December 29—Arrival

Cross the high Atlas mountains towards Ouarzazate, then through the Draa Valley to Zagora. Spend the night in a hotel.

December 30—The Culture of the Desert

Travel around the borders of the desert and nearby kasbahs.

December 31—The Desert

Visit to the desert, with camels. A special night around the fire with local music.

January 1—Zagora

Return to Zagora at noon. Spend the night in the hotel.

January 2—End of the Adventure

Return to the starting point of the trip.

The price depends on the number of people. Minimum 3 people.

I’d only been in the Sahara desert for a few minutes before I felt a friendly nudge at my shoulder. Turning around I came face to nose with two camels. “Meet Peter and Blakhir,” said a man, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and who I would later come to know as one of our guides. “They want to be friends.” More to the point, these one-humped creatures had their bulging eyes fixed firmly on the leftover peeling from my orange – their favourite treat and one they seemed to be able to smell from miles away. Seconds later the orange peel had been happily gobbled up from my open palm and a few grunts offered in thanks, before they wandered off and I was left once again to admire the views.

My journey to the desert had actually begun a day earlier, when a gentle man named Mohammed picked me up in an aging Mercedes taxi (it had already clocked up nearly half a million miles) for the nine-hour drive from Marrakech. Along the way we stopped at the eleventh century kasbah of Ait Ben Haddou, where the locals told us proudly how their fort had been used in famous Hollywood blockbusters like Gladiator and invited us in to share a glass of mint tea. Back in the car, we watched barren fields turn into lofty mountains, struggled to stay upright as we manoeuvred around twisty roads that make Canada’s winding Cabot Trail look as straight as a Prairie highway. Out the window village after village zipped by, each one with its local specialty: freshly squeezed orange juice, colourful hand-woven rugs and semi-precious stones collected by local children.

The trek started the next morning from Zagora – a dusty one-road town that greets you with the sign “Timbuktu – 52 days by camel caravan”. Hosted by Brahim Elaabdouli, a history graduate and story teller extraordinaire, we started by rising early to drive down a remote road and through several army checkpoints. Security is tight so close to the Algerian border. Half an hour later the dunes of Erg Lihoudi appeared on the horizon, giving us our first glimpse of the Sahara. Not long afterwards the car dropped us off at a remote camp—the bivouac—and by lunchtime we were happily walking through the seemingly endless desert, accompanied by only a few guides and the two camels. But the desert wasn’t the place I’d imagined. Instead of starting with sleek and sandy dunes, the ones I’d admired on countless postcards, the Sahara started with a rocky plain. The only sign of life came from a few scraggly bushes underfoot.

Our goal was to reach a cluster of small sand dunes by dusk, about four hours walk away, where we would spend the night next to a well. As Brahim explained, the direction of our trek depended on where we could find water for the camels. They can go up to a week without drinking, but are happier and work harder if they can drink at least every two days. In this part of the world, locals tell stories about how green strips of irrigated land once extended miles into the desert. But one generation later the ground is now truly parched. It hasn’t rained here for at least six years and wells are further apart than ever before. “We hope it will rain this year, ensha’llah,” one elderly man said, looking towards the sky. Ensha’llah means “God willing” and it was a word I would hear at the end of nearly every sentence in Morocco.

With a persistent December sun shining down on our turban-covered heads the walk was a hot one, but also very relaxing. The only sound came from the camels as their wide, leathery feet plodded through the sand. They set the pace, so hurrying was out of the question. On distant makeshift roads, clouds of dust rose where air conditioned vans whisked groups of tourists off to luxury camps. But it was unlikely we would meet anyone on our trek. And maybe it was better that way. With water always in short supply, cleanliness was quickly thrown to the wind. We wouldn’t see a shower for at least five days and soon we were joking about who smelled worse – us or the camels.

We reached our camping spot just before dusk. Weary from the walk, I gladly accepted the offer of a seat under a nearby tamaris tree, while Brahim and the two other guides – Ahmed and Ali – set up the tents and tied together the camels’ feet so they wouldn’t wander too far during the night. Soon the fire was lit, the tea was made and we were all dining on a chicken tagine, a traditional Moroccan stew. Over the next few days, Brahim turned basic ingredients into tasty dishes with an ease that would have put a Michelin-starred chef to shame. A few eggs, some vegetables, flour and water became savoury omelettes, Berber pizza and pain à la sable, a crusty bread baked under a mound of sand and hot coals gathered from the fire.

Perhaps even better than the food – although it was a close contest – was the entertainment. Each evening, under a starry sky, we huddled around the fire to puzzle over brain teasers, play checkers in the sand using sticks and camel dung for pieces (in the desert you have to improvise) and bang out musical tunes on empty water bottles. Mornings were equally relaxing. We rose with the sun and ate our fill of sweet oranges and bread dipped in honey while the guides went in search of the camels. Even with their legs tied, they managed to walk for miles while we slept. Once back at the campsite, the camels had to be coaxed onto the ground with offers of orange peels (their favourites) so they could be loaded for the day ahead. Only then did we set off for another day of trekking through the sand.

After four days of walking we finally reached the most magical of camp sites – the big dunes of Ouad Naam. They towered over us, more than a hundred meters tall, and it only took a few moments before a wave of childlike excitement sent us scrambling to the top. Cool sand poured over our bare feet, tickling toes and soothing hard-earned blisters. But the real reward was reaching the highest crest just in time to watch a blazing red sun sink below the horizon. Below us, date palms spread out on the desert floor and we could see the camels already drifting away in search of food.

On the last morning we rose reluctantly, knowing we had to start the journey home. Perhaps the camels sensed we did not want to go because during the night they pulled the ultimate stalling tactic—getting lost. While Ahmed headed off to find them, we took our time over breakfast, sipped several cups of Brahim’s famous mint tea. We waited, watched the sun rise higher in the sky and waited some more until finally, near midday, we made the decision to head back to the bivouac. It was dusk before we found those naughty camels. They had spent the whole night wandering all the way back to the main camp, where we had begun our trek, with their legs tied together before Ahmed finally caught up with them. But somehow they still found the energy to scramble up for one last handful of orange peels and a friendly nudge goodbye, until the next time. Ensha’llah.

Friedel Rother (December, 2002)

Up early the following morning for the hour long journey south. The palmeries grew fewer and further between as we crossed from one valley to the next, and soon enough small sand dunes began appearing. As soon as we alighted in Ouled Driss Brahim set about readying the team, and left us with his brother, and an endless supply of mint tea. By the time we were on our third glass, Peter and Bakher the camels had arrived. 15 minutes and a lot of grunting and groaning later they were fully laden with all the kit and we were ready for the off. After another glass of tea. We were fast learning that in the desert, wherever you are, whatever the time of day, and whoever you are with, there is always time for some more tea. 

Although it was October, temperatures were up in the 80’s as our mini caravan strode out of town. The camels were lead by Said and Mohammed (Brahim’s brother), leaving Brahim to walk with Holly and me . I am not sure how the camel trains cope with the heat and the thousands of miles they traverse, but after an hour and a half, and probably about 4 miles, we were certainly ready to rest up under a large tree for a couple of hours, while Mohammed prepared a salad for our lunch. 

A couple of hours more walking in the afternoon and we had reached Erg Lihoudi, a series of dunes up to 50 foot high, which was to be our camp for the next two nights. As the guys set up the tents and the camels wandered off to do whatever it is camels do in their spare time, we sat around, simply taking in the quietness, the freshness and the vastness of the place. 

About 5 miles away across a stretch of hammada (stony desert) we could see another series of dunes, against which were pitched a long series of large, permanent tents. Occasionally a dozen or so Land Cruisers would show up and drop off another batch of package tourists for their one night in the desert, in a proper bed. After watching the spectacular sunset, while they were no doubt enjoying their evening of planned entertainment, we were feasting on a freshly prepared tagine and sand bread, and enjoying the company. Mohammed, incidentally, is surely the finest tagine chef in Morocco!! Ours was surely the much better way to enjoy the desert! 

The rest of the evening was just spent laying around chatting and watching for shooting stars. With no light pollution in the desert, it is incredible just how many more stars you can see than back in the UK. And with hardly any noise pollution, the only sounds to be heard were from what sounded like a full blown Touareg rave taking place at some far off well!! 

The next day we were treated (???) to a camel ride across the hammada to a nearby well. Whilst I am glad to have taken the opportunity to ride a camel, I am not sure I would rush back to one! Their surprisingly awkward gait doesn’t make them the most comfortable ride in the world – call me a city boy if you want, but I’ll take the car any day! The rest of the day was much the same as before – more chatting, laying around, sunset watching, star gazing and tagine eating. But that was definitely a good thing! It was brilliant. 

On the final morning, we got up with the sunrise, packed up (well, watched as the guys packed up for us!) and ambled back to town. At one point, Holly was even given charge of the camels. And she did very well. Until something upset them and they started bucking and rearing up, but they were soon brought back under control by Said and we carried on, no harm done! Our taxi was ready and waiting for us when we got back to Ouled Driss, and we were in Zagora in plenty of time for the afternoon bus Ouarzazate. After one final round of mint tea, that is!! 

All in all, I could not recommend this experience highly enough. Until you go to the Sahara, it is not possible to appreciate what an enchanting place it is. And when you have a dedicated team of 3 (and the 2 camels!) as knowledgeable, helpful, interesting and skilful as Brahim, Mohammed and Said; you cannot fail to have a good time. I just wish we had had more than 2 days, and cannot wait to return for a longer trip!!James Hathaway, 23 March 2004 

.

Day 1
Brahim our tour leader took us to a renovated Riad, which was to be our base in Marrakesh

Day 2
A magnificent drive over the high atlas where the tzi ntichka pass is at 4000 m. We visited the Glaoui ’s Kasbah at Talouet , with its beautiful mosaic, and Benhadou.
With amazing constructions of mud and straw, tea with a family in the Kasbah gave us some insight into life in southern Morocco. The night was spent in Pleasant Hotel in Ouarzazate.

Day 3
A beautiful if bumpy drive along the Draa Valley. Kasbahs galore, all waiting for ancient camel traders with salt and slaves! The night was spent in Zagora, a good base for shopping before heading for the Sahara .

Day 4
The day we had been waiting for! We arrived at the bivouac in the desert in the late afternoon and the two drivers left for civilisation! Although we slept in tents, and it was hot and sandy (surprise, surprise) we were throughly spoilt by Mohamed (Brahim’s brother), the cook, the camel driver, the nomad, oh and Ali . We walked to a sand dune to watch the sunset, where Mohamed demonstrated how to climb sand by running up, when we had performed a laboured one step forward and three slides back.

Day 5
Alovely day walk or camel ride for the lazy ones to Oulad Driss, a small Kasbah on the edge of the desert. Brahim talked about the museum and we had lunch and a long siesta among the exhibits. Evenings in the camp were wonderful. A meal of tagine or chicken with bread was produced by magic, followed by singing and accompanied by drumming. We even managed “she’ll be coming round the mountain “. The stars were as bright as we expected in a black velvet sky.

Day 6
A lovely walk into the desert and lunch at the bivouac .The wind rose during the afternoon and we slept in the large tent while sand filteredinto everything and everyone. Our last meal round the camp fire.

Day 7
A early start to break camp. The drivers returned with the four by fours and off we went. The tarmac road ended at a small town called M’hamid and then the most bouncy off road drive imaginable, followed by a dried up lake which is part of the DAKAR -PARIS rally route. Dried up yes, but the waves lapped on the sand until you were near enough to realise it a mirage. Lunch was in Foum Zguit and then we drove to Tata for the night .

Day 8
We followed the spectacular Tata valley to Tagmout. Camel drivers were moving a large herd along the dried river and we were also lucky enough to meet a Nomad family with a female camel which had given birth day before. Brahim arranged for us to visit them the next day. Lunch was fantastic, in a berber house, we walked round the village in the early evening, meeting people and investigating the irrigation system at the oasis .The night was spent in a sort of berber Butlins!

Day 9

We return to Tata. En route we have tea with nomad family in their tent with goats and two very beautiful children. Late in the day some members of the group visited the Hammam in Tata while the rest of us were by the pool! Shopping in the evening market and a sleep in a bed before finding our trusty tents again .

Day 10

Alovely drive into the Anti Atlas mountains where we were met at our camp site by Yahia and the men who helped with the camp. We were near to Brahaim and Mohamed ’s village, and looking forward to meeting poeple. The men had arranged a romantic boudoir on the side of the gully where we drank mint tea. After a siesta we went across to the tents, strolled around ate another delicious meal.

Day 11
Walked from the camp accompanied by donkey “in case”. After lunch and siesta, a change of plan. Brahim arranged for us to drive along the Issafen valley to the village where a bride was arriving for a traditional berber wedding. The people lined to road to wait for her and we were made to feel very welcome.

Day 12
Another day to remember. A walk from the camp site along the valley. Electricity and water had recently arrived and everyone was very proud. The valley is fertile and beautiful, dotted with small villages. We visited a 300 year old olive press and enjoed a delicious tagine on the roof of Brahim’s mother house. After a siesta the women were invited into the house .

Day 13
Last day, a wonderful drive to Marrakesh. After a long drive we arrived in Marrakesh where we bid farewell to Brahim’s brother who have been a tower of strength and good humour .We all said goodbye to Brahim who had been such good company.“An adventure never to be forgetten. Scorpions, lizards, wild flowers, camels, donkeys, discussion, amazing senery and warm friendly people.” 

The next day we set off for the desert. Once having crossed the huge, we reach the beginning of the beautiful scenery of the Draa Valley and Berber kasbahs. The night will be spent in a hotel in Zagora.

We start day 3 by meeting with the caravan at the kasbah of Bni ali (40km from Zagora ). We will cross the Draa Valley to reach a place called FOUM TAKAT, where we can have lunch in the shadow of the Tamaris tree. In the afternoon we will walk towards a dam where we can camp .

After a breakfast of coffee, tea, bread, honey, jam and fruit we leave towards Ktaoua Kasbah—an occasion to be close to and touch the real life in the Kasbahs. Lunch will be served in the middle of the oasis .Around three o’clock we will leave with the caravan towards the dunes of Bougawarn, a place whose name means magic. Here we will camp and settle for a while.

On day 5, after having breakfast, we walk again across the oasis, finally coming to the last Kasbah. Along side the oasis we will have our lunch. Then at three pm we will walk towards the dunes to be closer and closer with mountains, the oasis and different kinds of dunes .

Day 6 will start with a walk towards another kasbah called the Kasbh of Oulad driss. Here we will spend some time because it is ancient and worth seeing. As for lunch, we will have the opportunity to eat with one of the village inhabitants. In the afternoon , we will go by taxi towards Zagora , where we can spend the night at the hotel

The next day is spent getting back to the point of departure and on day 8 you will head to home, sweet home.

Day 2 starts very early in the morning in order to cross and discover the big desert. Lunch will be taken in the kasbah. Afterwards, we will move on to take the way that leads to the big dunes of the south of Zagora: Chigaga. Our camp will be set at the bottom of the dunes, nearby the nomads of course .

The next day we depart after having breakfast to cross the big desert and the dried lake bed of Iriki Lake to get to the village of Foum Zguit. After having our lunch we will keep going with our trip towards Tata, where we will spend the night in the hotel.

The last day sees us go to an ancient berber village in the anti atlas where Brahim Elaabdouli was born. Lunch will be taken at an inhabitant’s home. Later on , we will take the way that leads to Taroudant—so beautiful an old town that it is called the mother of Marrakesh.