Road trip: sun, sea, surf, sand, snow

On Wednesday morning, we left the deserted streets of Marrakech (as all the locals prepared their sheep), and drove off. We were very grateful for the deserted streets, since it was me at the wheel on the wrong side of the car and road. We also had picked up another traveller – a 50 odd newly divorced French lady, who decided to come, then decided she couldn’t, then came, who said she would do some of the driving, but didn’t have her licence, who had run out of money and whose back card wasn’t working (it was a public holiday thing). Luckily she only spoke French, so only Sophie had to deal with her.

We aimed to drive 200 km on the first day, west out of Marrakech, over the Atlas mountains. In winter. On narrow, very windy roads. When we knew the road had only just reopened after snow. With grey clouds gathering on the horizon. Luckily there was no one else on the road, so crossing the road to avoid the ice patches wasn’t a problem. The drive was spectacular. Sophie watched the road so I could watch the mountains. We climbed up out of the dry plains around Marrakech, through terraced green valleys, into the snow covered mountains, over the windy pass, with roadside stalls selling souvenirs every few hundred metres (even on the pass). Over the pass, the snow rapidly cleared, the trees disappeared, the settlements were frequent (the road followed the river) but well blended as they were made from the same rock and mud as the local environment.





Over the mountains (the 200 kms took over 4 hours), we wandered around Ait Ben Haddou, amid the congealing sheep’s blood, before heading into Ouarzazate to find our hotel and an early night because Sophie had come down with the flu that had plagued everyone in the US.




We woke on Thursday morning, after a good nights sleep in our toasty heated rooms, to rain. Which meant snow back on the pass. The road was closed. So rather than head further west to the Sahara and risk not being able to get back to Marrakech the following day, we headed south to a lower pass, and a long drive back to Marrakech, via the ocean. It was almost 400 km, along windy mountain roads in the snow, through quiet towns, that got busier as the day progressed. By the time we reached the coast it was warm, and the roads were crowded with pedestrians, donkeys, cyclists, motor cyclists, and even the occasional car. We also noticed that sheep skins started to appear, drying on walls in the sun. We stayed at a youth hostel on the beach in a small fishing village. The princess didn’t manage so well with the unwashed bedding.

Our last day on the road, I enjoyed the sun with an early walk on the beach (among the sheeps horns and broken tiles). We cruised up the coast to Essaouira, stopping to photograph camels, donkeys, goats, and the coast. Lunch was a fantastic seafood spread at the fish markets. We finally got back into Marrakech at peak hour, still with me driving. Oh joy.











Our last few nights were spent in our gorgeous Riad, feasting on the gorgeous breakfasts of crepes, coffee, hot chocolate, juice, baguettes, jam and marmalade, and wandering through the markets (and shopping). We were lucky to have assistance in finding the Riad – it was down a long, winding, dead-end lane just off the souks, so it was hard enough to find our way back once we had been there. We ended up buying 3 carpets (2 for me, 1 for Soph), a range of fossils for Adam, some lanterns, a couple of decorative boxes, scarves, slippers and then some. And we could have easily bought more.

Soph having breakfast at the Riad