From Marrakesh to Ouarzazate: A Journey through Three Worlds

posted on: Mar 4, 2020

By: Habeeb Salloum/Arab American Contributing Writer

“The separation of a beloved torments the heart,

But mine is in grief when from Marrakesh, I depart,

Deep within me, without a rival is her love,

In my soul, there is no place for another.”

So wrote the Marrakesh poet Ismail Abu Adnan who I had the pleasure to meet during one of my sojourns in Marrakesh – known to many as ‘Empress of the Sahara’

When I first heard him, I thought that like all bards, he was overstating reality.  However, after I explored the city and it environs, I found that his lines were not an exaggerated poetic fantasy.  Rather, they could truly describe the feeling of one who calls this most fascinating and mysterious of cities home. It is a fine ode to one of the country’s four Imperial Capitals which travelers have labeled the ‘Pearl of Morocco’s South’.

I was thinking of the poet’s words as I prepared to travel to Ouarzazate, one of the most visited Moroccan cities on the Sahara’s side of the High Atlas Mountains.  Marrakech with its many gardens, pinkish structures, and historic landmarks was hard to leave but I was excited thinking of crossing the High Atlas then exploring the towns and countryside to the south.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when our bus set out, heading south toward the High Atlas Mountains – starting in October, snow-capped for eight months of the year.  For 40 km (25 mi) we drove through an irrigated area that gives life to Marrakech before we reached the foothills of these impressive mountains, some 725 km (450 mi) long and some 65 km (45 mi) wide.

As we began our trip, Ali, our guide, asked the language the members of his flock spoke.  Except for myself, all indicated French. Ali was somewhat peeved that he had to speak English only for my benefit.  All-day long he never let me forget that he was speaking English only for my convenience. Of course, it was less than passable English that I could barely understand.

In Morocco, for years, language has been a big problem. In spite of the fact that Arabic today is the official language of the country, French is, in fact, the language everyone uses. For the vast majority of the educated class, Arabic has become synonymous with fanatical Islam.  I will never forget what Fatima Mernissi, the famous Moroccan feminist told me when I told her that I loved most things about her country, that is with the exception of the Frenchification of Morocco. She smiled, “You want us to learn Arabic so that you can put us back in the harem!”

Language aside, we began climbing through valleys filled with almond, olive, and other trees as well as vineyards.  All around most of the foothills were green with cacti, shrubs, and trees such as cypress, juniper, and pine. Up and up we climbed on a winding mountain road, at times around hairpin curves.  Yet none of my 27 fellow passengers seemed to exhibit any fear. The experienced driver controlled the large bus well around the many bends in the road. The landscape through which we drove appeared to be a world of greenery seemingly climbing upward to the sky.

While enjoying the sights, Ali passed on to us facts about his country.  What caught my attention was the composition of the country’s population – 60% Berber, 30% Arab and 10% others such as blacks, Jews and other minorities.  He went on to say that unlike in the past the government has recognized the importance of the Berbers’ standing in the nation. Today, in schools, the major Berber languages are taught in the Arabic script along with Arabic and French.

After a one and a half-hour drive we stopped at a mountainside tourist oasis for refreshments.  Here the heat of Marrakech was forgotten as we gloried in the cool and invigorating air that soothed our bodies.  I felt comfort and contentment as I sipped on my morning coffee.

Moving onward, we climbed higher in the stunning High Atlas Mountains, passing Berber villages on both sides of the valleys or those perched on the mountainsides until the mountains became almost bare.  Higher still through the rugged scenery, even the valleys became bare and our world became a landscape of dirt and stone but the view became more and more breathtaking. Miles below, the grandiose gorges and valleys appeared awesome.  Seeing me study the scary highway curves, Neil, an English traveler with whom I was having a conversation, remarked matter of factually, “There is little chance of survival should we tumble into that abyss.”

Soon it appeared that we were traveling on top of the world, overlooking below frightening deep gorges.  I thanked God that we had a fine driver who seemed to easily control the bus [the]even when passing huge trucks on the narrow curves of the road.

We stopped at the 2260 m (7412 ft) high Tizi’n’Tichka Pass, the highest point that we were to reach on which rested Col du Tichka a large tourist oasis that is a heaven for mineral and fossil sellers.  However, this is not the highest mountain in the High Atlas. The mountain that takes this honor is Top Cal, meaning in Berber, ‘The Great’ rises to 4167 m (13,678 ft) – the highest mountain in North Africa.

As we walked around, the biting cold wind sent shivers down my spine and I began to long for the hot Marrakesh sun.  It was truly another world. I thought to myself, “How fickle are we humans – never satisfied with the weather!”

Downward we drove in the shadows of a distant snow-capped mountain as we made our way to Ouarzazate some 84 km (52 mi) away.   Following Wadi Ouarzazate, a narrow valley with a small streamlet, we traveled on a narrow winding road overlooked by mountains with their changing colors of reddish tones intermixed with yellow and brown shades.

Soon the valley began to come to life – in places heavily cultivated; at other spots, barely alive.  Gradually the highway became less windy and then leveled off still following Wadi Ouarzazate, which now widened and became edged on both sides by rich-looking cultivated fields.

At Aїt Ben Haddou where, because of the landscape and amazing structures, some 350 world-class films have been shot in its four studios, we stopped to take photos.  With the exception of film crews, it is a virtually deserted kasbah (feudal fortress).  From a distance, the kasbah and the surrounding homes looked magnificent but when visitors enter this kasbah town they find it in ruins.  UNESCO, which has declared this ruined town ‘a world heritage site’, has restored a small section.  The village is on the itinerary of tourists because of its filming appeal. Parts of movies like ‘Cleopatra’, ‘Gladiators’, ‘Sodom and Gomorrah’, ‘Jesus of Nazareth’, ‘Lawrence of Arabia’ and ‘The Jewel of the Nile,  were filmed in this decaying kasbah – now a must-see for tourists.

Leaving Ben Haddou with its movies behind, a ten-minute drive away, we entered the beautiful city of Ouarzazate with a Berber population of some 120,000 and growing fast because of the booming movie industry.  Built by the French as a garrison town in the heart of Moroccos Great South it is encircled by a barren landscape and overshadowed by the snow-capped Atlas.

A provincial capital whose setting is romantically scenic, it is an important pre-Saharan crossroad – an ideal point from which to set out on journeys of discovery to the valleys of the kasbahs both to the south and east.  Even though it offers all the amenities of a modern city, everything appears to be tranquil and fresh.  Called the ‘pearl of the sands’ and vibrant and expanding, it appears to have a bright tourist future.

We took Muhammad V, the town’s main street, then turned to dine in a fine restaurant.  It was an excellent lunch consisting of numerous Moroccan appetizers and salads than a tasty beef and vegetable tajine, and ending with Moroccan sweet oranges and mint tea,

Sated we toured nearby Taourirt, one of the once French supporting Pasha, El Glaoui’s kasbahs, considered to be the mother of all kasbahs.  Encompassing a series of crenelated walls and towers rising out of a mass of closely packed houses and lavishly decorated with geometric motifs it is one of the most beautiful Kasbahs in Morocco.

At one time, situated on the edge of the city, it is swiftly being surrounded by the modern town.  One of the many abodes of this once powerful Lord of the Atlas Mountains, it is today a tourist stopping place.

After the tour, some of our group went shopping with, of course, the guide taking his 30% commission, and then began our return journey late in the afternoon.  Tired, I sat down on my bus seat and reflected on our day’s journey. We had [had] traveled from the world of traditional and modern Marrakech, through a world of snow-capped mountains than on to Berber lands edging the Sahara.  It is not often that one can savor three worlds in one day. I was truly content with my exciting sojourn.