Tafraoute Hike (Morocco)

142.4 kms

Day 1: A Geological Wonderland

34 kms, March 19, 2013

The Traveler is excited about reaching mountains again. Mountain is his preferred landscape to experience, as you never know what you might discover around the next corner. And he gets the feeling that the Tafraoute region in the Anti-atlas is going to be a lot of fun. He gets on a bus heading that direction, where he hopes to start another day of exploration

Early in the morning the bus starts to climb high up the slopes above a valley that plunges thousands of meters below. Way down below there are a whole row of little villages beckoning the Traveler. The cliffs are magnificent as well—and there a couple villages even the ruins of a little castle perched on its rim.

The Traveler's got a battle going on in his mind. Part of him wants to get off the bus and continue on on foot—this kind of scenery can only really be appreciated on foot, giving you plenty of time to really sink it in. But another part wants to keep riding, to see as much of this region as possible.

Finally they reach a wide flat valley. Right in the middle of it is a butte, rising up from the valley floor, with a postcard perfect castle village perched at the top. The Traveler whips out his camera for a picture—even though he knows it’s a pathetic way to experience such a cool discovery… speeding past it in a bus. So when the bus stops at a sizable town down the road, he just can’t take it any more. He grabs his stuff and gets off. He has no idea how far it is to Tafraoute… but there’s no way he's going to not continue this stretch on foot.

Heading up to the Mountains

Idougidnif is small, but nicely fixed up with a little plaza and a row of shops. So the first order of the day is to get himself a hearty breakfast—as who knows when will be the next time he'll have the chance to have a good meal. He goes for his favorite dish here in the south of Morocco: egg and tomato omelette. The Traveler worries that the guy might overcharge him, as this is a slightly touristy area, but the cook refuses to give the price—telling the Traveler his prices are reasonable. Afterwards, the Traveler is a little embarrassed when he is only charged 6 dirhams (50 cents)… He feels a bit undercharged this time.

What the Traveler doesn’t do is stock up on food for the road. Figuring there will be shops where he can buy snacks on the way. He kind of likes the feeling of finding his food on the road—perhaps a leftover hunter-gatherer instinct… But this time it’s going to turn out to be a bad decision.

After breakfast, the Traveler explores the village a bit more, past a scattering of houses, and small orchards. There is something that looks interesting: a side road heading up to a jagged gorge in the mountains, with a sign saying there’s a village up there. The Traveler is intrigued by this mystery—a town tucked away up among those cliffs somewhere. Probably a dead end… I’ll spend an hour or so to get up there, then an hour backtracking back, he warns himself… but he just can’t resist. This is a day of adventure and unexpected discovery, isn’t it? He cuts across the fields and up the steep rocky hillside, figuring this will either be his best, or worst decision of the day.

It turns out to be his best impulsive travel decision in a long time.

An Irresistible Gorge

The Traveler gets up the hill fairly quickly, creating shortcuts straight up the mountainside rather than following the road. Soon he's entering a narrow gorge, where he can hear a stream far below. He still hasn’t done his official Idougidnif concert, so when he reaches a little clearing with a nice view, he sits down in the shade for his first strum session of the day. He's got a lot of songs that he's been working on for the last couple of weeks that need to be “released’, park bench style, and this seems like a perfect place to do it, joining his voice with the sounds of undisturbed nature.

On up the road, there’s another massive butte, towering high above the gorge. But this one has a village at the bottom, not at the top, with houses and a mosque scattered on the steep hillside. Then down across on the other side of the gorge is another little cluster of large villas.

What the Traveler doesn't see are people here in Amzkssan. It seems like these are mainly summer homes, and the residents of this village have all gone to the big cities, made money, and come back to build big houses that they only visit on vacation.

As the Traveler finds out later, it was several decades ago, there was a period of severe drought, and people from this region (within 150 km or so radius from Tafraoute) were forced to go to the cities—or starve. There it seems they found that by being very frugal, working together, and using good business sense they were able to not only survive, but prosper. Eventually the men took their wives and children to the cities to join them, and now pretty much all that’s left in these villages are the large houses that they’ve built. Just a few people still live here, cultivating the land.

The Traveler has a mixture of feelings about this. On one hand, he's happy for these people at having been able to prosper and improve their lives, but on the other hand, it’s kind of sad to see a noble culture and a diligent way of life—difficult as it was—disappearing. He knows Tafraoute folks try to preserve distinct aspects of their culture even in the city, but who knows if their children and grandchildren will be able to.

It’s interesting how a little rain can change the way you look at the world around you. Three weeks ago, Tafraoute region was bone dry. Now, they’ve gotten some serious rain and, although vegetation is sparse, it’s green. Back then the Traveler would've had the feeling “there’s no way people can live off this land”… now he looks around and thinks “living off this land is difficult, but doable”. Of course, rain is notoriously unpredictable in these parts meaning some years “living off the land” is simply impossible.

Discovering a Waterfall

The road doesn’t end in Amzkhssan, it continues winding up the mountains. This means one of three things: One, it’s going to dead end somewhere way, way far away, and the Traveler is going to have a long, annoying walk back, or two, it’s going to reconnect with the other north-south road which the Traveler can then follow south to Tafraoute. He did look over this region on Google Maps, but didn’t really pay attention too much, as he wasn’t planning to take this route. So this might be his first chance in quite some time to hike through a region having no idea really where he's going. It’s good to have this sort of adventure from time to time… so he decides to keep going, deep into The Middle of Nowhere.

But what happens next, in itself makes the adventure worth it. He comes over a ridge and back down to the valley. Right in front of him is a picture perfect waterfall, bursting out of the side of the cliff—the scene reminds him of pictures of Yosemite in California. But this is no well known tourist trap. There are no signs pointing to a waterfall… He’d certainly never heard of a waterfall this direction.

Visiting a waterfall is always a highlight of his travels. But to go around a bend a unexpectedly see a beautiful waterfall is a different experience altogether. It's only happened rarely in his travels. This time it’s an equally special experience—perhaps moreso as this is such an isolated location which you would expect to be very dry. The Traveler quickly follows a path down to the valley for a closer look.

This waterfall is not about quantity, but quality, with water seemingly appearing out of nowhere, and flowing smoothly down the side of the cliff into a semi-encircled pool. No “I was here” graffiti. No sign that anyone other than the locals know about this place. Maybe it’s because this waterfall might only exist during the rainy season. Anyways, today it belongs to the Traveler. And if it weren’t such a cold, cloudy day, he’d jump in for a swim. He does take a video clip, of course, a sits down for a concert, with the sound of water falling as a background effect.

It’s starting to rain a little bit. Maybe I should stick around, as I could take shelter in the cave under the falls—perhaps my last shelter in a long time, he figures. But then, suddenly, the sun comes out and it actually starts to feel a little warm.

And the thought pops into his head… should I? He looks down at that enticing pool. It’s one of his favorite side-adventures of the Global Parkbench Tour, finding magical places to jump in for a swim. He knows, to swim in this pool will create a special memory that will stick with him forever… But it’s going to be really damn cold…

Finally, he does it. He jumps into the coldest water he's felt since the freezing cold ocean water in Namibia. It’s that thousands of needles poking you feeling—and deep too. But he has to get to the waterfall itself and feel it pounding on his head… Something ceremonial about that… He makes it, not straying far from the edge, in case he freezes up or something… then back to shore. A very short, but amazing swimming moment. He doesn't know what the significance is of this sort of side-adventure… you’ve just got to do it to know the feeling.

He takes a shortcut straight up the mountainside, skipping the zigzag switchbacks, until he reaches what seems like a mountain pass with another valley beyond. This must be a watershed, with water behind me flowing east to the desert, and water in front of me flowing west. He's definitely getting farther and farther from any place familiar. But still wants to keep going.

Up ahead is another village Tudma, and luckily the Traveler sees at least one person so he can ask the name of the village. It would suck to discover a village but not be able to “count it” because you don’t know what it’s name is!

Why would people want to live here?

Tudma is actually the beginning of a “Valley Civilization”, a stretch of valley several kilometres long, with scatterings of houses and hamlets along the slopes along with orchards and cultivated plots. There really isn’t any flat fertile lowland. Instead, in this region people have carved out thousands of terraces into the sides of the mountains. The Traveler's never seen terracing to this extent outside of the Far East. And what’s mind boggling about this area is that these are not gentle, fertile slopes—these hillsides are often 70% rock… so you’ve got to be really determined if you expect to grow your food here.

Of course, not all of this part of Morocco is that rugged. To the north of here are the plains of Biougra and Taraoudant, a vast, flat, well irrigated area. To the west is Tiznit, another flat agricultural area. Which makes the Traveler wonder… why would people choose to move here and try to live off such a rocky terrain?

Later he asks people about it, but can’t really get a clear answer. His theory is that, back in the day, there were constant conflicts in the plains between different Berber tribes and between Arabs and Berbers. At some point these people decided it was better to just get out of there and come here where nobody would want to invade them—as there’s nothing here that would tempt lowlanders, used to a much easier life, to want to try and invade… Not to mention that the narrow gorges you have to follow to get here would be easy to defend against invaders.

Perhaps they started out as herdsmen, and gradually, painstakingly began to cut out these terraces in the mountainside using basic tools. They earned the right to live here through sweat and tears. But even that wasn’t enough. During dry years there simply isn’t enough water for their crops, no matter how hard they worked to make this land cultivatable.

Necessity became the mother of invention, and now these people are using their same skills and determination to prosper in the cities.

The Traveler ponders on this as he follows paths down to the bottom of the valley and up the other side. The path disappears and he has to climb up terrace by terrace, sometimes blocked by overgrowth. Many of these plots are still being cultivated—although the only people he sees working are construction workers, building yet more big summer homes for the natives who have made their fortunes in the cities.

At the far end of the valley there’s one empty hamlet right at the base of a cliff that entices the Traveler for a closer look… and he decides to count Anamr as another “town”, even though he doesn’t see anybody home.

A Hike through Middle Earth

After Anamr, the terraces end and he starts a lonely stretch climbing higher and higher up the mountains. There’s a magic here, with jagged peaks on both sides, half covered in mist. But Traveler starts feeling lonely and isolated. He hasn’t come across a single store since Idougidnif, and he's hungry and running short on water. Also, it’s quite cold, even with a jacket and hes not equipped to sleep outside in this type of weather… and he doesn't even know if he's getting closer to civilization or farther from it!

Normally he wouldn’t worry too much about food or shelter in rural Morocco. If it gets late and he can’t find a place to stay, the locals will take him in. He doesn’t usually like to do this, as he doesn’t like to freeload off of people—but it is nice to have that as a backup plan. But here in this region it’s a bit hard for people to be hospitable if nobody’s home!

Anyways, he tries not to worry to much. This is an Adventure into the Unknown unlike any he's had in a long time, so he's just going to relish the experience.

Finally he reaches the top of yet another mountain pass… another watershed… and down into another “Valley Civilization”. This one has a flat area on the bottom and even a small lake. There’s only one village here though, perched atop the cliff on yonder side. Maybe there will be a store there… he quickly takes another shortcut down the hillside. On this trip it seems he's spent almost half the time taking shortcuts rather than following the road, which is nice—but pretty rough on his shoes. Down at the bottom there’s a little trickle of water, which doesn’t look clean enough to drink. Strange… there aren’t any villages upstream to pollute it, the Traveler is almost positive. He also notices a sturdy concrete walking bridge over the stream, unlike the typical makeshift bridge using scraps of wood... another reminder that folks have worked together to do things right in modernizing their region.

The Traveler reaches the base of the valley where he looks for a shortcut up the cliff to the village at the top. Evening is approaching… but he still have to do a quick concert dedicated to his last village, Anamr. After a tiring climb, he reaches a cluster of shoddy but quaint houses perched with a magnificent view… But unfortunately he is only greeted by a rather unfriendly guard dog. He does see lights and hear voices from a couple of the houses here in Fasaoun, and common sense tells him that this might be his last time to find food and lodging… but he's still a bit shy to just go knock on people’s doors, so he continues on into the dusk…

The road is completely quiet—in fact, he hasn’t seen a vehicle in a couple of hours. It feels like he's getting farther and farther from civilization, and nighttime is almost here. Then he goes around a bend and sees a house being built, squeezed right next to a giant boulder. There are a couple women working the fields—a heartwarming sight. On the other side is the little village of Tagadirt where I find another unusual sight: a park bench!

Yep, in front of a newly built house is a little plaza and two benches where you can sit and gaze out over another small, but picturesque valley.

They must’ve know that the Global Parkbench Concert Tour was coming their way… and they made preparations, smiles the Traveler

But right now Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs is kicking in, and he's mainly thinking of food and lodging. He sees a man coming down the cliff, who is looking at the Traveler, probably wondering what the hell he's doing here.

“Salaam aaleikum,” the Traveler greets “kayn shee hanut bash n shree lkhobz o shee hazha karib men hna?” (Is there a store to buy bread or something near here?) He tells the Traveler there’s a village with a store maybe two hours away (the Traveler assumes he means walking), and the market town of Tanalt maybe 3 hours away where there might be lodging. He then offers to go back up the hill to fetch some bread for the Traveler, who accepts the offer, as his energy is starting to run pretty low. He hope the man will let him pay for it, but no…

The man is heading the same way as the Traveler, so they chat for a bit. He tells the Traveler that he’s one of the few who lives here year round, working the land. “Is this rain going to be enough for the crops this year?”

“The rain is fine” he tells the Traveler, “the problem is the wild boars” he points to his field “they tore it up last night. They destroy much of our crops”

Wild boars. The Traveler had forgotten all about them. These are actually the most dangerous wild animals in Morocco and are known to attack, and even kill people. Suddenly he realizes that, around here, it’s not people he needs to be afraid of… it’s the pigs. The idea of spending the night outdoors is feeling less and less appealing.

Finally his Good Samaritan heads off to his field and the Traveler continues on alone.

Hiking in the Dark

It’s dark now. But it isn’t too long before he sees a welcome sight: lights. Enough of them clustered together to make a sizable village in the valley far below. Now, if he can just get there before everything shuts down and everybody goes to bed…

The problem with hiking in the dark he quickly finds out is that you can’t take shortcuts. So he's forced to follow the road with it’s torturously long switchbacks. He doubts the fellow in Tagadirt took that into consideration when he said it would take 2 hours to reach the next town. And as he hurries down the slopes, he hears the final call to prayer—which will probably be his last chance to see people outside. He picks up the pace.

As the Traveler finally reaches the valley floor, he notices a big spike in the temperature. Up on the ridge there was an icy wind… down here it feels quite pleasant… He still doesn’t want to sleep outside though. Finally, he reaches a little village where there’s one little shop that’s closed up tight. He does reach a mosque just as the men are heading home from their prayers. The Traveler asks a fellow if there’s a place he can stay the night here, and the guys doesn’t seem too welcoming. He does say that there should be a hotel in Tanalt, down the road. But the Traveler wonders if he’s just saying that so he doesn’t feel obligated to offer lodging.

The Traveler reaches a crossroads: Tafraoute to his left, Tanalt to his right. Tafraoute is his final destination, but Tanalt is where, supposedly, he should be able to find a place to stay the night. He takes the road to Tanalt.

After a kilometer or so, he sees yet another cluster of lights far below… and yet another long series of switchbacks down deeper into the valley. The Traveler must have been on top of the world. It feels like he's been going downhill forever. Then it starts to rain. Who cares… he figures he'll just get to Tanalt and figure something out.

A car passes by, the first one he's seen in maybe 5 hours. An older fellow tells the Traveler to get in his SUV. There’s a rifle in between the driver and passenger seat—something that wouldn’t look out of place at all, say, in rural Pennsylvania, but looks really odd here in Morocco. The Traveler's guess is he carries it to shoot wild boars he might encounter on the way. The guys is clearly a respectable looking fellow, so the Traveler figures he has no reason to be concerned.

“Where are you from?” the man asks

“America” the Traveler responds

“We say America is our father… America keeps us supplied with wheat so we can eat… and France is our mother” the man says solemnly.

The Traveler's never heard that one before. But this fellow has clear reason to feel gratitude for these countries. He’s spent many years working in France, and from the look of his vehicle has done quite well.

He drives the Traveler up Tanalt’s one street to a café that he says doubles as a hotel, and kindly waits to make sure they have vacancy. Looks like this day is going to have a happy ending after all.

Berber-Rock Jam Session

In Tanalt the Traveler enters a dingy, dirty café with three fellows sitting inside. There’s a television that’s showing a TV series that vaguely brings back memories of a distant previous life. The Traveler's only been away from civilization for a day, but it feels more like a month. The room is a reasonable 5 euros, and the owner manages to fry up an egg for the Traveler and provides some biscuits and yoghurt—which he overcharges for… and there’s no water whatsoever. The Traveler doesn't care. This sure beats spending the night out with the wild boars.

But his day’s adventures aren’t quite over. One of the fellows, an older guy wearing a traditional djellaba and a baseball cap is fiddling around with a rebab, traditional Berber violin, and spotting the guitar invites the Traveler to join him for a jam session. The Traveler pulls it out, and tries to follow along, but as usually happens, He doesn't get the rhythm quite right and messes things up. They do much better when the Moroccan tries to follow the Traveler, and does impressively well improvising for his bluegrass song “Giants on Earth” and reggae style “Happy land” The Traveler decides to give a shot playing his new favorite “Me and El Maghreb”, a song about Morocco, and he loves the combination of his folk rock style with his mournful violin sound—which is normally played with more chirpy rhythms… Fortunately he thinks of whipping out the camera a doing a short video clip.

This is a country where things don’t come to you easily in El Maghreb

The earth is harsh the sky is fickle many barriers in between you and your dreams

But no matter the disappointments here people continue to believe they can achieve

For every locked door they’ll try a hundred different keys one will succeed

They learn about many countries

Who knows where that door might lead, across the sea

But no matter how far they go

They still hold that sense of identity in El Maghreb...

The Traveler really likes this guy… He even has fleeting thoughts of the two getting together… forming a rock/Berber fusion band…

And with that, he calls it a night, and heads to bed.

Day 2: The Hike to Tafraoute

38 kms, March 20, 2013

Next day the Traveler is feeling very refreshed. He goes up to the roof to soak in the view of the grimy village with mountains all around, partially covered with clouds. This town feels much poorer and down to earth than the empty villages he passed yesterday. People here, it seems are still just trying to scrape by the traditional rural way. He heads out, making sure sure he stocks up on food and water, grabs another eggs and tomato omelette… and he's ready. He knows which direction Tafraoute is, and is confident he can get there tonight where another warm bed should be waiting for him… so this is going to be an easy, relaxed day compared to the uncertain adventure of yesterday.

He runs into the village sheikh, who stopped by last night. It’s the law in these isolated parts to report any foreigner staying in town. He’s a friendly, respectable looking fellow and offers to hook the Traveler up with a ride. The Traveler explains that, thanks, but he really wants to walk. The sheikh seems to understands, points out the way, and the Traveler bids Tanalt farewell.

This time the Traveler can skip the switchbacks entirely as he retraces his steps back up the mountain to the road he was on yesterday. He cuts straight through the oasis at the bottom of the valley and up the slopes on the other side, trying to be careful not to do to much damage as he clambers up the terraces. Here he comes back through the village of Tissi which seemed very inhospitable last night. Now, shops are open people are friendly and helpful. He's told that there’s a shortcut through the mountains if he wants to go to Tafraoute, but it isn’t marked. The Traveler is worried that he might end up back where he was yesterday and doesn’t want to take chances. He figures he should stick to a predictable route today.

Tissi has some sort of flat space—but not densely cultivated as Tanalt. Then the switchbacks start again, as the road winds down, down the mountain.

Houses in the Clouds

One thing the Traveler has noticed in this area is the effort people go to to do things the right way. For example, for a footbridge across a stream, they don’t just use some scrappy board, they make a concrete bridge with steps and even handrails. Also, the roads here are narrow, but almost all paved, even to a tiny village. He's told later that this isn’t due to the government’s special interest in developing this region, it’s because the people here work together and get things done. Their hard earned money isn’t just spent on houses—they also pool their resources to improve conditions for the entire area, building roads, canals, and even putting in lighting in some places. What you don’t see are a lot of schools. But that’s understandable: many of these villages just don’t have enough children in them—they’re all in the city.

This type of solidarity is something that has all but disappeared in urban Morocco. Places like Casablanca tend to be a dog eat dog world where people usually don’t even trust their neighbors. You care about your family and circle of friends—and that’s about it. If anybody goes around collecting money for this or that, you automatically suspect that it might be a scam. Bosses and employees don’t trust each other… landlords and tenants don’t trust each other. Neighbors don't trust each other. There’s very little of that feeling that we’ve all got to work together for the common good, as the Traveler has seen in regions like Tafraoute… as well as other areas, like the isolated village of Icht. It seems that Moroccan culture works best in small communities where everybody knows everybody. In cities, that fabric of society starts to fall apart. But it does seem that cities are the future of the country… as that’s where the money is.

The Valley the Traveler Passes Up

He continues on downhill until… you guessed it… another Valley Civilization begins, with multiple villages, stretching on for who knows how long. Only problem…he hits a Y in the road, the right taking him down to the valley… left up the mountain again, towards Tafraoute. Damn… that valley looks very tempting… and if I don’t explore it now, possibly I never will, he tells himself. But he really doesn’t want to be stuck out in the middle of nowhere tonight, and he suspects it’ll be a long time before he finds another turn off towards Tafraoute. So he reluctantly takes the left road, wistfully gazing down at the Valley I May Never Know.

The Tafraoute road climbs, high, high up the mountain yet again, until he's at a dizzying height above the south end of this valley, with its terraces climbing for hundreds and hundreds of meters up the mountainside… Just looking at them makes the Traveler wince, thinking of the enormous amount of work it took to create them—and how tiring it must be to climb up an down them to tend to the crops. He can’t tell for sure if their all being cultivated. He sees stuff growing on them that could be wheat or just grass.

Finally he reaches a mountain pass, with yet another valley on the other side. Here he pauses under a shady tree for a snack and a pleasant little concert. Yesterday felt like winter and today feels like summer, since he's out in the sun now. But high in the mountains there are still clouds, so he suspects it’s probably pretty cold up there. It’s a surreal feeling to hike through different climate zones all in one day... In Igherm he meets a cheerful old lady who tells him the name of the village, and he finds a shop where he can buy water. Looks like he's not going to suffer hunger, thirst, and exposure like he did yesterday.

In Igherm there are the same typical big summer homes clustered together on the hillside. It looks like there’s another village higher up… no thanks. The Traveler has done enough walking up in the clouds

Around the bend he comes across a dirt path with a sign that says “Tanalt”. Damn. I’ll be that was my shortcut, he grumbles to himself. He suspects that he's done a huge loop so far today. No big deal—the scenery has been interesting and as long as he makes it to Tafraoute today, there’s no big hurry.

Around another bend is a village perched on the steep hillside. Foughalt, despite the uneven terrain, actually looks like a market village where a market is held once a week. There are a line of closed up shops leading down to the main mosque. Not much going on here during the noon hours, so he continues on.

A Super-shortcut

Beyond Foughalt is yet another series of switchbacks. As the Traveler gazes up looking for a shortcut, a helpful fellow on a donkey points him in the right direction. Soon he's at a top of another ridge where there are some giant boulders. He goes around them just to see if he can get a better view of the valley, and there he finds some cool houses nestled right against the side of the rock. There’ nobody around that he can ask, so he crosses his fingers, hoping he'll meet someone down the road who can tell him its name. Later he finds it on Google Maps: Tililan.

The road continues along the side of the mountain, with high cliffs to his left and a steep drop to his right. It’s not long before he reaches yet another village, and once again no one around to ask what its name is. Then, suddenly, an amazing view. Opening up before him is a steep slope that it seems goes on forever… until it reaches a a green open plain… then another mountain and then… what is that?

Blue rocks? Could it be? Are those the giant painted boulder on the other side of Tafraoute?! That’s got to be like 30 kilometers away—and across two mountain ranges! Well apparently painting the rocks blue did serve a purpose after all: to give point of reference for travelers who are far, far away.

But the Traveler is still confused. He was expecting to reconnect with the Ait Baha-Tafraoute highway which is supposed to be like 35 kilometers to the east. It seems that he's coming out of the mountains from a totally different angle! Dang! I really did have no idea where I was going! He realizes.

But boy is he glad to see familiar territory once again. It’s been great to be hiking for two day with no idea where he is—but is glad that it’s over now. The only problem is, the road heads west—far, far away from the direction he wants to go. He thinks there’s got to be a super-short cut straight down the mountain though…

Finally he spots a man up ahead. “Is there a shortcut this way to get to Tafraoute?” the man says yes, and points the Traveler to a clearly visible rocky path.

“And what’s the name of this village?” the Traveler asks

The man looks at him suspiciously “why do you want to know?”

“I’m just passing through and want to know where I am”

He refuses to answer. The Traveler's never had this happen before. The Traveler tries to insist. “I’m not from here either… I don’t know” Is the man's lame excuse. The Traveler guesses he’s just suspicious of outsiders nosying around his village. Who cares… Everybody else has been plenty friendly along the way.

The Traveler spots a sign up ahead. “Oh that might be the name” he tells them man. Sure enough. The village is called Taghmout. He walks back giving the man a sly grin that says “nanananana, I know the name of your village!”

Now let’s follow the super-shortcut down to civilization.

Down to the Ameln Valley

The trail down the mountain it seems is designed for donkeys, very rocky, but safe. The Traveler even takes “shortcuts to the shortcut” cutting across the switchbacks. Soon terraces start to appear… the he reaches his first palm tree… then… water… almost there… He's very eager to get back to the comforts of the modern world: public transportation… hotels… restaurants… well stocked shops… wow, didn’t think 2 two day could make him miss them so much. And he's glad he won’t be climbing any more mountains today!

He reaches the bottom of a narrow valley where there a couple people relaxing by the stream. Up the slopes to the east are a couple tourists on ATVs, taking another road up the slopes. He must say, it makes him feel more proud of himself: He conquered the mountains of Tafraoute… on foot.

The Traveler is almost certain he's entering the Ameln Valley, the long fertile, flat stretch of plains running east to west, north of Tafroute. This means he's not too far, so he can take his time exploring villages along the way. Soon he reaches my first one, Ait Talb, which is actually several clusters of homes that he chooses to count as one village. The first thing that strikes him here is the thought, “these people are so damn lucky”… gazing out at their flat, fertile farmland. What an easy life they’ve got, compared to the terrace farmers high above them!

He continues towards the east, with mountains to his left and valley to his right. Soon he reaches another village, Amanr, with some gigantic homes—which most likely sit empty for most of the year.

Following a footpath through the shady oasis, he finds a log to sit on to play his set. A group of ladies come and stand behind him, talking. He looks behind and realizes that they’re going to harvest some trees right near him, but are probably uncomfortable working with a strange man so close by… so he moves on and find another spot. Here there may be some men who leave their wives and children behind and go work in the city, so he’d best be prudent. He notices here there are some women who seem very traditional and shy, covering their faces when he approaches… Other women are clearly hiding modern attire beneath the typical black dress. They are clearly Tafraoute women who live in the city, used to city life and probably only wear the traditional dress when in the village, out of respect.

Back to Civilization

The Traveler figures Anamr must be his last village of the day, and he takes some time to just chill out and watch the sun set over the valley as he basks in his accomplishment. But around the bend is yet another village of Tamaloukt with some cool rock pillars in front. Unfortunately it’s too dark now to take any good photos.

He clambers around until he finds a way up to Tamaloukt, a sizeable village with more hustle and bustle than he's seen all day, with folks coming home from work and school. Nice to see people for a change. Finally the village ends, and he sits on a pile of rocks for one last concert of the day before heading down to the highway. It’s actually still a couple of kilometres before he finally reaches Ameln and...

There is lodging and the Traveler feels he doesn't feel like taking a step further. It’s still another 5 kilometers to Tafraoute, and it looks like all public transportation has dried up for the day. There is a big fancy riad hotel by the highway—he knows it’s out of his price range, but checks it out anyways. It’s full… he tries hitchhiking… no luck. Part of him just wants to find a quiet spot somewhere and camp out for the night. The weather’s much warmer here, and he doesn’t think there’s much danger of wild boars here. But finally he decides to just hoof those last 5 kilometers, get some supper and sleep in a decent bed.

He trudges… reaches Tafraoute, check in to the first hotel he finds… gets himself a delicious meat and peas tagine… and calls it a night. It's been another amazing day exploring the mountains and villages of Tafraoute.

Day 3: Morocco’s Rock Wonderland

12.5 kms, February 1, 2008

Today his tour of Tafraoute is going to be a different: he's going to be joined by a friend, Youssef, a Moroccan from Agadir has never been here before. So the Traveler is going to have chance to share this new experience with someone.

Youssef and the Traveler immediately set out to explore, climb and clamber about. The head south through the gorge to Aguerd, looking for little side hikes to explore. The Traveler notices that that there are women who still carry jugs of water from the wells up the steep hills, suggesting that not everyone is prosperous here.
They reach Aguerd Oudad and wander around the town. Youssef is fully enjoying the experience, and the Traveler is enjoying seeing a Moroccan enjoy his own country. Many young Moroccan men are so set on moving abroad they have little interest in enjoying the beauty of their own land.

They head back to Tafraoute, stopping at a cheap restaurant where they order beans and cow brains. Youssef's mother is a great cook—and still he says it's the best beans and brains he's ever had!

Afterwards the Traveler suggests they do something that's new for both of them. "Let's climb a mountain" he says.

They pick an interesting looking peak to the west of town and start the ascent. The climb is a little bit of a challenge--but mainly just fun. The boulders are very rough, allowing you to get a good grip--but likewise pretty nasty if you fall! Along the way they have to crawl under a massive boulder lodged in a crevice... climb through a cave and out a hole on the other side... and finally to the peak...

The Traveler figures they have the right to name the mountain. He decides to to call it "Jbel Kamanja" or "Banjo Mountain". They may not have been the first people to climb it, but most likely the first to climb it carrying a guitar... Well, actually, he has to ditch the guitar halfway--the climbing is too rough...

Far away they see the famous “Lion Face” a stunning natural carving in the mountain that, from a distance, does look like a lions face.

And so, the Traveler's first day of exploring beautiful Tafraoute comes to a close.

Day 4: Napoleon's Hat

27 kms, Feb 26, 2013

The Traveler feels that he can't leave a single valley around Tafraoute unexplored. There's just so much to discover here. So today he heads south of the town, through a narrow gorge to yet another world of discovery. The centerpiece here is a majestic butte, called “Napoleon’s Hat” which looks like someone neatly stacked these massive squarish boulders on top of each other that fit together perfectly… and right beneath it is the village of Aguerd.

Here again, many of the houses are quite fancy, some almost looking like little palaces, and the Traveler enjoys a pleasant walk around.

He doubts that he’ll be able to climb Napoleon’s Hat, but he knows he should at least take a closer look. He follows a path up, and is surprised to find, perched halfway up this nearly vertical rock tower, rock walls which look like unused goat pens. It’s like a cliff castle—for goats! He figures, before folks started emigrating to the cities, herding goats was about the only livelihood, so keeping goats away from bandits and who knows what else was of top priority.

He works his way around an enormous boulder, below a sheer drop… suddenly his danger sense starts tingling and he remembers his near disaster clambering on cliffs elsewhere in the world. He decides he's not going to try to climb up this route. He might be able to… but it just feels to dangerous.

He decides to climb down and try his luck on the other side. Here he's greeted with a panoramic view with buttes, rock formations and giant boulders for as far as the eye can see. Once again he feels the danger sense tingling a decides to climb no further, but he does go ahead and pause for an magical concert to dedicated to the majestic rocks of Aguerd Oudad.

The Painted Rocks

The Traveler figures he should continue south, and just soak in this area for a while, then loop around back to the town. Today he has no concern at all concern for covering distance or getting from point A to B. Today is just a day to clamber about at his leisure and soak it all in. He crosses a dry valley to another cluster of rocks with a giant boulder perched on another like a giant head. Mr Rock Head deserves to be in the backdrop of another video clip. It almost feels like nature has a sense of humor, balancing rocks on top of each other like this in such a seemingly impossible way…

Then on along the side of the hill to another boulder perched on its side, like an arrow in the ground… and some other boulders neatly stacked like a giant table… further ahead is a HUGE oval boulder, maybe 20 meters high and 50 long, sliced up like a loaf of bread. This place is quickly rising to the top of his Favorite Rock Formation Places in the World. And here, there's a very inspiring culture that goes along with the discovery.

On past another butte which looks like a bunch of giant rocks squeezed together like an enormous sandwich, the Traveler ponders on the timelessness of this region. Here people have come and people will go, but these rocks remain, unchanged… untouched. It’s a humbling thought. But then he spots something unusual: unnatural pastel colors. Yep, sure enough, somebody’s painted some of these giant boulders. OK, so much for the “untouched” part. At first he thinks it must be some tourist wanting to leave his mark—surely know local would waste all that paint on a rock! Or could it be some misguided government project thinking that rocks painted blue will draw more tourists than rocks in their natural state?

The Traveler has mixed feelings. He must begrudgingly admit that it is kind of cool to see some extra color… but on the other hand, it seems pretty corny to think you can “improve” on the amazing artwork of nature. Oh well… at least in a hundred years the paint will all be washed off and this area will once again be what it’s always been, an canvass for the artwork of nature and nature alone... And, as he learned yesterday, these painted rocks do serve as a useful reference point up in the mountains—as they can be seen miles and miles away...

There are a couple of tourists here, some young folks clambering around, and even a camping car parked in the middle of nowhere, with a temporary fence around it and a dude sitting out in a lawn chair as if this were his territory… No problem… seeing other foreigners completely at ease is a reminder of how safe this region is. No need to be looking over his shoulder here, or profiling every person who approaches him.

And then the geological wonders start to fade, and it starts to look like ordinary desert again. The Traveler figures he'll just go a little farther—maybe around the next hill just so he can reach a good stopping point. But once he reaches the other side, he finds himself gazing out on a wide, arid plain, with 1, 2, 3… maybe 4 or 5 villages scattered about. Oh what the hell—might as well explore this area some more... and then head back to Tafraoute for the night.

So he continues on across the flat, rocky terrain. Pretty much worthless for agriculture, and no sign of water anywhere… what’s the raison d’etre for these villages? Looks like this was a damn tough place to make a living back before folks here switched to commerce in the cities as their source of income.

He finally reaches the first town, Tighrart where, as expected, he finds mainly nice new houses, and the old, traditional village which is nothing but ruins. It seems prosperity can have its downsides: no need to preserve the quaint traditional village house when you can afford to build a modern walled in villa. But this village has something else: a playground—and an honest to goodness ferris wheel! No, it’s not a government or charity sponsored project. It looks like this was a local project—with a unique design: the seats of the ferris wheel are actually recycled steel drums cut out in the front!

Not sure if this design would pass safety inspection—but it is heartwarming to see people make a special effort to make a place for their kids to have fun. Typically people here spend their extra money on 3 things: big houses and mosques… but here in Tighrart they built a ferris wheel—something you’ll be hard pressed to find even in the big cities!

A couple of respectable, middle aged fellows are chatting in front of a house, they greet the Traveler, asking if he needs anything. His response “I’m just walking around, enjoying the nature”, brings a smile to their faces. It feels really good to be somewhere where people are used to seeing foreigners wandering around—but at the same time folks aren’t looking at you with dollar signs… they’re just glad you're enjoying their region.

He continues on south to the next town, Ait Daoud. Beyond it is another high cliff… no… not going there… the Traveler knows he's got to know when to stop and turn around. Here, once again he finds people very friendly, helpful and eager to chat. Luckily he finds a store that’s open so he can get some water. He foolishly didn’t bother to buy water in Aguerd, and he's been suffering ever since. The Berbers of this region have a reputation for being strongly opposed to intermarriage with outsiders—but they certainly don’t seem opposed to people visiting their land—and speaking to them in Arabic brings a smile, not a frown.

It’s time for me to start heading back. The Traveler is told that it’s a 14 kilometer stretch back, so he needs to start moving. Up in the hills there are some houses, a mosque and green terraces on the steep slopes—tempting him to go for a closer look, but he decides against it. But he does take a few minute to wander around the next town down the road Douzderm, which still has a little bit of traditional architecture still standing.

Singing to the Goats

As dusk approaches, the Traveler once again enters the Rock Wonderland, and he gets off the highway to clamber around on the rock formations. Here the magical moments continue: Sitting on a hill with four giant rock pillars around him as if on a giant throne, with the sun setting in the background… Squeezing through the cracks of giant boulders split in two… and finally, sitting down to play his set, with geological beauty all around, as a herd of goats passes by, being driven to their pens for the night. The herdsman pauses for a little chat—just to be friendly, nothing more…

And finally his beautiful day comes to an end. He passes through one more village of Awsift in the darkness, then past Aguerd once more, and through the canyon to Tafraoute.

The Last House on the Cliffside

The Traveler has two priorities once he reaches Tafraoute: First, to find something to eat before the restaurants shut down, and second to find a place to stay. He does find a grimy little back alley place that still has some chicken and vegetables left over. I know he's pushing his luck here—who knows how long this food has been sitting out… but it seems to settle OK.

Lodging is a bit more of a problem. All the cheap hotels—and even some of the mid-priced ones are booked. It seems like here he's got competition from other budget conscious travelers. Fortunately there are no hustlers stalking as he wanders from hotel to hotel, just helpful people pointing him in the right direction. Finally he heads to a dairy shop for a raib yoghurt, figuring he’ll just have to settle for a 15 euro hotel rather than his typical 5 euro one.

Then a fellow approaches and tells the Traveler he has a house out in the Ameln Oasis just 8 kilometer away where the Traveler can stay for 10 euros a night. The Traveler does some quick thinking… that’s cheaper than what he may end up paying if he stays here in town—and it would be kind of cool to stay in an traditional house in an oasis rather than in town—even though it’s more of a touristy thing… and he was planning to head that direction tomorrow anyways. So he hops in the SUV and they head north for a couple of kms… then off a a side road for a short ways towards the mountains. Then the man parks his car and they follow a path to the old kasbah.

The house is actually the only one left in the old village—all the others are ruins. The man tells the Traveler that he bought it and restored it—which sounds a little strange, because he’s from El Jadida, and the Traveler had the impression that folks from Tafraoute wouldn’t sell their homes to Moroccan outsiders.

“You need connections with people to buy a house here” he tells the Traveler. He actually lived in France for a number of years and is married to a French woman—but now prefers the peaceful life of Tafraoute over city life. He’s done quite a good job restoring the house, giving it a really earthy traditional feel—but with a clean, modern bathroom! You enter the room at the top level where there’s a rooftop where you can gaze out over the valley, then downstairs is the main floor, then down another stairs is a couple of windowless rooms where people used to sit to escape the heat in the summer… then through a sqeeze-through entry is yet another set of stairs deep into the bowels of the mountain where animals and provisions were kept. Quite a fascinating glimpse into life in Tafraoute, how it used to be.

They chat a little while over tea, along with two fellows that are doing the finishing touches on restoration. The Traveler enjoys this sort of “semi-hospitality” where he can stay in a home and discover the culture—and not feel like he's freeloading and taking advantage of people… or being taken advantage of. This experience is definitely worth the 10 euros, and more.

Then the Traveler heads up to the roof with his guitar with a vast fertile valley in front and steep rugged mountains right behind me. Total silence. He feels a bit self conscious knowing that everybody, not only in this village, but in neighboring villages as well are going to hear me… hope they don’t mind the evening serenade.

It’s one of those unforgettable musical moments, belting out some of his favorite tunes, hearing them echoed across the Amend Valley. Perhaps the first time that he's played a concert for several villages—at the same time!

Day 5: Daring to Scale the Boulders

12.3 kms, February 27, 2013,

Next morning the Traveler heads back up to the roof for an even more breathtaking view. Lush green down below. Jagged cliffs just a few feet behind him that disappear into the mist. Villages dotting the oasis as far as the eyes can see. Wow. Yesterday he had the impression that Tafraoute region is just an inhospitable, dry rockland—but in this area here, it looks like you could live off the land comfortably—and still enjoy giant boulders and rugged mountain landscapes. He bids his host farewell, and sets out, eager for discovery. Today, again, the Traveler doesn't have any clear destination, other than to reach Tafraoute by early afternoon, so he's just going to wander around and soak in this place.

There's a footpath to the west toward a mysterious looking gorge—a huge gash in the side of the mountain. There it seems there’s a path heading up it, and a long hose coming down from above—so there must be something up there. The path takes the Traveler up through cracks tunneling under gigantic boulders and then… an arrow pointing up the side of a boulder which he guess guesses he's expected to climb.

These are not like the rough surface boulders south of Tafraoute, these boulders are smooth from millenniums of water erosion and not very easy to climb. He first tries climbing up a tree branch, but it won’t hold his weight. There are some toeholds in the boulder which it seems clear other people have used, but he's not too sure.

It’s a little embarrassing to realize that he may not be able to climb a boulder that clearly other people can climb. He's pretty sure he can get to the top, but there, if he can’t get a good grip, he's going to end up sliding down the face of the boulder to the bottom… probably without injury, but not a pleasant idea nonetheless. Getting down shouldn’t be a problem, there’s a tree branch he can grab a swing down like Tarzan…

Finally he decides he's got to give it it a try it. He decides to abandon his backpack and give it a shot… gripping tenaciously at the slick rock surface… and makes it up. Good feeling. Almost makes up for not making it to the top of Napoleon’s Hat yesterday. He's stunned by what he sees: palm trees and a plot of cultivated land! His first thought is: this would be the perfect place to grow something illegal! Nobody’s going to discover it here. His guess though is that there’s an easier route to get up here, He just can’t imagine farmers hauling their gear and harvest down the face of a slick boulder.

Here the gorge opens up and there’s a steep, easily climbable flat slope. He's not really sure what his objective is—as reaching the top of the mountain is probably out of the question, but he decides to keep climbing as long as the going is good. He reaches a lookout point where there’s a low wall, as if for a sheep pen, and a great view of the valley below. This seems like a great place to hide away during times of war.

On up the slope, the Traveler now has a mountain to his left and his right. He follows this semi valley until it flattens… then goes down again… right back into the Amenad valley. This side looks much easier to climb—but he's still glad I took on the challenge and made it up the hard way. Unfortunately he has to go back the way he came, as he abandoned his guitar and backpack halfway up. A great spot for a video clip with his guitar… He'll have to settle for taking a picture of himself doing an “air guitar” pose this time.

Learning more of the Tafraoute Region

Back down the gorge, The Traveler goes first to check out a village immediately to his left, right across from Tazgatoudm where he stayed last night. Here there are a number of nicely restored old houses in the kasbah—including one that the Traveler is told was sold to a retired European couple which they restored and use as their winter home. He also notices a distinct design that he's never seen anywhere else in Morocco: a checkered pattern on the walls with square blocks alternating with some sort of straw or something that lets air through—and the traditional oriental near-circle above it. Here there are a mixture of traditional restored houses, ruins, and big modern homes.

As he leaves this village of Tazoult, a couple locals heading the same direction join him, one of them seem eager for a chat. Here’s the Traveler's chance to learn a bit about the secrets of this region. He tells the man of his stay in Casablanca.

“Most folks from this village live in Casa” the man points to a large, walled in villa “this guy has a toy store… this other guy owns a shop in Derb Omar… Just about everybody here has a business in the city—and we come here just on vacation.”

“Does anybody live here year round?”

“Just a couple poor people.”

This is different from what the Traveler has usually seen in rural areas of Morocco. Usually the man goes and works in the city, leaving the wife and children behind. They do it for economic reasons and because they want their children to have a clean upbringing, holding onto the traditions and not corrupted by the vices of the city. But here the entire family has gone to the city… which leads to the question: will their children still hold to their traditional culture and values? What about their grandchildren? Will they continue to come out here every summer to spend their vacation in their ancestral homeland?

People from this region are known to be strongly against letting their children marry anyone from outside the region, and now the Traveler can see why. See, if both parents are from Tafraoute, then of course the family will remain attached to their region. But if say a Tafraoute man marries an non-Tafraoute woman, chances are she’s not going to be to excited about dragging the family out to the rocky desert to spend the scorching summer months here. And if they don’t do that, their children will lose the connection with their true home.

And why is being connected to your land important? The Traveler ponders on this as he walks along. Here are his thoughts.

See, someday cities are going to fall apart. There will be riots, chaos—wars between people of different ethnicities, values and religions. The idea that cities are going to be places of endless prosperity is simply false. Hard times will come again. When things do fall apart, folks who still have a connection to rugged isolated region like Tafraoute will be able to go back there and be at peace—maybe even go back to living off the land again. Folks without that connection may not have anywhere to go. It’s all about having a place where you can go back to where life can go on as it has for thousands of years. In this modern day most folks don’t really value that… but someday a person who has nothing more than a house and a plot of land he can cultivate high in the mountains will be considered very fortunate.

So the Traveler has mixed feelings seeing how people from Tafraoute have prospered. They deserve it: for centuries they’ve toiled trying to grown crops in these rocky hills with just little trickles of water, cutting terraces out of the mountainsides. Now they’ve learned to prosper in urban environments, not because they had good connections or inherited wealth and power from their parents, but simply by using shrewd business sense. This is a true Moroccan “success story” if there ever was one, proving wrong the idea that if you’re poor here, you and your descendants will always be poor.

On the other hand, it’s a little sad to see so many traditional homes abandoned and big, boxy cinderblock houses built in their stead. But then again, if people that’s what people prefer, they have the right to build whatever kind of houses they like. Also, he kind of wonders if they really will be able to hold onto their roots for the next 50, 100 years, or if their grandchildren and great-grandchildren will simply be city folks, with just vague memories of the land of their origins…

Later the Traveler gets to talking with some Tafraoute native who give him some more interesting nuggets of information. For one thing, he's told, some of these people are actually not Berbers in origin. Some of them were Arabs who came from Rissani area some 500 years ago—but melted in with the population and are now considered Berbers. It's fascinating to learn more and more how ethnic identity and cultural identities can shift and switch over the centuries. Saharawi people, the Traveler learned identify themselves as “Arabs” by language and culture, but their ethnicity is predominantly Berber. Folks in Tafraoute identify as Berbers and speak Berber... but they are actually part Arab...

The Traveler learns that, just in the last 10 years, the strong attitude against marrying folks from outside the region has changed. Now it’s common for them to marry outsiders. In fact, it’s even become common for folks from Fes (who are also quite ethnocentric) to marry with Tafraoute folks. The Traveler is told that these marriages between these two business centered cultures could be to out of convenience—to consolidate their commercial interests...

The Traveler is eager to learn more about this intriguing culture which seems so connected with the past—and yet is changing so rapidly.

The Traveler continues wandering around a bit more... heading back to Tazgatoudm, where he stayed the night, to explore it a bit more. He reaches the modern part of the town with it’s standard big, modern houses, a mosque and a few shops, then opts to dive into the oasis, following little shady paths alongside the canals to the next village.

Here there are just a scattering of large summer homes without a person in sight, so he decides not to even count it as a town. He heads down towards the Tafraoute-Ait Baha highway where he does find what should definitely count as a town: Amaln proper, where there’s a strip of shops (mostly closed), a town hall, and even a little plaza with a couple of park benches. It seems all recently built, apparently a sort of “hub” for the surrounding villages. The Traveler grabs a yoghurt and some buscuits and heads on his way.

He follows the road to Tafraoute, gazing back a the beautiful view: a long valley stretching out to the east and west, dotted with villages that beckon to him… in stark contrast with the sheer cliffs and mountains behind still partly enshrouded in mist.

Now he must continue on, following a narrow valley where soon the cool rock formations start to appear, some of them covered with graffiti—probably those uncivilized, disrespectful city folk that come and tarnish this otherwise pristine region.

He reaches Tafraoute yet again... and calls it a day.

Day 6: Concluding the Tafraoute Hike

18.6 kms, March 21, 2013

Tafraoute seems like quintessential Morocco, with the earthy colored homes, little garden plots and winding alleys and trails from one cluster of homes to the next. But it's also very different. There's no trash scattered anywhere. A lot of the houses are very large and upscale, giving this area a feel of prosperity. And something else he hasn't see, well... since Europe: each family has a large plastic trash bin that they wheel out to the road for pickup.

The Traveler never thought he'd be so excited to see a trash can. Why? Well, first of all, this means no trash being dumped by a river or on a mountainside, spoiling the landscape. But it also means something else: this region has something that is almost unheard of in rural Africa: its own trash collection service.

Does the government for some reason care more about this region than the rest of the country? The Traveler highly doubts it. His suspicions are later confirmed: here the people THEMSELVES collectively hire a trash collection service.

And they do much more. He will later notice that even the roads going to the the most isolated hamlets, winding high up the mountainside are paved. Again... not by the government. They people themselves gather the funds to have these roads paved.

There's definitely something very different going on here in Tafraoute Region. And the Traveler knows he needs to find out. There could be some very valuable lessons here not just for the rest of Morocco... but for all of Africa.

As he stops in shop to grab some snacks to hold him over until reaching Tafraoute proper, a couple of children run in. One of them, maybe 5 years old, looks too blond to be a local. He keeps staring at the Traveler “Spreiken Deuich?” he asks. No, don’t speak German the Traveler tells him. A bystander explains: the boy is the son of a Moroccan father and German mother that live here in this village. And quite frankly, the Traveler thinks that German woman does not regret in the slightest her choice...

Here in this town is the classic postcard image associated with Tafraoute: a reddish brown mosque and some houses dwarfed by some gigantic boulders right behind it—making them almost look like toy houses. Fortunately the Traveler can find a boulder to climb up on to get a good photo and video clip of it himself.

Every bend is some cool new discovery… a boulder right in the middle of the village with a stone wall at the top… no visible way to get up there… a path to another part of the village, where you have to squeeze under two boulders to get there… And finally, the climax. A gigantic sort of lion’s head shaped rock gazing straight ahead, as if guarding Tafraoute proper which is in the background. There’s a tourist standing next to it when the Traveler takes his picture which he doesn't mind—that helps give perspective to how enormous the rock is.

The fellow, an older German guy seems quite eager to chat. He’s been coming to Morocco since the 80s, spending long periods here and has plenty to say about the region and the country.

He talks about how people were much more open back then. Back then it was easy to talk to women and they didn’t dress so conservatively as they do now—which the Traveler finds surprising to hear. He talks about how Morocco has become much more dangerous than before… how towns like Tafraoute, which was once just an isolated village, is getting overbuilt.

But his biggest complaint is about the tourists—particularly the camper car tourists that come to Morocco in droves these days. “It was better back in the hippy days” he says. “back then it was simple folks in simple clothes coming to connect with the local people. Now it’s just rich people in expensive campers, driving around with no interest or respect for the local customs. Giving nothing back—people don’t like them here”.

The rock formations continue, and the Traveler doesn't get tired of the magic of this region. Starting with a some rocks stacked on top of each other in the shape of a reclined head, with a big nose poking upwards. The Traveler slows down to explore, clambering up the mountainside for a better view. After weeks of predictable landscape, he really wants to enjoy this new experience. He climbs about, soaking in the beautiful, the surprising and the bizarre rock formations that leave you scratching your head and wondering… how in the world did they get shaped that way? There’s the gnome face…the pillars pointing to the sky… the three giant knobs that look completely different whichever angle you look at them. Then he goes around the bend… and lo and behold… in front of him is Mr Penguin from Batman on the side of the cliff. But he isn't gazing down on Gotham City. Instead he's gazing down on the charming village of Aday, with beautiful traditional homes and a earch colored mosque blending in with the landscape.

The Traveler decides to climb a little higher and is surprised to find a sort of flat area with some grass and a couple of rocky streambeds—even with a trickle of water coming through. He's tempted to continue exploring uphill, but decides he needs to stick to the plan and continue towards Tafraoute.

Now Aday is below him—and a sheer drop down. He's literally walking along the face of an enormous boulder—quite steep. You get good traction, but he realizes he shouldn’t take that for granted. He decide he’d better start looking for a way down. It takes a little while, climbing over under and around the boulders that have fallen down the cliffside and gotten stuck on the way. He wonders what it must feel like to live right under these boulders, knowing that someday one of them is going to come crashing down and smash your home. But he supposes, when you live an entire lifetime without ever seeing this happen, you don’t think about that danger any more. These rocks just become part of your family.

He reaches Boutabi. Here he sees the typical simple village homes... but also some larger recently built ones. Again, he knows money for building these houses didn't just come from herding goats...

The Traveler continues up the Tafraoute Valley, which quickly narrows, with steep rocky slopes on both sides. The Traveler spots herds of goats grazing on the mountainsides. Tahala seems like a good finishing point, at the far end of the Tafraoute valley. Here he finds a sizeable market town in a large flat area where the Amend Valley and the Tafraoute Valley come together.

Here, the Traveler bids the beautiful Tafraoute Region farewell.