After breakfasting of scrambled eggs with tomatoes and onions, Jim and I walked on up the valley. Breathing the biting cold air hurt my nose but the quiet was intense as the rising sun slowly changed the colour of the mountains.
This morning's drive took us through a pass with lower peaks on either side. Berber tents were scattered on both sides of the road and Berber women and children ran towards us when we appeared, calling for dirham, "stylos" and bonbons. Kelvin handed out lollies from the cab while we took photographs from the back. Some of the women and girls were beautiful with dark eyes and high cheekbones; some had much darker complexions than I had expected. All wore conglomerations of colours and fabrics none of which appeared to be natural fibres or homespun. The sun beat down on us and, at last, we really felt like we were overlanding.
Finally started to descend through the rocky terrain. Very dry and rugged, the road so narrow in places that it was barely wide enough for our truck. Sometimes we could have touched the rock wall through the sides of the truck. Saw a single palm tree, and then groups of them. Then we entered Todra Gorge and plunged into dimness between towering rocks - only to travel 200m more and come face-to-face with a huge orange tourist coach and what seemed like hordes of tourists - a shock after our relative isolation over the last two days.
Our truck load seemed to entertain the Berbers beside the crystal-clear river in the gorge as much as they and their donkeys interested us. Lunched from the truck and wandered back up the gorge. Just through the narrow pass Vicki pointed out a female shepherd and her goats halfway up an almost vertical rock face hundreds of metres high. How had she got there? It looked impossible. More evidence of the Berbers’ binding relationship with the land that their lives depend on.
Drove on out of the gorge on asphalt roads. Warm and windy in the crows' nest, enjoying the slightly elevated views over-the-hills of a palm tree-ringed town at the foot of a mountain range. Sometimes had to dodge very low power lines strung across the road.
We made a shopping stop and picked up Kelvin’s friend Hassan and his 17-year-old wife. Drove to her family’s village over wide flat almost desert like terrain that reared suddenly into mountain ranges at opposite horizons - the country so dramatically different from this morning. Drove through very narrow streets lined with mud-walled homes, ducking under olive branches and general overhanging greenery, sharp palm fronds hitting my hand and right ear. Us five crowsnesters were squealing by the end, burying our faces in each other to protect ourselves.
Camped just out of town on flat baked area with hills on both horizons; fantastic views as the sun went down. Hassan is staying with us for the night and he prayed to Mecca as we set up.
I'm sleeping out tonight rather than on the truck. Feeling strange - wanting to retreat from everyone for a while so to bed early with Walkman and stars. The last few days have been so packed with sights and sounds I think I just need some quiet and non-communication for a while. Went to bed at 7.30, tuned into Mozart’s 23rd concerto and watched the sky. Saw a satellite and two falling stars.
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