Our last full day in Morocco begins early as we check out of the hotel and load into our hired van with Khalid acting as our leader. Although the trip from Marrakech to the Cascades d'Ouzoud appears to be short on a map, the narrow winding road doesn't afford a short drive. The trip actually takes a few hours not counting comfort stops. Kate and I know the last train out of Merrakech leaves at three o'clock this afternoon and this longer thn expected trip is giving us concern about our return to Casablanca. The morning drive out of Marrakech is quiet and gives many of my companions a chance to grab a little more sleep while Kate and I watch the terrain grow more rugged. We're once again entering the High Atlas mountains and the painfully slow drive is tempered by the beautiful scenery outside the window.
Eventually we arrive at the tiny village of Tanaghmeilt which appears t be mainly improvised tents and stalls catering to the stream of tourists. We pass the many merchants down the steep trail to the falls. Today is not busy and we find few other visitors as we arrive at the falls. Our vantage point is about midway down the falls on a small ledge overlooking one of three of the falls' drops. The sides of the gorge seem scoured with mud and we later learn the heavy rains we met in the desert hit this area hard, washing out much of the upstream settlements and trails and scouring this gorge. Well below our tiny vantage point we can see the bottom of the falls and the forest lining the deep gorge, a narrow and steep trail leads down to the bottom but Kate and I are concerned for the time and choose not to venture down the long trail. Choosing to join most of the rest of the group we follow the trail to the top of the falls and find a scene of muddy devastation on the rim of the gorge. Structures, trails, trees and vegetation have been washed away by the flood. We return to the village and visit a small tent housing a creperie with a young woman cooking crepes and stop for a bite. Following our quick lunch we return to the van for the agonizingly long ride back to Merrakech with Khalid and our driver assuring Kate and me we will make our train. As we approach the hotel at 2:30 to drop off our companions, we say our goodbyes all too briefly as the clock ticks down to our departure.
We arrive at the station and purchase our tickets, the language barrier proving to not be too much of an obstacle. As the gruff agent hands us our tickets and tells us what I think is our platform we start our mad dash to the waiting train and arrive with minutes to spare. We quickly board the Marrekech Express on our way back to Casablanca and are happy to discover adjoining seats. We settle in for the three hour trip to Casa Voyagers Station, at least what we thought would be a three hour trip. As we rode the train through the beautiful arid landscape we pass through several storms as we stop at small villages along the way. Soon it's getting dark, we're four hours in on our three hour trip and concern starts to feel genuine as we are still in the desolate terrain. I try asking some of our non-English speaking traveling companions if this is the train to Casa and am reluctantly assured by one traveler that this is the train to Casablanca, at least I think that's what he says. The time is passing but the scenery is seemingly the same and slowly I start to dread what we may be in for if this is the wrong train. As it nears eight o'clock we are arriving in a city and the helpful traveler gives me an assuring nod that we are near our station.
Within the hour we arrive at Casa Voyagers Station and quickly hire a petite-taxi to carry us back to the Hotel Guynemere, where we stayed at the beginning of our trip. We are recognized by the staff who welcome us back and I arrange tomorrow's transport to the airport. Kate and I quickly drop our bags in our room and head out for dinner. We at first look for a nice restaurant but after being hit on by would-be culinary guides trying to get a few coins from us for them showing us a restaurant, we shake them and visit a small diner. The proprietor welcomes us and we order dommer flat bread sandwiches with fries and drinks, not fancy but delicious and filling. We negotiate our way back to the hotel and relax in bed, enjoying just lying down for a long time before falling falling into a restful sleep.
The next morning we pack, grab a quick bite at the hotel before catching our ride to the airport. As we snail through Casablanca's morning rush hour, we learn that our driver and navigator love Morocco but dislike Casablanca as much as we do. We arrive at the airport and are surprised to find we get dropped off outside the airport's gates so our driver can avoid paying the entrance fee. Dashing across parking lots we arrive at our terminal and find the first of five security checkpoints we endure. Our luggage passes through an X-ray screener, our passports cheched and we are searched a first time. We grab a quick bite and drink of water before the announcement of the next security check. Surprised, we find the same two screeners asking for our passports and again searching our luggage, then the same screeners begin the third screening process, checking our passports and luggage. The most comical part of this repetition is that each time we pass, the same screener remarks how much better my passport picture with my mustached face looks and tells me I should grow it back, yes, he has a mustache. We ask a fellow passenger if this is usual security and they reply with an exasperated 'yes'. We soon are on the tarmac and load onto buses to make a three or four mile journey a quarter mile across the taxiway. We board the plane to New York where we have an agonizing eight hour layover before returning to Norfolk at midnight. Fortunately I have the next day off but Kate isn't as lucky and has to return to work the following morning.
Aside from the disappointing visits to Casablanca, Morocco proved to be a beautiful and varied country. Everyday would reveal totally diverse scenery and most everywhere we went the people were very proud and friendly. The country has high illiteracy, poverty and unemployment rates which contribute to the pervasive panhandling virtually everywhere in the country. We also found cats seam to occupy every corner of this country, both in the cities and in the small villages but I believe I only saw three dogs the entire visit. Our leader Mohamed and our many guides made the trip special along with the many people we met who were very eager to share a small part of their country and heritage with us.
I look forward to returning at some point in the future.
Ma'assalama
مع السلامة
Peace be with you
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