We left class on Tuesday a few minutes early to catch the eastbound train to Taza. From Meknes, it's a three hour ride and it's the furthest east I've been in Morocco so far. While approaching Taza we had beautiful views of a massive lake/reservoir (Moulay I):
Apparently large lakes are a lot more common in Morocco than most people expect. The other passengers in the train car explained this to me and were quick to offer all kinds of advice about where to travel in Morocco and where to go in Tazzeka National Park, which is just south of Taza.
We arrived in Taza at 530 and walked around a little before finding a grand taxi to take us up the mountains to the campsite. We somehow found a person who might be the coolest, most reasonable and reliable taxi driver in Morocco. He only charged 100 dirhams to drive us for over an hour to the peak through terrifying winding roads and mountain traffic jams. We drove past farms and abandoned vacation homes.
When we did reach the campsite the sun had already set. Before we headed off to find a secluded place far away from the official campsite, we asked our driver to meet us at the same spot the next day at noon.
"Inshallah."
That response doesn't inspire much confidence but we had no other choice but to trust that he would show up the next day. The area was so abandoned that there was very little hope for finding another ride, let alone a taxi.
We walked down the road with the light quickly disappearing from the sky. We decided to start walking into the woods and stop at the most appealing spot. We didn't go far before we found a clearing with a beautiful view of layers and layers of mountains sprinkled with the lights of the tiny city. Unfortunately, I just couldn't capture the view on camera, especially in that lighting. The silence of the place was overwhelming. I haven't experienced anything like it in months if not years. We immediately started looking for firewood before we lost all sunlight. Since it was such a dry area we easily ripped branches off of dead trees and acquired a large pile of wood in a few minutes.
We cooked veggies and beans in aluminum foil over the fire and followed it up with roasted marshmallows. Just as we were getting used to the silence, the call to prayer rose into the mountains. There's really no escaping it in Morocco and I can't tell if it's irritating or comforting.
Since this was an impromptu camping trip, we had practically no supplies. No tent, no sleeping bags. The weather was so pleasant that neither of those things seemed necessary. We brought a small mat and some sheets to roll out on the ground. I wandered away from the campsite to find the last bit of wood before the fire burnt out. I was scanning the ground with my flashlight when, somehow, I spotted a blonde scorpion a pace away. I don't know how I saw it, but I'm lucky I did because my next step would've been directly on top of it. After shining the light on it, it started to scurry away. I know that scorpions won't seek out humans and probably prefer being far away from them but I was seriously worried about one getting into our bedding (maybe seeking warmth if it got cold at night?) and me rolling over on top of it. That would be that. The closest hospital that could possibly have anti-venom must have been a few hours drive, assuming we could find any mode of transportation in the first place. Oh well, I thought, we have no other choice but to sleep on the ground. Ten minutes later, while putting the mat on the ground I found another one, this time by stepping on it. I immediately jumped off of it and saw that I didn't harm it at all. It's stinger was pointed straight in the air and it's pincers were flexed. Seeing two scorpions in ten minutes without looking for them seemed like a bad sign to me. The place was probably full of them.
After coming back, we looked up the species:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Androctonus_australis
We rolled ourselves into blankets and tried not to think about the scorpions. What ended up being more distracting were the frequent shooting stars and the bats flying just a few feet above our heads. I slept only a couple hours and woke up when it started to get light outside, between 4 and 5am. I explored the campsite more and enjoyed the view.
We packed up and left a few hours later and walked down the road, hiking along a dried stream bed. Then I realized how much the area reminded me of parts of New Mexico and southern Colorado. The smells, the trees, the terrain, everything seemed exactly the same. We went and explored the abandoned vacation homes. It was impossible to tell exactly what their purpose was, why they were so oddly shaped, and why they were strewn with shattered tiles and bricks as if construction on them was halted months ago.
At ten til noon we returned to the spot where the driver said he hopefully would be. We had just sat down when we saw him pull up. We thanked him for showing up and being on time and asked him to take us to the famous Friouato Cave, the largest in Africa. It was only a few minutes from the campsite and he was happy to wait for us while we explored for an hour. Like I said, he was the best cab driver ever.
The cave was empty save two or three Spanish tourists who quickly left. It was breathtaking.
We started walking down some very poorly-designed steps that became more and more slippery as we descended. They were covered with clay mud which might as well be ice when it's wet. The handrails were sometimes wire, sometimes non-existent. The most striking thing about this cave was the abundance of moss and plant life around the edges. It made it look like something out of a fairy tale. It was clear that each plant got its few essential minutes of light every day as the circular opening let in the sun at a constantly changing angle.
We explored the little tunnels at the very bottom but could only go so far. We had flashlights but we were prohibited from going past a certain distance. With guides, it's possible to walk/crawl miles within the cave and there are all sorts of springs and pools and cave formations. I've read that the actual depth of the cave is unknown since there are so many tunnels and people can't squeeze past them.
I underestimated how difficult the climb back up would be. It was around 500 steps and by the end my knees were wobbly. We walked outside of the official entrance to the cave and went to the main hole at the top where you can't enter. It was lined with barbed wire and warning signs so it was impossible to lean over and look in from the top.
When we were leaving our taxi driver was patiently waiting for us and was ready to take us to the train station. We arrived two hours earlier than our train departed and were happy to just sit down and relax with this nice cat we found.
The only place open in Taza in the middle of the day during Ramadan was the Marjane (a chain supermarket) so we bought some chocolate ice cream and pretzels and ate it next to the train tracks with complete disregard for anyone fasting. Luckily, the place was pretty empty.
