Chronicle by Laia Pujantell
It’s been a few days since our adventure ended, but I remember perfectly every moment, every smell, every sensation… The red sky of the desert under the sandstorm, the immensity and silence in the middle of the Iriki, the words of gratitude of the barefoot children running towards the cars, the colors in the tents, the smells of Marrakech… all. The thousand charms of a country and its people that have bewitched me, and that I have had the opportunity to meet together with magnificent people who now swell my list of friends…
Algeciras, Saturday, March 31, 2007… the nervousness was noticeable in the atmosphere…
It was then that we had the first contact with the rest of the comrades and while we were waiting to finish the customs procedures in Tangier, the names of José and Pili were repeatedly heard on the station. That was all we would copy those days because before we started our station burned down… despite being cut off and in an unknown country, we overcame our first 300 kilometres on Moroccan soil until we reached Meknes.
We rested well that night, although more than one preferred to try the taste of the local beer. Early in the morning we depart by road to Erfoud. We were able to contemplate beautiful landscapes and saw the Atlas covered in snow, rising majestically in the distance. We cross a cedar forest, where we stop to take some pictures at a monkey colony and cross the impressive gorge of the Ziz River. We also had time for a stop in Midelt, one of the urban centers with the greatest tradition in the collection and sale of fossils and minerals. Before arriving at the Kasbah Le Touareg, in Merzouga, we were surprised by a sandstorm. Despite the fact that most of the drivers had never driven in dunes, the little visibility that the red sky offered and the furious sand hitting everywhere, we left there without having to shovel too much. That night at the Kasbah we were delighted with traditional local music and dance, while we savored chicken tagine and for dessert, delicious Moroccan oranges.
The third day was spent in the largest sand sea in Morocco: Erg Chebbi, where our drivers received some good driving lessons from Ali. With the experience of the previous day and the tires well deflated, the cars did not get stuck, but almost all of them ended up stuck at some point and we had to shovel and push to be able to reach the hidden Oasis, where we had a soft drink. That afternoon we tried to climb the highest dune in Morocco. The Navara was the only car that managed to meet such a challenge, and without any help!
The fourth was a classic stage of the Paris Dakar rally. We traveled about 250 kilometers of forbidden track touching the border with Algeria, although some dared to cross it by chasing, shoe by shoe, a cloud of dust coming from cars that did not belong to the group! In the middle of that lunar landscape, where there was nothing but stones and sand, we were surprised, dozens of children who swayed towards the cars, asking us for some water or a ‘stylo’.
A flat tire made us stop for a few minutes, and we took the opportunity to toast with a bottle of cava in the shade of some acacias before reaching Zagora. Once in the village, some of our cars had to pass through the workshop of Mohamet el Gordito, and for us it was also a new hope to be able to enjoy the rest of the trip.
The next day the entourage left for Lake Iriki, declared a National Park. Some of us choose to stay and rest and take a walk through the Zagora market.
It was a day in which while some enjoyed the immensity and dryness of the Iriki, others were able to taste a mint tea among the hustle and bustle of the market, the shops, the people, the smells, the rush…
The group met again in the afternoon, we exchanged the experiences of the day and shared laughter over a beer on the terrace of the hotel.
Our sixth stage was hard, more than 300 kilometers of road until we reached Ouarzazate, but the impressive landscapes we saw made it very bearable. We had the opportunity to see and touch some of the wild reptiles that inhabit those mountains, we saw part of the largest palm groves in Morocco, some colleagues even made a cultural visit to the grounds of some film studios. We also visit Aït-Ben-Haddou, a mythical place and declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO.
Once we arrived in Ouarzazate, while some of them were enjoying a good hammam in the hotel, the tireless Pujan finally found the diodes that could lead us to have a radio station. Neither the diodes, nor the fuses nor the travel welder worked, the station was burned and it was useless to continue trying to make it work.
It is true that the life of the tourist is hard and we started the Route of the 1000 Kasbahs when the sun was still sleeping. Our cars paraded along the narrow stone roads, between ravines and villages camouflaged on the slopes of the mountains. Again, the children appeared everywhere and used all their ingenuity to get us to give them some gifts. Hours later we arrived in Marrakech.
We had the afternoon free, to rest, haggle to buy some products, walk around the Moroccan imperial capital… We survived in Djemaa el-Fna, where you can see everything from snake charmers to musicians, dancers, acrobats, jugglers, fortune tellers, henna tattoo artists, tooth-pullers… all under a cloud of smoke from the food stalls that offer a wide variety of Moorish pinchos. Without a doubt, one of the greatest shows in the world. It could not be otherwise, that night some of us were seduced by the charms of the Moroccan night…
We had to get to one of the northernmost cities in the country, so we hit the road early. For some it was a very pleasant surprise to be able to see the sea and step on the sand of the beach, and for others it was even more so to be able to enjoy a delicious meal based on fish and seafood.
Once we arrived in Tangier, the fatigue of so many days and nights of intense experiences in the Maghreb country, contributed to us not wanting to leave the hotel even though that was going to be our last night together…
During breakfast there was sadness in our eyes and we were already beginning to hesitate to say goodbye. It was while waiting for the corresponding procedures at the port, when we became aware that we would no longer see those people with whom we had shared 9 intense days, people so different and peculiar: the typical handsome, the typical beautiful, the funny, the edged, the nice, the quiet and the non-silent, the cheesy and the thug, The shredder, the Barbie, the beard, the ones who don’t let go of the camera, the ones who suck the camera, the one who pulls up their pants too much, the ones who drop them, the faithful to their principles, the capricious nouveau riche, the plasta, the gay, those who come from your hometown, those who travel with children, those who have never traveled before, those who repeat, the mechanic, the jinx, the green-eyed guide and 1’90m, fibrous, friendly and adorable…
In short, a person with whom I now have something very special in common: a trip, a dream come true.
