8th March- The Environment

Morocco is desperately trying to modernise. Large numbers of building projects are in progress everywhere. However, nothing seems to be happening on most of the sites: they’ve got so far and then stopped. In a few cases the developments appear to be unfinished (pic below) but are actually completed because they don’t always render walls, put in roads and clear up construction rubbish (or other rubbish), but if you’re desperate for somewhere to live that’s not so important.

Rubbish appears to be a matter of indifference to Moroccans, and it’s dumped fairly indiscriminately, but you have to look at it from their viewpoint. As an example, two weeks ago an eco-warrior at the campsite organised a beach clean-up. In a couple of hours the team of over 50 transformed the beach and each of us had filled several black bags of mainly plastic junk. The locals looked on in amazement while the eco-army swept along the strand: if Allah had decreed that the tide should wash copious quantities of rubbish onto the beach, who were they to argue? Maybe the locals were right, because two weeks later the beach was just as full of grot as before the big clean. Allah: 1, Eco-army: nil.

Taroudannt Tanneries.

The tanneries comprise sets of open-air vats where leather is tanned by soaking in cattle urine and pigeon droppings. The smell is such that no one had the slightest doubt that these are the true ingredients. Some years ago we had a line of “made in Morocco” Clarks men’s boots, with each foot enclosed in a plastic bag. Opening the bags revealed the reason- that same horrendous smell!!

The skins are dyed using chemical dyes and washed through afterwards in more vats by men in waders. We can imagine in past times, before waders were supplied, an industrial condition called “tannery washers pickled leg syndrome”.

Many different skins are processed. The photo is of a heap of camel skins. You could buy a whole camel skin rug, hump and all, if you didn’t mind repeatedly tripping over the hump. Gives a whole new dimension to the meaning of the word “humping”! Col settled for a camel leather belt instead, a snip at 50 dirhams(£4).

Tue 3rd March: Taroudannt

It’s a two hour drive inland to the walled town of Taroudannt. The walls, dating from the 16th century, run for 5 kilometres and completely encircle the town. They certainly look ancient, as the photos show, but it’s the wonderful old brush that’s had three new heads and two new handles: they keep patching them up. The original building material was pisé, a mixture of mud and gravel and that starts to erode quite quickly with winter rains but we noticed that current rebuilding works appear to (sensibly) include concrete in the mix.

We toured the town by calèche, a horse(nag!)-drawn carriage. This was interesting but not riveting, apart from the tanneries that merit a separate section (next).

Tuesday Feb 24th : Observations

The site has a surprisingly large Italian community. They are hearty campers and hail each other from great distances- “Hey, Alberto, buonjourno!” etc. A gathering of 6 or more Italians is also guaranteed, sooner or later, to burst into song (sooner, if fuelled by quantities of alcohol), let by a self-appointed Pavarotti, who will lead the assembly in murdering a selection of popular operatic arias.

Saturday saw the obligatory local dancing, laid on by the site. There were several different troupes. The photo shows men in white who danced with trembling shoulders to the accompaniment of drums and small flutes. Of course, it all looked strange and exotic as intended, but probably less bizarre than morris dancing appears to foreign visitors to the UK.

Small “put-put” motorbikes are used by locals of all ages, carrying up to 4 people, but rarely wearing crash helmets. The guy we were keeping pace with in the photo had his dangling from the handlebars, observed a police check down the road, so quickly put it on. After riding past the policemen, he whipped the helmet off and restored it to its’ rightful place on the handlebars.

Feb 17th- The Camels are Coming!

Here camels are kept like cattle. The only difference is that, because the food supply is so sparse, they move around under the charge of a camel herder. This morning a herd of about 50 appeared on the hillside overlooking the campsite to graze the scrub, and we decided to walk up for a closer look. The camel herder came across and shook hands, all very friendly, and as one does here, we gave him a small tip to take some shots of his camels.

The road repairers are building a retaining wall between the road and the campsite. Whilst on the job, they stay in these make-shift tents at the side of the road. It’s the practical solution to accommodation while moving around in a low wage economy: as an example, workers on the campsite get around £8 per week.

Feb15th: Paradise Valley

Paradise Valley is a full day trip from the campsite. The narrow road follows a beautiful palm tree-lined river gorge and then climbs way up to a mountain town near which there is a stunning waterfall. Today is Sunday, which is “family day” in Morocco, although the holy day is Friday. So the whole of our trip was shared with thousands of Moroccans from Agadir who picnicked all along the valley and at the waterfall, some also washing their clothes in the river. Picnics generally consisted of a barbecue or tajine, both of which are cooked over charcoal

In these parts the locals appear to live subsistence lives using donkeys and hand-tools for cultivation. Small children frequent the roadsides attempting to sell bunches of herbs. But, wait a minute, even the meanest dwelling has a satellite dish, a real Flintstone-esque touch when surrounded by all this primitive lifestyle of yesteryear.

On the way back is the village of Arouir where a number of shops sell the locally grown bananas. And that’s all they sell – bananas. How can they survive selling just bananas at 64p a kilo? In the footwear trade that’s the equivalent of a shoe-lace shop!

7th Feb to 13th Feb: The Immediate Area

Nice beach. Usually more waves, and popular with surfers.

Lots of scrubland, good for birdwatching. Jane’s standing by an argan tree where the argan oil comes from