Results for "Safi+|+1+>+66"
779 results found.
Lunettes pour le Maroc English translation pending
Bonjour
Etant passionné par le Maroc et par le 4x4 je souhaite me rendre utile dans le cadre de mon metier. Je suis marrié avec 2 enfants et je suis opticien dans le sud de la france. Je peux me libérer pendant 15 jours 1 à 2 fois par an avec mon véhicule (à mes frais bien sur) pour acheminer plusieurs centaines de lunettes avec verres correcteurs dans les villages les plus reculés.
Pour cela j'ai besoin de different contact ou association pour évaluer les besoins (quantité, type de probleme visuel courant, élaboration de test visuel adaptés...)mais égualement pour les démarches administratives pour les passage en douane de ce type de marchandise. De plus je peux égualement en profiter pour charger le vehicule de colis à destination des villages.
voila...
Hervé Leseine
Henacla3@tiscali.fr
Etant passionné par le Maroc et par le 4x4 je souhaite me rendre utile dans le cadre de mon metier. Je suis marrié avec 2 enfants et je suis opticien dans le sud de la france. Je peux me libérer pendant 15 jours 1 à 2 fois par an avec mon véhicule (à mes frais bien sur) pour acheminer plusieurs centaines de lunettes avec verres correcteurs dans les villages les plus reculés.
Pour cela j'ai besoin de different contact ou association pour évaluer les besoins (quantité, type de probleme visuel courant, élaboration de test visuel adaptés...)mais égualement pour les démarches administratives pour les passage en douane de ce type de marchandise. De plus je peux égualement en profiter pour charger le vehicule de colis à destination des villages.
voila...
Hervé Leseine
Henacla3@tiscali.fr
Travailler au Maroc English translation pending
Bonjour,
Je suis en train d'envisager d'aller travailler au Maroc (Tanger et Casablanca) en tant qu'"ex pat". Cela fait plus de vingt ans que je suis attiré par ce pays, et j'espère concrétiser mon rêve d'aller m'installer sur place d'ici peu.
Je cherche des personnes qui ont déjà fait cette expérience et/ou qui vivent toujours sur place en ce moment.
Merci pour vos réponses et conseils.
Patrick
Je suis en train d'envisager d'aller travailler au Maroc (Tanger et Casablanca) en tant qu'"ex pat". Cela fait plus de vingt ans que je suis attiré par ce pays, et j'espère concrétiser mon rêve d'aller m'installer sur place d'ici peu.
Je cherche des personnes qui ont déjà fait cette expérience et/ou qui vivent toujours sur place en ce moment.
Merci pour vos réponses et conseils.
Patrick
Desert Crossings... (Morocco)
The story of a trip to Morocco, from the first to the last day—otherwise, it wouldn’t have made sense...
Marrakech... then four days on foot in the desert, alone with a guide, a camel driver, and two dromedaries... and Marrakech again.
Everything mattered, even the smallest details, so this is a (very) long story.
Behind the descriptions and anecdotes, there’s emotion, intimacy, and... soul-searching.
All the things it’s strangely easier to share this way, all the things it’s strangely easier to share with people you don’t know...
I have beautiful images in my eyes, but only a few are visible—if you read carefully, you’ll understand why.
The other photos are imagined, created upon returning with souvenirs and a bit of staging.
But everything is authentic.

Since I’ve been back, sometimes at night I open my eyes and don’t know where I am... Sleepless night, starry night, night of communion, connected night... In that suspended moment, between wakefulness and sleep, which makes you so receptive... Communion with whom? Connected to what? Lila gnawa... lila de derdeba.
The desert, a solitary path. You step in, and you’re immediately in the essential...
Wednesday... My companion drops me off at Orly Ouest... There are two hours before boarding. My MP3 player turns on but that’s it. It freezes—no commands work, and nothing fixes it... Smile... A trip without music, then? And the first anchor falls away.
(Photo...) ... Passport, tickets, receipts, labels...
Nose pressed to the window for the entire flight... Descending over Marrakech, at low altitude, a pretty mosaic—shades of pink and ochre dotted with green, but also, to the right, less harmonious, aligned cubes. Housing developments under construction? A bumpy, turbulent landing—the plane circles for a long time before touching down.
Welcomed by the familiar, unchanged sound of creaking doors and seats in the little taxis. In Casablanca, it was red Simca 1000s with meters; here, they’re yellow, and you have to negotiate the price. I have no talent for that, so here’s 100 DH!
Traversed and forgotten
Marrakech... Sunny, luminous, sensual. Torn between tradition and modernity... Shimmering and fragrant, very noisy... rather polluted? On the road, horses and donkeys still mingle with vehicles... and watch out for traffic when crossing! It’s always a strategic—and athletic—adventure: at what exact moment do you sprint to the opposite sidewalk? And why aren’t any street names marked?
Afternoon on foot, heading to the Bab Doukkala bus station... A landmark: the McDonald’s, then a square with a fountain. Then turn left onto Avenue Hassan II. There’s a bus to Zagora Friday morning, but I can only buy the ticket tomorrow. On the way back to the hotel, at a kiosk on the corner, I buy *Tel Quel*, which I read with great interest online.
Thursday... Early morning, walking to Place Jemaa el-Fna, calm and almost deserted... I don’t get a good deal buying two small daggers for my kids. No talent for haggling—it takes more than charm for that... So I’ll pick the rest of my gifts at the artisan center on Avenue Mohammed V, where prices are marked, and it’s a pleasure to watch the craftsmen work... For my daughter, a satchel and earrings. The satchel smells like goat. The earrings are hand-chiseled in front of me by a very young man with nimble fingers—marvels of delicacy and fragility. Then I linger for a long time in the souk alleys. Scents of leather, thuya and cedar wood, wool and copper... Familiar smells... Childhood memories...
Dear daggers
Earrings
Back at the bus station, an unexpected change: no bus Friday morning, but a departure tonight at 8:30 PM... I have a little time before packing, so I take a long detour: Boulevard de Safi, then right onto Avenue El Mansour to the Majorelle Garden... A quiet pause. Rare plants, all kinds of cacti—smooth, fuzzy, bristling with spines... strange, squat, or stretched-out shapes. An infinite variety of greens, and that famous blue... The song of birds, the sun and shadows playing in the water basins... Time flows lazily. I write postcards—they’ll arrive long after I’m back...

Back to the hotel. Avenue El Mansour, Boulevard Zerktouni—okay, but why are the small street names never marked?!! I get a little lost...
I hope you got my MMS, because before leaving, I left something for you at the front desk...
8 PM, night has already fallen. Arriving at the bus station, and then... Then, a step back... A dense crowd, a tangle of buses... Where to go?... Rare woman, lone foreigner, backpack... I’m quickly spotted, surrounded, poorly guided... Someone with a badge finally points me to the right sidewalk. The bus isn’t there, and the sidewalk is already packed, mostly with men. Will I even get a seat?... Three young men are particularly insistent... They want to know where I’m going and why, if someone is with me, if I’m expected... I answer with a smile. A bit tricky—choosing words, staying polite while evasive... Their French is hesitant, my Arabic is more than rudimentary... Actually, I shouldn’t have tried... Their tone becomes a bit... aggressive, and their eyes light up. Uh-oh... They say they’re students, but what of?... Want to know what I think of the Quran and Allah, what I think of holy war, if I’m "for the Americans," "for the Palestinians"... Other travelers intervene... And the bus still isn’t here... The speech turns fanatical... Then, my smile freezes a little... A small wave of panic, so I send a "freaked out" MMS... (But who else could I send it to?) Then, in this dark crowd, a light dressed in white... Nabila, a young student heading to Zagora for vacation, she speaks French... She plants herself in front of them and scolds them thoroughly. I didn’t catch everything, but it worked! The three troublemakers retreat. Plus, they weren’t on the right sidewalk, and their bus is about to leave without them...
Nabila and I manage to board and sit side by side... The bus leaves two hours late. The trip is long, a bit uncomfortable, slowed by many stops—it was very cold...
Friday... A little stiff, a little dazzled, a little chilled, arriving in Zagora at dawn with the sunrise... Magical! Craving something warm... And then, a heartfelt gift—kindness and hospitality—Nabila invites me to her home. Warm welcome from her mother and siblings, not at all surprised to see me show up so early to share their breakfast! A few hours in their company... We exchange addresses, and the youngest brother, Nouamare, gives me a children’s storybook...
Noon, at *La Fibule du Draa* Lahcen Sarti, the owner... I finally put a smile and a face to an email exchange... He shows me the trek route on the map, laughs when I tell him about my night on the bus, and sends me to rest by the pool... No swimsuit, so a lounge chair and a book... A book that will accompany me into the desert and which I’ll finish in Marrakech, in the Koutoubia Garden...

Saturday, Day 1... When I wake up this morning, I know the desert sand will also absorb my blood...
Early departure for four days and three nights, alone, as I wished, with a young guide, Mohammed, and a younger camel driver, Abdou. We’ll be together 24/7, and we won’t see a soul until we reach the fixed campsite on the third evening. Everything we need is loaded onto two dromedaries. And in those baskets, there are miracles—a *Prévert*-style inventory I’ll discover bit by bit, like... a tray for glasses, a basket for bread, a sugar loaf and small glasses for tea, but... large glasses and sugar cubes for coffee, spices, oranges, vegetables, raw eggs!... That won’t break, *La Vache qui Rit*... And so many other unexpected wonders, so surprising in the middle of the desert... (*La Vache qui Rit* is the desert butter. Every morning for breakfast, it was coffee with Nido powdered milk and *kesra* with *La Vache qui Rit* and Aïcha apricot jam... A delight.)

Start of the journey, and the beginning of a long, long walk... We’ll cover 80 km in three days, crossing all kinds of landscapes until the real desert of sand and dunes... I’ll drink water from wells, eat raw vegetables, sleep on a mattress that saddles the dromedaries by day... I’ll forget all the warnings and all my hygiene references... My body will quiet its complaints. No heat, no thirst, no fatigue, no trouble of any kind... just woken by the cold every morning around 6 AM... I take off my watch. Like my companions, I’ll live by the sun’s rhythm...
Abdou leads the dromedaries, so he walks at their pace. Sometimes, we’re grouped together. Sometimes the two guides are together, and I walk behind. Sometimes we talk. Nothing is forced, no discomfort. It’s a simple, harmonious dance—one foot in front of the other, following your shadow as it turns with the sun... Each step leaves behind the useless, the cumbersome, the superfluous... Room for intimacy... Room for silence... Room for the inner self... Facing yourself... I find seashells, and with my eyes closed, I smell the sea...
... One foot in front of the other...
I take out my camera... Capacity for a hundred shots, but it’ll be 10 photos, no more. It freezes—no commands work, and nothing fixes it... Smile... A trip without photos, then? And the second anchor falls... I think of my MP3 player...
... A few photos among the ten...
Noon... Unsaddling the dromedaries, which immediately wander off in search of food. And before the meal cooked by Mohammed, the mint tea ritual, prepared by Abdou in a tiny teapot... Thick, frothy, very sweet tea... He serves it on a tray with dates, peanuts, and raisins... And it’ll be like this every day, noon and night...
We gradually get to know each other... Mohammed, 25 years old... Calm, very introspective, almost ascetic, he knows the desert well and loves it... So at ease that he’ll walk in slippers or barefoot, no matter the terrain... When I’m behind him, the advertisement on the back of his sweatshirt makes me smile... There’s a date: January 8, 2003... A little wink from life? (I have a clear memory of that day.) Abdou, barely 20, with a round, jovial face. The mint tea master... When he hands me my glass, he says "Bismillah," and I respond in kind... A joker and a foodie. Thrilled that I only eat vegetables, he’ll have double the meat!
... Abdou and his teapot...
... Mohammed...
Late afternoon, a well... Abdou waters the dromedaries, and Mohammed fills the canteens. The caps aren’t watertight, so he wedges a piece of plastic bag found in one of the baskets and screws it on top... Forget all hygiene warnings...
First night in a tent at the foot of Jebel Baní...
... Jebel
Sunday, Day 2... Crossing and ascending Jebel Baní... A mineral, lunar landscape—rocks the color of burnt bread and anthracite gray. I pick up pretty pebbles, and Mohammed finds me a fossilized stone... Lunch in a deserted nomad oasis... When we resume our walk, the wind picks up. A wind that only blows in April, violent, terrible—the *Sahli*... Swirls of sand and gravel. Where’s the sky, where’s the earth... everything is dust, everything is yellow and opaque... The gusts are so strong they make us stagger. At times, we even have to crouch to avoid falling. In the acacia forest, Abdou and the dromedaries are only a few meters ahead, yet we can’t see them... We’ll later learn that on that day, planned excursions were canceled... That a group got lost and had to be picked up by 4x4... But Mohammed has a sense of the desert. He’s calm, he guides us... so we continue, and I trust him. He wraps a *chèche* around my head—a fragile barrier against these onslaughts... We have to keep moving, and it’s difficult... But the desert has accepted me, so without resistance, I accept it... And the sand gets everywhere... in my mouth, crunching between my teeth, in my eyes, ears, and nostrils... in my hair... A fine ochre layer covers my face and body, even under my clothes. I’ve become a sand woman... Communion... Fusion with the mineral. I absorb the desert’s prodigious power, just as the desert absorbs my blood...
We walked for four hours, pushed by this furious wind, before stopping for the night under an acacia... There, we had to set up the tent, which they did with difficulty. Then we had to weigh it down... So the utensils and the mint tea tray served as shovels to cover the edges with sand. Then Abdou took care of the dromedaries, holding one of their front legs bent with a rope to keep them from wandering too far... Then we brought everything into the tent and collapsed... but not for long.
Mohammed prepared kingly meals at noon and night with the wonders in the baskets: finely chopped raw vegetable salad, vegetable tagine, soup (and not from a packet!)... Even the canned sardines were garnished with thin orange slices... After this exhausting day for all of us, I told him that bread with *La Vache qui Rit* would be enough... He looked at me with a big smile and said his evening ritual phrase: "Now, Laurence, sit down, take your time, take your book..." He pulled his sand-filled utensils from the miraculous basket, his stove, some vegetables, and made us couscous (and not from a box!), couscous he rolled between his hands... Meanwhile, Abdou took out his sand-filled teapot, his sugar loaf, the peanuts, the dates... The mint tea ritual, like every day, noon and night...
Outside, the wind keeps blowing, stirring up sand whirlwinds... So I won’t go out like the other night to brush my teeth and hair. Just a wipe on my face to remove the dust... Mohammed turns off the gas lamp, and I curl up in my sleeping bag. The dromedaries have moved closer to my side of the tent, and the moonlight stretches their shadows on the canvas. They’ve settled in and make strange noises... We fall asleep very quickly...
Monday, Day 3... My two companions are still asleep when the cold wakes me at 6 AM, like every morning... Everything seems so calm—the wind has stopped... I untie the tent door and... A pure blue sky, gradually tinted with pink and flaming orange. The sun rises before my dazzled eyes. A day of light begins: no trace of yesterday’s storm, except sand... everywhere.
So, breakfast with sand... Then we shake out everything that can be shaken, sending clouds of dust flying... Then Abdou gives the dromedaries back their fourth leg, and we continue the journey.
After the expanses of stones and shrubs on the first day, the rocky ridges of Jebel Baní, and the acacia forest on the second day, the landscape changes, softens... We arrive in the desert as you imagine it, as you dream it, as you’ve seen in thousands of photos: endless golden dunes, in harmonious hollows and curves... The desert of sand... vast, fascinating...
Last meal for the three of us... Tonight, we’ll arrive at the fixed campsite, and we won’t be alone anymore. The break stretches on... So, a little apart on the smooth sand, I write a few words... an obvious truth... entrusting a secret to the desert. In a small box, I’ll bring back some of this magical sand...
.. A secret in the desert...
Abdou grabs my notebook and draws the dunes. Mohammed draws Abdou and his dromedaries... I learn to do dishes with the contents of a single glass of water... A tiny bird lands on my bag... A bird!... in the middle of nowhere!... The dromedaries seem to relish the acacia branches, thorns and all...
Desert drawings
We set off again... The dunes are higher... Easy to climb, the desert has sensual, feminine curves. A giant’s hand would fit its reliefs like a caress on a soft, supple body... The setting sun gives the landscape colors of amber and spices, cinnamon reflections... The sand offers me pink pebbles and pieces of white quartz that sparkle... I also find a black stone... Mystery...
Pink pebbles, fossilized pebbles, sparkling pebbles, and a black stone
Late afternoon, arrival at the fixed campsite at the foot of Erg Lihoudi... The guardian, Lahcen, a whirlwind of chatter and energy, welcomes us with mint tea. He quickly pegs me: "You do yoga, right?" He tells lots of anecdotes about his "clients," ending every sentence with: "No problem! *Machi mouchkil*... *Machi mouchkil*, no problem!" Around the tents, dozens... hundreds of big black beetles swarm on the sand... As I shudder, Lahcen gently picks one up and wants to put it on my hand: "*Machi mouchkil*! It doesn’t sting!"... I hold out a hesitant palm... Despite Lahcen’s infectious enthusiasm, I don’t like this last evening. Two groups arrived by 4x4 to spend a night in the desert... Noise of engines, cameras, voices, and exclamations... An intrusion into my bubble... I keep my distance... They’ll leave very early the next morning...
Memory of beetles
Tuesday, Day 4... Standing still on a sand dune, I see both the full moon and the sun in the same sky... A luminous face-off. Magical, overwhelming... Then the moon paled, and the sun blazed brighter. It wasn’t quite night anymore, but day wasn’t far off... The Sacred, Mystical universe unfolded before me... A moment of grace that made my heart beat a little faster... Something indescribable gradually filled me, with infinite gentleness, to the depths of my soul... Facing this unlikely encounter, hesitations, reluctance, and fears seem so trivial... What are we if not fragments of this universe where everything is united... everything is connected...
Then comes the intention of a new message: "I’d love to put a face to..." But in this exchange scattered with misunderstandings, could you receive the intention without interpreting it?...
I stayed a long time on that dune, under the spell... Standing, barefoot and rooted... heart open... Receptive... in Unity between the infinitely small grain of sand and the infinitely vast universe... I hadn’t come to seek anything, yet the generous Earth offered its energy, its subtle strength to every cell of my body, and filled my soul with light... In exchange for this blood spilled on the sand over these four days?...
Give to Receive... Receive and Give... like a signed pact.
What exiled me from my life, disrupting all my bearings, drew me here... A necessary passage through space, withdrawal, and silence... for another birth?... The real desert after the symbolic desert... Pausing for a moment, as if at a crossroads. Connecting before continuing... If this path leads to the essential, then this path has a heart and will continue...
At the foot of the dune on the way down, I found a little Fatima’s hand made of beads. A gift from the desert...
Gift from the desert, good luck charm?
Mohammed and Abdou leave Erg Lihoudi with other people—our shared adventure ends here... Emotion... looks and gestures speak louder than any words... Thank you, from the bottom of my heart...
Return to Zagora in a rickety, bumpy 4x4... After the track, we cross a vast palm grove... Shimmering colors, lush vegetation, palm trees growing in wheat fields... Tender green of the ears, faded green of the fronds, all shades of green contrast with the ochre and pink stone walls... My eyes rediscover green... My eyes rediscover colors... On a narrow path, the 4x4 finds itself facing a donkey carrying three children on its back... Impossible to pass. Who will back up?... Well, roaring progress bowed to four-legged tradition: in a cloud of dust, the 4x4 reversed for several hundred meters... The donkey passed calmly... On its back, the three children waved their hands...
Noon, arrival at *La Fibule du Draa*... Smiling welcome from Lahcen. He offers me a shower—I refuse... Even if he seems a little surprised, he has the delicacy not to show it too much... Strangely, I don’t feel dirty. Yet my clothes are the same, and my body hasn’t seen a drop of water since the day I left... But I want to keep the warmth and the smell of sand on my skin... reconnecting with forgotten, instinctive, animal sensations... So, I transfer my meticulousness and civilized conditioning to my bag... I take everything out, empty it, shake it... hunting down the smallest grain of sand... Futile effort! (I still find some today...) The afternoon stretches lazily by the pool... I contemplate my pebbles and make a lovely encounter...
The Zagora-Marrakech bus leaves at 7 PM... It’s the night of the full moon, and as soon as night falls, the sky fills with stars... Points of light without beginning, without duration, without end... Tiny lights so distant and so close...
Wanting to share this moment... And with whom else? If you look up, you’re the only one seeing the same sky as me. So, the intention of another message. But in this fragile, stumbling exchange... marked by misunderstandings... could you receive the intention without interpreting it?
The trip is shorter than on the way there, but barely more comfortable. A speaker right above my seat blares music and incantations the whole way... Halfway through, the same unusual stop in a village lit up and bustling as if it were daytime (Taddart, I think...). Along the main street, the ground is checkered black and white. Butcher stalls display entire beef carcasses... Smells of smoke and grilling... People are busy... Others, seated, are eating... in the middle of the night.
Arrival in Marrakech at 2 AM. Taxi strike, no room until tonight... Uh-oh! My backpack draws attention: a car stops and offers to take me for 80 DH... Trust... Five minutes later, I push open the door of *Le Toulousain*... The guard offers to let me finish the night on one of the lobby benches. I unfold my sleeping bag and slip into the desert’s scent... No sleep. But with my eyes closed, I see the stars... You came to pick up my bulky envelope.
Wednesday... Difficult early morning... Now, I feel dirty, my clothes bother me, my shoes hurt... Craving a long hot shower, wanting to find my body, wash my hair, put on cream, do my nails, and... It’ll be a long shower... cold! The hotel is charming but a bit run-down.
Clothes from 4 days...
Afternoon on foot in the quiet Hivernage district, searching for a childhood memory that may have changed names: the *Holiday Inn* hotel... I didn’t find it, or didn’t recognize it. Long stroll in the Menara Gardens, and return to the hotel at sunset...
Thursday... Last day... Wanting to see the Marrakech Museum because the founder was a friend of my father’s... So, the familiar route: the McDonald’s, the square with the fountain, Avenue Hassan II, Bab Doukkala... but this time, I pass through the ramparts, and in the old city—sensual, charming, enchanting—I get lost, found, and lost again... I tracked down the museum and the Ben Youssef Madrasa at the end of a maze of alleys... Followed scents of mint, olives, honey, and cinnamon... Savored, moved, the same donuts as in my childhood—golden fried dough rings with a hole in the middle, tied together with a blade of grass... (I don’t remember the name...) I filled my eyes with pretty things and exchanged smiles... Received, just like that... A gift... a ring for my little finger... Someone called out to me: "Hey, gazelle," and it made me happy...
.. Still lost!...
Afternoon in the sun in the Koutoubia Gardens. I finish my book—sand falls from between the pages...
.. Started on the plane... read in the desert... finished in Marrakech...
Melancholy of the last evening... So, on the way back to the hotel, I buy *kesra* and *La Vache qui Rit*...
Long, long sleepless night... Flight in a few hours... Happy to see the ones I love again, too.
Thoughts, emotions, sensations, images... Questions... One question... So, more than reason, going over and over the question... What there is to live, it’ll have to be lived...
The desert, a solitary path... like all paths that lead to the essential...
3:30 AM, your message, read by the metallic voice of a voicemail. And you, facing physical failure, past mistakes, fear... A solitary path. Also. Like all paths that lead to the essential...

Since I’ve been back, sometimes at night I open my eyes and don’t know where I am... Sleepless night, starry night, night of communion, connected night... In that suspended moment, between wakefulness and sleep, which makes you so receptive... Communion with whom? Connected to what? Lila gnawa... lila de derdeba.
The desert, a solitary path. You step in, and you’re immediately in the essential...
Wednesday... My companion drops me off at Orly Ouest... There are two hours before boarding. My MP3 player turns on but that’s it. It freezes—no commands work, and nothing fixes it... Smile... A trip without music, then? And the first anchor falls away.
(Photo...) ... Passport, tickets, receipts, labels...
Nose pressed to the window for the entire flight... Descending over Marrakech, at low altitude, a pretty mosaic—shades of pink and ochre dotted with green, but also, to the right, less harmonious, aligned cubes. Housing developments under construction? A bumpy, turbulent landing—the plane circles for a long time before touching down.
Welcomed by the familiar, unchanged sound of creaking doors and seats in the little taxis. In Casablanca, it was red Simca 1000s with meters; here, they’re yellow, and you have to negotiate the price. I have no talent for that, so here’s 100 DH!
Traversed and forgottenMarrakech... Sunny, luminous, sensual. Torn between tradition and modernity... Shimmering and fragrant, very noisy... rather polluted? On the road, horses and donkeys still mingle with vehicles... and watch out for traffic when crossing! It’s always a strategic—and athletic—adventure: at what exact moment do you sprint to the opposite sidewalk? And why aren’t any street names marked?
Afternoon on foot, heading to the Bab Doukkala bus station... A landmark: the McDonald’s, then a square with a fountain. Then turn left onto Avenue Hassan II. There’s a bus to Zagora Friday morning, but I can only buy the ticket tomorrow. On the way back to the hotel, at a kiosk on the corner, I buy *Tel Quel*, which I read with great interest online.
Thursday... Early morning, walking to Place Jemaa el-Fna, calm and almost deserted... I don’t get a good deal buying two small daggers for my kids. No talent for haggling—it takes more than charm for that... So I’ll pick the rest of my gifts at the artisan center on Avenue Mohammed V, where prices are marked, and it’s a pleasure to watch the craftsmen work... For my daughter, a satchel and earrings. The satchel smells like goat. The earrings are hand-chiseled in front of me by a very young man with nimble fingers—marvels of delicacy and fragility. Then I linger for a long time in the souk alleys. Scents of leather, thuya and cedar wood, wool and copper... Familiar smells... Childhood memories...
Dear daggersEarrings
Back at the bus station, an unexpected change: no bus Friday morning, but a departure tonight at 8:30 PM... I have a little time before packing, so I take a long detour: Boulevard de Safi, then right onto Avenue El Mansour to the Majorelle Garden... A quiet pause. Rare plants, all kinds of cacti—smooth, fuzzy, bristling with spines... strange, squat, or stretched-out shapes. An infinite variety of greens, and that famous blue... The song of birds, the sun and shadows playing in the water basins... Time flows lazily. I write postcards—they’ll arrive long after I’m back...

Back to the hotel. Avenue El Mansour, Boulevard Zerktouni—okay, but why are the small street names never marked?!! I get a little lost...
I hope you got my MMS, because before leaving, I left something for you at the front desk...
8 PM, night has already fallen. Arriving at the bus station, and then... Then, a step back... A dense crowd, a tangle of buses... Where to go?... Rare woman, lone foreigner, backpack... I’m quickly spotted, surrounded, poorly guided... Someone with a badge finally points me to the right sidewalk. The bus isn’t there, and the sidewalk is already packed, mostly with men. Will I even get a seat?... Three young men are particularly insistent... They want to know where I’m going and why, if someone is with me, if I’m expected... I answer with a smile. A bit tricky—choosing words, staying polite while evasive... Their French is hesitant, my Arabic is more than rudimentary... Actually, I shouldn’t have tried... Their tone becomes a bit... aggressive, and their eyes light up. Uh-oh... They say they’re students, but what of?... Want to know what I think of the Quran and Allah, what I think of holy war, if I’m "for the Americans," "for the Palestinians"... Other travelers intervene... And the bus still isn’t here... The speech turns fanatical... Then, my smile freezes a little... A small wave of panic, so I send a "freaked out" MMS... (But who else could I send it to?) Then, in this dark crowd, a light dressed in white... Nabila, a young student heading to Zagora for vacation, she speaks French... She plants herself in front of them and scolds them thoroughly. I didn’t catch everything, but it worked! The three troublemakers retreat. Plus, they weren’t on the right sidewalk, and their bus is about to leave without them...
Nabila and I manage to board and sit side by side... The bus leaves two hours late. The trip is long, a bit uncomfortable, slowed by many stops—it was very cold...
Friday... A little stiff, a little dazzled, a little chilled, arriving in Zagora at dawn with the sunrise... Magical! Craving something warm... And then, a heartfelt gift—kindness and hospitality—Nabila invites me to her home. Warm welcome from her mother and siblings, not at all surprised to see me show up so early to share their breakfast! A few hours in their company... We exchange addresses, and the youngest brother, Nouamare, gives me a children’s storybook...
Noon, at *La Fibule du Draa* Lahcen Sarti, the owner... I finally put a smile and a face to an email exchange... He shows me the trek route on the map, laughs when I tell him about my night on the bus, and sends me to rest by the pool... No swimsuit, so a lounge chair and a book... A book that will accompany me into the desert and which I’ll finish in Marrakech, in the Koutoubia Garden...

Saturday, Day 1... When I wake up this morning, I know the desert sand will also absorb my blood...
Early departure for four days and three nights, alone, as I wished, with a young guide, Mohammed, and a younger camel driver, Abdou. We’ll be together 24/7, and we won’t see a soul until we reach the fixed campsite on the third evening. Everything we need is loaded onto two dromedaries. And in those baskets, there are miracles—a *Prévert*-style inventory I’ll discover bit by bit, like... a tray for glasses, a basket for bread, a sugar loaf and small glasses for tea, but... large glasses and sugar cubes for coffee, spices, oranges, vegetables, raw eggs!... That won’t break, *La Vache qui Rit*... And so many other unexpected wonders, so surprising in the middle of the desert... (*La Vache qui Rit* is the desert butter. Every morning for breakfast, it was coffee with Nido powdered milk and *kesra* with *La Vache qui Rit* and Aïcha apricot jam... A delight.)

Start of the journey, and the beginning of a long, long walk... We’ll cover 80 km in three days, crossing all kinds of landscapes until the real desert of sand and dunes... I’ll drink water from wells, eat raw vegetables, sleep on a mattress that saddles the dromedaries by day... I’ll forget all the warnings and all my hygiene references... My body will quiet its complaints. No heat, no thirst, no fatigue, no trouble of any kind... just woken by the cold every morning around 6 AM... I take off my watch. Like my companions, I’ll live by the sun’s rhythm...
Abdou leads the dromedaries, so he walks at their pace. Sometimes, we’re grouped together. Sometimes the two guides are together, and I walk behind. Sometimes we talk. Nothing is forced, no discomfort. It’s a simple, harmonious dance—one foot in front of the other, following your shadow as it turns with the sun... Each step leaves behind the useless, the cumbersome, the superfluous... Room for intimacy... Room for silence... Room for the inner self... Facing yourself... I find seashells, and with my eyes closed, I smell the sea...
... One foot in front of the other...I take out my camera... Capacity for a hundred shots, but it’ll be 10 photos, no more. It freezes—no commands work, and nothing fixes it... Smile... A trip without photos, then? And the second anchor falls... I think of my MP3 player...
... A few photos among the ten...Noon... Unsaddling the dromedaries, which immediately wander off in search of food. And before the meal cooked by Mohammed, the mint tea ritual, prepared by Abdou in a tiny teapot... Thick, frothy, very sweet tea... He serves it on a tray with dates, peanuts, and raisins... And it’ll be like this every day, noon and night...
We gradually get to know each other... Mohammed, 25 years old... Calm, very introspective, almost ascetic, he knows the desert well and loves it... So at ease that he’ll walk in slippers or barefoot, no matter the terrain... When I’m behind him, the advertisement on the back of his sweatshirt makes me smile... There’s a date: January 8, 2003... A little wink from life? (I have a clear memory of that day.) Abdou, barely 20, with a round, jovial face. The mint tea master... When he hands me my glass, he says "Bismillah," and I respond in kind... A joker and a foodie. Thrilled that I only eat vegetables, he’ll have double the meat!
... Abdou and his teapot...
... Mohammed...Late afternoon, a well... Abdou waters the dromedaries, and Mohammed fills the canteens. The caps aren’t watertight, so he wedges a piece of plastic bag found in one of the baskets and screws it on top... Forget all hygiene warnings...
First night in a tent at the foot of Jebel Baní...
... JebelSunday, Day 2... Crossing and ascending Jebel Baní... A mineral, lunar landscape—rocks the color of burnt bread and anthracite gray. I pick up pretty pebbles, and Mohammed finds me a fossilized stone... Lunch in a deserted nomad oasis... When we resume our walk, the wind picks up. A wind that only blows in April, violent, terrible—the *Sahli*... Swirls of sand and gravel. Where’s the sky, where’s the earth... everything is dust, everything is yellow and opaque... The gusts are so strong they make us stagger. At times, we even have to crouch to avoid falling. In the acacia forest, Abdou and the dromedaries are only a few meters ahead, yet we can’t see them... We’ll later learn that on that day, planned excursions were canceled... That a group got lost and had to be picked up by 4x4... But Mohammed has a sense of the desert. He’s calm, he guides us... so we continue, and I trust him. He wraps a *chèche* around my head—a fragile barrier against these onslaughts... We have to keep moving, and it’s difficult... But the desert has accepted me, so without resistance, I accept it... And the sand gets everywhere... in my mouth, crunching between my teeth, in my eyes, ears, and nostrils... in my hair... A fine ochre layer covers my face and body, even under my clothes. I’ve become a sand woman... Communion... Fusion with the mineral. I absorb the desert’s prodigious power, just as the desert absorbs my blood...
We walked for four hours, pushed by this furious wind, before stopping for the night under an acacia... There, we had to set up the tent, which they did with difficulty. Then we had to weigh it down... So the utensils and the mint tea tray served as shovels to cover the edges with sand. Then Abdou took care of the dromedaries, holding one of their front legs bent with a rope to keep them from wandering too far... Then we brought everything into the tent and collapsed... but not for long.
Mohammed prepared kingly meals at noon and night with the wonders in the baskets: finely chopped raw vegetable salad, vegetable tagine, soup (and not from a packet!)... Even the canned sardines were garnished with thin orange slices... After this exhausting day for all of us, I told him that bread with *La Vache qui Rit* would be enough... He looked at me with a big smile and said his evening ritual phrase: "Now, Laurence, sit down, take your time, take your book..." He pulled his sand-filled utensils from the miraculous basket, his stove, some vegetables, and made us couscous (and not from a box!), couscous he rolled between his hands... Meanwhile, Abdou took out his sand-filled teapot, his sugar loaf, the peanuts, the dates... The mint tea ritual, like every day, noon and night...
Outside, the wind keeps blowing, stirring up sand whirlwinds... So I won’t go out like the other night to brush my teeth and hair. Just a wipe on my face to remove the dust... Mohammed turns off the gas lamp, and I curl up in my sleeping bag. The dromedaries have moved closer to my side of the tent, and the moonlight stretches their shadows on the canvas. They’ve settled in and make strange noises... We fall asleep very quickly...
Monday, Day 3... My two companions are still asleep when the cold wakes me at 6 AM, like every morning... Everything seems so calm—the wind has stopped... I untie the tent door and... A pure blue sky, gradually tinted with pink and flaming orange. The sun rises before my dazzled eyes. A day of light begins: no trace of yesterday’s storm, except sand... everywhere.
So, breakfast with sand... Then we shake out everything that can be shaken, sending clouds of dust flying... Then Abdou gives the dromedaries back their fourth leg, and we continue the journey.
After the expanses of stones and shrubs on the first day, the rocky ridges of Jebel Baní, and the acacia forest on the second day, the landscape changes, softens... We arrive in the desert as you imagine it, as you dream it, as you’ve seen in thousands of photos: endless golden dunes, in harmonious hollows and curves... The desert of sand... vast, fascinating...
Last meal for the three of us... Tonight, we’ll arrive at the fixed campsite, and we won’t be alone anymore. The break stretches on... So, a little apart on the smooth sand, I write a few words... an obvious truth... entrusting a secret to the desert. In a small box, I’ll bring back some of this magical sand...
.. A secret in the desert...Abdou grabs my notebook and draws the dunes. Mohammed draws Abdou and his dromedaries... I learn to do dishes with the contents of a single glass of water... A tiny bird lands on my bag... A bird!... in the middle of nowhere!... The dromedaries seem to relish the acacia branches, thorns and all...
Desert drawingsWe set off again... The dunes are higher... Easy to climb, the desert has sensual, feminine curves. A giant’s hand would fit its reliefs like a caress on a soft, supple body... The setting sun gives the landscape colors of amber and spices, cinnamon reflections... The sand offers me pink pebbles and pieces of white quartz that sparkle... I also find a black stone... Mystery...
Pink pebbles, fossilized pebbles, sparkling pebbles, and a black stoneLate afternoon, arrival at the fixed campsite at the foot of Erg Lihoudi... The guardian, Lahcen, a whirlwind of chatter and energy, welcomes us with mint tea. He quickly pegs me: "You do yoga, right?" He tells lots of anecdotes about his "clients," ending every sentence with: "No problem! *Machi mouchkil*... *Machi mouchkil*, no problem!" Around the tents, dozens... hundreds of big black beetles swarm on the sand... As I shudder, Lahcen gently picks one up and wants to put it on my hand: "*Machi mouchkil*! It doesn’t sting!"... I hold out a hesitant palm... Despite Lahcen’s infectious enthusiasm, I don’t like this last evening. Two groups arrived by 4x4 to spend a night in the desert... Noise of engines, cameras, voices, and exclamations... An intrusion into my bubble... I keep my distance... They’ll leave very early the next morning...
Memory of beetlesTuesday, Day 4... Standing still on a sand dune, I see both the full moon and the sun in the same sky... A luminous face-off. Magical, overwhelming... Then the moon paled, and the sun blazed brighter. It wasn’t quite night anymore, but day wasn’t far off... The Sacred, Mystical universe unfolded before me... A moment of grace that made my heart beat a little faster... Something indescribable gradually filled me, with infinite gentleness, to the depths of my soul... Facing this unlikely encounter, hesitations, reluctance, and fears seem so trivial... What are we if not fragments of this universe where everything is united... everything is connected...
Then comes the intention of a new message: "I’d love to put a face to..." But in this exchange scattered with misunderstandings, could you receive the intention without interpreting it?...
I stayed a long time on that dune, under the spell... Standing, barefoot and rooted... heart open... Receptive... in Unity between the infinitely small grain of sand and the infinitely vast universe... I hadn’t come to seek anything, yet the generous Earth offered its energy, its subtle strength to every cell of my body, and filled my soul with light... In exchange for this blood spilled on the sand over these four days?...
Give to Receive... Receive and Give... like a signed pact.
What exiled me from my life, disrupting all my bearings, drew me here... A necessary passage through space, withdrawal, and silence... for another birth?... The real desert after the symbolic desert... Pausing for a moment, as if at a crossroads. Connecting before continuing... If this path leads to the essential, then this path has a heart and will continue...
At the foot of the dune on the way down, I found a little Fatima’s hand made of beads. A gift from the desert...
Gift from the desert, good luck charm?Mohammed and Abdou leave Erg Lihoudi with other people—our shared adventure ends here... Emotion... looks and gestures speak louder than any words... Thank you, from the bottom of my heart...
Return to Zagora in a rickety, bumpy 4x4... After the track, we cross a vast palm grove... Shimmering colors, lush vegetation, palm trees growing in wheat fields... Tender green of the ears, faded green of the fronds, all shades of green contrast with the ochre and pink stone walls... My eyes rediscover green... My eyes rediscover colors... On a narrow path, the 4x4 finds itself facing a donkey carrying three children on its back... Impossible to pass. Who will back up?... Well, roaring progress bowed to four-legged tradition: in a cloud of dust, the 4x4 reversed for several hundred meters... The donkey passed calmly... On its back, the three children waved their hands...
Noon, arrival at *La Fibule du Draa*... Smiling welcome from Lahcen. He offers me a shower—I refuse... Even if he seems a little surprised, he has the delicacy not to show it too much... Strangely, I don’t feel dirty. Yet my clothes are the same, and my body hasn’t seen a drop of water since the day I left... But I want to keep the warmth and the smell of sand on my skin... reconnecting with forgotten, instinctive, animal sensations... So, I transfer my meticulousness and civilized conditioning to my bag... I take everything out, empty it, shake it... hunting down the smallest grain of sand... Futile effort! (I still find some today...) The afternoon stretches lazily by the pool... I contemplate my pebbles and make a lovely encounter...
The Zagora-Marrakech bus leaves at 7 PM... It’s the night of the full moon, and as soon as night falls, the sky fills with stars... Points of light without beginning, without duration, without end... Tiny lights so distant and so close...
Wanting to share this moment... And with whom else? If you look up, you’re the only one seeing the same sky as me. So, the intention of another message. But in this fragile, stumbling exchange... marked by misunderstandings... could you receive the intention without interpreting it?
The trip is shorter than on the way there, but barely more comfortable. A speaker right above my seat blares music and incantations the whole way... Halfway through, the same unusual stop in a village lit up and bustling as if it were daytime (Taddart, I think...). Along the main street, the ground is checkered black and white. Butcher stalls display entire beef carcasses... Smells of smoke and grilling... People are busy... Others, seated, are eating... in the middle of the night.
Arrival in Marrakech at 2 AM. Taxi strike, no room until tonight... Uh-oh! My backpack draws attention: a car stops and offers to take me for 80 DH... Trust... Five minutes later, I push open the door of *Le Toulousain*... The guard offers to let me finish the night on one of the lobby benches. I unfold my sleeping bag and slip into the desert’s scent... No sleep. But with my eyes closed, I see the stars... You came to pick up my bulky envelope.
Wednesday... Difficult early morning... Now, I feel dirty, my clothes bother me, my shoes hurt... Craving a long hot shower, wanting to find my body, wash my hair, put on cream, do my nails, and... It’ll be a long shower... cold! The hotel is charming but a bit run-down.
Clothes from 4 days...Afternoon on foot in the quiet Hivernage district, searching for a childhood memory that may have changed names: the *Holiday Inn* hotel... I didn’t find it, or didn’t recognize it. Long stroll in the Menara Gardens, and return to the hotel at sunset...
Thursday... Last day... Wanting to see the Marrakech Museum because the founder was a friend of my father’s... So, the familiar route: the McDonald’s, the square with the fountain, Avenue Hassan II, Bab Doukkala... but this time, I pass through the ramparts, and in the old city—sensual, charming, enchanting—I get lost, found, and lost again... I tracked down the museum and the Ben Youssef Madrasa at the end of a maze of alleys... Followed scents of mint, olives, honey, and cinnamon... Savored, moved, the same donuts as in my childhood—golden fried dough rings with a hole in the middle, tied together with a blade of grass... (I don’t remember the name...) I filled my eyes with pretty things and exchanged smiles... Received, just like that... A gift... a ring for my little finger... Someone called out to me: "Hey, gazelle," and it made me happy...
.. Still lost!...Afternoon in the sun in the Koutoubia Gardens. I finish my book—sand falls from between the pages...
.. Started on the plane... read in the desert... finished in Marrakech...Melancholy of the last evening... So, on the way back to the hotel, I buy *kesra* and *La Vache qui Rit*...
Long, long sleepless night... Flight in a few hours... Happy to see the ones I love again, too.
Thoughts, emotions, sensations, images... Questions... One question... So, more than reason, going over and over the question... What there is to live, it’ll have to be lived...
The desert, a solitary path... like all paths that lead to the essential...
3:30 AM, your message, read by the metallic voice of a voicemail. And you, facing physical failure, past mistakes, fear... A solitary path. Also. Like all paths that lead to the essential...
Parcours Casablanca-Agadir à vélo English translation pending
bonjour😉
je desire effectuer le parcours de casa à agadir en vélo.....au mois d aout...ce trajet est il agréable..en longeant l océan.? .n ya til pas trop de dificultes sur la securite routiére..???....ne serait il pas plus judicieux d effectuer ce trajet au départ d agadir vers Casa....en fonction de la direction du vent a cette saison.., , ??Quelle durée faut il prévoir....en parcourant 60kms par jour...et en prenant le temps de s arréter dans les différents lieux magiques du maroc??
JE VOUS REMERCIE DE VOTRE COLLABORATIONS ET DE VOS CONSEILS
JEAN MARIE😏
Circuit VTT de quinze jours au départ Marrakech? English translation pending
recherche des informations pour un voyage en vtt 15 jours 10kilos baguage en couple depart marrakech retour marrakech merci
Voyage itinérant au Maroc en juin prochain English translation pending
Bonjour!
Nous sommes en train de préparer un séjour de 10jours au Maroc en juin prochain pour notre voyage de noces. C'est la première fois que nous nous rendons dans ce pays. Aussi il nous est assez difficile d'avoir une idée de ce que l'on peut faire en 10J, et surtout à cette époque là de l'année où l'on nous a déconseillé de découvrir le sud (Ouarzazate, Merzouga, Zagora, Erg Chebbi, Erg Chigaga..) comme nous avions prévu au départ, à cause des températures qui seraient trop élevées..
C'est là que nous nous adressons à vous ! Qu'en pensez-vous ??
Vaut-il mieux découvrir la côte atlantique et le moyen Atlas+ Marrakech et Fes?? (sachant que nous arrivons et repartons de Casablanca)??
Nous souhaitons de toutes façons faire un voyage itinérant mais sans non plus courir après les sites touristiques. Nous préfèrerions découvrir paysages, habitants, culture, gastronomie, artisanat.. au fil de nos étapes et de nos renconstres..
Nous sommes ouverts à vos conseils, bons plans, coups de coeur, ....
Ah oui, nous avons prévu de louer une voiture sur place pour être plus mobiles..
Merci à tous ceux qui prendront le temps de nous répondre!
A bientôt
Conseils pour nos amis animaux du Maghreb English translation pending
Bonjour,
Je tenais à poster ce message pour vous dire de ne pas ramener de tortues terrestres et autres reptiles vivant des pays du Maghreb.
Ces animaux sont entassés et exposés dans des cages minuscules dans les souks, elles sont prélevées dans la nature et en les achetant nous contribuons à la disparition de l'espèce. De plus nos climats ne leur permettent pas une adaptation et elles meurent assez rapidement de rhinite. Mélangées à des tortues d'ici elles les contaminent et leur donne une mort certaine aussi.
Je vous rappelle également que l'importation est interdite et que vous risquez gros aux douanes (amende et emprisonnement).
Je vous apporte ce témoignage car j'ai vu tout ce que je vous dis auprès d'amis et sensibilisée j'ai donc fait des recherches sur le net.
Même si vous avez envie de craquer devant ces petites bestioles, dites vous qu'en sacrifier une en sauve des milliers..
Ces animaux sont entassés et exposés dans des cages minuscules dans les souks, elles sont prélevées dans la nature et en les achetant nous contribuons à la disparition de l'espèce. De plus nos climats ne leur permettent pas une adaptation et elles meurent assez rapidement de rhinite. Mélangées à des tortues d'ici elles les contaminent et leur donne une mort certaine aussi.
Je vous rappelle également que l'importation est interdite et que vous risquez gros aux douanes (amende et emprisonnement).
Je vous apporte ce témoignage car j'ai vu tout ce que je vous dis auprès d'amis et sensibilisée j'ai donc fait des recherches sur le net.
Même si vous avez envie de craquer devant ces petites bestioles, dites vous qu'en sacrifier une en sauve des milliers..
Parking pour camping-car à Marrakech? English translation pending
bonjour nous ( nous sommes 4 deux enfants de 2 ans et 3ans et demi )partons un mois au maroc en camping car mai juin .Je cherche à savoir ou on peux s'intaller à marrakech car je crois qu'il n'y a pas de camping .Peut on trouver un parking surveillé pour y rester 3 nuits?
Traversée du Maroc pour deux filles? English translation pending
bonjour, voilà je dois partir en aôut au maroc avec ma meilleur amie on va arriver a tanger.
On veut rester 3 semaines on a acheter le lonely planet et le routard
On va se déplacer en train et bus
on va descendre jusqu'a essaouira
si quelqu'un a des bonnes adresses à me donner ou des conseil n'hésité pas merci d'avance
De Lyon à Bamako en voiture English translation pending
Bonjour,
J'envisage de faire ce voyage début 2008, avec une berline via le Maroc et la Mauritanie. Pouvez vous m'indiquer l'itinéraire qui vous semble idéal à cette période en précisant les villes étapes que vous privilégiez.
Merci.
Excursions au départ de Marrakech English translation pending
Nous partons pour 1 semaine à marrakech au mois de mai
qui peut me renseigner sur les excursions à faire nous pas de visite de marrakech nous connaissons déjà
Ouzoud ? Vallée de l'ourika ? lac ? Essaouira ? Ouarzazate?
Que faire en préférence Est-il préférable de louer une voiture ou de prendre des excursions?
Merci🙂
Routes dans le Sud marocain en camping-car en hiver English translation pending
Nous envisageons un voyage au Maroc en novembre et décembre en camping-car (pas un 4x4 mais un gros capucine...)
Nous cherchons des infos sur la praticabilité des routes du Sud et du centre (montagnes) à cette saison. Peut-on passer par le col TIZI-N-TICHKA entre Marrakech et Ouarzazate par exemple. La route entre Tiznit et Tafraoute par le col du Kerdous est-elle ouverte ? Et la vallée du Dadés en hiver ?
Merci bien.
Nous cherchons des infos sur la praticabilité des routes du Sud et du centre (montagnes) à cette saison. Peut-on passer par le col TIZI-N-TICHKA entre Marrakech et Ouarzazate par exemple. La route entre Tiznit et Tafraoute par le col du Kerdous est-elle ouverte ? Et la vallée du Dadés en hiver ?
Merci bien.
Maman avec quatre enfants en voyage cet été au Maroc English translation pending
je souhaite partir cet été au maroc en camion aménagé avec les 4 gosses. tous les renseignements sont bons à entendre . la chaleur sur la route, les bestioles, les vaccins, l'eau, ou prendre le visa. je n'ai pas encore acheté le camion. camion ou camping car?
Projet de développement durable et solidaire au Maroc English translation pending
Bonjour, Nous sommes 2 collègues d'un grand groupe français, pour ne pas le citer E** et nous voudrions mettre en place un projet de développement durable et solidaire. Rachid, mon autre collègue, a une partie de sa famille au Maroc, d'où l'idée qui nous est venu de venir en aide à ce pays. Ayant découvert vos actions via votre site internet, nous nous permettons aujourd'hui de prendre contact avec vous afin de savoir si vous connaîtriez des associations qui cherchent un partenariat et pour qui nous pourrions être utile. Notre but est avant tout nous rendre utile, apporter aux autres ce qu'il est "normal" pour nous d'avoir (éducation, santé...). Nous voulons inscrire notre projet également en partenariat avec la société pour laquelle nous travaillons E**...et nous espérons pouvoir obtenir quelques aides logistiques grâce à cela. Si nous pouvons vous aider, ou si vous connaissez des personnes vers qui nous pourrions nous tourner nous restons à votre disposition. Au plaisir de vous lire. Bien Cordialement.
Séjour à Agadir: location de véhicule avec ou sans chauffeur? English translation pending
Nous sommes un groupe de 7 personnes et nous séjournons en avril sur agadir. Nous sommes à la recherche d'une location de véhicule avec ou sans chauffeur ainsi que quelques idées de déplacement pour découvrir ce pays
merci par avance de votre expérience
Tour du Maroc à pied en un mois en août English translation pending
Bonjour a tous.
Mon fiancé et moi meme avons prévu de partir faire le tour du maroc a pied cet été, nous arriverons a tanger par bateau début Aout. Nous avons décidé de voyager le plus simplement possible, le sac sur le dos, les yeux et les oreilles grands ouverts afin de ne rien louper de ce pays qui nous fait envie depuis deux ans déjà. Nous voulons avant tout envisager ce voyage comme un dépaysement, la recontre d'une autre culture et de personnes différentes. On nous a dit qu'il etait parfois possible de loger chez l'habitant, mais n'étant pas mariés je présume que cela sera difficlie pour nous. j'ai quelques petites questions a poser aux plus expérimentés 😛 pour la préparation de ce voyage...
* Combien devont-nous prévoir d'argent pour vivre par jour (nourriture et logement = nous ne sommes pas gourmands et ne recherchons pas le luxe ! ) ? Je sais que cela dépend énormément des endroits ou on se trouve mais bon, une estimation serait la bienvenue ! * Est-il possible de camper au Maroc, y a t'il assez de campings pour que cela vaille le coup de prendre la tente? Rapport a l'hotel niveau prix ? Quid du camping sauvage ? * Que voir ? Quelles villes ne faut t'il absolument pas louper ? Nous souhaiterions passer quelques jours dans le desert, comment trouver un guide vraiment simpa et pas arnaqueur qui nous emmenera passer quelques jours pour pas trop cher (en admettant que ca soit possible ;) ?
Voilà les petites questions que je me pose, tout vos commentaires sont les bienvenus car comme vous le voyez c'est le début des préparatifs et tout reste a faire !
Merci de vos conseils !
Passmoilciel !!! 😉
Mon fiancé et moi meme avons prévu de partir faire le tour du maroc a pied cet été, nous arriverons a tanger par bateau début Aout. Nous avons décidé de voyager le plus simplement possible, le sac sur le dos, les yeux et les oreilles grands ouverts afin de ne rien louper de ce pays qui nous fait envie depuis deux ans déjà. Nous voulons avant tout envisager ce voyage comme un dépaysement, la recontre d'une autre culture et de personnes différentes. On nous a dit qu'il etait parfois possible de loger chez l'habitant, mais n'étant pas mariés je présume que cela sera difficlie pour nous. j'ai quelques petites questions a poser aux plus expérimentés 😛 pour la préparation de ce voyage...
* Combien devont-nous prévoir d'argent pour vivre par jour (nourriture et logement = nous ne sommes pas gourmands et ne recherchons pas le luxe ! ) ? Je sais que cela dépend énormément des endroits ou on se trouve mais bon, une estimation serait la bienvenue ! * Est-il possible de camper au Maroc, y a t'il assez de campings pour que cela vaille le coup de prendre la tente? Rapport a l'hotel niveau prix ? Quid du camping sauvage ? * Que voir ? Quelles villes ne faut t'il absolument pas louper ? Nous souhaiterions passer quelques jours dans le desert, comment trouver un guide vraiment simpa et pas arnaqueur qui nous emmenera passer quelques jours pour pas trop cher (en admettant que ca soit possible ;) ?
Voilà les petites questions que je me pose, tout vos commentaires sont les bienvenus car comme vous le voyez c'est le début des préparatifs et tout reste a faire !
Merci de vos conseils !
Passmoilciel !!! 😉
Soins dentaires au Maroc English translation pending
😛Qui a déjà été se faire faire des soins dentaires au Maroc ? genre implant, couronnes etc...
Merci de faire partager votre expérience, surtout si elle déjà plus de 2 ans (c'est dans le temps que l'on voit le travail d'un bon dentiste), voir donner quelques adresses ?
Merci d'avance de la part de tous ceux qui ne peuvent pas se payer des soins dans leur propre pays.
Ergs importants dans la région de M'Hamid au Maroc English translation pending
J ai prevu de revenir sur M´Hamid, ou il y a qq années nous avions marché jusqu´aux dunes de Chegaga. Cette fois ci, j aimerai decouvrir un autre endroit de la même veine, et accessible en 2 jours de marche à partir de M´Hamid. Il y a differents ergs dans la région, Erg El Ghoul, Ebidliya, Dunes de Bougarn, Erg Lihoudi, Ez Zahar (dune hurlante). Sont t-ils aussi importants que Chegaga?, impresionnants?
Peut être n est t-il pas necessaire de descendre jusqu a M´Hamid pour profiter de telles dunes?
J attend vos conseils, et recommendations.
S'installer au Maroc English translation pending
😇Bonjour a tous,
je vis seule avec mes enfants a la reunion, je souhaite m'installer au maroc, j'aimerais avoir des renseignements de tous genre sur le mode de vie, le travail, les endroits agréable et pas trop cher ou m'installer plutot coté mer.. je ne cherche pas d'amoureux..
je vis seule avec mes enfants a la reunion, je souhaite m'installer au maroc, j'aimerais avoir des renseignements de tous genre sur le mode de vie, le travail, les endroits agréable et pas trop cher ou m'installer plutot coté mer.. je ne cherche pas d'amoureux..
Essaouira - Agadir à pied? (Maroc) English translation pending
Salut à tous,
j'envisage de partir d'essaouira en direction d'agadir en longeant plus moins la cote (bivouac + chambre d'hote). Certains d'entre vous ont ils déjà fait ca? J'ai vu que qu'il y avait des rando à cheval qui étaient proposées sur cet itinéaire, mais seulement d'avril à octobre.. L'un d'entre vous voit il une raison "météo" pour ne pas faire cela hors de cette période ou est ce juste une raison économique..
Merci pour vos réponses.
A+
yoyo38
j'envisage de partir d'essaouira en direction d'agadir en longeant plus moins la cote (bivouac + chambre d'hote). Certains d'entre vous ont ils déjà fait ca? J'ai vu que qu'il y avait des rando à cheval qui étaient proposées sur cet itinéaire, mais seulement d'avril à octobre.. L'un d'entre vous voit il une raison "météo" pour ne pas faire cela hors de cette période ou est ce juste une raison économique..
Merci pour vos réponses.
A+
yoyo38
Recherchons contacts au Maroc English translation pending
Tout d’abord, bonjour a tous,
Nous cherchons des contacts au Maroc:
Le Cabaret de la lune est une association qui a pour but l’échange interculturel a travers le voyage. Cellle-ci s'autofinance et ne recherche pas à faire du profit! Toute l’équipe (14 pers.) ai partie en voyage durant 8mois début novembre et traversera le Maroc, la Mauritanie le Sénégal et le Mali, avec 2 bus et une structure pour les spectacles. Au cours de ce voyage le cabaret proposera (entre autres), en partenariat avec les acteurs culturels locaux, des ateliers (jonglage, musique, energies renouvelables, enregistrements, ), des spectacles (marionnettes, musique, clown, ….), des salons de discussions.
Nous recherchons donc des personnes intéressées par notre voyage, au Maroc (jusqu'a janvier 2007 ) afin de pouvoir préparer un échange et proposer gratuitement notre spectacles plutot orienter surles enfants nous pouvons aussi proposer des seance cinema et des enregistrements pour les groupes de musiques. Toutes les propositions nous intéressent, alors n’hésitent pas ! 🙂🙂🙂
NOUS SOMME ACTUELLEMENT A KINITRA ET NOUS PARTONS POUR FES DANS UNE SEMAINE PUIS DIRECTION OUARZAZATE PAR L ATLAS DONC LES LIEUX PAS TROP RECULE PAR RAPPORT A NOTRE ITINERAIRE NOUS INTERESSE AVEC ACCES EN BUS (PISTE TROP ENDOMMAGE A EVITER MALGRES NOS EFFORTS° MERCI D AVANCE
LE CABARET DE LA LUNE
jp Mon mail : troquetgaite@yahoo.fr
Le Cabaret de la lune est une association qui a pour but l’échange interculturel a travers le voyage. Cellle-ci s'autofinance et ne recherche pas à faire du profit! Toute l’équipe (14 pers.) ai partie en voyage durant 8mois début novembre et traversera le Maroc, la Mauritanie le Sénégal et le Mali, avec 2 bus et une structure pour les spectacles. Au cours de ce voyage le cabaret proposera (entre autres), en partenariat avec les acteurs culturels locaux, des ateliers (jonglage, musique, energies renouvelables, enregistrements, ), des spectacles (marionnettes, musique, clown, ….), des salons de discussions.
Nous recherchons donc des personnes intéressées par notre voyage, au Maroc (jusqu'a janvier 2007 ) afin de pouvoir préparer un échange et proposer gratuitement notre spectacles plutot orienter surles enfants nous pouvons aussi proposer des seance cinema et des enregistrements pour les groupes de musiques. Toutes les propositions nous intéressent, alors n’hésitent pas ! 🙂🙂🙂
NOUS SOMME ACTUELLEMENT A KINITRA ET NOUS PARTONS POUR FES DANS UNE SEMAINE PUIS DIRECTION OUARZAZATE PAR L ATLAS DONC LES LIEUX PAS TROP RECULE PAR RAPPORT A NOTRE ITINERAIRE NOUS INTERESSE AVEC ACCES EN BUS (PISTE TROP ENDOMMAGE A EVITER MALGRES NOS EFFORTS° MERCI D AVANCE
LE CABARET DE LA LUNE
jp Mon mail : troquetgaite@yahoo.fr
Carte d'identité ou passeport pour le Maroc? English translation pending
J'ai deux sons de cloches différents concernant mon prochain voyage au Maroc : une agence de voyage m'affirme que je peux m'y rendre avec ma simple carte d'identité, et une autre me conseille d'avoir un passeport car pour le moment, c'est la carte d'identité qui suffit mais "avec le Maroc, on ne sait jamais, ça peut changer vite..." dixit la vendeuse !!!!
Qui croire ?
Qui croire ?
Il n'y a pas que le sud au Maroc English translation pending
quand on parle du maroc, on ne parle que de marrakech, essaouira, fez, ....et d'autres villes du sud, mais il y a le maroc du nord, le vrai, celui qui n'est pas encore envahi par le tourisme, celui qui est vrai, ou l'on peut vivre comme les marocains, là ou les paysages sont magnifiques, les gens accueillants qui ne sont pas encore touchés par le déferlement de charters chaue jour, oujda, saidia la plus belle plage du maroc, on l'appelle d'ailleurs la perle, et là ou le cout de la vie est beaucoup moins cher......
alors svp ouvrez vos horizons et cessez de penser que le maroc c'est marrakech
Recevoir du courrier au Maroc sans adresse fixe? English translation pending
Bonjour, je pars au maroc la semaine prochaine en camion et je compte y rester quelque mois pour visité le pays. Le problème de dernière minute qui me barre la route du départ est que mon assurance du camion ce renouvelle le 24novembre et que l'assureur ne veut pas me la donné à l'avance du coup il me demande d'attendre de la recevoir pour partir 😠.
Je me demande donc si il est possible de recevoir du courrier au maroc à savoir que je me ballade en camion donc aucune adresse fixe d'ou le problème de réception...
Recherche personne pour amener un colis de médicaments à Casablanca English translation pending
Bonjour,
Je suis français, je vais m'installer à Casa pendant un petit bout de temps. Mais le pb c'est que j'ai une maladie appelé mucoviscidose... peut être les gens connaissent.
Et je souhaiterai savoir si quelqu'un va au Maroc à Casa et pourrait m'amener un colis de médicaments (environs 10 kilos) (60*45*60). Ceux sont des compléments alimentaires en fait...
J'en ai besoin tous les mois et la poste me facture cela 100euros...
Si vous allez à Casablanca... plz contactez moi.
Prendre le ferry d'un port espagnol pour l'Algérie sans visa? English translation pending
est ce que cest possible de partir en espagne pour prendre le ferry de la bas jusqu'en algerie pour un marocain sans prendre un visa espagnol, ou bien sans faire toute la démarche du visa car elle est tres longue, et peut etre il me le donneront pas, vu que je ne sortirai pas du port???
est ce que c'est possible de prendre le ticket pour l'algerie a partir du maroc???
est ce qu'un visa de transit est facile a prendre?? et sinon qu'elle sont les papiers demander??
je vous remercie a un de ces questions ou plusieur si vous le pouvez.
cordialement
gavio
Conseils pour le Maroc en 4x4 au départ de France English translation pending
TOUT D'ABORS BONJOUR A TOUS,
c'est en navigant sur le net pour préparer mon voyage que je suis tombé sur ce forum, j'ai apprécié les divers postes et les reponses de tous, c'est pourquoi j'ai décidé de m'inscrire . JE NE SUIS PAS COMME BEAUCOUP UN GRAND VOYAGEUR !!! je ne suis jamais sortie de france, pas de temp pas de moyens, mais je vais changer tout cela. J'ai décider de faire un voyage au Maroc, moi, mon épouse et mon fils(15ans) avec des amis de toujours un couple et deux enfants (15 et 10ans). nous avisageons ce voyage, par nos propres moyens, nous avons de bons 4x4 recents, et sommes pret à bivoiqué ou au plus à camper si necessaire . Nous partons du centre de la france, et au départ nous envisageons deux etapes pour atteindre Algeciras, ( Vichy=>barcelone puis barcelone=> algeciras-tanger) aprés rien n'est defini, si vous avez l'experience d'un tel voyage, je suis dans l'attente de conseils: circuits, mais aussi papiers, ..... nos dates de départ sont 1 avril au 13/14 avril 2007 départ-retour de Vichy 03. je compte sur vous et vous remercie d'avance.
c'est en navigant sur le net pour préparer mon voyage que je suis tombé sur ce forum, j'ai apprécié les divers postes et les reponses de tous, c'est pourquoi j'ai décidé de m'inscrire . JE NE SUIS PAS COMME BEAUCOUP UN GRAND VOYAGEUR !!! je ne suis jamais sortie de france, pas de temp pas de moyens, mais je vais changer tout cela. J'ai décider de faire un voyage au Maroc, moi, mon épouse et mon fils(15ans) avec des amis de toujours un couple et deux enfants (15 et 10ans). nous avisageons ce voyage, par nos propres moyens, nous avons de bons 4x4 recents, et sommes pret à bivoiqué ou au plus à camper si necessaire . Nous partons du centre de la france, et au départ nous envisageons deux etapes pour atteindre Algeciras, ( Vichy=>barcelone puis barcelone=> algeciras-tanger) aprés rien n'est defini, si vous avez l'experience d'un tel voyage, je suis dans l'attente de conseils: circuits, mais aussi papiers, ..... nos dates de départ sont 1 avril au 13/14 avril 2007 départ-retour de Vichy 03. je compte sur vous et vous remercie d'avance.
Camping sauvage au Maroc en camping-car English translation pending
Desire me rendre prochainement au maroc en camping car. J'aimerais savoir si l'on peut faire du camping sauvage sinon y a t il des campings, si l'on peut faire les vidanges et plein d'eau.Au point de vue sécurité y a til des problèmes
Surf et escalade au Maroc English translation pending
bonjour a tous, nous partons au maroc a la toussaint et nous projetons, apres atterrissage a marrakech, d'aller a essaouira et ensuite dans les gorges de todra. j'aurais besoin de renseignements sur les liaisons (bus) entre ces differents lieux, sur les locations de matos de surf a essaouira, et sur les posssibilités de logements (chez l'habitant?).
merci beaucoup et a bientot
Bons plans pour un voyage de dix jours au Maroc fin octobre? English translation pending
😉Salut😉,
je pars au maroc le 23 octobre pendant 10 jours avec mon ami. Nous arriverons à AGADIR et irons en direction de MERZOUGA, puis ERFOUD. (deux-trois jours) Avez-vous de bons plans à me proposer? J'aimerai savoir où dormir et connaître les endroits à ne pas rater...
Merci d'avance... et à très vite.
je pars au maroc le 23 octobre pendant 10 jours avec mon ami. Nous arriverons à AGADIR et irons en direction de MERZOUGA, puis ERFOUD. (deux-trois jours) Avez-vous de bons plans à me proposer? J'aimerai savoir où dormir et connaître les endroits à ne pas rater...
Merci d'avance... et à très vite.