Trekking on the Edge of the Desert

At Turin Caselle airport I make the acquaintance of the other two people from Turin in the group: Stefano and Loriana. We are supposed to meet the rest of the group in Rome, but fate wills that the adventure begins already before departure. While in Turin there is spring sunshine, it seems that at Fiumicino the airport remained closed all morning due to fog. The chaos created meant that our flight left two hours late and, consequently, we missed the connection with Casablanca. We are forced to spend the night in Rome. This will force us to travel the following night to reach the others, informed by phone of the mishap, in Zagora.

We land at Casablanca airport at 1 pm; since the flight to Ouarzazate leaves late in the evening, we have time for a visit to the Old Medina, we might as well look on the bright side of things! The old Medina of Casablanca is made up of a maze of narrow streets, squeezed between the sober and heavy 16th-century walls, where you can find just about anything. The contrast with the new city is astonishing. It is not prudent to go there at night, the place is dangerous and, besides, all the shops are closed. Shortly before midnight we land in Ouarzazate where a taxi, alerted by our companions, is waiting for us. We set off at once for Zagora, about 160 km away, where the rest of the group is waiting for us.

With a quick run we cross the Tizi n'Tinififft pass (1680 m) and, at 2:30 in the morning, we reach the others who are sleeping blissfully all together in a Berber tent; our misadventures have not disturbed their sleep; someone, hearing us arrive, wakes up but we put off the introductions until the next morning.

Unconcerned by the fact that the three poor Turinese went to bed at 3, at 7 the wake-up call is given. Finally the group is all together! After breakfast we set off in a minibus that is to take us to Faija, a remote spot at the gates of the Sahara 20 km from Zagora, together with the guide and the Berber attendants. At Faija the 6 dromedaries that will accompany us for the entire duration of the trekking are waiting for us. Once the food, water, tents, backpacks and whatever else is needed to survive 7 days in the desert have been loaded onto the dromedaries, we set off. We walk for about 20 km over completely flat terrain, close to a group of mountains, the Jebel Bami. We are at the gates of the desert, there are many water wells that make it possible to cultivate and irrigate the land; we walk among fields of wheat and vegetables.

Towards 6 pm we reach the base of the Jebel Bami and pitch the tents; to tell the truth I ask for hospitality from our Berber attendants who sleep in the large communal tent, since there is no lack of space because I should pitch my tent? We spend our first evening in the desert admiring a sky teeming with stars and drinking mint tea.

We set off at 9 for the second stage on a path that immediately climbs towards the Col de Fam, a pass in the Jebel Bami range, overcoming a difference in altitude of about 350 metres. From the pass you can admire the whole plain covered yesterday. The long but not steep descent on the other side of the pass leads us into a beautiful valley that recalls the American landscapes immortalised in western films. We follow the course of a semi-dry river surrounded by mountain formations where, given the landscape, it would not be surprising to see Indians appear. From a scenic point of view this stage is certainly more interesting than yesterday's, even though the heat is beginning to make itself felt; yesterday a lovely little breeze kept the temperature down.

After a refreshing footbath, taken in a pool of water encountered along the route, the march goes on endlessly, it seems it should never end. Finally we reach the place where we are to pitch the second camp. The valley is wide, surrounded by the usual Monument Valley-style heights; nearby there is another pool of water that has resisted the drought of the river. For the second time in the day one can savour the pleasure of a footbath and a general freshening up.

We set off through a phantasmagorical landscape made up of dark red and black rocks. We walk mainly following the bed of the "Stone River," the same one we followed yesterday. After half an hour of walking we stop at the edge of a beautiful little lake where it's possible to take a dip. The temperature rises and the sun beats down relentlessly on us. Today is going to be a scorching stage. After the lunch break the group sets off again without its captain who, thoroughly cooked, mounts the faithful dromedary Toumbou, who will have to put up with him for a stretch in the days to come too. The sun keeps hammering away without letup and the temperature stays around 40°, easing only after 6 p.m. In the distance we can make out the great dune of Chegaga, at whose foot we will pitch our third camp.

The landscape has changed drastically at the end of this stage: flat areas rich in vegetation alternate continuously with clusters of small dunes. Only the beauty of the place gives us the strength to push on and reach our destination around 7 p.m., when the sun has already set. In the silence and darkness of the evening three off-road vehicles, appearing suddenly, throw our camp into confusion: they had mistaken it for another group's and nearly knocked down Doris and Barbara's tent.

A very beautiful stage in its initial and final parts because we cross many dunes interspersed with flat areas, with vegetation that forms a magnificent contrast of colours with the sand; in the middle part we cross a great plain with parched ground and the walk is rather monotonous, though easier since walking on stones is less tiring than trudging through the sand.

We begin the walk with an up-and-down over small dunes that, as yesterday, are interspersed with green fields that make the landscape spectacular. After about 1 hour of walking we reach an area teeming with fossils, which we collect, weighing down the poor dromedaries. The sun is slightly dimmed, no longer relentless as in previous days; the temperature has dropped a little too, we're only at 35° now. Along the way we come across several female dromedaries with their young, which according to our guide Mohammed should be 6 or 7 months old. Near the area where we pitch camp there is a well with solar panels that generate enough energy to run the pumps to fill a large water tank. The illusion of being able to take a shower soon vanishes, the water comes out of a pipe no more than 50 centimetres off the ground, so just a quick wash, enough to get the dust off us. At 6 p.m.

the storm arrives suddenly: a sandstorm and rain. Luckily the storm's violence lasts only a short while, but it was enough to bring down the big communal white tent, trapping Dario and yours truly. The violence of nature and the tiredness were not enough to lower the group's morale, which remains high as always: after dinner, singing and celebrating in the communal tent that has been put back up. Unanimous wish: an ice-cold beer!

The little humidity caused by last night's rain evaporates and makes sweating increase. Fortunately the humidity evaporates quickly and, shortly after setting off, only the dry heat remains. We cross a vast area of dunes, not tall, but the continuous ups and downs are exhausting. At 11 the wind picks up again, raising the sand; the whole sixth stage will be marked by a sandstorm, not very violent but suffocating, with sand getting everywhere. Fortunately in a little over 4.30 hours we reach our destination and all throw ourselves inside the big Berber tent. We can't manage to pitch the tents, tonight we will all sleep together in the communal tent. The 4 Berber friends prefer not to disturb us and, after the evening songs, they withdraw to their kitchen tent. Young Mustafa sleeps outside, on the sand, under a mountain of blankets.

Today is the last day of the trek. We tackle the final stage in a violent sandstorm, walking with our heads down, determined to reach Lehodi, our final destination, in as little time as possible. A quick stop under an acacia at 13 for a fruit snack and then we're all on the move again. Once past the last dune, the sumptuous lodging-refuge that will host all of us for the evening and the night suddenly appears before us. That's right, tonight we won't pitch any tents but will be guests in a hut in the village of Lehodi. We're starting to smell civilization: a snowboard for dune descents, an empty beer bottle left behind....But the beer really does arrive, a villager offers to go and get it on his moped. We are just a few km from the paved road, reachable via a rough track. After more than two hours from his departure, he is back with 15 bottles of beer, along with bananas and fresh fruit.

So dinner, the last one in the desert, is pleasantly enlivened, not only by the fragrance of the food and the smiles of the diners, but also by the cool gurgle of the beer.

While waiting for the minibus, which is supposed to come and pick us up, some of us explore the surroundings and, in particular, climb the highest dune overlooking the village. From its top there is a wide view of the desert around us, and one would like to stay for hours in silence contemplating the beauty of the landscape. Unfortunately we have to go back down, the minibus is arriving. The time has come to say goodbye to young Mustafa, who returns all alone on foot to accompany the dromedaries. I don't want to repeat myself by describing the emotions I felt and already described at the beginning of these notes, I will only say that it was one of the most beautiful and certainly the most moving moments of the entire trip.

Once the minibus is loaded, we set off for Zagora, not without making a couple of stops to visit the villages of Tamegroute and Amazrou, both home to workshops where beautiful Berber handicrafts are made. A short stop in Zagora for lunch and then, in the early afternoon, after saying goodbye with sincere emotion to the other three Berber friends with the promise of keeping in touch by E-Mail, we set off in two taxis for Ouarzazate, where we arrive in the evening. We drive back along the Draa valley up to the pass beyond which lies the immense plain of Ouarzazate. We three from Turin, who had traveled it at night on the way there, can finally admire the beauty of this valley full of date palms, small villages and various plantations. The Hotel Royal in Ouarzazate was waiting for us, we take possession of our rooms and finally, even if taking turns, we can take a much-longed-for shower.

We conclude the day with the last dinner of our trip, eaten at the restaurant La Fibule. Tomorrow we return to Italy.

Wake-up at 4. At 4.45 the bus takes us to the airport where, with a domestic flight, we reach Casablanca. Here we say goodbye to our valiant captain Gianni, who is the first to leave us and reaches Milan with a direct flight. All the others say goodbye in Rome, where our paths divide: Milan, Turin, Palermo, Bologna. The goodbyes are not a farewell but a see-you-soon, we exchange the promise to meet again. Where? But of course in Val di Lanzo!!!!

Having to sum up our arduous and wonderful trek made in the silence of the Sahara in the company of our 4 Berber friends, a question arises spontaneously: was it worth making so much effort? I am convinced that everyone's answer is the same: YES.