After a frenzied day of driving through the Atlas Mountains (containing the tallest peak in N. Africa) we arrived in the hot, dry Southern Oasis region and the former French Foreign Legion garrison of Ouarzazate. The town is now home to two major film studios, one of which, Atlas Film Corporation, filmed such Hollywood blockbusters as Alexander, Kingdom of Heaven and Sahara. We splashed out and are staying at a resort hotel overlooking the desert. So nice to sit
by a pool with a cool drink in hand when it is 101 degrees.
We’re delaying our departure for another day so that we can prepare for our next arduous mountain pass. Yesterday Sean expertly navigated the narrow, winding road (sans guard rails), which I not-so-whimsically referred to as “Vomit Pass,” dodged geode/mineral sellers who wandered in front of the car and shared the road with small trucks loaded to the top with oranges and watermelons, held on by lone, white robed, head-scarved men clinging to the back and top of the vehicles.
We are enjoying our newfound Canadian citizenship although Moroccans assume that we are British. Most tourists are French and travel by tour bus. We have caused many heads to turn as we pass through small, dusty villages in our beat-up Citroen. It’s us, not the glamorous vehicle that appears exotic. Fair-skinned redheads are a rare sight in this part of the world. People are still incredibly gracious, friendly and willing to work with our limited French skills. Things – food, sites, souvenirs – are quite inexpensive so we really should not complain about the ocassional “hustler,” trying to give us an unwanted tour for the astronomical price of 10 dirhams (about 1 dollar). What we could complain about is the price of gasoline, 5 plus dollars/gallon. But why omplain?
We’re in the Sahara!
Kath
