Page 20 - Riding On Autumn 2022

The view of the Atlas Mountains from
the Marrakesh campsite.

Yes, those are goats up in that tree. You
may not want to know what they’re doing!

4IDIÞ ON THE

/ARáKESH 'XPRESS

Morocco was a lot of fun; here are some highlights.
And you can take a look at it now!

When Mrs Bear and I visited Morocco, dealing with the locals Some third world campsites ban pedlars and other non-resident
was almost universally a pleasure. These are naturally nice locals, and that is generally welcome because it reduces the
people. The only major exception was just after leaving the likelihood of theft and the inevitability of constant hassling. I’m
Spanish enclave of Ceuta, when touts tried to sell us hashish not down on locals, it’s just that the only security you have in
wherever we stopped. I told one of them that Readers Digest a campsite is the fence, and sometimes the only ‘time out’ you
had informed me that drugs were bad, leaving him puzzled. The get is behind that fence. The owner of our Marrakesh campsite
touting didn’t last long, anyway, and once we were on the way allowed one pedlar in, possibly because he was exceptionally
WR 5DEDW ZH ZHUH EHLQJ WUHDWHG MXVW OLNH WKH UHVW RI WKH WUD໥F ± goodhumored and entertaining and possibly because they were
mainly ignored. related. He was a small, thin and quick bloke with a huge grin,
which was only tested once while we were bartering the clothes
Some of the trucks did signal us to pass, but after one very we didn’t need for his blankets and bags.
narrow escape I stopped trusting their blinker signals. I think
the intentions were good, but their estimates of our bikes’ Mrs Bear had decided that one of her bras was no longer
acceleration were a little high. UHTXLUHG DQG VKH R໤HUHG LW DV D WUDGH IRU VRPHWKLQJ 2XU IULHQG
was puzzled by this strappy bit of lacework, until Mrs Bear held
³7X ´ , VDLG SRLQWLQJ DW WKH NLG , KDG WHQWDWLYHO\ LGHQWL¿HG it up against herself and said, “pour madame?”. His mouth
as the leader of the gang of urchins surrounding us at the dropped open, he blushed brightly (not easy for a sun-browned
DjeemaelFnaa in Marrakesh where we had just parked our Berber) and happily did the trade among much laughter from
bikes. “Icisont deux dirhams [the Moroccan currency],” handing everyone present.
them to him. “Si les motossont bien, je donne un autre deux
dirhams pour tu.” The most memorable encounter was with a one-legged and
one-toothedold bloke we met when we were camping in a palm
“Hasan,” he said. This is one of the few Arabic words I sort of grove in Tinghir, on the Saharan side of the Atlas Mountains. He
NQRZ ,W PHDQV ³¿QH JRRG´ RU LW PLJKW KDYH EHHQ KLV QDPH came over to admire my buddy’s sidecar and was soon telling
He nodded and clapped his right palm to his chest. us tales of his time working for the German Army during WW2.
In a mixture of German, French, Arabic and, I assume, Berber
Maybe-Hasan was as good as his word; when we came back and with wildly waving arms and stump, he told us how much
from our walk the bikes were as we had left them. I tipped him fun the war had been.
an extra dirham and made what I suspect was a friend for life.
Certainly when we arrived the next evening he was there with “The Germans had motos like this,” he shouted, “but they had
KLV JDQJ DQG DOO VHW WR SURWHFW WKH ELNHV 7KH ¿YH GLUKDP QRWH PDFKLQH JXQV RQ WKHP $QG WKH\ KDG ELJ $XWRVPLW.DQRQHQ
that changed hands cemented our relationship. and very good food! I even drank (he looked around carefully)
some beer! And the Americans came over with avions and shot
One of my companions wasn’t quite so lucky when we stopped – zam, zam, zam – all along the street and that,” he grinned
to take photos of the Moroccan argan tree-climbing goats. triumphantly, “is how I lost my leg!”
These caprine harvesters eat the nuts and the oil-rich kernels
are recovered from their dung. The argan oil is subsequently Oh yes, it was fun all right, not so much later with the British
XVHG DV D EUHDG GLS RU LQ FRVPHWLFV $K GL໤HUHQW VWURNHV ± DQG who apparently didn’t have time for Berbers. “I would have
VWDUWHUV IRU GLQQHU IRU GL໤HUHQW IRONV helped them,” he shrugged a little sadly, “the Germans were
gone. But they said, ‘go away’ (this in English) and so I didn’t
Anyway, we wanted to take photos of the goats, but a tell them where the Germans had left a lot of clothes and even
hyperactive bunch of little boys was determined to make us guns.” He laughed again. “I sold them instead! To my cousins!”
pay for the privilege. “Yes!” they shouted, “One dirham. Yes!”
while jostling us. My buddy was trying to be fair and repeatedly I wouldn’t have been surprised if my little friends back at the
asked “Who owns the goats?” in English and French, holding his 'MHHPDHO)QDD KDG R໤HUHG PH RQH RI WKRVH :: VXUSOXV
dirham up. “Yes, one dirham, yes!” was the fervid response as Lugers
they danced around him. I was ignored in the excitement and
managed to take some photos. When I was found out and also J Peter “The Bear” Thoeming #675
surrounded by dancers, I tossed a couple of half-dirham pieces
across the road. That got rid of my newfound friends quite
quickly.
My magazine, Australian Motorcyclist, is running a
readers’ tour of Morocco later in 2022. Pick up a copy
of the magazine or take a look at our website,
www.ausmotorcyclist.com.au , for more details.
It’s going to be a great trip!
RIDING ON 20