Day 17: Afternoon - A walk to local villages

After an hour of sunbathing in the garden, we all head off for a walk with Said to the local villages. We are followed for about half a mile by a lovely little stray puppy who is yelping and whining - he has obviously lost his mother, but in Morocco there are so many strays that carry disease so we dare not touch him or allow him to get too close to us. A bus roars around the corner and we all hide our eyes as the dog criss crosses in front of it, not knowing where to go to avoid disaster - but fortunately avoid it he does. A man walking behind us starts to throw stones in the dog's direction - and the dog soon ambles off. Jaime and I feel sad, but we know that there is nothing we can do about the situation, the dog must fend for itself.

On our way

Marhaba (Welcome)

After a short while, we head off the road onto a track and walk past houses, donkeys, sheep and cows.They are obviously used to people passing this way as they take very little notice of us.

Prickly pear cacti

Along the sides of the roads are prickly pear cacti - often children will pick the fruit off these when ripe and sell them to passers by for refreshment.

A modern village

Disused mill

Mart, Said and Tom

Lovely scenery

Overtaken by a man on a donkey

One hour later we arrive in the traditional village of Azrou. Said informs us that Azrou means 'rock' or 'stone' and that is what this village is built on, hence the name. We climb above the village to look down on it, and are amazed at the way the small houses cling to the hillside - and equally amazed at the number of satellite dishes which have been installed in the village - Not everything is as antiquated as it looks! That sort of sums up Morocco - ancient and modern both vie with each other and compliment each other wherever you look - which only adds to the appeal of this country.

Looking down on the village of Azrou

Azrou

Jaime and I decide to take a rest, sitting on a rock near to the summit of the hill, whilst the men continue to the top. We are shattered by now - we thought this was going to be a short walk, but it has turned into a bit of a trek! Whilst we are sitting nattering, four men on donkeys pass by - we wonder at first what they are laughing at, but then realise how bizarre we must look to them, two white Europeans with sunburnt faces sitting on a rock half way up a mountain - quite alien to their way of life.

Tom and his mate, Said

Taking a rest

A rather muddy walk!

As we head back down the hill it occurs to us females that a loo break is in order - but where do you find a loo in the middle of the countryside in Morocco? Like an apparition before our eyes, we see a Women's Co-operative at the side of the road. We decide that whatever the cost of pressure selling it will be worth it for a wee! Once inside, we are very impressed by the work of the women here. There is a tree indigenous to the south-west of Morocco called the Argan tree and nuts grow on this tree which are used by women in such co-operatives as this to make a variety of products. The women show us how they take the husks off the argan nuts, then grind the nuts to produce a paste and then this paste is made into various products such as cooking oil, moisturisers, shampoo, soap etc and sold to both locals and tourists. It is a very interesting process which is explained to us in perfect English by a young Moroccan woman. We even get to try the grinding process ourselves - it is hard work! We taste the oil produced for cooking and a lovely dip called Amlou which is made of Argan oil, almonds and honey - Tom loves the latter and buys a jar to take home, despite the cost!  Jaime treats herself to shower gel, and Mart and I buy some cooking oil and Amlou.

The workers sit underneath a painting of themselves to carry out their work

Jaime has a go at grinding the nuts

I have a go next

On the way back we take a shortcut through another village, a little more modern this time. Jaime feels like a celebrity as children and adults alike wave to us. Before we know it we are back home, walking along our path. Our two hour walk has become a three and a half hour walk - Moroccan time can always be doubled!

One last treat though...Said calls to his friend, Sadik, who is our neighbour, to come and meet us. In front of us appears a smiley but toothless Berber man who brings us his broken musical instrument to show us - it is a Guembri, which is usually a three-stringed skin-covered bass plucked lute used by the Gnawa people of Morocco - but the strings are completely gone on this one. Sadik explains that the strings are made of sheep gut - but the mice in his house have eaten them!! He is now waiting for Monday when it is Eid and Muslim men must kill a sheep, so that he can get some sheep gut to make new strings! Then he will play his Guembri and sing again in the market and at festivals. We are all fascinated and cannot wait to hear this humble man play such an interesting instrument and perform his gnawa music.

We decide to go to the local cafe/restaurant for tea to save cooking. When we get there the outside section (where Mart and I have previously had a lovely lunchtime meal) is closed, so we are led into a dingy cafe where we are the only customers. Already we are feeling that perhaps this is not a good idea - and this suspicion is confirmed when we are given a menu, only to later be told that in fact they have only two chicken portions left, two rabbit portions and two veal....err, no thanks, I say, we'll come back another time! And with that, we get up and leave, much to the indignation of the waitress who is watching her evening tip walk out of the door! C'est la vie....