Publicat: 26.01.2023
26.01.23 Khenifra - Ouzoud: The best always comes last, and that was also the case on this stage. It didn't look like it for a long time. Our daily route today was not supposed to be longer than 50 kilometers. We had planned to park at a hotel next to a beautiful large lake. But when we arrived, the lake was gone and so was the hotel. So, to tell the truth: The lake was almost gone, but the hotel completely. And with it our parking space...
So what do we do? We decided to continue to Ouzoud, to the most beautiful waterfalls in Morocco. We wanted to spend three nights there - at least! But it was still about 170 kilometers to go. That was quite tough, after spending the whole day on the road yesterday. Fortunately, we were driving on a well-built national road. We glide along at 60, 70 kilometers per hour. I don't have to think about where the next campsite is, where I can stay overnight or dispose of waste. Ricci takes care of that for me. So the carousel of thoughts spins slower and slower. I let the impressions of this fascinating region sink in. I'm not looking for anything, not absorbing anything. I just let all the images and impressions fall into me. Some seep in and stay, others fall into oblivion...
On our way along the edge of the Atlas Mountains, we pass through smaller cities like Kasba Tadle and larger ones like Beni-Mellal. There is hustle and bustle here and there. Women and men go about their business, children play and frolic among them. It is noisy, there is much laughter, discussion, and - above all - intense bargaining. Only in the many small cafes is peace of mind. In the early morning hours, the older men sit stiff and stock still with a cigarette or cigar, enjoying their Qahwa Kahla, their very special coffee served with cardamom and mustard seeds. Time is of no importance to them.
But it is for us. We want to be in Ouzoud on time to get a spot. We make good progress before the last 50 kilometers turn left at Beni Ayat into the Atlas Mountains. The next nearly two hours are better than any movie. We zigzag hundreds of meters up and down serpentines, and the same thing over and over again. Tight curves behind which new images flash again and again, different vegetation, steep rock walls, or breathtaking gorges. It is the most beautiful route I have ever driven in my life. Oncoming traffic is limited, and we can enjoy this spectacle for the senses to the fullest.
After just a few kilometers, I can no longer resist the temptation to take a few pictures with my iPhone. After a sharp curve, a steep climb surprises me. Steering, photographing, shifting gears - it's too much. My engine dies. Udo behind me has to stop and has trouble getting his motorhome back into gear on this incline. I will stop taking pictures.
We finally arrive around 4 pm. I am almost drunk with this experience. But the disillusionment follows promptly: the campsite is overcrowded. A large group of Dutch people has booked all the spaces. But the operator arranges for us another parking space that is only one and a half kilometers away. It's actually just a better parking lot, but we can dispose of waste and get fresh water. And when the operator offers us a Tajine for dinner, the Moroccan national dish, all dissatisfaction is forgotten.