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| Indiana Carruthers or Baden Powell Carruthers , Lady T & Beni! |
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| Beni preferred the river/ mud |
Monday, 27 June 2011
Fort Beu-Jerfi
We recently stayed at a delightful campsite called Fort Beu-Jerif near Guelmim (just north of Western Sahara). It is built very close to a real old fort - a french foreign legion fort that was in use until 1924. Fascinating!
Hot and Tyred
Tuesday 21st June 2011 – A cool breeze…. Is a delightful thing to wake up to... back tracking slightly….we drove through Tata after receiving some wonderful advice as to the best desert tracks to take... not South as apparently the Moroccan army was massing to take on Algeria, but a little further West to Foum El Hisn and then through to Assa, a small town where in the past the caravans from the desert stopped for refreshments. However a few miles from our turning there was funny noise and bits of black rubber were suddenly flying through the air… we had blown a trailer tire. Even in the 45-degree heat we changed it in record time and were on our way. This did mean however, that driving on-piste away from civilisation was not very sensible for us to consider… if we blew another tire we could be stuck for days. Disastrous for the cocktail making! So we kept to the main road and drove on… and on… all the way to the coast… where it was actually rather chilly! I did not think I would ever need a pullover again!
Like true campers we found another delightful spot next to many many sand dunes and the cool Atlantic ocean. We also met a charming young fellow who delivered us fresh fish each evening for tea. Marvellous.
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| Another successful BBQ in the Sahar.... mmm Orangutan |
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| pre-breakdown... |
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| 5700 miles to the nearest Kwikfit.... and Beni Mellal (the dog) knows what to do in an emergency! |
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| a camping delight... |
Gone Troppo!
Wednesday 15th June 201 - Having finally departed Marrakech for the final time, we motored to Rabat. At the invitation of the Mauritanian Ambassador (he could very well have been the parking attendant) we set up home kerbside outside the visa office. 36 hours later with a stamp in the passport, we headed south over the Atlas.
We were enthusiastic about leaving the wind and rain of the past few weeks in Marrakech behind, and finally getting some sunshine. Be careful what you wish you for however, as we motored down the mountain into an unyielding wall of 45-degree heat with not a whisper of wind. Too hot to do anything by day, too hot to sleep at night… with no ice for the gin… Carruthers has gone troppo! Not a pretty sight.
Fortunately we happened upon our own personal oasis complete with salt-water cascade just north of Tissint. We set up camp to stay for 2 nights in what would normally be an idyllic campsite. However, with the sun hitting 45 degrees at 10am and not abating until gone 8pm… it’s rather hard to concentrate on the game of cards.
The following morning Carruthers awoke determined to drink cold coco-cola… so he set off to town on his bicycle. 2 hours later a dishevelled sweating ruin returned clutching an array of cold drinks. With the refrigerator gone to the dogs, we had been drinking hot water for the past 24 hours… Carruthers’ mission was well appreciated. Our faithful hound simply dug a hole and laid in it for 48 hours… clever chap!
Currently en route to Tata; the gateway to the Draa Valley…. We will see how long we can last before we flee to the coast.
Sunday, 5 June 2011
Cool Fresh Air
Now the African summer is rolling in, we decided to service the Rolls asthmatic air conditioning. On recommendation, we went to a large garage with a new fangled gadget, fully automatic and digital, and operated by the usual illiterate grease monkey. After 40 minutes of NASA grade testing and gas replacement, we enjoyed a full 30 seconds of cool air, before every electronic system in the car ceased functioning. On turning the engine off the car even refused to start again.
The following morning sweating heavily, as of course we had closed all the windows in eager anticipation of the cool sweat air…. We followed a young chap on his decrepit moped to Marrakech’s leading vehicle diagnostic centre (see photo) and packed with the latest diagnostic equipment (bearded gentlemen with a piece of wire with a pin at one end and a light bulb in the middle). He proceeded to dismantle parts of the engine and the entire electrical system of the car, testing circuit boards with his pin and wire. Carruthers’ was extremely doubtful of the chaps’ abilities, especially when he tasked two unwashed Herberts to dismantle the starter motor.
However, when a specialist turned up (14 years old) he discovered the cause in no time and between the two of them, they rebuilt the starter motor, bypassed various broken chips and repaired a circuit board. All in all, a 7-hour job including, of course the obligatory 1-hour visit to the mosque.
Now back to the schedule, however this time with cool fresh air blowing….
Friday, 3 June 2011
Top Secret!
Wednesday 1st June.
As we eventually move to sandier pastures, thought had better show you some photos of the production that had Carruthers tied up in knots for weeks on end. We’re not allowed to talk about it as its top secret, but here are a few photos to show where we’ve been… some dramatically varied landscapes… and even rather a lot of snow (thought we’d left that behind in Blighty). Unfortunately we were too busy to make any G&T’s let alone save ice for them. Note to self… never allow that to happen again!
If you want to see a trailer for the the top secret production… then its all over YouTube… funny that!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p5VhgE9s-XU&feature=related
Meanwhile, Carruthers is returning from Blighty today. He had to return for his parent’s birthday and tie up a few loose ends. Rather looking forward to his return… hoping to pack up and move on as son as we can. I am looking forward to seeing some desert sunsets forthwith! Gee up and onto the Western Sahara… just have to be mindful of the landmines.
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| Carruthers' "Cave of Wonder" on Bin El Oudene. Actually also the same spot where we rescued Beni, the dog |
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| Local version of ski hire.... each group of ski's is an individual shop! |
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| the Rolls in her element (or one of them) and bottom left the river that ran through my tent first thing in the morning. |
Thursday, 19 May 2011
A fist full of Euros
12th May 2011
Spent a pleasant day yesterday with the windows wound up and the doors locked. Bandit country in the eastern Riff Mountains is a 100Km stretch of the most appalling potholes and ‘rue deformer’ of anywhere in Morocco, lined with flash harry spiv types from the ages of 8 to 80 proffering bags of hashish. It became so ridiculous that every time we stopped at least 2 cars would screech to a halt and a clearly intoxicated Moroccan would instantly invite one to their farm…. which we thought very pleasant but politely declined. Wonder turned to surprise as the metaled road ran out at Bab Berreb and we arrived in a cloud-shrouded town full of the villainous looking men. We drove on as Curruthers wanted to visit Ketama, the heart of the Riff, due to some distant romantic seventies myth of it being a rather nice town…. but instead we found it to be a frontier bad land where even the children running from the school yard where waving hashish from their small grubby hands.
As the photos show, marijuana grows right up to the road and is in every field that the eye can see…. this is only one valley in a hundred in the Riff Mountains.
A non-stop 10-hour drive had us arriving at a beautiful lake 1 hour north of Fez just in time for the biggest electrical storm Carruthers and I have ever witnessed. We hunkered down in the Rolls drinking Rosé as ice cube size hailstones hammered down from the sky…. how convenient for the G&Ts! Carruthers was severely pelted as he protected the windscreen from any unsightly cracks. We spent the following 2hours witnessing an all-encompassing 360 degree lightning extravaganza fill the sky. How perfect!
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| all the green you see in the distance is hashish...... |
Beni-Mellal
8th May 2011
Work over, we have just ended a splendid week of camping, boating and cave exploration with Carruthers’ first born; Errol, aged 5. During which Carruthers, missing the hounds at the Hall, rescued a small but eminently faithful hound with potential… and many ticks. He has been named Beni Mellal after the nearby town where he was imprisoned. Rather fortunate for him, as since then we have passed by a town called Tit-Mellal. So far he appears grateful for deliverance and is guarding everything we own with great gusto.
Currently, we are fulfilling Carruthers’ desire for flesh of the swine, and are making a journey north to Tangier where we will briefly enship to Spain (sans Rolls & Beni… in essence a pork cruise). This excursion will also circumnavigate the minefield of Moroccan bureaucracy concerning visa extensions, and allow us longer time to enjoy this beautiful land.
While in the north of the country we will take in the sights of Chefchaouen, the famous blue town situated at the foothills of the Riff Mountains. It will be doubtful if Carruthers remembers much about this trip after he forays further into the Riff. Must sign off now, Carruthers’ is calling for his chota peg (G&T I believe).
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| Chefchouen - the famous blue town of the North |
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