I get all the news I need from Google News.  No radio and no TV for the last week.  Lucky me.  Unfortunate you.

Good News:

Back home, far, far away, there are Americans that think with their brains, not just with robotic allegiance to party affiliation.  I read the following on CNN:

“I would support a random name in the phone book” over Trump, said Philip Zelikow, a University of Virginia history professor who was a State Department official in the George W. Bush administration.
Retired Army Col. Peter Mansoor plans to vote for Hillary Clinton for president this year, but not because the longtime Republican and former top aide to then-Gen. David Petraeus has had a political conversion. He just thinks Republican Donald Trump is too dangerous to be president.  

“It will be the first Democratic presidential candidate I’ve voted for in my adult life,” said Mansoor, a professor of military history at Ohio State University.

 
The bad news:

• Millions of Americans are not as smart as Zelikow and Mansoor.
• I departed PDX 4/23, so I have been on walkabout for 38 days or so.  I will soon be approaching the midpoint of my walkabout.
• Things will start getting more expensive as I enter Spain, France and the UK.

From Tata to Essaouira.  Was in the middle of nowhere.

Still another rug shop.

Goats climbing an olive tree for a meal.  At least a dozen were in the tree.  They climbed around the tree like spiders.

Wild olive trees were everywhere.

Middle of nowhere.

My second rug.  Handmade, natural wool and dyes.  Took months to make.  Intricate.

Posted June 1.  Written several days earlier.

Abdoul met me 15 minutes after I called him this morning.  He said shiping locations were closed today, so my ishallah regarding shipping yesterday did not work.

Plan B.  Rent a car and take a road trip.   Escape the city and head for the mountains and the desert.

Guided tours run about $120 per day + dinner + tips.  Easily $150.00 a day, sitting in a bus, van or a 4WD with people you do not know,speaking languages you do not understand and stopping when the guide gets some baksheesh.

Saw several dozen busses, about 2o vans and dozens of 4WD tourista vehicles today on the way to Ourazazate. All looked full.  Lots of touristas exploring Morocco.

A bus load of Japanese were reboarding their bus, luckily, when I stopped at at Berber rest stop for a beer.  It was one of the few bar signs I saw all day.  Had a Casablanca for 40 Dirham.  The Berbers were proud of their beer.

Traffic in Marakesch was a nightmare until I was about 10 kilometers away from Marakesch.  Then up and into the Atlas Mountains.  Top of the pass was just over 7000 feet and it was comfortably cool.  Lots of road work from either a new road or a landslide.  You could tell that when it rained, it poured and there was serious flooding that would block the road in dozens of places with rock and water several feet deep.  Reminded me of the Baja and Death Valley.  Deserts that get heavy rainfall.  When it rains, it pours.  The road would be impassable and covered with feet of water and rock during rainstorms.

Bought two geodes.  Berber men and boys were selling geodes along the roadside in the middle of nowhere and there were many roadside stands selling them.  When a man about 50 years old shook hands with me after my purchase, his hand felt as rough as the geode I just bought.  He literally begged me to buy it from him for 50 Durham.

Only saw one carpet shop, but did not stop.

For those interested in the package tours, I found this online:

You are headed to the African nation of Morocco. Your Moroccan tour operator has told you about visiting Berber villages. You have heard all about the Berber craftsmen, their knowledge of the land, some of their indestructible history and maybe a bit more. Or perhaps you’ve never heard of them at all. Just who are these Berber people? A Moroccan pre-Arab culture has ruled unperturbed and unconquered for hundreds of years. Let’s take a look at this amazing people.

Who are the Morocco Berbers?Morocco Berber History

Believe it or not, Berber history goes back to prehistoric times. They’ve been around for at least 4000 years or maybe more. Calling themselves Amazigh, the proud raiders, they fought against the Romans, Arab, and French invaders. Even though the Romans and others have tried to colonize the Berber people, they have managed to preserve their own language and culture and in reality were never beaten!

Berber language is primarily oral in nature, although they have had their own writing system for more than 2500 years. Sometimes hard to find, the writing can be seen catalogued in the small museums throughout the south.

About Morocco Berbers

A light skinned people, they have been called by many names: Libyans by the ancient Greeks, Numbians, and Africans by the Romans and Moors by medieval Europe. In fact, it was the Arabs who came up with the Berber name. Islam came to the Berbers in the ninth and tenth centuries. Prior to then, most Berbers across Africa were Christian or Jewish. Two great Islamic Berber dynasties, Almoravids and Almohads, ruled large parts of Spain and northwest Africa.

Today, most of the twenty-seven million Moroccans are either Berbers, Arabs, or Moors (people of Berber/Arab decent). Their ancestors became the Almoravids and Almohads that built the mighty Moorish empire that ruled Spain, Portugal and Northern African.

Most of today’s Berbers live in the mountains of Morocco while the Arabs and Moors live in the cities, though it is very common these days to see Berbers running, owning and operating small shops and other commerce endeavors.

The west has characterized Berbers as nomads using camels to cross the Sahara desert. Most today are farmers of the mountains and valleys in Morocco. They were traders in the earlier days. Berber’s long recorded influence affected commerce by establishing trading routes between the West African and the Sub-Saharan region. They transported goods from beyond the Sahara desert to the Northern Moroccan cities. Merchants were considered in a higher class than the farmers, however, through history the roles have mostly been reversed.

Morocco Berbers

Different tribes of Berbers inhabit different regions in Morocco. Drawa Berbers are found in the Draa Valley. The Dades live in the North East, The Mesgita, Seddrat and Zeri tribes are along the rives of the North West. Moroccan Rif region is home to the Ghomara.

Talk to your Moroccan tour guide and operator and find your self on a vacation of your dreams. A Moroccan adventure will take you from the modern cities on the coast to Berber villages high in the Atlas or Rif Mountains.
You can go trekking or visit during one of the many festivals to see age-old Berber customs being practiced in today’s world. Stay in a modern riad or an ancient Kasbah. It matters not where you go in this magical land as you will find the adventure of a life time. You can customize your tour to suit your interests and needs. Book your Morocco tour and begin your adventure today

After researching car rental prices and reading a few blogs and the US State Department webpages on Morocco, I chose a self guided tour over a package tour.

  

All good.  Will post pics and a story or two later.  Got a ticket by an unfriendly policeman.  Not wearing my seat belt.  Had just stopped to check the price at a hotel ($44.00 with spa, pool, massages, facials, etc.) and had driven just 100 yards.  In my haste, I had not yet put it on, after wearing it constantly for 600 miles of travel in the desert and mountains.  Se la vie, as the locals would say.

I was in some remote, wild, out the way places on the drive between Tata and Essaouira on the Atlantic coast, where I am now.

Accidentally locked my phone’s SIM card, rendering my phone useless.  A friendly policeman helped with the unlocking process..

Room is 150 yards from the ocean, only $20.00 a night.  This is the view as I walk out the door of my room.  Feels Moroccan, with clean sheets, a decent mattress, lots of noise from gulls.  No towels, tp, soap or shampoo, but I travel prepared.  

Essaouira is much more to my liking than Agadir, to the south.  Agadir is like Cabo or Cancun.  Essaouira is an old hippie hangout that still has small town charm. The guys running the hotel are very friendly.  When told I am from America, they ask “New York?”  I always shudder then I explain that Oregon is north of CA.  I then draw a map of the US on one of the 3X5 note cards I always carry.  Everyone is interested in the U.S.

I much prefer the Medina ans souk shopping here vs. Marrakech.   Will stay several days.

Just had to stop and take pics when I saw these goats climbing an olive tree for a meal.  There are about a dozen goats in the tree, if you enlarge and look close.  They were climbing around like spiders.

 If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine
And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung

Would you hear my voice come through the music

Would you hold it near as it were your own?
It’s a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken

Perhaps they’re better left unsung

I don’t know, don’t really care

Let there be songs to fill the air
Ripple in still water

When there is no pebble tossed

Nor wind to blow
Reach out your hand if your cup be empty

If your cup is full may it be again

Let it be known there is a fountain

That was not made by the hands of men
There is a road, no simple highway

Between the dawn and the dark of night

And if you go no one may follow

That path is for your steps alone
Ripple in still water

When there is no pebble tossed

Nor wind to blow
You who choose to lead must follow

But if you fall you fall alone

If you should stand then who’s to guide you?

If I knew the way I would take you home

By the Grateful Dead

Wished I was driving this:

$22.00

Was in middle of nowhere today.  Hot, desolate, rocky.  Beautiful.  Remote.  Barren with the exception of the numerous oasis that were passed.

Rented a car and took off for a 5 day,  1000 mile road trip.

No stinking tour busses or vans for me.

The freedom of the open road.  I stop when and where I want, not when I am told to exit the bus.

When I was paying for my last night’s lodging she asked for 10 Durham each for the taxi phone call two nights ago and for the 6 ounce OJ after my walk from the restaurant.

“You are going to charge me 10 Durham each for a taxi phone call and for one small OJ?”

“You are very rich.”

“I am not rich.”

“But you are American, you are rich.” 

“I am not rich.”

I gave her 400 Durham.

She handed me 3 coins (20 Durham) shorting me 65 Durham. 

She had the balls to ask “Is OK?”

Where was walking when I met Abdoul and his motorbike yesterday before he took me to the tannery.

Then to my hotel

Then back to the tannery

To hotel

To tannery

To hotel

To medina

I saw lots of Old Marakesch on the back of Abdoul’s motorbike yesterday, plus saw several neat places.  It was a $10.00 windfall for him and the price of a movie for me.  

It was money well spent.   

It was equal in price to a movie or dinner for two at Mc Do’s, and much better entertainment.

I could have spent an hour bargaining with him for $5.00 less, but would the time that it would take really be worth it?  

Abdoul wants more of my money now.  

I am ‘The Rich American’ to him.  

I am leading, he is anxiously following. 

(BTW, I met him while I was out walking today).

It is “The Dance.”

Tomorrow, at 10 AM Abdoul will hustle me off through the back streets of Marrikech (inshallah) on his motobike to a shipping office (inshallah) with my ‘to be shipped’ bag under my arm.  

I needed help negotiating the shipping maze, just like in Egypt. 

Hopefully, he will act on my behalf tomorrow (inshallah).

Paying him an extra $5.00 made him want more time with me.  

He knows that if he does me right, I will do him right.
Then, I a plan to escape the hustle and bustle of the city for the country side.  

Not on a $100.00/ day group tour with a bunch of Moraccan touristas or on a slow, overcrowded bus.  

I’m going solo.

I’m feeling like I need some mountain air to clear the tannery smell from my brain.

If you did not read the BBC News link about the Marrakech tanneries in the earlier post, please do so now.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/shared/spl/hi/picture_gallery/06/africa_marrakesh0s_tanneries/html/1.stm
Or try the following:

Marrakech Tanneries
If neither link works, let me know in a comment.

After a relaxing morning coffee, the best I have had so far on walkabout, I did some web searching on dangers, cautions, prices and the top sights in town.   

I focused on the tanneries.  

Searching the web, looking at Fodor’s, wiki, and other sources, I set out with my maps and GPS tracking apps all turned on so I could find the way back to the hotel. 

The medina section, or old town, is surrounded by a big fortification wall, so if you stay inside the wall you know that you are within a mile of your hotel.  Finding your hotel may be a different story.

I walked about 1/2 mile, making mental notes of key landmarks I passed.  There were few foreigners and many motorcycles.   Most shops were closed, as Friday in Muslim countries is like Sunday in the U.S.

A man walking a moped excused himself as he walked around me on my left.  I kept walking.  Once ahead of me he turned and asked if I was looking for the garden square.  I nodded yes.  He spoke understandable english and said he would walk me to the square.  After walking 100 yards he said most places were closed but the tannery was open with leathergoods for sale.  He said he was not a guide, but he ended up guiding me.  He said money was not important, but it was, eventually.  I knew the dance.

I crawled on the back of the moped and he fired up the engine.  It was my first ride on the back of a motor bike since racing all over the back streets of Kathmandu, 16 months ago.  Winding through the narrow alleys, around blind 90 degree turns without honking and potholes where I could feel the rear tire needed 30 pounds more air, past donkey carts full of veggies – we made our way.  I knew not where.

We exited the wall surrounding the medina, picked up speed and I became a little worried.  Where the hell are we going?  I felt like an animal that jumped the fence and was in the open range for the first time.  

Luckily, we soon reentered the city wall and came to a stop near a man outside a narrow doorway.  He was holding a handful of green herb.  I got off the bike and the man crushed the herb in his hand and then handed me the herb.  He instructed me to smell it.  It was mint. 

I was at the entrance to the tannery.

I quickly figured out why he gave me the handful of mint.  We walked around several corners, down an alley and I was standing in the midday sun amid the hundreds of concrete vats full of pidgeon fececes used for tanning,  vats with different colors of dyes and the putrid, foul smelling animal skins – horse, sheep, goat, camel.  

Men waded in the vats wearing only rubber boots.  They handled the skins, scraped off hair, stacked and sorted the hides, some without rubber gloves, aprons or other protective gear.  Several young boys chased each other as they played a game amid the vats of hides.  I continued to hold the crushed mint in my hand, but breathed only through my mouth.

Feeling adventerous, I let a small amount of air through my nose as I took a photo.  I immediately asked “Do tourists get sick often?”  The man nodded.

Carefully stepping around puddles of liquid, piles of hair and hides, I took several more pics and then said through my nose “That is enough, I get the idea.”

We went to a store next door where after mint tea, lots of haggling, leaving then reentering, I bought three real nice camel skin leather bags and a really nice hand made rug.

Abdoul (or maybe ot was Muhamed) then took me back to my hotel on the motorbike to drop off my purchases. 

He then took me to a store unlike any I have ever seen in person, in photos or on TV.  It was f’ing amazing. Photos do not do it justice and it was more eye popping than the Egyptian Musuem in Cairo. It was jam packed with the most amazing handicrafts I have ever seen in my life. I wished I was high.

After half an hour of browsing, and hagling, I bought an old Saharan leather bag that will be a great piece of wall art.  I could go on an on, but will let my pics tell the rest of the story, as Paul Harvey used to say.

I paid Abdoul $10.00 for tyhe motorbike rides and guiding me for 3 hours and then asked him to take me to the post office on Monday to ship my treasures home.

Upon returning to my room, I stripped and washed my shirt, pants and shoes.  I then thoroughly showered. 

But the tannery smell remains……indelibly imprinted in my brain.