Day 6 - Hello, Atlas!
The first coupe of days was spent in the more Mediterranean region of Morocco, with lots of oil seed trees, many places that were green; I saw wonderful cities (Tetouan, Chefchauoen, Meknes, Fes, visited Volubilis) full of culture. Now, given the beginning of a new month, I started my foray into the Middle Atlas mountain range.
At night and even in the morning, it was quite cold, but this did not stop me from having breakfast outside the hotel on this Friday, with very light traffic heading up the mountains. After all, it was a public holiday, it being the birth of Mohammed, the first prophet of Allah. The clouds of the previous day had completely disappeared, it was blue skies with uninterrupted sunshine.
Heading uphill, I spotted the first of countless more fossil stands on the side of the road. Morocco is a treasure for fossil hunters - and you can see stones of all colors, petrified shells and God-knows-what-else; I am not an expert, but the country seems to be a gold mine for fossil seekers, if you are interested, I found this article. In some town, people come up to you, some speaking passable German, saying (pretty much the same text), "So you live in Vienna? I have a friend there (guess
if I had said Villach, they'd have had a friend living there, too). Would you like to buy these fossils, it's only Eur 10)".
My pretty much only exposure to fossils
Soon I was in the town of Imouzzer Kandar, then, roughly by lunchtime, I reached Ifrane, at about 1600 meters in elevation. The landscape was quite interesting, it varied between completely barren stretches and green cedar and oak forests. Ifrane is a modern town, established by the French administration in 1920a , due to its Alpine climate, it is a resort town, so that Europeans could find relief from the summer heat. Many call it the Switzerland of Morocco.
European architecture in Ifrane
Getting into town, I made the first wrong turn of the day, but corrected it just after two or three kilometers, riding past the huge royale palace (
remember, the king has palaces everywhere, all quite heavily guarded, here you had soldiers standing every 100 meters next to a completely deserted road - poor guys must be bored to death). I had a quick sandwich, quite overprices (paid over 50 dirhams, so probably had a sort of tourist tax built in) and left town.
While I had seen quite many young children (both boy and girls) and men (not women, though) using their bikes in cities, just outside Ifrane I ran into the first professional biker, Ghazzali. He was a triathlonist, having completed multiple Iron Man competitions - he had even run the Vienna marathon. He gave me good tips as to where to head to.
Ghazzali, midst of a nice forest at about 1600 meters of elevation
Forest - barren - both pictures were taken from pretty much the same place
As Ghazzali said, the road would descend for quite a while, yippieee, but would turn into quite a struggling ascend after the next town of Azrou. Just before town, I rode by some monumental tourist complexes, though they were apparently closed for the winter - I even saw a campground (more for campers and RV's, then for bikers). Getting to an intersection, an older guy struck up a conversation with me and he wanted to invite me to his home. This distracted me and as I later found out, took the second wrong turn of the day. I was convinced I had to descend more, only then would the road head uphill. I rode through Azrou without stopping in the town, then the road levelled out and became quite scenic.
The wrong road after Azrou - still very nice...
Stork nests on this mast
I was roughly 20 kilometers outside Azrou when I finally realized I was on the wrong road - and that I had been heading more or less downhill the entire time. It was around 3 pm and knew by the time I would make it back to Azrou, it would be dark. I had a feeble attempt at hitchhiking, but neither of the two cars that passed me would stop...I was anything but motivated to ride 20 kilometers uphill. I met a car parked on the side of the road, I almost convinced him in taking me back, even wanted to pay him, but he refused. He told me there would be a town about 10 kilometers downhill and that I could take a taxi back from there.
That is what happened. I got to this village, there was a 'petit taxi' waiting for passengers. He threw my bike with the luggage still attached to the top, tied it with a rope and with we were on our way, with about 9 other people, in a car designed for perhaps 5. Luckily, my bike did not fall off the roof, it was a well-invested 15 dirhams I ended up paying. I thought of finding the campground where I had ridden by earlier, it was a taxing incline getting there, in the lowest of all gears. I met this young Italian guy, he advised against camping that night, saying the temperatures were well below freezing, we were at around 1250 meters. I still found the camping place, met a camper couple from Netherlands who were spending 3 months (!) in Morocco - this being their second journey - lucky them. There was no Wifi, the ground was full of stones, it was getting really cold - so I decided to roll back to the center of the town (for the second time). I did not regret this decision.
As said, it was the prophet's birthday and there was quite a celebration going on in town. A group of men (and a single woman) were dancing and singing, dressed in white, surrounded by the town dwellers.
Azrou at dusk, celebration for the prophet
A guy spoke to me in English, it turned out his name was Mohamad and was a Moroccan-American citizen. He recommended a hotel right behind the chanters - it was not my favorite place, but was OK for one night (it was freeeezing in the somewhat shabby room, with the heating not working, I did get an extra blanket, though). He showed me a place making delicious kafta (I could eat that day and night), with some hot sauce, bread, onions and the traditional Moroccan tea. I believe I paid for his dinner, too, but I did not mind (some 55 dirhams), as it was truly delicious, plus we had a good chat. After dinner, he and a friend who joined us showed me around town, which I liked ever more - it was like a mini-edition of Meknes, with a small souk, or market, nice promenades, and cafes. To finish the day, he took me to a patisserie, where I tried a kind of a cream cake - it was delicious (and very inexpensive, I think 3 dirhams).
My dinner being prepared
As it was freezing in my room, I barely brushed my teeth and jumped into bed.
That day, I had made over 100 kilometers on the bike (with some 1600 meters of altitude gain and 1400 meters of descent), but backtracked some 30 of those by cab - so it was just 70 km of useful distance that I had covered. Here is the map.