rage against the tourism machine
Morocco:Erfoud:
things started to turn for the worse in meknes when i realized that the ctm attendent had given me a ticket for the day before and very proudly explained to me in french that i would have to buy another if i wanted to go that night…sure enough, the ticket was marked the 26, and i couldn’t argue, literally, since he spoke no english. what i should have done was just stayed and left the next day and broken the trip into 3 or so day trips, but was impatient and anxious to see the erg chebbi dunes and paid another 10bucks for a ticket, so what, small loses with cheap transport, but it was a lesson in hindsight, after meeting mohammed on the bus, a lying swindling scumbag of a human being disguised as a gentle helpful berber hotel owner. you will give morocco as many chances as a cat has lives but at this point i am afraid to say that you are better off sticking to the guide book and NOT letting random seemingly congenial people lead you off the beaten path. we get to merzouga, his hotel turns out not HIS hotel of course and it is not IN merzouga, it is on the west side of the dunes, about an hours walk from the actual town. well not a big deal its nice enough and there is a chance that night to do a camel trek into the dunes, just 2 italian dudes going, but i jump at the chance, knowing that i do not want to spend another night out there, its desolate (duh) and theres nobody there…the price is way too high and i haggle but they wont budge much, so i accept grudgingly at a reasonable rip-off. the ride out is wonderful at dusk and the shadows of the elongated camels are too much on the rippled dunes, and scarab beetles scatter about and camel poops roll down the dunes like black marbles, we get to camp and have a mediocre tagine that had more sand than spices in it and there is a greek couple there as well, there is no “berber music” or campfire as promised, the italians and i try to climb a giant dune at night but can only make it up half and collapse in silence for an amazing hour of stargazing…the next morning we wake to a little flappy eared goat guy eating the remains of dinner inside of our tent, pretty funny, i nudge the italians and we all laugh as the goat stares at us as if to say “whats so funny?” we make it back to cafe du scam by 8am and the italians have offered me a ride back in their car, but their intimidating “guide” has already offered his friends rides back and says i cant come, the italians are too meek to argue with him so they split, then im screwed out of a ride back with the greeks, same suspicioius type dealing, then my “buddy” mohammed finally gets me a ride, its supposed to be free, we end up at a carpet shop outside of rissani, i am furious but hide it very well and go through the carpet shit one more time, no thankyou, then as mohammed is confusingly walking backto rissani he tries to bilk me out of cab money, after we agreed that i would pay “nothing else”, and we end up yelling at each other in the middle of scorched earth suburbs of rissani, and i have to give him 10bucks to show me where to go, fists clenched, i can hold back the anger no longer, he doesnt speak english too well but he catches my vibe and becomes contrite, but we part on nasty tones, pure son of a bitch…
and it occurs to me that morocco is a land of irony and deception, but perhaps these lessons are worth more than any desert transcendence in the long run, i dunno.