Morocco and then Menton, France 2018 | A day in the High Atlas

The morning after our night in the Sahara we headed for our next destination, the Todras Valley in the High Atlas Mountains. We knew a little bit about this area, having read the The Forgiven, and the similarities in the town names was unnerving--like the book. At times I pictured myself in the back of the car with the hero, sweating it out, not knowing my fate. En route we stopped to visit a local dealer in fossils and furnishings made from fossils.I think it was in Erfoud that we toured the fossil cooperative. I had no idea what sorts of things were made with the fossils--counter tops and bathroom vanities, tables, wall decorations, fountains, outdoor furniture--anything that could have fossils embedded in it was made here.

As we approached the Gorges, the sky turned black and thunder roared. There had been many floods over the past few years, and whole villages, on the "wrong" side of the river, were abandoned. We were about to learn first-hand about that.

 We arrived late that afternoon at the magnificent Auberge le Festival. I took this shot from the bus, before I knew this was where we would stay. I fancied it some wealthy Moroccan's estate home!

A dry river bed in front of the Auberge

Our room choices were 'cave' or 'tower'. We took the cave! With much help from staff we hauled our luggage across the planks which formed the footbridge over the river. Although we could hear thunder and had seen black clouds across the flatland as we drove from Erfoud, we did not know that by nightfall that little creek would be a raging river.

We checked in, cleaned up, and found some wine before indulging in a gourmet dinner. We started with fresh tomato and cucumber salad  seasoned with a touch of oil and fresh herbs from the hotel garden (the hills are covered in rosemary bushes, thyme and other low lying herbaceous plants). I hadn't yet eaten fresh, uncooked food, but Fattah assured us it would be carefully washed in distilled water and safe to eat. I never knew such a simple salad could taste so good. The second course, a vegetable velouté, the creamy soup I like to make. We ate with long-handled wooden soup spoons, which I'm told we may be able to find in a market in Marrakech. The main course was like moussaka, without the bechamel and eggplant. I would call it a potato scallop with meatballs and squash, in a cream sauce topped off with a dribble of cheese. I savored every creamy bite, til my tummy said whoa, wait for me! And I still found room for chocolate mouse topped with ground nuts. Margaret, alas, was sick, and missed it all. (She's fine now, as I write this.) Throughout the night the rain came down and the river rose until it was gushing down, a thick soup of silt, covering the banks and wiping out our footbridge. ( See previous post: News Flash).

That was quite a start but no match for Saturday. We had breakfast of home made granola, yoghurt, bananas, honey and jam, fresh squeezed orange juice, and omelettes. We were all surprised to see that the river was down, and the footbridge once again anchored into the river bank on each side. We hopped into the van and drove downstream to the small town of Todras Gorges, and walked the length of town taking in the activity. Street vendors tucked into the recesses of the mountain peddling the usual junk: scarves, jewellery, carpets and prayer rugs, fossils and other souvenirs. Across the river were the telltale signs of climbers, including  a map and rope. Someone was already up there...way up there.

A climbing wall in the Todras Gorge

Back in the van and off to the  oasis for a walk.  We picked up a local guide, Nareen, who would take us through the oasis. From above,  you can easily see the plots of land marked out by various crops, scattered among the palms. When you walk through you can see up close alfalfa and corn, Brussels sprouts (grown only for the leaves here, not the flowers), pomegranate trees and cilantro. Plots are separated by irrigation canals that channel the water from the river. Women are working here this morning, harvesting alfalfa with a scythe, bundling and strapping it on to burros, then leading the burros out of the oasis. Men manage the complex of dams and canals for irrigation, opening up the canals to flood the crops at night. We are invited to walk through this private land on the understanding that we will not take photos.

TO be continued. Too many connection problems here.