Eventually the cars were out of the containers and we were on the road back to Fez. The trip was uneventful except for Hans and his steering that was giving him grief. There are two toll gates on this road. One is a fixed rate: 20 dirams and the other depending on the kilometers travelled.
They drove straight to Fatimah’s house to pick their stuff and try to put her house back in order. They clocked in at the camp site, chose their spots and started unpacking while the ladies did the formalities.
This is the Diamant Vert camping site. A well laid out place with lots of very old trees. The local public swimming pool is in the same compound and during summer they have constant animation there – loud music mainly. This goes one from late morning up to 22h30. If you are lucky the DJ’s will take a break at around 19h30 and you can breathe again.
The ‘facilities’ are what they are, this is the best they will get this side of the equator. As for many things in Morocco, this one was no exception – there is this sense of neglect in all manner of maintenance: leaking taps, broken showers and toilets. Otherwise, they made themselves very comfortable. I was removed and parked in the corner of the tent where I could see the passer by’s.
The place was not packed with people but there were all sorts: French, Belgians, Italians, us… and each with their own style of camping. Coen found it was too hot and noisy to have a nap. He was very tired after unpacking and setting up camp but went shopping with her anyway.
The menu for the evening was b’stilla (the one she had ordered and was in the freezer at the house) and salad. When asked if she would join us, Fatimah said rather to come eat at her place since they just set up camp and are not totally organized.
So, the evening was spent there. The b’stilla was rather enormous and tasty but also a bit dry and crumbly.
The next day was mostly spent sorting out the crates, boxes and organisation of the car while the men went off to sort out car issues. After a quick lunch, warmed on the ‘cob’, there were last minute shopping to be done and then Elismé was preparing dinner. Fatimah and Ahmed were invited to share this first dinner in the camp.
On the menu was cob-roasted chicken with braai sandwiches. It was rather late when they came back with the chicken, so it was cut up and stashed on the cob. It was not looking great for a while but then it was roasting beautifully when Fatimah and son arrived. After this most complete dinner, we said our farewells and went to bed.
The next morning saw us with packing the car after a quick breakfast of coffee and rusks. Then, we were off on the road south.
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