Of Chieftains and Indians

19.02.23 Tata - Foum Zguid Shortly before our departure this morning at 9 o'clock, Ricci changes his mind again. We are no longer going back to Taliouine, but instead continue on the original route towards Zagora. Maybe a French woman, who was standing next to me with her husband, quad bike and motorhome, gave us the final push to reconsider, stating that the road was clear again. We had to take the risk, also because the other route would have taken us back into the mountains, where the roads had suffered more from the rain.

The first few kilometers run almost like on a conveyor belt. Empty roads, hardly any cars, everything dry as if not a drop of rain had fallen in the past few days. We glide along like on a highway. The sun is shining, but there is a slight veil of clouds that bathes everything in a milky light. And a strange atmosphere: Be cautious... Don't count your chickens before they hatch...

We pass two critical spots. The water still floods the road, but it is clear that it is no longer deep. We can safely drive through. Four or five hours earlier, it might have looked different. In hindsight, it should be noted that our tour guides made all the right decisions. We let the rain and the critical days in Tata pass by at the campsite and then chose the best time to set off. And it was right to take the road to Foum Zguid, where we will arrive after 140 kilometers and a record time of two and a half hours, and stay for two nights.

We have adhered to the recommended speed of 80 km/h. Recently - especially under time pressure - this was not always the case, which led to discussions. Not for the first time. Some argued that too much water was used for car washing at one campsite, others saw less. Or the distances in the caravan were too large for some, just right for others, the breaks for taking photos were too short for some, too long for others. There were some heated words in the arguments, but then it was quickly over. A deep rumbling may still echo with some, but eventually it was forgotten.

That surprises me a little. Our travel group consists of 18 individuals, individualists, most of whom were chieftains in their professions, accustomed to leading the way and only following the wind and weather when driving alone. It must be different in a team. The well-being of the community is paramount here. This includes functioning as a group, which can only succeed if everyone subordinates their own interests, if everyone becomes an Indian. This can be difficult for chieftains at times. I have to admit, I had concerns about this before the journey. But it works better than expected, mainly because Ricci and Brigitte, our tour guides, stick very closely to their plan of action.

So now we are back on track despite all the problems, questions and doubts. We are on our route and gradually approaching our destination: the desert. And it looks like nothing can stop us on our way there - not even wind and rain.