Into the Dunes

HASSI LABIED, MOROCCO -- April 8-9, 2006

I was up at 5:30 AM this morning and caught a brief glimpse of the sun rising beyond the dunes. Only me and the roosters are awake at this hour, or at least as far as I can see. After chasing down the best view I could find of the rising sun, I settled into the same spot where I enjoyed the cricket concert last night, mesmerized by the absolute stillness of this place, this tiny town on the edge of nowhere, with enough sand to bury Mount Rushmore and then some.

Aside from the pesty flies, there is everything to love about this place. It doesn't scream in your face, "Follow me, I make a special price for you!" It gives you space to come on your own. And you find that before long, you are happily comfortable being surrounded by the absolute quiet that it gives to you to lavishly.

After a light breakfast, I am off to find the dunes. I pass through a small vegetable garden fringed with palm trees, and come to an adobe mud wall that is begging to be climbed. On the other side, I look out over a wide expanse of scenery I have never beheld in my life. Sand dunes, rising into the deep blue sky like mountains of red-gold, fill my view. The dunes stretch across the horizon, their peaks and valleys a patchwork of shadow and light.

I set my sights on the highest dune and begins climbing towards it. My feet sink in the sand like deadweights, and for a moment my legs are convinced they are not in the desert, but climbing the stairmaster which seems to be stuck at level 20. It's surprising to me how much effort it takes the climb even short distances here among these other-worldly sand dunes.

The journey to the tallest duen is must further and more difficult than it appears. As I reach the top of one dune, another appears before me, like an accordion unfolding a bit at a time to reveal it surprising length. We reach the top of one dune and stand of the cusp of its perfectly formed edge, where winds heading in two separate directions collided and left their mark. Everywhere else, the surface of the sand is streaked with the ribbony waves of the wind.

Finally, we settle for the second tallest dune and sit on our high desert perch, surveying the rugged landscape below which transitions from mountains of sand, flattening into a narrow green oasis, behind which are the simple kasbahs of Hassi Labied. And in the far distance, mountains of the Atlas Range rise majestically in shades of purplish-blue.

The silence, the immensity, the striking contrast of sand and sky is spellbinding. We sit with eyes wide open as the desert wind gently blows at our backs. A few hours later, back at the kasbah, my skin reveals a scarlet-red Saharan sunburn. Not quite the momento I had in mind!

After an afternoon nap to wait out the worst heat of the day, I wake to the sound of wind screaming across the plains. My plan was to trek out to the dunes again in time to watch the sunset from my perch on one of the dunes. But the wind is intense -- a vicious sandstorm is in the works. The sky is gray from flying debris. Any hopes of seeing the sunset are shattered.

I fall back into a deep sleep until 8:00 PM and awake to a Berber-style dinner -- omelette cooked in tajine with tomatoes and green pepper, and the traditional Berber all-purpose seasoning known as the "44-Spice." I don't think I can name 44 spices. Nonetheless, it is dangerously hot but delicious. We wash it down with the juice made of mango pulp. Delicious.

We take a night stroll through the village, reveling in the peace of a place so desolate. Because of the heavy winds, which have since slowed to a light breeze, the starts are thickly covered in clouds of dust tonight.

We return to the kasbah, and are invited to tea with Rashid and Isabel, owners. I enjoy an hour of conversation in English with this French woman who came many years ago to Morocco as a backpacker and left with a husband, only to return three years ago to build this kasbah and being her own business. She offers us an excellent price for a camel trek into the dunes for sunrise tomorrow. When we had arrived last night, Rashid had quoted us 400dH per person (for a 2-hour trek). Now, we have been offered a price of 150dH per person. We can't possibly refuse.

~Melanie --Posted by Melanie to The World Beckons. And She Moves. at 12/09/2006 01:17:00 PM