In Zagora I checked into a hotel with air conditioning (that was a must). Hotel La Veville, another cute hotel with a swimming pool and a shaded patio. That night, I dreamt about Kasbahs.
The plan was to leave Zagora early in the morning while it was still relatively cool, and drive to Rissani. However, when my guide tried to wake me up, I was dead to the world, and I didn't hear him knocking at my door. Later, I apologized for having kept him waiting till noon. Before leaving Zagora, I toured the little remote town and took photos of the famous Timbuktu sign.
Rush hour in Zagora...
"Timbuktu - 59 days" sign in Zagora -
Road of 1000 Kasbahs...
Further along the Road of 1000 Kasbahs...We drove down the road of a thousand Kasbahs to Rissani, a small market town, to visit my guide's sister. She welcomed me with a glass of hot mint tea, the ritual drink of Morocco. I watched as she put the fresh green mint into the pot and the way she skillfully broke bits of sugar off a larger chunk and the manner in which she poured the tea from high up into the little glasses. She then poured it back into the pot before serving it to me. The Moroccans refer to this as the mint tea ceremony. The tea tasted delicious.
I was also invited to join them for dinner. This was my first introduction to the Moroccan National dish cous cous (Berber in origin). The cous cous is steamed in the top container of a large two-tiered pot called couscoussier, while in the bottom container meat and vegetables simmer in an aromatic broth. This is served on a large communal platter.
Eating took place on the roof. Everyone found their places in the approved manner. The men sat on the floor around a large low table and the women and children around another one. I carefully observed this traditional Arab fashion of eating always being conscientious not to do anything contrary. Using two fingers (maximum three) of your right hand and eating only that what is directly in front of you on the communal plate. I watched how the women rolled the cous cous into a small ball in the palm of their hands (sort of like a falafal). I tried this process, but couldn't quite get the hang of it. The women and the children were rather amused by me. Also, it is customary in a Muslim home to remove your shoes before you enter to sit down on the carpet. I will always remember the Berber home generous open-hearted hospitality. Enshallah.
After this incredible food experience we resumed our journey for the Erg Chebbi, Morocco's largest sand dunes. We drove over the pre-Sahara, an open black rock desert, known as the black hammada – the size of several huge football fields - which spread out in all directions right to the horizon with nothing in sight. A tremendous, flat, empty wasteland with no track, no path and no landmarks to guide a traveller.
Rock desert
Black rock desert known as the black hammada with the Sahara on the horizon...
...more of the black hammada.
