Mohamed wakes us as the sun prepares to make it's morning entrance, the chill of the previous night is quickly disappearing, even before the desert is lit. Last night's storm has passed and many of us prepare to climb the largest dune for sunrise. Pete, Cameron and Nicole are quickly halfway up before Kate and even I begin our ascent. The dune is much higher than it appears and although the desert floor quickly falls away behind us the peak seems to stay far out of reach, eventually though, Kate and I join the others on the high ridge as the sun peeks over the distant horizon. The first light sets the orange tinged sand on fire as the sun slowly rises. We watch another group of travellers far below break camp and start their march out of the desert. Too soon Mohamed is beckoning us back to camp where we too pack up and climb aboard our beasts of burden to begin our march out. Pete is much happier with his camel today and calls him "Brian". I really don't notice much difference between any of the creatures, they all march in single file, burp and pass gas. The difference I notice is the comfort level of the saddle, today's being much less than the previous days' and I continually shift in the seat but find no relief. As the sun rises and our shadows shorten, we continue on and soon discover last nights' rains have created a huge lake on the plain that we must traverse before arriving at our destination.
Gathering our belongings and repacking, we grab a quick breakfast at the desert kasbah before reuniting with Abdul and his once again immaculate van. We follow the white rock soldiers marking our path out of the desert and re-pass desert villages before stopping to tour a Minéral shop. All sizes and types of fossils are cut and polished here, becoming everything from small carved animals and eggs to counter and tabletops. These fossils are of small prehistoric water creatures and their likenesses can be be seen on and in all the merchandise. Soon we have our purchases stowed and are back on the road, diverting to the west and leaving the desert behind. Though the desert is disappearing behind us the terrain is still flat and arid ahead.
Abdul soon stops at a well, or better put a long line of wells. Walking a gauntlet of souvenir salesmen we make our way to the earthen structures. These wells follow an underground aquifer in an arrow straight line, disappearing in the distance in both directions. The wells themselves are from six foot to ten foot high mounds of hard packed dirt, looking like giant ant hills. These tall earthworks protect the precious water from rainwater washing in or dust blown into the deep wells. Peering into the deep holes puncturing the tall mounds reveals fresh water at the bottom. Most on the mounds have a primitive framework supporting a crank, rope and water bucket. After our quick stop we're back on the road, traveling the mostly deserted road. As we travel an oncoming truck driver waves us down and Abdul quickly pulls over and jumps out to talk to the man. Mohamed interprets the exchange, "The rains have caused flooding up ahead and trucks are having to divert to a different motorway, perhaps our smaller van will be okay". Not wanting to loose all the extra time backtracking before following the longer but more predictable road, Abdul decides to continue on the road we've been traveling. The landscape slowly begins rolling into hills, then mountains start to line the horizon.
We arrive at the edge of a village and are met by a roadblock of snarled traffic. Abdul's concern for flooding seems to now be a reality and he walks ahead to scout the situation, we first grab a quick snack, then we all follow. Walking perhaps a mile or more downhill through town we reach the cause for the line of parked cars, trucks and buses, a torrent of water has devoured the roadway. Many people stand on each bank and speculate their chances for safe passage, all asking for or offering advice. One by one brave, or simply impatient, drivers inch toward the currents, driving in the oncoming traffic lane and survey the scene, guess the water's depth and take their chances. With cheers the first brave driver dives in and starts the crossing, water pouring over the hood, the operator obviously fighting the current to keep from being washed off the roadway and downstream. Soon the engine is bogged down from the barrage of water and good Samaritans rush to help push the truck across. Sheepishly, more drivers start the trek across the river and even a pair of bicycle tourists start pulling their panniers from their bikes to start the journey, about halfway across they hit the strongest current and are almost washed away as a large group from the other bank rush in and assist with the bicyclists' harrowing traverse. Buses of tourists soon unload their luggage from the lower compartments and place their bags in the higher passenger area, leaving the luggage doors open for the water to free-flow through the chassis as they cross. Abdul is not yet comfortable with a river crossing with his van, so we wait and watch the show as more drivers gather the courage to make the wet traverse. After about an hour or so of watching the scene, Abdul feels the water has receded enough for the crossing and we begin our trek. Although the water is lower, it is reaching just below the vans' windows as we make the journey. Once on the other side we continue on without hesitation, leaving the town and remnants of the traffic jam behind.
The landscape becomes more rugged the further we travel and as the sun nears the horizon we arrive at the town of Tinghir. Mohamed's fears we may find more flooding as we near the Todra Gorge fortunately prove not to be the case. We grab some supplies in town and as we drive to nearby Todra we stop on a high prominence to watch the sun set over the Todra Gorge and Tinerhir. Now back in the van to finish today's travels, we drop into the gorge. Tall opposing cliff faces choke the road and river as we wind our way through the narrowing gorge. Soon we arrive at the Maison D'Hote Taborihte Kasba, our home for the next two days. This is the Inn where Mohamed used to work and his family lives just beyond. As we unload our luggage porters arrive and offer to carry our bags for a small fee but Kate and I opt to carry our small bags ourselves. We first descend a long stairway, then cross a swinging bridge spanning the river, then climb a long stairway on the opposite shore to a grand entrance.
As we enter the Taborite we find a swimming pool and many tables with chairs set around the large open patios and we watch the sun set over the gorge. Room keys are divvied up and everyone is given a menu to choose their dinner preference. Then everyone finds and explores their rooms and freshens up for dinner. Following dinner, we find beer in a fridge and enjoy a few after dinner drinks. Soon after dinner Mohamed is joined by his brother and several more of the hotel staff. Drums are passed out amongst the locals and, feeling brave, they pass drums to Pete, Ed, Peter and myself. After a too quick lesson in drumming and an even quicker lesson in Berber song, we're all butchering traditional Berber music and telling truly awful jokes. Several other guests join in and the locals tolerate our drumming and singing much longer than I anticipated. After several hours we are partied out for the night and slowly the room empties. before finally calling it a day and retiring for the night.
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