Just walking

At the end of October 2023 I was talking with my friend that the last place I want to visit is Africa. Not that I have anything against it but rather that there are other places I long to see and breath again. Yet, 2 weeks later I was flying to Marrakesh, with my oldest son, my friend and a cheap ticket :).

[ Atlas Mountains, Marrakesh & Morocco, November 2023 ]

Plan was rather simple - land in Marrakesh, pick a transport to Atlas, wander there for 4 or more days, touch the top of Toubkal and spend 2-3 additional days in Essaouira or Marrakesh.

[ driving through the earthquake-damaged foreland of The Atlas ]

All went well, fueled with a lot of positive freedom and gave me a bit more needed confidence on unorganized trips to unknown lands like this :). Plus it spawned some small stories and thoughts I as always invite You to read.

[ on the way to Refuge du Toubkal, High Atlas Range ]

Atlas definitely has its own uniqueness. At first I was fooled a bit by some small resemblances to Nepal & Himalayas. Colorful villages and resting spots, importance and visibility of religion. And that “high mountain” vibe. Yet it’s not similar. It’s different. Different by very rocky formations, scarce vegetation and specific colors of surrounding slopes. Different by people and somehow different sun.

…wind and around -12 Celsius perceived temperature. 30 minutes from Toubkal summit. That wasn’t planned ;) yet the view of that distant land, with small settlements, curvy roads, and ruins of the long gone past made up for all the effort.

[ around 4000 meters, looking south-east ]

At that moment I wasn’t yet aware that soon most of my thoughts from that trip would be rounding decay & entropy. But moment’s like this - looking at that small blue shelter we wanted to stay in built these emotions silently in the back of my head.

[ a closed, and from what we heard slightly damaged shelter near the waterfalls]

Coming to this small, remote village struck by the recent earthquake we saw almost normal, day to day life. Routines with cattle, school, prayers etc. Good breaks in the warm setting sun. I now recall an idea we’ve talked about back then with my friend Michal. That illusions allow us to function in society. Or should I say optimistic intuition? It’s hard to be that next random tourist and not to compare our different lives and possibilities. But only I have that distant, “better” view. So maybe these aren’t illusions but just different, normal realities? And maybe I’m missing some positive values they see as good, normal life?

A little story. With evening just around the corner I urged my son for a short walk to see a nearby mosque. And just as we started walking we happened to be surrounded by a few 7 to 11 year old kids wanting to help us no matter what we did.

[ Tizi Oussem village, High Atlas ]

So without any common language to speak together, we somehow explained to these kids we wanted to see their church. And the short walk started, amplified by a lot of laughter, smiles and silly mistakes in all these attempts to “talk”. Yet just as we made the first few steps to our destination another emotion crawled in. Sadness. Sadness in seeing all the damage done by recent quakes. Sadness in understanding that these were the houses of these kids that accompanied us…

The Boy you see here even stopped for a second, by the house next to the one You saw in the previous photo. And with the same pure, bright smile said that it was his home... Damaged even harder than You just saw… I couldn’t take a photo of that house. That was too much. Yet at the end of our walk I asked him for his photograph. To remember that moment and his face.

Kids will always be kids, in this optimistic, illusional and brave way we adults too often forget exists.

[ for more info on the cause of what You see here check this link ]

At first it was this kind of disturbing, open, alienated space that brought my attention. These buildings, standing in an open, empty field, with very little happening between them. A bit like dried trees in the desert. Like a mockup of urban planning without any figures resembling life. But that’s not what I want You to focus on. Look deeper.

[ N8 main road to Essaouira ]

I’ve seen that already in Poland, Nepal, etc. But trash [ and that’s my topic here ] was usually only by the road. Only close to natural communication ways or just by the buildings [ as I often saw it in Asia ]. Here it’s different. It continues for hundreds of meters deep into the land, up to the point it’s just hard to see.

…

[ on the way to Essaouira ]

The only asphalt street in this small city being a country’s main road with all the traffic and hustle doesn’t mean You can’t practice newly acquired roller skates on it. Especially when You are 12 years old. That just rocks!

This deep penetration of garbage is not just a single spot on the long way. It’s the opposite. It continues for tens, if not hundreds of kilometers along the road to the coast.

What if that’s something we will need to adapt to in the not too distant future? To this Soil 2.0. New type of land. Altered in not only a chemical way like it happened for more that 100 years with fertilizer but in a visual way too. Altered but still bearing its fruits. Is it a new change, a new version or is it a decay?

[ Essaouira by Atlantic Ocean, P.S. I so love this photo ]

It is a strange, hard to grasp space. With all its color, energy, people and that warm sun. And with all that natural destruction, rocky landscape, all years of decay and all human made degradation. Intuition tells me it will improve, as I already saw that kind of “phases” in other developing countries. They will just need some time.

For me now though it’s this “colorful entropy” idea that brings back all that mix of images to my mind.

Was looking for that buzz. For that tempo. And for that light breaking through wooden ornaments. I know it’s a bit too stereotypical but seeing these crowded North African streets was so satisfying. And that kind of magic happened only on the last day, just before we left for a plane. Hunt it for yourself.

[ for more historical photos of these “veins” called souks, check this link ]