Friday, April 12, 2013

"Horse With No Name"

On the first part of the journey
I was looking at all the life
There were plants and birds and rocks and things
There was sand and hills and rings
The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz
And the sky with no clouds
The heat was hot and the ground was dry
But the air was full of sound...


After two days in the desert sun
My skin began to turn red
After three days in the desert fun
I was looking at a river bed
And the story it told of a river that flowed
Made me sad to think it was dead...


     This week we reach all the way back to 1972 for our musical muse.  I was a very adorable 3 yr-old (I am going to assume) and the American folk-rock group named, um, America released our classic title.  In the interest of accuracy I should say that I am not in America at present but Morocco, and that I while I was in the desert, I was not on a horse but a camel, and his name was Tag #2825 (Yes, it was a "he" - I am nothing if not thorough).  I even have a picture!


                                         SO cute!  And the camel ain't none too shabby, either...

     Back to the beginning...school let out last Friday and I immediately bolted for the ironically named L'Oasis train station.  I purchased a 90 dirham 2nd-class ticket and hopped aboard the 5pm train to Marrakech.  Some info: a first class ticket guarantees you a seat, a second class ticket gets you aboard, but is no guarantee of a seat.  Yep, they overbook; it's part of the charm riding the rails here.  I'm too cheap to pay for first-class, so I take my chances; I've been lucky thus far this year.  Friday 5pm Casa to Marrackech?  I assumed my luck would end that day, and it did.  I stood in a narrow aisle near the rear for the first half of the 3-hour trip.

     My journey ended without further drama as I rolled into the train station at Marrakech at 8pm.  Someone from the tour company was supposed to meet me there.  I stayed inside the station; people there said that was where I should meet a tour person.  I wandered some while thinking I was in trouble, but after about a half-hour Omar found me, indicating he'd been outside.  Anyway, to the hotel we went.  The fun continued when I approached the desk and realized I didn't have my passport, which I have to have to take a room for the night.  Uh-oh.  For better or worse, I knew from experience this meant a trip to the big police station.  A taxi drops me off, and...it's the old station; I need to go to the new one.  Once there, I managed to turn on the charm (though not until after I had corrected the English vocabulary of one of the "suits" to the amusement of his colleague) and I get my authorization to bed down for the night.  I understand enough to figure out that the guy at the hotel desk was a jerk on the phone.  Apparently the police gave the guy a hard time; when I got back to the hotel I was checked into the rooftop terrace suite.  Nice!

     Early next morning I'm picked up along with others throughout the area and day 1 of our adventure begins!  I am the only American on a minibus with 5 Moroccan architecture students, plus an assortment of Australians, Austrians, Italians, Spainards and an Englishman, all of whom I believe are in their 20s.  Could be interesting.  All very nice people, and all spoke English well.  The people you meet...the 2 Aussie lasses had quit their jobs and were halfway through what should turn out to be an 8-month trek throughout the Middle East, Africa and Asia.  The Spanish guy worked for a time in a PA town at the same time I did.

     I get motion sickness the same way deserts have sand, and we were going to have to go through the High Atlas Monutains.  This trip was NOT going to be easy.  We, excruciatingly slowly, wound our way over the 14000-ft peaks.  Fun.  The first important place to see along the way was the kasbah at Ait Ben Haddou, a UNESCO World Heritage site.   Many movies have shot there, including The Last Temptation of Christ, The Mummy and Gladiator; Game of Thrones just wrapped 2 months ago.  Here are some photos from the site:


 
Oh, I'm sorry - wrong ones - here you go...



     We toured the area and learned a lot about the lenghty history of the Berber Jews.  Then we were off to the town of Ouarzazate for lunch, which had places where you could see movie props and the like.  Next was the Valley of Roses; here's a pic:



Oops - wrong again - the roses aren't in bloom til next month.  Here's a real pic:


     Anyway, we made it to a guest house at the base of the gorge.  It looked from the outside that it was going to be a real cheap place.  I was wrong.  It was real cute and cozy.  Funny, it resembled my image of a lodge at the top of the Austrian Alps, not at the base of a Moroccan gorge.  With what I had to work, good images weren't possible; however, some photographs (real, this time ;)




     We had tajine for dinner.  I was sitting at the head of a long table with the Moroccan students around me.  Everyone else filled out the other side of the table.  I would dare say we had more fun.  The others actually used utensils and didn't eat directly from the tajine pot.  We were mingled in with another group or two, and my bunkmate was a young Chinese guy from Germany who spoke better English than I did.  Poor guy - he had no idea of the snore-fest he was in for.  I was elbowed at a hostel in Florence, and I'm surprised I wasn't suffocated in my sleep over 3 nights in Rome.  But, everything turned out ok on this night.  Or at least my bunkie was too polite to say anything.

     In the a.m. we headed out for the town of Merzouga.  Along the way we saw a geological formation called "monkey fingers".


     We stopped to take a walk through an oasis.  I was only a little surprised our guide spoke English, French, Spanish and Berber.  The Italian and German was really impressive.  Everyone spoke English, but not perfectly, and most spoke some Spanish.  I was often able to serve as a go-between during the trip for people speaking Spanish and English and looking for just the right missing word.  It was fun. 
     It would've been rude to photo the women working, so no pics of them.  I'm amazed how some people make a life in this country under some really difficult circumstances.  Below, in the oasis...


On our way afterwards to lunch...


THIS is a place to enjoy lunch...



     Finally, we met up with our camels to make our way to the dunes at Erg Chebbi an hour and a half ride away...

                                          Here we come!  I think I heard one of them say:
                                                   "Who's carrying the Big American?"

                                                              From my perspective...

                                                       Lawrence of Arabia can kiss my...

     Considering I am a lousy photographer and I have a cheap camera and I was riding atop a camel up and down dunes, I would say the following photos ain't half bad...





     As the sun was going down and we reached our campsite, we climbed a dune that was about 100  meters high.  Well, I tried, anyway.  Got about 200 feet up, that was it for me.  That is the camp below...



     More tajine!  Dinner cooked in the desert was simple yet delicious.  I'm still wondering how this kitty cat made it's way out here into the tent...


     We sat outside in the crisp desert air, marveling at the sky above.  I saw numerous shooting stars and easily tracked a couple of satellites, that's how clear and brillant the sky was.  Beyond that, all I will say is: What happens in the Sahara, stays in the Sahara...

     Morning came too early, though I should be happy my tentmates apparently weren't tortured by any snoring on my part.  Next, some early morning photos:




     The camel ride was just the start of a v-e-r-y long day that also included a bus ride halfway through mountains halfway across the country, a 3-hour train ride, by far the most expensive taxi ride I've had here, finished by a 3 mile hike home to end my 20-hour day.  And I wouldn't trade it for anything.

After nine days I let the horse run free
'Cause the desert had turned to sea
There were plants and birds and rocks and things
there was sand and hills and rings
The ocean is a desert with it's life underground
And a perfect disguise above
Under the cities lies a heart made of ground
But the humans will give no love...

You see I've been through the desert on a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert you can remember your name
'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain
La, la ...