Wide brown flat expanses. High red mountains. Huge green filled gorges. All colour and brighten each day’s journey – today is no exception.
We slowly edge out of the Zagora site and onto the baked mud track that runs alongsdide an aquaduct. It looks as if it hasn’t seen water for centuries. It’s forty hours since our arrival. Suddenly “Phut-phut”!!! That bright smiley face pops up again and hope beams in at Mary-Ann’s window. Monsieur Phut-phut, AKA Barnacle Bill, must have attached his-self to Beastie. Either that or he’s been waiting outside the site perimeter wall all this time. Like sticky silky cobwebs these traders can be hard to shake off. At the end of the track he turns right. We turn left!
We’re on our way to Tazarine. Short journey today of 120K. The landscape switches from mountain to expansive flatland. The gathering heat takes effect. Swirling mini whirlwinds spring up before us. Caught up in their own invisible frenzy. Millions of grains of sand sucked up into golden candyfloss twists. They rush about in desperation. Forever searching. Barely floating above the earth like lost souls in this wilderness.
We arrive at our planned stopover mid-afternoon. Big doors firmly locked. Try a couple of numbers. Both switch to Arabic voicemail. We’re on a narrow “this track leads to nowhere” track. It turns out to be a bit tricky getting to point Beastie back to where we came from. Mary-Ann’s help outside at ground level prevents me from self-harming Beastie.
Several kilometres back we’d spotted a roadside sign advertising Camp Serdraw. We head back. Take a closer look at the sign. We’re in luck. A motorhome icon amongst the others. We turn left. It’s barren. It’s bumpy. Very bumpy. We’re seasoned bumponers. We almost enjoy it. Good job we don’t wear dentures. 2.5K into “the interior” and we spot a low level wall and buildings. It’s still bumpy.
Briham welcomes us with a “hospitality tea”. His family own and run this four hectares. A previous farm. In 2004 his father deciding to convert to camping, bivouacs, and excursions when a long dry period threatened their existence. Briham tells us we are near sand. We’re off!
We end what’s been a fab day with a candlelit tajine dinner.
