Morocco - Todra Gorge

15-16th April 2015

Leaving Merzouga we travelled to Rissani for some cash needed to pay for the riad. We were often having issues with the 'cash is king' philosophy in Morocco. While extracting cash for our riad payment our host's helper suggested that he get his guide to show us through the Rissani market.

'No, definitely not' I thought. Why would I possibly need to be 'guided' through a market. Only to be persuaded to buy things of disinterest at 'guide' inflated prices. Even with all this negativity, before I knew it we were entering the market lead by a guide. I was a little reluctant to communicate too much at the beginning. The market showed obvious signs of the unexpected rains. The mud lanes had turned to bog that we skipped over, trying to not make too much of a visible fuss. As our guide started to explain more and more I warmed up to him realising again that I had been wrong and that he was a genuinely lovely man with good intentions. His English was perfect and his knowledge invaluable in guiding us through a truly local market that we would have been unable to decipher otherwise. He introduced us to some vendors who gave us great insights into crafts and practises well lost in a lot of the world. The blacksmith beating hot iron from an open fire, making windows, furniture and all sorts asked us "Is this what you do in New Zealand?". They were very surprised to hear that it is a craft long lost from NZ, known mostly from our textbooks and museums. The wood smith showed us the locks he had made by hand. We past a stall of shoes made from car tyres.
The sense of stepping back in time was so overwhelming here in the Rissani market, it was hard to process.

Time has stood still, an amazing display of craft.

Hand made wooden lock.

There is a treasure-trove of goodies within this seemingly derelict market.

We visited a herbalist who had concoctions for everything. We sat down and awaited our presentation. Out came a large plate with 42 herbs and spices displayed. This was what went into the Ras el hanout we then sniffed and eagerly bought. Of these 42 ingredients about half went into the next blend we sniffed. Then another blend  for fish or chicken, another for couscous, another for berber pizza. After we were all 'smelled' out we were dosed with rose water, argan oil products, solid perfume soaps and finally I had a muslin ball full of herbal goodies stuck into my nose to clear any nasal problems I didn't have. I noticed with an uncomfortable sense that this ball was then put back onto the shelf for the next unsuspecting customer. It was complimentary offered to me, the practice of always offering a gift to the customer. I also tried to politely decline the gift of a natural lipstick that he had added his saliva to to activate.

Interest levels vary, but we all like the food these spices produce.

Unfortunately we didn't get to see the donkey park (were customers leave their donkeys while they shop) , it was not the right day for this. Out we ventured with fruits, herbs and spices, dates and jewelery.

We drove onwards to the Todra Gorge where we were to spend the night. As we traveled the road from Tinghr, we stopped to admire the view of the plantations. Several children raced up the hill on their bicycles to offer us for sale dromedaries they had made from flax like plant.

We traveled on further past more green plantations and berber villages until the towering orange limestone walls of the Todra Gorge began to close in, it was impressive. The Todra is recognized as one of the most spectacular canyons in the world. It is the last 600 meters of the canyon carved out by a river now dried up. At it's narrowest point of 10m wide, the cliffs are more than 500 feet tall on either side. 
We reached our accommodation, 'Auberge Le Festival', well blended into the rocky landscape on the other side of the river bed. The rains had bought some water to the river bed. Quite excitedly we put the land rover into action and drove through it. The owners greeted us with some surprise that we had managed the car across the river. 

We were shown to our very unique accomodation in the 'tower'. Magical views surrounded us.

Chris and Lachan went off exploring to return rather excited saying that they had unexpectantly come across a nomadic family over the hills. This encounter was probably one of Chris's most unique experiences.

Auberge Le Festival.

Lachlan's new love for climbing.

Over a delicious dinner of vegetable soup, vegetable and meatball tagine and chocolate mousse(strangely non-Moroccan), we discussed that in the morning we would all try and visit the nomadic village.

Climbing up and over the hills we came across the first nomadic sights, men herding goats over the rocky terrain. They looked at us suspiciously from the distance, I felt quite uncomfortable as if we were invading their 'secretive' existence. 

We approached rather nervously. A little lower down we came across several tent like structures surrounded by low mounds of wind protective rocks. The general scene was one of organised chaos, bottles scattered everywhere, clothing drying over rocks, tents looking rather rickety.
From within the tents children peered out at us curiously. We approached a women to offer her a pack of NZ playing cards for the children. She seemed rather confused by our actions, I guess this wasn't surprising. She offered us some tea, which we declined. I later realized declining this offer was probably quite insulting but I had felt we were being rather intrusive.

We had two small observers watching from the cliff above as we returned back. They must have been amused by my awkwardness navigating the rocks and pathways. Who fascinated who the most, I wondered?

As we left, the owners of the Auberge told us that the family would soon migrate, probably to the atlas mountains where it would be cooler during the hot summer months to come. This trek from desert to mountains has been the way of live for thousands of years for nomadic Moroccan Berbers.

Departure river crossing.

Highly traversed concrete path through the gorge.