300 Dirhams and a Nightmare

02.02.23 Marrakech – Aït Ben Haddou I slept poorly. Suddenly, that hat salesman from last night would appear in front of me again and again. "300 Dirhams, Sir! Best price! Only 300 Dirhams!" And that honey-sweet smile. "Only 300 Dirhams." Wherever my dream took me, this guy would suddenly be standing in front of me, looking deeply into my eyes and bowing, whispering in his melodic English gibberish: "300 Dirhams, Sir! Best price. Really!" That night, I bitterly regretted not buying that damn hat and then giving it away.

Because I knew I had to be well rested today. We were going from Marrakech into the High Atlas Mountains, up to over 2,000 meters in altitude. That was a difference of more than 1,600 meters. I didn't want to imagine how many switchbacks we had to navigate, endless hairpin turns, oncoming traffic, and multiple taxi drivers honking their horns while overtaking. This could get interesting...

Fortunately, it didn't turn out that bad. Since Ricci last drove this route three years ago, it seems like a lot has been built, and construction was still ongoing in some places today. Where the road had not yet been renovated, it was quite bumpy. I had my hands full trying to stay in my lane. I also couldn't let myself get distracted by the enchanting views.

We eventually crossed the snow line, and during a break at a small restaurant, we could have easily set up a snowball fight - in Africa, in Morocco! I wouldn't have dreamed of that!

After six hours, we finally reached Aït Ben Haddou, the film city. The journey had taken its toll on me. But when I saw Maria jumping out of her motorhome, stretching her hands toward the radiant blue sky, and dancing for joy, I had to hold myself back. Man oh man, this woman! The Hamburg native and former insurance saleswoman is a powerhouse. At 79 years old. The mother of four has always taken her life into her own hands. "You have to do something, boy," she says, "otherwise, life will be over and you will have missed it."

When her beloved husband Dieter died ten years ago, she fell into a deep hole, from which she found herself again on the Camino de Santiago. After that, she met Willi on a website for solo motorhome travelers - "my love at an older age," as she puts it. Since then, they travel together - through life as well. Willi moved to Hamburg to be with her and has been called Wilhelm since then - "for prestige reasons," says the native Bavarian with a twinkle in his eye. The two were not deterred by this trip to Morocco, not by Maria's bout of corona infection, not by Wilhelm's Parkinson's disease, which has forced him to make more and more compromises for the past two years. But Wilhelm is happy to be swept away by Maria's whirlwind. "It's not always easy," says the woman from Hamburg, "but we wanted to see Morocco for a third and probably last time." Even if they may not make it all the way to Africa in the future, they want to continue the motorhome life. "We're on the road for nine months a year," says Maria. "And that's how it should stay for as long as possible."

It's only natural that Maria also took the excursion to the film city today. Over 20 films have been shot in the small Aït Ben Haddou with its mighty mud buildings, including classics like Lawrence of Arabia (1962), James Bond 007 – The Living Daylights (1987), Gladiator (2000), and Game of Thrones (2012).

After the tour of the famous film set, I saw a beautiful, almost plate-sized rose quartz crystal in one of the inevitable souvenir shops. I asked the salesman how much it would cost. When he put on that look and the sweetest of smiles, I sensed something fishy. "300 Dirhams, Mister!" he said. I turned around and left.