June 19, 1998 Erfoud, Morocco - {Hotel Tafilalet} R100GS 31224 R80G/S 42211 We left Azrou driving South through Cedar and pine forests. The cool shade and pleasant scent was a nice change. We crossed high plateaus dotted with black flat Berber canvas tents and sheep or goats. A few of these plateaus were surrounded in mountain landscapes festooned with rocks and little shrub. People built homes out of the rocks, stacking them to build walls. Some would build fences, however I couldn't tell for what purpose these rock fences were since they seemed too low, and rarely complete to contain any animals. Several fields we passed were covered in lavender flowers, poppies and tiny neon yellow flowers similar to the wild flowers we saw in Spain. We passed several desert canyons with mud walled homes, and mud towers from long abandoned casbahs that appeared to be melting from all the weathering. The more recently built up towns we passed were mud stucco but generally in good shape. The walls were often adorned with a small four step triangle or pyramid. We were driving through a rocky dry hilly area, and we passed a 2 liter bottle full of Coca cola. 50 meters further, 2 more bottles, full, just sitting on the side of the road waiting for a parched traveller to pick up. Finally we came across a kid who collected the money for these refreshments sitting in the shade. It's the Moroccan version of a Lemonade stand in the desert. The road followed a small river called the Ziz, On occasion this river has water. As a result, palm trees and some other vegetation grew, but outside of this was either dry rocky landscape or in some places sand dunes. We passed through the scenic and dry Ziz gorge and the little towns along the way nestled in the palm groves at the bottom. In El Rachidia we had lunch. The North end of town is composed of several walled in section with red sentry towers, on corners and around gates. Obviously this hasn't been used for ages. Much of the city has grown outside of the walled areas. El Rachidia is home for a University, and is one of the many bases for the Royal Army frontier with the Sahara. After El Rachidia, The altitude dropped and the temperature climbed. It was about 40 degrees Celsius (105F) by the time we reached Erfoud. As we pulled in to Erfoud, hot, tired, sweaty and parched. We saw a nice hotel and pulled in. I said I'd go check it out while Sharon consulted our ten year old guide book. It was a four star hotel with a nice classic Moroccan entrance way. Without looking at any other hotels in town, we checked in. Our room has a three dimensional sculpted ceiling all hand painted in the detail mosaic Moroccan style. Our room has a good size sitting room with two couches and table, and window looking out onto the swimming pool. The bedroom has two queen size beds, one set in an alcove. But the important things are a nice air conditioner, and a refrigerator. Unfortunately I had to dispose of some local fauna that Sharon called Heebee geebees. Note: Erfoud is sometimes spelled Arfoud. The correct spelling for this city is in Arabic script which I can't type in. Like with many other languages that don't use a Latin character set, spelling in the alphabet can only be considered phonetic. Whether they are using a French, Spanish, English, or some other set of phonetic rules for the choice of characters, I don't know, but would guess French phonetic rules. Unfortunately road signs to Erfoud or Arfoud exist in both spellings. In the past when we can't remember the name, we remember we are going to the 'A' town or the 'E' town. This obviously doesn't work since it's the phonetic string that must be remembered rather than the spelling. For other English speakers, I would phoneticly spell it as Errfood. June 20, 1998 Erfoud, Morocco - {Hotel Tafilalet} Last night, on the TV I saw that they said a heat wave should be passing through Morocco tomorrow. This morning, I said to Sharon, "How'd you like to go for a ride in the Sahara desert today?" She rolled her I eyes, presuming me to be acting goofy since that's why we were here. While driving in the Sahara wasn't much of a thrill for her, I was looking forward to it. When planning for this long trip, I had used as an extreme, crossing the Sahara desert as an example condition to plan contingencies for. In hindsight, I don't think I would bother planning for such an extravagant contingincy. But anyway, I had thought a lot about driving through North Africa. and today was my first chance to compare imagination with reality. While we aren't planning to cross until this winter, I saw this as chance to see what we're in for. As it is, I'm not sure how to go. Algiers is off limits because of all the random killings going on, tourists and locals alike. Moroccan Berbers don't even consider venturing East, and as the Algerian we met in Ecuador told us, Algerians are fleeing. For years, the Algerian-Niger route was the most popular way of crossing North Africa. With Algeria out of the picture, two of the possible four piste routes across North Africa are closed. The other two being the Mauritania route which we are now closest to, and the Egyptian-Sudan-Ethiopia route. The Egyptian route has a problem in that the Egyptian Southern border is closed to Sudan due to all of the fighting in Sudan. The Mauritania route would take us through all of the little Western Africa countries, which sounds to me more of an endurance and tolerance test than a interesting cultural experience. At the moment, we plan to take the Egyptian route hopping on a boat in Southern Egypt to take us down the Red Sea to @Eratria where we continue on down to South Africa. Lately @Eratria and Ethiopia are in the news, so who knows how long this route will be open. While I've been told from Central Africa on down, it's possible to take asphalt roads the whole way, Crossing North Africa, the roads are often called pistes, a French word meaning track or trail. Today, we planned to drive from Erfoud to a Berber town in the desert called Merzouga approximately 60km away.... easy trip. We took the side panniers off the R80G/S and the top box reducing the bike to minimum weight. We filled up with water. I recorded the coordinates for Erfoud in the GPS, and set it to record our route to Merzouga. Merzouga is a Berber town of 850 inhabitants in the desert who's only income comes from tourism and military. The first 15km or so out of Erfoud was a small asphalt road, and then the piste began. Piste is a good name for it, since I would say it's a track or trail. Gravel road or dirt road isn't quite accurate since the word "road" implies that someone built it. No gravel is laid, Nor is there really any dirt. The only bit of work done on the piste is to lay markers identifying the general path. Tracks lead every which way usually converging at a rough spot such as a soft sand patch. Sometimes we encountered rough cobblestone laid in a road fashion over a particularly large soft sand spot. This piste had bad sections of washboard, which I find the most unpleasant terrain to drive on. Occasionally we encountered soft patches of sand. Sometimes the piste would branch out in many directions not leaving a clear direction of which way to go. Usually all these branches ran parallel, and the only reason for their existence is because the piste was in bad shape. We came upon a white Land Rover in the desert, the kind that did the $45 per person round trip tours to Merzouga. I pulled up along side. The hood was up, doors were open, 6 legs stuck out from under the front, and three people inside sat looking hot, frustrated, unsociable and tired. Their unsociable state was my first clue that they didn't need our help. >From underneath, the three people popped out. One long curly haired European with a pierced eyebrow, and a dollop of grease on his cheek stood up, looked at the bikes, saw the Illinois plates and said with surprise and a Germanic accent, "Oh, You're from America... that's a long way.". I asked him "How's it going?" Agitated, he said "The fan belt broke, and these guys (locals) don't know what they are doing, don't know how to fix it, don't have any spare parts, and only have a screw driver for a tool." I could see a few wrenches lying on the ground, and so could tell he was frustrated. After he said this, he seemed anxious to get back to his work, and so we said goodbye. Fortunately, they were on a well traversed piste and only about 15 miles from Erfoud. In Merzouga, or what we thought was Merzouga but was actually a little hamlet just before, we stopped. We were told this was Merzouga by an inhabitant, and so didn't realize we hadn't made it there until the next day. As we drove up to false Merzouga, we stopped to take a picture. A kid rode up to us on his bicycle. He said "Bonjour" and asked where we were from. When I told him, he pulled out a tapped up worn piece of paper that showed the upcoming world cup soccer matches, and said that America is going to be playing Iran tomorrow. He asked where we where headed, and then offered to show us a place where we could park our motorcycle while we walked around the village. He led us to a a Berber run hotel, of which there were many. The entire village is built up of brown mud stucco homes with a backdrop of a palm grove oasis and a large orange sand dune they call Erg Chebbi. We sat down to talk with Mohammed, the 24 year old who ran the place. He offered us a rooms which he charges 50D for, and told us they had hot showers. I could care less about hot showers, and asked him if they had cold showers. He brought out some mint tea, which all Berbers jokingly refer to as Berber whiskey. We talked for a while. He had been working this place for the past 10 years. He explained that this is a Berber village supported by tourism and the military. He comes from a family of 10, of which he says is common for Berber families to have 10-20 kids. He says, that usually they don't think ahead of time about all the work it takes to raise that large of a family, and how there aren't enough jobs to support that many children. His English was pretty good, of which we asked about. He spoke Berber, Arabic, French, and some of Spanish, English, German, Japanese, Tawanga, and Bedouin. He had taught himself, with the help of travellers to read many of the above languages including Japanese. He hadn't been to school, but seemed motivated enough to teach himself what he wanted to learn. He taught us to say: In Twarang: Leebee Teebee Too - cheers (when drinking mint tea) In Berber: Lownuts - cheers ('ow' as in owch or cow, ) Sahaa - hello (roll the 'h') Sahaid - thanks (roll the 'h') Baysaiha - Bon Apetite Around his neck, he wore a sort of cross with two circles at the top. I asked him what this was, and he said it was the Southern Cross of which Berber's use to guide themselves at night in the desert. Later I saw this same design as a sticker on the windshield of a truck... I asked about Tawangan traders who I had heard come from Niger and other places across the Sahara to here to trade goods brought by their camels. He said that that is rarely the case. I asked how much a camel goes for since some one person had jokingly offered to swap a camel for my "mechanical camel". He said that a 5-6 year old camel goes for about 9,000 dirhams ($900) and is probably the best as a pack animal for crossing the desert. However I could likely buy a 35 year old camel for about 3,000 dirhams, but the only thing that would be good for is for tourists to take pictures of. We walked around the hamlet and over to the palm groves. This small Berber town of mud stucco homes, out in the Sahara desert nearly an hour from the next town has TV antennas, and 1 meter satellite dishes. These latest satellite technology dishes seem just as common, maybe more so, than back in the US. Religion of which there is plenty here, may be the opium of the masses. In the late 20th century, it seems TV is the adictive amphetamine, especially since it seems everyone is watching and getting riled over the world cup soccer game... We drove back occasionally consulting the GPS when the piste branched off. We spotted several camels, or Dromedaries as the locals call them. Four were being hustled off the piste carrying a load as their master followed on moped. The stuck land rover we had encountered coming in two hours earlier was no longer there. Obviously they had gotten it going again. Sea creature fossils are common in this area. Excellent prehistoric fossils can be bought at any souvenir shop. Huge (2-12 inch) perfectly preserved trilobites are found in plenty, and sold cheaply. Habibi a fossil and mineral dealer, showed me a printout he got off the web from the trilobite web page. Giant snails and long (2-12 inches) tube snail like mollusks are also common. They are found surrounded in a black mineral petrified into like a quartz. They are so common that people use this heavily laden fossil rock like one would marble in making counter tops, fountains, clocks, etc. Stone bowls and dinner plates are sold with crystallized fossils of mollusks embedded in them. Geologists would likely enjoy this area as well. All sorts of interesting minerals are sold, the likes I've only seen in museums before. Every souvenir shops sells rock collections. We purchased some fossilized sea creature plates from Habibi, who also does mail order sending trilobites, and various minerals around the world: Habibi Abdelaziz 48 Av. My Ismail Erfoud, Morocco Tel: 212.557.6689 Fax: 212.557.7467 Again tonight, before settling for the evening, I hunted more of the local fauna in our 4 star hotel room. There were a few flies, and also what we use to call cuckarachas in Latin America, That doesn't do justice to the size of this African variety. I think they like our air condition room. Sharon was a bit agitated at the time when she declared them as the biggest f***** cockroaches she's ever seen. At the hotel restaurant Gazel, we ate calia, an Erfoud specialty, for dinner. It was excellent. Calia is cooked tomatoes, caramelized onions, and lamb in a spicy cilantro, coriander, black pepper sauce. delicious. June 21, 1998 Erfoud, Morocco - {Hotel Tafilalet} We had planned to take off early this morning and get all of our driving in before the hot afternoon. As I was putting back on the top box which I had taken off for our rough ride on the desert piste, I noticed that the rear sub-frame had broken on the right side. Many people had suggested that the R80G/S rear sub-frame should be reinforced. This was one thing I didn't get to before leaving. It was split through on the right side, and cracking on the left. On a cross member that holds the latch for the seat there were two other cracks. This likely explains why the right pannier support was ripping out the aluminum. There was enough rust in the cracks to suggest that this didn't just happen in the crash two days ago, but may likely have happened during the rough roads of Tierra del Fuego. This sucks... I'm in the Sahara desert in the summer, and I have to weld the rear sub-frame of my motorcycle. After breakfast, I disassembled the back end of the bike, and removed the rear sub-frame under a reed roof where the motorcycle was parked. I wanted to get this done before the hot afternoon of the day while the temperature was still in the low 100's. Fortunately, there was a welding shop near by. I told them what I wanted, and they rewelded the cracks and splits in the frame making it stronger than before. After they were done, I asked how much and they replied 15D (US$1.50). I love welders in these third world countries. They save the trip, do a great job, and charge next to nothing for their effort. I gave them 20D. The top box needs welding, and the right pannier support is ripping. However since they are both aluminum, I figure I'll have to wait until I get to Spain. I haven't seen a TIG welder nor expect to in anything but the largest cities in the third world countries we've been to. Almost all the welders have stick welders, a few have oxy-acetylene. Later in the day, I went back looking to get the mirror stem rewelded since it had broken during the crash. The weld shop was closed, however some kid took me to a mechanic with the sorriest looking stick welder I've ever seen. The mechanic didn't have welding eye protection, nor a vise to hold the stem before he welded it, and so welded it back together with a 5-10 degree bend. Seeing that this was a much smaller job, not to mention lousy job compared to the rear sub-frame, I offered him 5 dirhams. He refused, and said the cost was 15D. He argued that 5 wouldn't pay for the electricity. I told him about my experience with the rear sub-frame at the welding shop 1 block away, He babbled some stuff in Arabic, and walked off. A local guy who spoke English and overheard everything told me this mechanic was an Israeli. While I highly doubt an Isreali would set up a auto mechanic shop in the Sahara desert in Morocco, I considered it an interesting insult. We drove South of Erfoud to where the road bends to the East. This is the Southern most road in Eastern Morocco beyond which lies the Sahara desert before entering Algeria. The road continues for several hundred kilometers. This same road around Erfoud is fine, but after Rassine, it turns into a narrow one lane rough paved road. I would imagine not too many foreigners venture past Rassine. The kids went nuts waving to us as we passed. Everybody stops and looks. Note: Like in Latin America, where every guy's name is Jose or Jesus, Here it's either Husein or Mohammed. There was a film crew here last week filming a movie called "The Mummy". Several people have asked us if we are with the film crew. Humidity seems very low. My eyes, nose and lips are in a continuous state of dryness. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Notes for future desert crossings... This is something we hope to do this winter. The following are scribblings of things that came to mind while on the piste. most are obvious.. wear riding pants, jacket helmet and gloves - The piste can be rocky with patches of unexpected camouflaged loose sand. A spill onto these rocks would really hurt. full face helmet, or half with goggles... must keep windy sand out of eyes. We encountered occasional sand gusts, and saw several dirt (sand?) devils. a lot of water... I know that when the temperature is in the low 100's I can consume 5 liters a day. This doesn't include any for cooking. gas... not cheap, and who knows what the quality and availability will be. we didn't have problems though. mylar "space age" blanket. While I've never used one of these, I think it might be good for portable shade. I'm not sure how they stand up in wind. I haven't heard any testimonials. Should consider taking tape to repair the mylar, and a method of securing this possibly to the bike as a makeshift tent. Direct sun is really fierce... I'm sure it wouldn't take much more than three minutes for a soft boiled egg with just this sun. Sun protection Sunglasses. best if it also keeps sand out of the eyes. sun tan lotion. brimmed hat for when not riding. consider a cheap backup GPS. The piste seem to go every which way, it's sometimes not clear if it converges, or if it forks. trail marks may be missing, or along one of the many parallel trails out of sight. Assuming one can get the coordinate of the destination, a GPS and a map could be the best and only navigation tool. However, I'd want to have a backup. map distance counter, and protractor for approximating coordinates. This is assuming the Michelin African maps are accurate, and the same world datum model is supported by the GPS. Erg Chebbi dune was accurately portrayed and easily used as a reference on the Moroccan Michelin map. compass know how to identify the Southern cross as the Berbers use for navigating at night. Polaris is off the end of the big dipper. Or just take a glow in the dark compass. unload the bike... and only take necessities. less weight->better handling. Spare parts spare ignition system, inner tubes, repair kit. glue, duct tape etc. getting trapped with a dead bike, or having to walk the dunes would be bad news. Riding one to a motorcycle is far better than two up. Riding one up, the driver can stand on the pegs and almost double the time on the piste. Riding two on one motorcycle adds weight, and slows down progress. The washboards can be a killer if going too slow. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- June 22,1998 Tinerhir,Morocco - {Hotel Bougafer} R80G/S 42522 R100GS 31441 We passed villages which seemed perfectly camouflaged in the hills. The walls, roofs, streets, etc were made out of the surrounding red dirt and rock. The buildings look like they are a stucco made from mud and gravel, or mud and straw, smoothed over with another coating of mud. The still inhabited homes have a nice smooth finish while the long abandoned homes seem to have melted or partially collapsed from the weather. It seems the modern method for these Berber towns is to build walls using either large stones or mud bricks. Either mortar or mud is used to fill the crevices, and then this is coated with a mud straw mixture. The roofs often have gutters extending several feet away from the wall presumably so that run off water won't erode the wall below. Besides the people, there are basically four colors, blue sky, red land and towns, green palm mangroves, and yellow wheat. In several villages we passed, people were busy crushing wheat. There was a circular flat terrace with a pole in the center. Four donkeys were tide side by side tethered to the pole. One villager would keep the donkeys moving, continuously walking in a circle. While the other villager kept the wheat in the path of the donkeys. After crushed, several with wood pitch forks would toss the wheat straight into the air presumably so the flax byproduct would float away with the wind separating from the wheat germ which would fall to the ground. Some larger towns would have a tractor supplying power for a machine which would do this mechanically. The whole process seems very communal since it looks like many villagers all bring their wheat to one spot and work together to keep the machine fed. When I forgot to put my visor down as we drove by these towns, I often would get wheat flax dust in my eyes. We arrived in Tinerhir again hot, tired and parched. While Sharon hung out under a shady tree, I looked for a place to stay. I checked out four hotels, and chose one based on value, and current discomfort. We ended up at the nicest four star hotel in town at 420D ($42) per night called Hotel Bougafer which is also where the tourist busses end up. After consuming two and half liters of water and a bag of cookies, our only food of the day, we jumped into the swimming pool. I would have sworn the pool was air conditioned, as it seemed so cold. After 20 minutes in there, we felt very comfortable in the ~100 heat. We drove up to the Tedra gorge only a few kilometers away. We stopped in a few places to take pictures. The locals have the kodak spots mapped out and already know where the tourists are going to stop. As soon as we stop to take a picture of the valley below, hawkers come out of the shade to sell us something, give us a present expecting payment for their present, etc. I try to be amiable and patient, tolerant of the intrusion, since I consider myself the invader of their home. Today neither Sharon or I felt like we had the energy to deal with this onslaught, so we turned around at the gorge river crossing and headed back planning to come back in the morning. The conversation is usually the same with little variation: M: - Mohammed/Hussein/Ali, D: Dave M: Bonjour (hello) D: Bonjour/Salam (hello) M: Cava? (How's it going?) D: Lahbas (cava... it goes) M: Frances? (are you French?) D: No/lah M: Allemagne/Deutsche? English? (Are you German or English?) D: No, American. M: Oh? American.... First time in Morocco? D: oui/nam (yes) M: welcome/you are welcome.... M: I invite you to have some tea. I have a small shop, and I can show you some Berber and Moroccan rugs. D: Shookran/Merci/Thank you, I have to do *something* now, how about later.... The Moroccan tourist brochure, and our lame Frommer's guide book says that it's not a good idea to refuse an invitation to tea. However, this invitation is used as a time suck lure by salesmen. Rather than finding out what kind of unpleasantness may occur from directly declining an invitation, I've been ambiguously accepting and delaying indefinitely. This seems to work fine. June 23, 1998 Ait Oudinar, Morocco - {Auberge Chez Youssef} R80G/S 42703 R100GS 31582 We went back to see the Tedra gorge, this time parking our motorcycles at the river crossing, and continuing up stream for about a kilometer. One American woman we met, had likened it to Petra of Jordan. While the steep rock sides might have some resemblance. The hotel in the canyon has absolutely no resemblance to the church face carved into the wall of Petra. I don't know what she was talking about. We left Tinerhir... As we drive down the road, the landscape is typically of rocky sand with scattered short scrubby bushes. Often we pass flat Berber tents with herds of goats. By my Casio digital watch, I can read 102-110 degree heat. Since the temperature sensor is close to my cooler sweaty skin, I tend to believe the higher number. Driving at 50-60mph, makes the heat tolerable. If we stop for more than 30 seconds, I have to take off my black leather jacket, black over pants, gloves, and helmet. Standing along side the road, or sometimes walking through the planes, I see Berbers dressed with dark robes and turban standing or walking in the fierce direct sun. It's not apparent where they get their water. I don't know how they live here or why... Last night, I was dreaming of Frank Herbert's "Dune", in particular about the people on the desert planet of Arakis and their special sweat collection suites which preserve water and prolong survival in the desert. I woke up thirsty and drank a glass of water. As we were driving across this desert valley, I looked up and noticed the Sun directly above. The unusual thing was that it was surrounded by a rainbow. I'm use to seeing rainbow bend downward towards the horizon, however this one encircled the sun for 180 degrees directly above my head. We drove by a heard of twenty to thirty camels. grazing on the tiny scrub in the rocky desert along the side of the road. We left the main road at Boumaine Dades to follow the Dades river through the Dades gorge passing by many casbahs or small Arabic castles. As we did so, the sky became overcast, the temperature cooled off and occasionally we would get a little sprinkle with most of the rain clouds appearing a few miles North. We stopped in one of many little towns along the way. Just past Ait-Ali is a town called Ait Oudinar. We checked into a nice little hotel called Chez Youssef, on the edge of town that has several nice terrace for hanging out over looking the Dades river. We're at 1600 meters (5280 feet), and the temperature has cooled off significantly. We had lunch here, and just hung out the rest of the day enjoying the cool breezy weather. Berber omelet. diced tomato and onions with cumin and cilantro (probably other spices(thyme, white pepper?) Moroccan melange) on the bottom of a ceramic tajine platter. Heat the platter until the onions begin to caramelize. pour beaten eggs on top, add fresh peas, and cover so that egg cooks. delicious... the spices were they key. Spicy lamb kebabs, and fresh fruit for desert green cantaloupe and oranges. Sitting at a table out doors on the terrace next to the river, under a birch tree, I worked on my journal while Sharon began reading a book we had on-line called "The Insidious Dr. Fumanchu". She had just finished reading another on-line book called "Two years in the Forbidden city". We walked up the road through the village. The locals would smile and say Bonjour, Cava? to which I would return a Salam, Lahbas... Everyone we passed were very friendly. It's nice to be out of the touristy areas where we've developed an anxiety to talking to anyone since it usually ends up as a strong invitation to visit their shop and look at Moroccan rugs. This village gets it's electricity from a diesel power generator up the hill which is turned on from 7:00pm until 11;00pm. June 24, 1998 Ait Oudinar, Morocco - {Auberge Chez Youssef} We left the windows wide open, and slept very well. There was a constant breeze which kept the cool air flowing. Almost no traffic outside, and the fact that there is no electricity after 11pm makes this a very quiet town. All I could hear was the Dades river flowing outside, and then the birds chirping in the morning, and the flies buzzing. For some reason flies love this place. It's impossible to keep the window open and not get flies in the room. Sunrise is at 5:15am, and so to sleep in, one either has to be immune to tiny feet climbing over one's face and into one's facial orifices, or sleep under the sheets. I got an early start this morning. If one introduced venus fly traps, I think they would take over the landscape. Despite the flies, the surroundings were so peaceful and pleasant to hang out, that rather than drive on to Marakesh, we decided to stay another day. We drove up through the canyon. It's a very narrow steep gorge. At it's deepest, I measured 400 feet by my altimeter, and guess it's between 50 and 100 feet wide. The rock face has interesting textures, and the canyon floor along the banks of the Dades river is full of attractive purple flowering bushes. ---- Dave Thompson thompson@pdnt.com www - http://sdg.ncsa.uiuc.edu/~mag/Thompson Net-Tamer V 1.09 Palm Top - Registered