Today we were up even before the chorus of cocks had a chance to start their morning vocal warm-ups. A long drive was ahead and we had a desert double date booked in for 6pm and camels do not like to be left waiting.
Something to mention about the Moroccan way, is that although everyone is ‘ready’ at the time they say, they then stand around for a good 10 minutes chatting about secret Berber matters. Now picture a tranquil, quiet valley, moon out, stars shining, sun still asleep and, added to the mix, a bit of Salah (our driver).
Even at 5am, Salah arrives on the scene with a booming voice looking (and sounding) like he had just consumed 3 Red Bulls with a triple shot espresso chaser. There was certainly no danger of him falling asleep at the wheel. Lauren, Lahson, and I all took the opportunity for some extra shut-eye with Captain Crazy (amkhelaw = Berber for Crazy) driving us over the mountainous terrain.
We passed through village after village and round corner after corner. We felt like two bruised apples rolling around at the bottom of a fruit bowl. The only way we could endure the rally driving was to pretend that we had just swiped in to a 3hr roller-coaster marathon at Disneyland. Salah was born to drive and drive fast!
About 4hours into our journey, there was a long discussion that ensued between Salah and Lahson and the only word that kept popping up was, ‘Total’. We both woke from our Disneyland dream and asked Lahson what Salah was all fired up about. It was all about petrol. Petrol? (we enquired) Salah could tell that the last petrol station had mixed the petrol with water. The word, ‘Total’, kept popping up as that is the only brand you can trust in Morocco.
So, after a stop at a Total petrol garage (of course) the landscape started to change quite dramatically. We cashed in our figurative Disneyland tickets and swapped them for helmets as we now felt as though we were part of a land speed record attempt. As we flew across the tarmac, the mountains flattened into a thirsty and parched land. The houses looks like giant sandcastles, varying slightly depending on what type of bucket their maker used in the construction process.
Although it was a ‘travel’ day, we still saw some sights that certainly aren’t on any tourist agendas. At one point, we came across a truck which had tipped onto its side due to an absolutely ridiculous packing job of heavy rubber piping. Well, Salah and Lahson were not going to miss out on this roadside action. They left the car running, shouted something in Berber and latched themselves onto the side of the truck like two leeches tugging with all their might.
Finally, after 10 hours of driving we had arrived at the mighty Sahara. From afar, I mistook the sand dunes to be another mountain range. Yet, as we drew closer, they looked like giant egg whites that had been beaten into angry, orange peaks.
A quick turn around was needed, so we got adequately dressed to enter the Sahara and met our camel companions. Little did we know, that camels are notoriously known to be uncomfortable. I can substantiate that rumour, as I felt like I was sitting on a groaning, spitting, moving animal carcass.
However, the sun was setting, the wind was up and we journeyed into the Sahara.