2 hr, 6.0 kms



One thing I've noticed in this area is the effort people go to to do things the right way . For example, for a footbridge across a stream, they don’t just use some scrappy board, they make a concrete bridge with steps and even handrails. Also, the roads here are narrow, but almost all paved, even to a tiny village. I’m told later that this isn’t due to the government’s special interest in developing this region, it’s because the people here work together and get things done. Their hard earned money isn’t just spent on houses—they also pool their resources to improve conditions for the entire area, building roads, canals, and even putting in lighting in some places. What you don’t see are a lot of schools. But that’s understandable: many of these villages just don’t have enough children in them—they’re all in the city.

This type of solidarity is something that has all but disappeared of in urban Morocco. Casablanca is a dog eat dog world where people usually don’t even trust their neighbors. You care about your family and circle of friends—and that’s about it. If anybody goes around collecting money for this or that, you automatically suspect that it might be a scam . Bosses and employees don’t trust each other… landlords and tenants don’t trust each other. There’s very little of that feeling that we’ve all got to work together for the common good, as I’ve seen in regions like Tafraoute… as well as other areas, like the Draa Valley, as well as even some isolated villages like Icht. It seems that Moroccan culture works best in small communities where everybody knows everybody. In cities, that fabric of society starts to fall apart. But it does seem that cities are the future of the country… as that’s where the money is.

The Valley I Pass Up

 

I continue on downhill until… you guessed it… another Valley Civilization begins, with multiple villages, stretching on for who knows how long. Only problem…I hid a Y in the road, right takes me down to the valley… left up the mountain again, towards Tafraoute. Damn… that valley looks very tempting… and if I don’t explore it now, possibly I never will . But I really don’t want to be stuck out in the middle of nowhere tonight, and I suspect it’ll be a long time before I find another turn off towards Tafraoute. So I reluctantly take the left road, wistfully gazing down at the Valley I May Never Know.

The Tafraoute road climbs, high, high up the mountain yet again, until I’m at a dizzying height above the south end of this valley, with its terraces climbing for hundreds and hundreds of meters up the mountainside… Just looking at them makes me wince, thinking of the enormous amout of work it took to create them—and how tiring it must be to climb up an down them to tend to the crops. I can’t tell for sure if their all being cultivated. I see stuff growing on them that could be wheat or just grass.

Finally I reach a mountain pass, with yet another valley on the other side. Here I pause under a shady tree for a snack and a pleasant little concert. Yesterday felt like winter and today feels like summer, since I’m out in the sun now . But high in the mountains there are still clouds, so I suspect it’s probably pretty cold up there. It’s weird to hike through different climate zones in one day! In Igherm I meet a cheerful old lady who tells me the name of the village, and a shop where I can buy water.   Looks like I’m not going to suffer hunger, thirst, and exposure like I did yesterday.

In Igherm there are the same typical big summer homes clustered together on the hillside. It looks like there’s another village higher up… no thanks. I think I’ve done enough walking up in the clouds