Travel / Moroccan tales. Sahara Desert. Erg Chebbi

Part 1

Part 2

Chebbi - the most famous erg in Morocco. His popularity he owes location - near one of the Moroccan villages of Merzouga. To reach here from Marrakech, you can watch eight, the quality of roads allows you to get to the desert on any car, even for a Ferrari. Then you can choose a hotel to suit every taste and budget and in the morning to go "behind the dune" literally walk - way from the center of Merzouga to the highest sand dunes Erg Chebbi takes less than an hour. In general, it is not surprising that 99% of tourists trapped by fate in Morocco and wanting to see the Sahara, just go here.

Compared Chebbi with ergs located around Mhamid, this comparison is clearly in its favor: the dunes are larger (the highest, according to the guides, reach a height of three hundred and fifty meters), and the color of their beautiful (even with the midday sun it poured reddish hues, not to mention the colorful sunrises and sunsets), and sand - smaller and more pleasant to the touch, and the views from the ridges of the dunes - interesting ... In short, everything here - "more is better", except for one : tourists Chebbi - though in Anapa on the beach in August, a lot. After that call the desert erg Chebbi - do not dare: every centimeter of the local dunes covered with traces of tourists, camels, quad bikes, buggies and SUVs. Do you want to present the Sahara? You will obviously not here, choose erg Shigaga or, at worst, Lihoudi. Love the bright tourist consumer goods? Then - yes, the Wellcome Chebbi!

Merzouga - wildly popular. From Marrakech and Agadir tourists are driven by entire bus. Entertainment - typical standard: drive on the sands of a quad or buggy ride around the neighborhood on the SUV (good erg - a small, 20 kilometers in length and no more than 10 in width), a ride on a camel at the foot of some gigantic dunes or up to one Bedouin of the many tourist bivouacs, for those who are just not enough - to spend the night outdoors in a tent. Search Chebbi Dunes privacy or without traces of camel, jeep or ATV - useless occupation.

Unlike Mhamid, around which you can meet and Saharawi and Ihor Kharatin, and even the Tuareg, the entire population of Merzouga and other villages on the edge of Erg Chebbi - the Berbers. They called themselves "amahagi" (translated from Berber - "free men"). Actually, the word "Berber" - European origin. The closest to it is the word "barbarian" - so in ancient Greece called those who spoke a foreign language and belong to another culture. It is believed that both of these words - onomatopoeic origin, that is, they appear simply as a collective of alien phonemes incomprehensible speech.

In this case, if the Europeans are traditionally referred to as the Berbers of all without exception of North Africa, the Muslim, the Berbers themselves clearly separate themselves from other people living with them in one area, for example, or Saharawi Tuareg.

Flag Berber. The blue color symbolizes the sky, green - the surrounding nature, yellow - desert sand and mud city. Red figure in the middle - the symbolic image of a man.

Flag Berber

Morocco - a Muslim country, so the alcohol can be found only in specialty stores, from the most reminiscent of the fortress: the lattice on the windows, barbed wire, a small door, near which certainly is on duty a couple of bouncers, and a bunch of local lumpen elements at the entrance, through which it is necessary to fight our way. Not easy, but we managed to get hold of a couple of bottles of Moroccan wine, which we have given to drink the local Berbers, met us at the riad in Merzouga. In response, they Nakuru Dimona some Spanish foolishness.

In general, of the drugs in Morocco most widespread hashish. Locals call it «chocolate» ( «Chocolate») or «shit» ( «shit") and do not hesitate offer everyone. Although cannabis is sold freely at each corner, for its purchase and use by local law should be punishable by ten years in prison.

Berbers drunk, smoked Dimon, has ceased to be a languid evening. We start having fun: we sang, danced, and, clinking glasses, on Berber tradition in unison shouting "Ah-Africa-ah!"

Another sleepless night flew by in an instant. I jumped from the ringing alarm, vowing to myself - that would not have happened the next night, nothing would make me get out of bed earlier than I had a good sleep.

The head after yesterday's Sabantui treacherously buzzing. It was cold and damn sleepy. Rather than break the alarm clock on the wall and climb back into bed, we had to trudge off into the dunes - to meet the dawn.

To go on foot, I still booked us on the eve of the camels. For me, this little adventure was to be the debut, but the more experienced Dimon, who had already experience humpback transport whether in Tunisia, or Egypt categorically refused to accompany me. I was greatly surprised - the camels so he was not pleased? By the end of the evening, with the help of wine and marijuana, I still managed to break his will and force to go with me.

Camel jumped sharply, lifting me off the ground a couple of meters on the good, and, driven by some Bedouin, rhythmically swaying, walked somewhere deep sand. From the shadows at me looked great sand hills ...

My advice: if you offer to go somewhere on a camel - would never agree. Honestly, more sophisticated torture to think hard. Even the most ingenious tortures of the Inquisition in comparison to this - no more than a childish prank. Imagine that you have both prostatitis, haemorrhoids and sciatica. All this in an advanced stage. After that, you put on a solid stool, and begin to throw together ... Do not believe it? Just look at my face, soulful and glowing morning happiness. Dear Mother, what little I not dead ?!

Cursing hangover concomitant migraine, played out early in the morning hungry, grated legs sandals, backpack with photographic equipment, weighing perhaps a ton, a sharp pain, flows from the back on his ass and back and recalls that I just got off the camel, and I still will ride on it back, finally, a banal desire to sleep, I got thirty minutes over the crest of a dune, and then sat down to wait for dawn.

The sky was overcast, but it was clear to the east.

Suddenly out of the darkness came two sands caravan - some tourists returning from the desert in Merzouga

From the horizon the sun came out. Caravans stopped for a moment, and then moved on dejectedly.

Chebbi Dunes affect its size. Ergi Mhamid, in comparison with them, seem small children's sandboxes.

View on Merzouga. Sands comes close to the village, some hotels and riads literally run into them their walls.

As I said above, the erg Chebbi along and across the tracks lined by jeeps and other off-road equipment.

However, if, creaking heart, drop this unfortunate fact can not be denied that there is - damn beautiful. Words can not convey.

Somehow, the people of Merzouga, but it comes about Mhamid, snort with contempt. According to them - there is not all: the desert and not real, and sand - is incorrect, and the sky - not so blue, and breathe differently, and songs of local residents - immelodious and cook food, they do not know how. In this case, none of the spiteful critics, of course, never in Mhamid neither been in the vicinity.

All this, of course, talk to the poor, but there is in them a single grain of truth - erg Chebbi really beautiful their counterparts from Mhamid. But for all its beauty, it looks - like a cheap tourist attraction: it is not and can not be feeling this desert, which is still possible to find in the desert under the Mhamid.

Faced with the next day, we saddle the camels back to Merzouga.

On the outskirts of Merzouga is located Berber traditional cemetery. What I like about the desert - so it permanence: run past century, and in the way of people living here is almost nothing has changed.

The riad is waiting for us lunch.

While the tea cools down, I think, that the partners of our expedition - HotelTonight application - provided us with a deposit, so that we could at any time find themselves overnight. We - the first travelers, who will take advantage of this service in the territory of Morocco.

Hotel Tonight

We say goodbye to Merzouga and we leave towards Fes. The road - a long, go - a little less than 500 kilometers.

The route stretches along the Erg Chebbi. What still is a huge dune!

Between ergom and highways - scorched earth African sun. It is - or lerg Hammad - stony desert.

Erg Chebbi

With us tied one of our companions of yesterday. He needed to get home, fifty kilometers in from Merzouga. Along the way we have, we can not of course do not attend one of his numerous relatives. "Here we make a short detour - about two kilometers, but I will show you the best gift shop in the whole of Morocco!". Yeah, a lifetime dream, thank you!

Remembering last night, I worried all the way - as if our companion did not have a drug. Otherwise - you never know what it all might end. Oh, how very suddenly, he decided to go with us, and I could not asleep quickly come up with a decent argument why we are against this great idea.

Finally, in one of the towns along the way, our passenger leaves us. In conclusion, he kept calling us to come to his house - to drink tea so to chat. Politely refuse. Exhale and go further.

Our way lies through the center of Morocco. The road winds through the mountains. In the valleys meet periodically vast oasis, its leaves rustling evergreen palm trees.

It's amazing - just a few days ago, I admired these landscapes, and now they are so fed up with me, that I want to just quickly get to Fes. And sleep ...

It's getting dark. My second day, tormented by some sore on the foot. I'm sure that somewhere hurt leg and all the waiting, when the wound is healed. I can not stand and stop at one of the mountain serpentine, to see what was wrong with my leg. Removing sandal accidentally noticed that out of it sticks up a huge thorn, which bites me in the leg, creating discomfort. Well that's what hurt to check Shoes More eve? ..