate – the trees along the edges and crops in the central part of the basin. The whimsically shaped eroded rocks crown the tableau with a beautiful palette of ochre, orange, pink, and brown.

 

About a kilometre long, the so-called Monkey Paw Mountains dominate the slope across the river

Some Berber women in the village wear headscarves, but there's no religious reason behind it, Aziz explains. It’s simply a matter of taste. During the day, for example, you might see a girl in the souk wearing a veil, while in the evening she could head to a nightclub in a miniskirt.

 

Monkey Paw Mountains

Meanwhile, the phenomenal landscape with its eroded rock formations continues to fascinate us. And then the biggest surprise is yet to come – the so-called Monkey Paw Mountains. About a kilometre long, these gigantic, interconnected monoliths dominate the slope across the river.

 

Monkey Paw Mountains

At six o'clock, we turn around and begin our journey back to Boumalne. From a height, we take a moment to enjoy the evening sun casting its reddish glow over the bustling little town.

 

Monkey Paw Mountains

The solitary cloud from earlier turns out to have been the precursor to a full-fledged cloud front swelling from the west. The locals welcome it, as in some areas it hasn't rained in six years.

 

Tinghir

The desert landscape becomes increasingly barren as the N10 takes us eastward. Oases where people manage to survive are rare. One of the larger oases is Tinghir, an ancient garrison town of the Foreign Legion. The city sits at an elevation of 1 346 meters and has a population of forty thousand. At the hotel, they welcome us with a lamb tajine. It seems we are the only guests.

Meanwhile, rain clouds have pulled an inky black screen over the city. No one looks surprised when it rains around 11 p.m.

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Wednesday, April 13 | Tinghir – Todgha Gorge – Erfoud

Beautiful and merciless, this is how we come to know the nature of southern Morocco. Today, we are set to experience yet another breathtaking piece of nature: the Todgha Gorge, located just north of Tinghir.

Fertile land is considered untouchable; no one would dare to think of building there

Todgha Valley – Ichmarine

But first, we want to learn how people manage to survive here. Palm oases play a key role in this. Just before nine, our driver Muhammad stops near the village of Ichmarine. In the gigantic basin at our feet, a green palm oasis spreads out.

That’s why, for centuries, the system of the three cultures has been employed

Todgha Valley – Ichmarine

Seemingly out of nowhere, a sprightly old man appears who calls himself Moulay – Monsieur. Together with him, we descend into the oasis and allow ourselves to be swallowed by a green sea of silence. Invisible birds dominate the atmosphere here. Amidst the palm trees, Moulay immediately clarifies some points. Don’t be misled by those palms, he emphasises; this is not a genuine palm grove. It’s a pure example of ancient technological ingenuity.

 

Optimally using the scarce water is what everything revolves around here

Optimally using the scarce water is what everything revolves around here. That’s why, for centuries, the system of the three cultures has been employed. At the highest level, where the least water is available, palm trees grow. Slightly lower, olive trees, fig trees and pomegranate trees have been planted. Even lower, alfalfa, beans, and other vegetables are cultivated. The distribution of the precious water from the Todgha is the responsibility of the water guardian – a full-time job with high esteem. The larger your plot of land, the more rights you have to water.

All plots are registered with the land registry and clearly demarcated with stones that are buried two meters deep in the ground. The idea of someone selling their precious plots is unthinkable. They only pass down to children through inheritance. In the past, this sometimes resulted in very small plots, but the government has since intervened to prevent that.

 

The idea of someone selling their precious plots is unthinkable

Only date palms grow here. According to Moulay, the date palm species is 100 million years old and originated from Saudi Arabia. It was only introduced to Morocco in the 11th century. This plant species is dioecious, meaning that there are both male and female specimens. The males are in the minority, as they do not bear dates and are only useful for pollination. This is facilitated by insects, but artificial insemination is also used. The flowers of one male date palm are enough to pollinate fifty female date palms.

So far, so good. However, for the past twenty years, bayoud has been haunting the region – the AIDS of date palms. Since then, 700 000 palms have succumbed. The fatal disease is caused by the fungus Fusarium oxysporum.

 

 

Along a maze of paths beneath leafy trees, Moulay leads us to the centre of the oasis, where we reach the first level in the open sun. Old men lazily cross the fields on donkeys. Squatting women cut the alfalfa with sickles. Some men are busy with a rake, preparing a new plot of land for planting. Around a rare muddy puddle, white cattle egrets stand still, observing the activity around them.

 

Moulay

 

Twenty-seven villages are established on the barren land surrounding the oasis. In one of them, Moulay has his home. The villages are almost entirely dependent on the oasis for their food supply. That fertile land is considered untouchable; no one would dare to think of building there, Moulay emphasises. Currently, a Belgian organisation is financing the installation of sewage systems in these villages. Additionally, a grain cooperative run by women is being sponsored by a Belgian organisation.

 

Kasbah of the Bachdiwi family

At ten o'clock, we begin our ascent along the steep wall of the oasis toward one of the villages. We wander through narrow alleyways between dilapidated earthen houses. Quite coincidentally, our journey leads us to the kasbah of the Bachdiwi family. You wouldn't notice anything from the outside, but once inside, it feels like entering a carpet shop. Out of sheer kindness, we're served tea while young men unfurl one Berber rug after another before our feet for our entertainment.

 

Particularly noteworthy is a large carpet of rectangular camel hair patches that combines three different techniques

Various styles pass by. Poppy red, saffron yellow, white, and black dominate the colour palette. Particularly noteworthy is a large carpet made of rectangular camel hair patches, on which various geometric patterns are embroidered, each bordered with strips of sheep wool knotted in high relief – three techniques mixed together.

Before we climb towards the Todgha Gorge, driver Muhammad grants us one last bird’s-eye view of the green oasis. It stretches for kilometres along the banks of the Todgha, surrounded by barren desert land, where pink and brown houses cling to each other right up to the edge of the basin. In the distance, table mountains are the dominant feature.

 

People and cars seem like Lilliputians in the monumental setting of the Todgha Gorge

Barely twenty minutes later, just past Zawiya Sidi Abdelali, a small monastery, the valley narrows into a narrow slit. Astounded, we walk into the gorge with our heads tilted back. The bare, pale brown rock walls rise up to 300 meters high, barely 10 meters apart. People and cars seem like Lilliputians in this monumental setting. Like an innocent brook, the Todgha babbles through the canyon, but after heavy rains, the water will sweep over the stones like a flood.

 

Northern end of the Todgha Gorge

We take another look at the other end of the gorge and then, shortly after half past two, we're back on our way. We return to Tinghir through the Todgha Valley and then continue our journey eastward via the familiar N10.

 

Northern end of the Todgha Gorge

At Tinejdad, Muhammad leaves the main road as it is. We head towards Erfoud via the R702, crossing desolate desert landscapes of stone and sand. Accustomed as we are, we can't help but notice that this stretch is bumpier than what we were used to.

For Aziz, this is the signal to continue his lecture and to elaborate on the funeral rituals. Exactly four months and ten days after her husband's death, the widow must wear white clothing, along with an article of her husband's clothing – sock, cap, scarf, it doesn't matter what. If, after this period, the woman is not pregnant, the division of the inheritance can begin. If she is pregnant, however, the birth of the child must be awaited first. It must be known whether the new offspring is a boy or a girl, as the gender determines how the inheritance should be divided.

For example, if a man has four sons and three daughters with three legal wives, each son receives two elevenths of seven eighths of the inheritance. It’s that simple

Islamic inheritance law is extremely complicated, according to Aziz – there are judges who specialise solely in this matter. One eighth of the inheritance always goes to the widow, and seven eighths go to the children. If the man is polygamous, all legal wives together receive one eighth. Furthermore, a son receives double the share of a daughter.

For example, if a man has four sons and three daughters with three legal wives, each wife gets one third of one eighth or one twenty-fourth. Each son receives two elevenths of seven eighths – so seven forty-fourths in total. Each daughter receives one eleventh of seven eighths – so seven eighty-eighths in total. It’s that simple.

 

Caravan in the Todgha Gorge

There must always be at least one male heir, even if the deceased had no sons. If necessary, the closest male relative in the male line – a brother or a cousin – will be included as a co-heir.

A solution to this complex system is not in sight. In fact, the problem is unsolvable, as inheritance law is inscribed in the Quran. What parents can do is transfer part of their assets to their children during their lifetime and arrange for a lifelong usufruct for themselves at the notary.

 

To Erfoud

Now that we are talking about death – a funeral is free of charge. After death, the body is cleaned, perfumed, and wrapped in a white cloth. A grave is dug, as long as the body, 50 cm wide and 70 cm deep. The body is then laid on its right side, with the head facing Mecca. A coffin is not used; the body is first covered with stones and then with earth, creating a small mound. At both ends, a large flat stone is placed – parallel for a man, perpendicular for a woman. However, the grave remains anonymous; there is no name mentioned.

In rural areas, the burial takes place on the day of death, while in the city it occurs after three days. After forty days, a memorial service is held, during which verses from the Quran are read and alms are given.

Cremation is not practiced in Morocco. For that, one must go abroad. Reusing a burial site is also unthinkable – eternal rest is taken very literally here.

 

Foggaras capture the scarce groundwater and lead it to the oasis further on

About thirty kilometres from Erfoud, just before the oasis of Fezna, we stop at one of the famous foggaras. These underground water channels capture the scarce groundwater and lead it to the oasis further on. This irrigation system was introduced in Morocco in the 12th century. They probably took inspiration from Iran, where some underground qanats are already more than three thousand years old.

 

Foggara

Vertical shafts at regular intervals make it possible to maintain the channels, ensuring the water flow is not obstructed. As far as the eye can see, there are small crater-like mounds, 2 to 3 meters high, surrounding the wells. There are around 15 000 of these, according to Aziz. They stretch through the sandy soil down to the hard rock beneath. We cautiously peer into one of the wells – it’s an impenetrable black abyss.

Today, the foggaras have seen better days. Maintaining these underground channels costs a fortune. In the past, slaves did this work, naturally without pay. Near Meknes and Marrakesh, foggaras are still in use because the groundwater there is replenished by snowmelt from the mountains. Elsewhere, the system is no longer viable.

No longer viable? Don’t underestimate the Moroccans. One of the young Bedouins selling trinkets to tourists seizes the moment to put on a show. He offers to personally demonstrate how the wells are connected underground for a small fee.

A couple of wells further, we see him disappear into a crater. Crawling on his knees and elbows, he squeezes through the dark, unmaintained tunnel. With a mix of disbelief and unease, we wait for him. He keeps the suspense high, but eventually, with some effort and relief, we catch a glimpse of his white turban deep in the dark hole. What follows is astonishing. With bare hands and feet, without any safety gear, he climbs the crumbling sandy walls of the well. Once at the top, he grins broadly and gratefully accepts his tip.

Just before five, we drive into Erfoud, once a garrison town of the French Foreign Legion, situated on the banks of the Ziz and at the foot of Mount Erfoud. With a population of 20 000, this town is the heart of Tafilalt, the largest continuous date palm oasis in Morocco. Dates are everywhere here – Erfoud proudly bears the title of capital of dates and hosts an annual date festival.

The concentration of fossil remains in these stones is astonishing

Erfoud – Fossil trilobites

But it’s not just dates stealing the spotlight – fossils are also making a significant contribution. A visit is a must, and for that, we head to the Macro Fossiles Kasbah. Fossils here are in abundance. These are far from being mere pebbles; some stones, extracted from a quarry about 30 km away, are as large as entire rooms. The concentration of fossil remains in these stones is astonishing. Hundreds of trilobites seem to have been jostling together on the slabs for 500 million years. Ammonites and orthoceras, dating back 350 million years, are also abundantly present.

 

Macro Fossiles Kasbah – Workshop

In the workshop, labourers are intensely busy – sawing, grinding, polishing, and finishing – each enveloped in their own cloud of dust. It's both surreal and disturbing to see how they hold their turbans over their mouths with their teeth, in a futile attempt to prevent the deadly stone dust from entering their lungs. The fruits of their labour are displayed in the showrooms, gleaming and meticulously crafted – from table tops and sinks to soap dishes and pendants.

By late afternoon, a strong desert wind kicks up, but later in the evening, it calms down again. Clouds begin to roll in from the west, even though the weather has been clear all day.

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Thursday, April 14 | Erfoud – Rissani – Erg Chebbi

This is one of the driest regions in the country, where sometimes years go by without a drop of rain. The desert is just around the corner. Caravans once played a crucial role in Tafilalt's prosperity. From cities like Rissani, located about 20 km south of Erfoud, they ventured into the vast desert. Even today, a sign reading Tombouctou 52 jours – Timbuktu 52 days – reminds visitors of one of the most magical desert destinations, indicating the 52 days it took caravans to make the journey.

Even today, a sign reading Tombouctou 52 jours reminds visitors of one of the most magical desert destinations

Rissani was known far and wide for its bustling markets, and it hosted one of the largest slave markets in the country. Even now, you can see a notable presence of people of African descent on the streets, descendants of those who were once traded in this grim part of history.

 

Rissani – City Gate

But trading wasn’t the only reason to end up in Rissani. Those who had something to answer for were often exiled to this remote area. In the 17th century, Prince Al Fida met that fate. However, it wasn't as tragic as it might seem, considering he spent his days in a rather pleasant palace, surrounded by servants and soldiers.

Even King Muhammad VI still visits Rissani from time to time. Not because he has anything to confess, but because a mausoleum here honours one of his distant ancestors – Moulay Ali Sharif, the founder of the ‘Alawi dynasty.

 

Rissani

In search of these wonders, we head further south, right into the heart of the palm groves. Water channels bring enough water to the area, sourced from as far as Errachidia, located a good 75 km to the north.

In a caravan city like Rissani, the city gate is no less than the gateway to the desert. Schoolgirls ride their bikes through the gate, chatting away, as we capture the scene and stroll towards the Centre d'Etudes Alaouites, the ‘Alawi’s Study Centre.

 

 

At a quarter past ten, we stop in front of the ksar Al-Fida. By now, we’ve learned that a ksar is essentially a walled neighbourhood where members of a single family live, often leading to issues of inbreeding. However, the government has put an end to this by mandating that each ksar must allow members from other families to live there as well.

 

Ksar Al-Fida – Main Gate

The houses of this ksar are still inhabited – children run off gleefully as soon as we appear. Imposing towers dominate the high walls. In the centre of the ksar lies the beautifully restored, but no longer inhabited, palace of Prince Al Fida. Black-and-white portraits of the moulay’s who once resided here solemnly observe us in the entrance hall.

The modest exterior walls give no hint of the wealth and luxury to be found inside

Ksar Al-Fida – Outer Wall

As is typical of a riad, the modest exterior walls give no hint of the wealth and luxury to be found inside. An open courtyard with a central fountain forms the heart of the building. In the past, water and greenery provided a refreshing atmosphere. On each of the four sides is a spacious room, one for each legal wife of the polygamous prince. In the corner, there is a shared hammam.

 

Ksar Al-Fida

Filigree work in wood

The walls are made of rammed earth, neatly coated with white lime. Above the entrances to the women's quarters, Aziz points out the traditional stucco work, a mixture of marble powder, plaster, and egg white. Once the wet mixture is applied to the wall, the motif is etched in and finished with plant-based colours – indigo, saffron, henna, alfalfa, mint, and so on. Nowadays, this is unaffordable – 800 to 900 euros per square meter, estimates Aziz.

 

Ksar Al-Fida – Courtyard

Traditionally, the cedar doors consist of large outer doors with a small inner door carved into them. In the heat of the day, only the small inner door is opened to let in as little warmth as possible. As evening falls, the large outer door swings open to let in the cool air.

If the master of the house arrives on foot or on horseback, he uses a door knocker with a different sound

Both doors have a knocker with a different sound. If the master of the house arrives on foot, he uses the knocker of the inner door; if he comes home on horseback, he signals with the large knocker that he wants to enter with his horse.

 

 

Nowadays, the small rooms serve a museum function. Silverware cannot be absent – silver is more valuable than gold for the Berbers. Beautiful silver fibulae were worn by girls to indicate their status. If a girl wore one fibula on her left breast, she was unmarried. If she wore one fibula on each side, connected by a chain, she was married.

Silver is more valuable than gold for the Berbers

Marble Hanukkah

Fibula

Wood carving

Elsewhere, we encounter Jewish artefacts, including a Hanukkah made of carved marble. Or items from the Tafilalt, such as sophisticated wooden locks or devices for churning milk or pressing olives.

Hamams still form part of Moroccan culture, Aziz explains as we head to the private bathhouse of the exiled prince. Every Moroccan is seen going to the public bathhouse once a week. The hottest place is in the central room, where the floor is heated from below. The surrounding rooms are a bit cooler, and the outermost rooms are the coolest. This way, you gradually evolve from cold to hot or vice versa.

 

On the ceiling, we can still recognise David stars. This is not unusual. In the past, the Star of David even adorned the Moroccan flag

On the ceiling, we can still recognise David stars. This is not unusual. In the past, the Star of David even adorned the Moroccan flag. But that is a thing of the past. The six-pointed star has been replaced by a five-pointed star. Each of the five points is now meant to represent one of the five pillars of Islam.

However, this does not change the fact that Morocco has had good relations with Israel, both in the past and now. Arab countries sometimes get worked up about this, but religion simply does not play a political role in Morocco, Aziz prophesies. Tolerance is the norm; you will search in vain for fundamentalism here. Aziz's direct boss is a Catholic woman, and his higher-up is a Jew. For Moroccans, this is not a problem – at least not for Moroccans in Morocco, he adds meaningfully. Because emigrated Moroccans cling tightly to what they perceive as their identity.

 

Tuareg Idriss

Bird quenches thirst

In front of the mausoleum of Moulay Ali Sharif, our local guide Idriss is waiting for us in his blue gandora. His father belonged to the Tuaregs, one of the nomadic Berber tribes in the Sahara. Once, Rissani was the first major commercial city in Morocco and even north of the Sahara, Idriss explains to us in the leafy patio. The nearby Sijilmassa also once gained fame as a trading city. Several caravan routes converged in the city, but today, nothing remains of that.

 

The tomb of Moulay Ali Sharif has since become a place of pilgrimage. Pilgrims come from near and far to pray here

The man buried here is not just anyone. This is clear from his name alone – Moulay means monsignor, and Sharif indicates that he is a direct descendant of the Prophet Muhammad. In the wake of the decline of the Saadians, he succeeded in uniting the Tafilalt under his rule. In 1666, his son Moulay Rachid did the same for all of Morocco. To this day, his descendants continue to reign over Morocco, even though they originally come from Saudi Arabia.

 

Mausoleum of Moulay Ali Sharif – Interior of the mosque

His tomb has since become a place of pilgrimage. Pilgrims come from near and far to pray here. They bring offerings, such as goats, sheep, jewellery, and candles. In the zawiya – the cloister section – they are offered free accommodation. The current dynasty also likes to make its presence felt here. Hassan II was even willing to finance the restoration work after a flood in 1955. However, neither the mosque nor the mausoleum is accessible to non-Muslims. We have to make do with a furtive glance into the mosque.

The establishment of a cooperative has put an end to the traders' position of power

In the kasbah

Necklaces

Then we turn our steps toward the kasbah across the square. Twenty families still find shelter there, even though the housing is somewhat primitive – an understatement for which Idriss might win the prize for understatement of the year. The kasbah has been restored with local funds, he tries to add, and electricity and drinking water are available.

 

Tajines

The alleyways between the houses are partially covered from the sun. It seems like a pale imitation of Libya's Ghadames. Children hide away in dark corners. Each home is built around a patio, with rooms on the ground floor and the first floor. In summer, families mostly stay in the cool spaces below, while in winter, they gather upstairs.

 

Glassware

Originally, those families were engaged in agriculture, but about twenty years ago, they turned to jewellery making. They watched with dismay as traders came to buy their products at low prices and made a fortune selling them in the big cities.

 

Berber daggers

Necklaces

With the establishment of a cooperative, that has come to an end. From now on, fair prices are applied, and the income flows back to the families. By coincidence, we find ourselves able to help with this, as before we know it, we are in the showroom.

 

Rissani was once the first major commercial city north of the Sahara

All pieces are unique, we are told, and each piece has a separate symbolism. Various artifacts pass by – fibulae, daggers, crosses, jewellery, a compass. Nomads carry straight daggers, while Berbers prefer curved ones, we learn, but we would rather not have any daggers.

 

Rissani – Souk

Even at noon, the sprawling souk of Rissani is buzzing with activity – Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday are market days. Even nomads sometimes show up in the city. Blacksmiths, butchers, and fruit and vegetable sellers are busy. The live animal markets always offer a spectacle. Goats, cows, and donkeys are carefully handled, inspected, and examined before any deal is made.

 

Goats, cows, and donkeys are carefully handled, inspected, and examined before any deal is made

 

Further on, dozens of donkeys stand parked, patiently waiting for their owners – no parking disc required.

 

Further on, dozens of donkeys stand parked, patiently waiting for their owners – no parking disc required

So to speak, just a stone's throw away, the immense Sahara begins. With its nine million square kilometres, this desert is precisely five times the size of France, Germany, Spain, and Italy combined. Yet, it is a relatively recent phenomenon, as twenty thousand years ago, there was no desert here at all. Rock carvings deep in the desert still bear witness to a past when large mammals roamed a savannah landscape. Tiny fluctuations in the way the Earth orbits the sun caused the monsoon rains from the Arabian Sea to no longer reach this area, resulting in the vast desert we see today.

Aziz wants to give us a taste of that boundless desert, perhaps with the added treat of a beautiful sunset over the dunes. At four o'clock, drivers Mubarak, Ismail, Omar, and Abdullah stand ready with their Toyota Landcruisers. Our destination is the dunes of Erg Chebbi, about 50 km southeast of Erfoud.

Abdullah, who used to work in the quarry where fossil-laden stones are unearthed, explains that he found that work unhealthy. After our surreal experience last night, we readily agree with his conclusion. Now he's a 4x4 driver for an agency, as he has three daughters and two sons to support.

Twenty thousand years ago, large mammals roamed a savanna landscape in what’s now the Sahara

There seems to be some debate about the best way to reach the vast desert. While the other three drivers head straight, Abdullah takes a right turn. Are you interested in gold? he asks. No, we want to see the desert. How about medicine? He asks. No, we want to see the desert. Our firm stance surprises him. He assures us that you can make very interesting deals here, but we hold our ground. No gold. No medicine. Just desert. End of story.

 

To Erg Chebbi

 

With a deep sigh, Abdullah accepts our decision. But now, the other drivers are nowhere to be found. Abdullah has lost their trail. Then, his phone rings. A one-sided conversation ensues, from which we understand nothing, though the least you can say is that the person on the other end of the line is somewhat agitated and not open to much debate.

Sulking, Abdullah parks his jeep by the side of the road in the stony desert and waits. Then, finally, we spot the other jeeps in the distance, driving through the mountains. Kicking up a broad cloud of dust, Abdullah takes off in pursuit.

Abdullah’s stubborn vehicle struggles, with him making several determined attempts to get it going

It turns out we're approaching a fossil site, as fossils are plentiful in this area. Immediately, we transform into fossil hunters – finding a small trilobite or ammonite sounds like something we’d enjoy. But we're not the first ones to have thought of that. Aside from a few vague fossil traces in stones that are far too large, we find little to nothing.

Soon enough, we’re on the move again. Three jeeps start up with no issue, but Abdullah’s stubborn vehicle struggles, with him making several determined attempts to get it going. No worries, he assures us, with some patience it always works. And eventually, it does.

As far as the eye can see, the road ahead seems paved. But after about twelve kilometres, that comes to an end. The jeeps now race side by side across the barren stony desert.

 

Camel hair nomad tent

A Bedouin family's camel-hair tent appears along our path. Our convoy comes to a halt. We are invited to take a look around their modest clay-brick shelter, used for protection during severe sandstorms, as well as their primitive kitchen with straw-bale walls, where their small bread oven is housed. Ismail deems it the perfect time to unroll his prayer mat, while Abdullah wisely chooses not to switch off his engine – you never know.

 

Tuaregs and their riding animals

Gradually, the graceful shapes of pale pink dunes rise above the grey gravel desert in the distance. From a windy hill, we are treated to a panoramic view. At the foot of the dunes, a few hotels and some nomad tents await the romantic traveller looking to spend a night in the desert. Blue-robed men gather around their dromedaries, eyeing potential customers with anticipation.

 

Erg Chebbi

At six o'clock, we set out in search of that magnificent sunset over the fascinating desert landscape. We advance steadily, sometimes between the dunes, sometimes right over them, and at times along the narrow, steep dune ridges. The soft desert sand is not exactly cooperative. With every step, you sink more than halfway back down. The wind blows fine sand up the dune slopes – into our faces, our lungs, and our cameras.

 

Even without a spectacular sunset, this landscape remains truly impressive

After about three-quarters of an hour, we reach the highest dune. Admittedly, there are even higher dunes further on, but we immediately classify them as unreachable. Pockmarked pits and disturbed sand mark the paths we pulled ourselves up. The wind won’t take long to erase the meagre traces of our presence.

However, dense clouds have gathered in the west and seem unwilling to budge. In just over an hour, the sun will disappear behind the horizon unnoticed. But even without a spectacular sunset, this landscape remains truly impressive.

 

The wind won’t take long to erase the meagre traces of our presence

Just before seven, we begin our descent. You might think going down a dune would be easy, but it's far from it. It's dune after dune in an endless series. The westerly wind seems determined to blow us back into the dunes. Moreover, one dune looks exactly like another. But then Ibrahim appears and proves himself an experienced guide, leading us down in just half an hour. It comes as no surprise that he has some fossils for sale.

In the twilight, the four Landcruisers begin the return journey. The turbulent clouds of a small sandstorm stand out sharply against the pale southern horizon. Our headlights are swallowed by the dust clouds, and the red taillights of the other jeeps are barely visible. At times, the dust is so thick we can't see anything.

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Jaak Palmans
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