En route to Tendrara

Its "only" about 115 kms to the next town, Tendrara. The map shows no hills whatsoever so it should be rather easy to cover this distance cycling the whole day I think rather happily as I stock up on oranges, dates and water the next morning. Ibrahims mother gives me hoobz (home-made bread), still warm from the oven. I say goodbye to the family and roll out of the little village in company of Ibrahim who insists to come along for the first kms. As we say our goodbye he tells me I am always welcome in his home and invites me for his brothers marriage.
I thank him many times for the hospitality and out of the blue start crying.
After a couple of kms of flat road there is a little detour due to road construction and I hear someone calling my name ?! It s Ibrahims brother whos is working at the site and also wished me farewell and Bon Voyage.
From now on I am surrounded by flat mostly arid land without any trees in sight and nothing around for miles and miles. Only the odd bus, Grand Taxi or truck overtake me honking happily.
I stop at a couple of small houses to have a light lunch of oranges, hoobz with cheese and honey and some biscuits, there is a bunch of kids around which yell at me but keep their distance. Only three brave boys venture out to go see the stranger that arrived on a velo and is having a feast in the middle of their village. I share some of my bread with them and again they are off to fetch an adult to talk to me. A guy in dirty mecanics clothes and an old man approach me and wish me Salaam, inquire friendly about my trip and offer me some water. After a couple of nods and handshakes I leave. They must think me crazy cycling in Morroco.

As it prooves, I was wrong about the distance to be covered this day. After nearly 8 hours and only 85 kms cycling against a bloody steady headwind, I give in and decide to set up my tent for the first time during my trip in Morroco. I am rather nervous about this because there is nowhere to hide my tent behind and I will be seen from miles away.

I decide to approach some shepperds and ask them for permission (should they speak some french...). It prooves to be a good decision, "my" shepperds are a couple of funny guys, laughing at me they soon understand I want to set up my tent around here. They make gestures to come with them and making jokes we start walking towards their tents. As I start putting up my tent, they watch in wander and offer me fresh goat-milk for strong legs (actually they fill up my whole bottle !! The milk will last me a couple of days...) and call their mother and sister to come see and meet the foreigner. After having tea with me, they round up the herd of goats and sheep and lock them in the fence nearby their tent.

It is time for dinner and they ask me to join them for some couscous. I happily agree. The ladies are preparing a couscous with milk, onions and terfez. It has a sweet taste and is just delicious.

The running gag of the evening is that later I will encounter a donkey sleeping in my tent (On the way we saw a donkey and I asked wheter its theirs...).

But no donkey is around as I marvel at the million stars in the night sky, so I get into my tent and fall fast asleep only to wake occasionaly from the sound of coughing sheep and hoping goats hooves.

2 comments:

  1. Joe, he estado viendo las fotos del flickr y son brutales. A este paso no vas a querer salir de Marruecos!!! Ya te digo, en Europa somos mucho mas desconfiados..

    Un Saludo,

    Ignacio

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  2. Que bien te veo Sascha,,,no paras de hacer amigos durante el camino.
    Me estoy enganchando a tus relatos,,,cada vez lo haces mejor,,,muy buen estilo. buenas fotos tambien. Todo bueno. Sigue así, un abrazo, Pedro.

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