Handour tranquility

Or I could title this blog, searching for paradise! But one man's paradise is another man's............?

We set out in search of one thing and found another. Pretty good really. As it should be. As it is.

Our motorbike adventure today took us up a different track in search of the 'Bab n Ali', A known rocky feature high up in the Jbel Saghro. A beautiful drive with the track being slightly more stable than the previous adventure. Green valleys and barren plains whizzed by, waves of hello to people we passed and a slight confusion as to what we are looking for?
So we stop to ask a local, who tells us that, that way is one way and that way is another? Mmmm
We carry on.

The scenery is awesome and what we think is our destination is high up to our right along a narrow track. So we stop and ask another pair of smiling locals. One says up there, the other says no, go back and around. ?? It's all too beautiful for words really, so what does it matter. We turn around and go back to look for the 'right' way to paradise and soon realize that we are going to go straight back to Nkob unless we stop somewhere. The left turn referred to does not exist on this road. So we take a right and drop down the valley side, not too quickly and find the pretty amazing village of Handour.
Which all the photos of today are taken from.

We'd already passed paradise without knowing it!

In fact, we must be in paradise all the time and just don't know it!

I must remember to open my eyes more often and see the beauty that surrounds me. Cheer up old man, we all suffer the same confusion. The grass is never greener on the other side. We just need little shocks to wake us up. Handour is one of these as is travelling.



As you can see in the photos, the small, quiet palmerie is an oasis of life in amongst the dry hills that surround it. Well farmed and cared for, the sound of water is everywhere. a trickle here and a gurgling there. Water pipes are are plunged into pools to take liquid life off to another plot. and not a soul in sight. Not since we left the small village and wandered off to find our base for this days magical picnic.

Here I am trying to get to grips with our new smartphone. Does everything except cook food and teletransport us to anywhere in the world. I suppose it won't be long. Still, it makes a good telephone and camera and is small so is always handy.

Old fashion digital cameras still take pretty good images even if they are a bit bulky !!

Needless to say, as I wander taking photos, Krysia has stopped in the shade to draw. What a picture she makes and no doubt is making.

A subject and an observer at the same time.

                                Time

                              Less

 

Beautiful Handour

A walk in N'Kob

Just a stroll from our campsite is the town of N'kob, surrounded by the vast plains and mountains of the area. We are truly in the desert but rains fell last November, even making the news back home.

So everywhere is evidence of the water that is so needed for anywhere to survive and today we are on the lookout for what was missing last year. Water.
Down a dark alley we hunt our liquid gold and find the tower of the past on the banks of what must be a mighty river when it occasionally flows.






The width of it is almost unbelievable. Can this whole area become a raging torrent? We would rather not find out but the mind boggles at the thought of it. A wall of water appearing suddenly and becoming a flowing river in an instant. That is, we are told, the way it happens. When it rains, it pours. the mountains don't have time to hold the downpour so it runs furiously down into the valleys. Was the tower a lookout? Who knows.

We walk on and Krysia finds her dream home! Well, it needs a spot of repair and I have to remind her that it reaches 50 deg C here in the summer!

But look Ted, we could own our very own Kasbah.

Mmm, how to break this to her. I think even the locals have given up on this one darling. Why do we not continue on and see what else we can find!

The tower is nice too but......

At last, the Palmerie. Water lies in small beds waiting to be planted and no sooner do we enter the maize, we are surrounded by lush vegetation, palms and crops. All irrigated by the winters rain which must be stored up in the mountains.

Broad Beans are very popular and hiding in the shadows, Krysia looks for somewhere to stop and sit.

She sets to work on a drawing or two as I wander and take in the beauty.

                                     Water of Life








The Drawings

The lady, above, stopped for a chat and left her mark on Krysia!




This chap was at a cafe we stopped at for a coffee and he just could not keep his eye off Krysia.


Gotcha.

N'Kob and The Jbel Saghro

And it's warm, well during the day but at night the temperature plummets to around freezing as it should under clear skies this time of year in the desert. The pool is not for swimming in ! Looks nice though.

We're settled here for the moment. It's a tranquil place, pleasant locals and stunning scenery to be explored. To our north is the mountains of The Jebel Sahgro. Home of the semi nomadic Ait Atta tribe. A fierce bunch historically. The last tribe to surrender to the French in the 30's and not after having fought against huge odds and numbers, to make their own terms of surrender, allowing the French to get on with running the protectorate as Morocco was then. They have never been pacified so I understand.

For us, we can't be a threat because they are warm and friendly as we ride out into the mountains to explore the region. The motor bike comes into it's own and is why we bought it for in the first place. To explore.

As we wend our way up into the mountain valley, we find a spot to stop by the side of gentle running water which appears to have a giant anaconda lazing in the shallows.

Not so, it's a water pipe! The valley is green and fertile in places and this pipe must be the very life's blood of these mountain communities. Jbel Saghro means dry mountain in Tamazight. It is the driest area in the region.

But not on this day as the trickle of water literally echoed through the valley, a sound that must disappear as soon as the winter passes.

I wandered away from the water into this harsh landscape. How hot must it get here in the summer months? Life must come to a standstill as the heat intensifies.
 

 So I return to the resident artist at work, shading herself from today's strong sunshine. This is a perfect spot for drawing and being. On a hill in front of us, a small child sits quite high up just watching. The stranger with the silver umbrella seems hard at work. The aging hippy, wanders about talking to frogs. A strange lot these tourists.

So come on Krysia, times passing. There is an hours drive back down to N'kob. The temperature will soon be dropping. And no doubt, we'll have to stop on the way down to take in a view or catch a shadow. 

                            Shadows. 

It's a tough ride on our legs and bottoms, a rough track all the way. So we are both glad to be back at the campsite, able to unwind, relax and reflect on the day's remarkable journey.

                                                    And there's a drawing to be finished.

                                            Jbel Saghro mountain stream

Over the Top

Over the Top describes yesterday and today. It's Saturday 24th and we sailed a week ago. Yesterday, we spent another day wandering Marrakech. We bought a jelaba for yours truly and proceeded to make him into a model for aging Moroccan hippy.com! The brown number he's sporting was sold to him by a master of his trade. Hopefully I didn't pay too much! but then I'll never know. The shop keeper assured me I'd got a bargain and the quality was premium.

Now why so many shots of old fool? Well, a kind Mexican girl lent me a selfie pole to help show up the junior brown bear. So naturally he didn't know when to stop. Still, a good laugh was had by all and hopefully you'll see the humour too. 

Back to reality and the park next to where our van is "parked" will bring us down to earth 

On to today and over the Top, literally. We left Marrakech at 9.30am and drove the tichka pass over the Atlas Mountains. Always a stunner, never fails to get you tingling with a mixture of excitement and fear. It takes about 4 hours and following a lorry is s bit of a relief. Slowly but surely. 

With the hand of Fatima leading our way, we pass no cars and plenty of evidence of winter storm damage. This is the main road to the desert and the lorries churn up the aging Tarmac. Still, they know how to do it safely and like a sheep I fall into line. 

And finally, over down again. 

With the snow capped mountains behind us and after some lunch. We push on for several more hours to N'kob. South of the Jebel Saharo, well into the ' desert '. We arrive at 5.30pm tired bunnies. It's been a long day. But just one week after leaving Portsmouth and we're deep in the Moroccan Sahara.

Dodgy geezer over and out.