Travelling the Land of the Kasbahs

posted on: May 9, 2018

By Habeeb Salloum/Arab America Contributing Writer

A few miles after leaving Marrakesh, the road wound its way on and on through the High Atlas Mountains through terraced green fields and deep valleys.  The scenic landscape was eye-catching but my thoughts were on the land of the Kasbahs, the goal of our journey. My life-long yearning to see these mud castles, hidden in the mysterious Moroccan desert, was soon to be fulfilled.

As we moved toward the mountaintop the landscape began to turn bare.  However, when we neared the snowfields, the view became more and more breathtaking.  From the edge of the snowy peaks, miles below, the grandiose gorges and valleys appeared awesome.  Seeing me study the scary highway curves, Henry, my seat companion, of Moroccan Jewish origin but now a French citizen, remarked, “There is little chance of survival should we tumble into that abyss.”

I was thinking of his words when we passed through the 2260 m (7413 FT) high Tizi N`Tichka Pass, the dividing line between vegetation and bareness in the heart of the High Atlas.  With the towering, snow-capped peaks looming behind us, we made our way downward through a stark landscape. In a few minutes, we came to a halt at a restaurant-souvenir shop roadside stop, offering food, colourful rocks and simple handmade leather goods for sale.

Ahmed, our driver, noticed that I was bargaining for some odd-shaped rocks. “Here, you will find the best values for rocks.  The price asked is not too high.” I looked at him, “Not too high! I saw the very same stones in Marrakesh last week for half the price.”  His face turned red, “You know Morocco then”, he embarrassedly remarked as he walked away. The commission he usually made from tourists had evaporated.  For the remainder of the journey, he never again advised me about the value of goods.

The barren hills kept us company until we reached Wadi Assif in the southern foothills of the Atlas.  Here, a small stream gave life to the only spot of greenery in the whole area. Contrasting vividly with the barren hills, the lush green along the river’s edge was a pivot of colour and life.  I turned to Henry, “I now know what Omar Khayyam meant when he wrote, `With me along some strip of herbage stow, that just divides the desert from the sown…'”

“Look!  Ouarzazate!  We are in the land of the Kasbahs.”  Henry was excited as we drove on one the town’s impressive wide avenues.  After the modest villages we had passed, even though the town was only a provincial capital of some 20,000 inhabitants, it seemed that we were entering a huge modern metropolis.

After enjoying our couscous dinner in the Kasbah-style Azhor Hotel, we toured the town, admiring Ouarzazate’s modern reddish architecture.  A true reflection of Morocco’s evolvement into the 20th century while maintaining pride in its heritage, these buildings enhanced the scenic settings of this important pre-Saharan crossroad, surrounded by a rocky landscape and overshadowed by the white-topped Atlas Mountains.  That night we slept well, in the comfort of a modern hotel, lulled by the cool-dry desert air.

The next day our first stop was at Tifoultoutte, the Kasbah of El Glaoui – a feudal tyrant who was once the strong man of French colonial rule.  Partially renovated for tourist purposes, it was our initial contact with these impressive mud castles.

Built from the local soil, mixed with straw, they cost very little to build – ideal for a people with little money to spare.  Their thick walls and high towers, which catch the breezes, keep them cool in the hot summer months – a natural method of air conditioning.  The huge fortress structures, erected by the wealthy and powerful, are the true Kasbahs. However, those with modest means construct their homes, on a small scale, Kasbah-style.

It is believed that the Arab tribes, migrating to North Africa from the Yemen, brought the art of Kasbah building with them.  I, myself, saw in my travels through that ancient Arab land, carbon copies of these desert fortresses that give southern Morocco the atmosphere of the Yemeni landscape.   We drove through a semi-barren countryside with the snow-capped High Atlas in the distance until, just a few miles before the town of Kelaa M`Gouna, we entered a fairytale country.  Kasbahs were everywhere. They seemed to fill the landscape. I was amazed.

I turned to Henry, “Aren’t they impressive?”   Alas! After driving by a few, it was evident that a fair number were in semi-decay with huge cracks showing in the structures.  The few that were kept in good repair were very attractive. Ahmed told us that if the Kasbahs were not maintained in good condition they would quickly fall apart and become a part of the soil from which they were built.

Our home for the night in Kelaa M`Gouna was Hotel Les Roses Du Dades, built on a hill 2,000 m (6,560 FT) above sea level.  The centre of a rose growing oasis, the town is the heart of an enchanted part of Morocco. In late May when the land is covered with roses, a Rose Festival is held amid the perfume of these flowers and those of the fruit and nut trees.  In-between the fields, Berber women carrying sacks of roses on their heads add another seductive dimension to the charm of the countryside.

Leaving Kelaa on our way eastward, the road was lined on both sides with Kasbah-type buildings, but there were no roses.  We had come too late in the year. At Boumaline, dominated by the Kasbah-like Hotel El-Madayeq, we took the road to the Dades Canyon – known as the `Valley of a Thousand Kasbahs’.

A torturous limestone gorge with incredible rock formations carved by the Dades River thousands of years ago, the Canyon is lined with countless Kasbahs, built by powerful chieftains in the past ages.  Everywhere in the gorge, these towering red fortresses, contrasting with the colours of the cliffs and the valley greenery, created a panorama of enticing colours.

Truly, the shop owner where we stopped for a drink had a point when he asked “Have you seen any place in the world more beautiful than our valley?”

On our return journey, less than half an hour past Ouarzazate, we stopped at the town of Aït Benhaddou which, as we approached, looked like a picture postcard of a Kasbah-village.  However, when we entered town, it seemed that most structure was in ruins. Only a few families still lived within its walls. Yet, strangely, even though there are many other better-preserved Kasbah-towns, the village is on the itinerary of tour groups.  Perhaps, the filming of scenes from movies such as, ‘Lawrence of Arabia’, ‘Jewel of the Nile’ and others, in this decaying Kasbah-village made it an interesting tourist stop.

For us, it was a sad end to our Kasbah journey.  We hoped that the crumbling structures in Benhaddou were not an omen for the future of Morocco’s colourful Kasbahs.