Feb. 17
Today is our thirteenth wedding anniversary. Eve and I are going to take the car and go off by ourselves.
We went to one of the local shops to buy cheese, bread, figs and wine, also a bar of Pardo chocolate. We’re going to have a picnic.
While chatting with the shop keeper we mentioned we were from Canada. Hearing this excited him.
He said “I love Canada”, then he pointed out a little Canadian flag pin he wore on his smock. that was pretty cool to see
He said “everyone here loves Canadians”, but at first he thought we were Americans; as did everyone probably.
Americans didn’t seem to be very well liked in Morocco in 1975.
The shopkeeper ended up giving us a few small things for free, which was a bit surprising based on our previous experience with most Moroccans so far, with the exception of Stephen, Amon, this guy, the guys at the bar and at the bistro.
Maybe I was a bit too harsh in my condemnation of the people in Casablanca. Maybe they treated us badly cuz they thought we were Americans; but that’s still no excuse for being assholes.
We went back to the tent and got out the sticky back flag decals that were on the backpack when we bought it.
The reason we removed them in the first place was that a traveler told us,
‘a flag makes you a target’. It may have been one of the Montreal guys, not sure.
Anyhow, Eve put one on her bag, I put the other on the sleeve of my jean jacket.
But when you think about it for just a second, when you’re a group of white people in Morocco you’re always going to be a target, flag or no flag.
We packed our stuff for the picnic and headed north into the High Atlas foothills. This would give us an opportunity to see a bit of the scenery we missed coming to Agadir on the night drive.
As we drove along the main road we saw several little communities scattered about.
We drove into one of the towns along the way, we just went for a quick walk about and checked out their little Medina.
Not to be to be confused with the Marrakesh Medina, this was more like a collective of neighborhood yard sales merged together to give the appearance of a small scale Medina, but it was really just a flea market; but with new or handmade items.
The vendors in these small towns were more inclined to just let you take your time looking at their wares; but if in a few minutes you haven’t decided on a purchase they would start on you, but we were okay with that. We were now used to doing business the Moroccan way.
We walked around a few villages and saw some really beautiful gardens adorned with all kinds flowering plants and shrubs in a variety of colors, many types of cactus and hanging plants. As gardens go they were pretty cool, any plant lover would be impressed.
These gardens are absolutely beautiful, and this blue color
was popular everywhere
Their garden structure and presentation is nothing short of artistic.
Along this stretch of main road where we encountered these small communities, everything was so bright and colorful, absolutely beautiful.
There was greenery galore, lawns, palm trees, vines growing on some small buildings. There were also ponds with small fish. There were elements that gave you a bit of a jungle vibe; it was so awesome.
When you stand there and take it all in and see how lush and full of life it is; it just blows you away.
Then there was the other side of the road.
Facing the other side of the road, looking from end to end as far as you could see, there wasn’t a single tree.
There was only a dirt and sand floor, some dunes and several patches of ground scrub plants. It looked like a total wasteland completely devoid of life compared to the other side; except for one old run down shack standing out in the middle of this piece of shit wasteland
This was a 180 degree floral flip looking from one side of the road to the other. The contrast was extreme to say the least.
To actually see the contrast up close and personal creates an atmosphere of
“full of life” on one side of the road to “barren and desolate” on the other side.
We continued up into the hills, but not too far. Along the way we took a very narrow side road for a short distance.
It was more of a beaten path or a bike trail than a road. It looked barely used, and just wide enough for our little car.
We drove as far as we had to in order to be away from any kind of activity; we just wanted some privacy.
We found a spot to pull over to have our picnic. We sat on the side of a small rolling hill with our blanket and bag of goodies under a cluster of blossoming almond trees.
This was a beautiful spot, hills all around us, the High Atlas mountains in front of us.
There were no car truck or moped sounds, no horn honking. It was quiet, peaceful and very romantic.
All you could hear were the birds and the breeze.
We smoked some hash and ate our lunch, drank some wine and laughed a lot, smoked more hash, and drank more wine, and of course did what couples do when they get some alone time.
We were happy to have had the day to ourselves.
It was good.
It was now getting to be late in the day. The sun was already getting close to the mountain tops. Night closes in quickly up here, and the amount of time between dusk and dark is very short.
We stayed just until the sun got to the mountain top, took a picture and started heading back.
It wasn’t too late when got back to camp so we all went to the bar for some beers to celebrate our anniversary. I was very careful with the beers this time.
After a couple of drinks Eve and I went back to our tent.
We had a great day, no danger, no impending doom, just a fun day.
Now it’s time to get some sleep. Tomorrow we’re all heading south to the Atlantic coastal town of Aglou.
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