On the edge of the atlas

I did not get into the desert, although I dreamed about her: so beautiful songs of those who have sick with sands like others sick by the sea. Sugar remained a mirage, without coming out due to high satin mountains. But everywhere in Morocco does not leave you the feeling that, probably, lives in the desert. As if it was melted and froze in some noon century ago. For this here and go.

Morocco’s most popular resort on the beach of Atlantic – Agadir. Rebuilt with the whole world after a terrible earthquake, it looks like any resort of the middle hand. "Agadirs" In Moroccan villages, collective barns are called large global sheds, where everyone is stored together and dried the crop. In this agadium, the degree of WELL DONE tourists, a new portion of which is delivered every day from all over the world charters. If you go to Agadir, then in order to spend a few days in a decent hotel (the best of them – Dorint Atlantic Palace with a luxurious thalassotherapy center, a golf club and a casino), and the rest of the time to devote to trips. Because Genuine Morocco begins where the tourist area ends.

Even the ocean opposed a beach rest. In the mornings, the sky is tightened with clouds – this is the feature of the Agadir climate, which face the face of the mountains of the Canary current and the hot breath of the desert. The sun wins only to noon. Places for holidaymakers, ready to pay for the sun bed, separated from the water by the path, according to which the traders are moving, obsessively offering everything – from real tangerines to fake clocks ("Gucci! Cartier! Omega! Bulgari!"). There is still a strip "Dikarey", located right on the sand, pass through it how through the system. These are mainly Arab families – women of all ages in long dresses with countless boys, noisy and mischievous. Under the closer look, it turned out quite finely, but a little gather swim away, the lesor whistle is heard.

For hours to four ocean and it goes at all – retreats so far away that it is easy to reach the water of the bathing, it is easy to reach the water of AKI on Sukhu. Low tide.

Departed from the shore, the ocean shows his true temper. No wonder Atlanta is from here, from the water of the Atlantic, the mountains of Atlas. Our duck yachten swollen not for a joke. In addition, they promised a shark. To embarrass them, we had a fuel reserve, which is alone – and without any pitch – caused sea disease. But also storm. Three Frenchwomen, similar to each other like apples from one tree of a different crop and, accordingly, the degree of grinding – it was stoically silently on the nose at the table, which at the end of fishing was supposed to become a dinner. The pair of young Germans preferred waiting for fishing kubrick, the rest tried to sunbathe. Was windy, pretty cold and terribly nauseous. Finally, Tukhlyatina went overboard, and we went on all pairs to the fishing place. And then suddenly near the side something loudly slapped on the water. The tail, black long-laying head and smart eye. A pack of dolphins! Huge and completely crumbs, they tumble around, put the sun rubber shiny sides, looked at us, squeezing from delight, and then disappeared as unexpectedly, as appeared.

Fishing was proposed primitively – everyone was given on the bobbin of the fishing line, at the end of which three hooks sticking out. On them it was necessary to drive the kalems, lower the dirt in the water and wait until he would. Klevale often, but each time it was found that the hooks are empty – the bait is eaten, the fish sailed. I really missed this case, when suddenly on the hook, the fish was sized and woke out excitement. Especially since the team warned that we will be what they caught, and the French people were still silently sitting at the table. German caught three of all three hooks and completely satisfied with the title "Capitalist!", who was awarded the captain. We were responsible for us: the three fish will not feed everyone.

Sharks did not come. And maybe it is for the better: nothing preceded to enjoy bathing while the team was engaged in dinner. What was the disappointment when a home blank was filed – kebab. In response to a perturbed: "Where is our fish?", Kok cleared a few fish and fried them – fresh, bony, expiring fish fat. And then one of the Frenchwoman finally jumped up – her overtakes the sea. Mother and grandmother, without hiding disapproval, solemnly followed her. Europe Capitulized.

Have you ever heard the goats climb on the trees, like cats? I swear by Allah, I saw my own eyes like a hungry goat sealed a sickly village: one, intensely crossing the branch, even got to the top of the top, others chose the branches down and balanced on the hind legs, leaning on the front of the bunchery, the third stubborn.

Argan – a unique tree that grows only in Morocco. It clings to land on the very edge of the desert, where the juices lack even for grass. Local peasants use Argan without a residue – from the trunks make furniture, branches burn in the furnaces, leaves feed goats. But the main thing is the oil, the healing properties of which were still known to the ancient. Berber Method of oil manufacturing is incredible: To assemble nuts with prickly trees, there are camels along the landings, those eating nuts, and then people are crushed from the roads who have passed primary processing of fruits, dried, manually shuffle and pressure.

"Argan Orye! Olya Argan!" – Speakers shouting on the beach. The best medicine from the local evil sun is simply no (though).

In Marrakesh, Nesterpimo is hot. While the sun suddenly will not be covered by the mountains, the ancient capital is rolled up hot – 45 in the shadow one does not surprise. Here you dream about the breeze and surf agadir. Yes any pool will come down! Silent stones palace "El Badi" – There was a 90 meter swimming pool, and another 360 halls, a central heating system (this is in Africa, the XVI century) and everything is incredible: onyx from France, marble from Italy, granite from Ireland, ivory from India, gold plates on Walls. Builders paid so much gold per year as they weighed themselves. Palace built 25 years and 10 more – destroyed. Destroyed.

Poplared in the palace "Bahiya" – here orange garden and fountains. Palace built a great view of Sidi Musa for her beloved wife. One of twenty four, not counting concubines. "Marry (Inach, – says Koran, – let them be two, and three, and four. And if you are afraid that you will not be fair, then on one". In former times, the husband could say the boning wife that she is no longer needed, and she should immediately disappear – what is. The laws have changed, and the habit remains – under the bedspreads hiding the face and figure, women wear many jewelry.

According to the legend, gold, which was removed from himself one of the wives of Sultan Yakub al-Mansur, was enough for four balls crowded by the famous mosque "Kutubia". It was her repentance for the curd during the sacred post of Ramadan. Ancient astrologers assured the balls at the top only due to the influence of the planets. All this, of course, the fairy tale – the balls are made of gilded copper and securely fixed. But people believed this fairy tale and went to the marriage for gold. Fairy tales in general, the fantastic, the more convincing, – this law is well known to the observant (there is such a profession in Morocco). On a huge and always damaged by the people of Jema-El Fn, you can listen to funny or sad, poetic and romantic stories, who happened that yesterday, or in the days of al-Mohad. In the afternoon, snake corders, fakirs and dancers are warmly working for tourists who willingly give coins for exotic. In the evening, the square fill the men – silently play checkers, roll balls, fried meat, peer in Tarot cards. As if time went to count the days, years, centuries ago.

Under the cover of heaven

The desert is far behind the high satin passages. The narrow track of the serpentine is wrapped around the mountain, and the spirit captures from one glance down. Suddenly, before his eyes, the motley tent appears – the earth is used to carpets, the walls and the ceiling are also made of them. The travelers do not drink water: it’s even more you want to drink from her, they drink tea – cold on the road, burning-hot and shyly sweet. On the small chairs put a pinch of black tea, a bundle of fresh mint and a dozen sacket sugar.

A few more hours of the journey, and the pink Berber village admitted to the slope meets the guarantee pulling melody and the fighting. Then there will be hot cakes and honey, tagge – ceramic vessels with a high lid, where the chicken was languished, seasoned with lemon, and sweet cous-cous, which is supposed to eat hands, deftly rolling in balls. And a long hypnotic dance of women moving under the accuracy of rhythm, links to tact with massive silver jewelry. So increasingly knocking blood in temples when you love.

"Starting from a certain point, the return is impossible. This is the point you need to achieve", – Epigraph from Kafka in an amazing sad novel "Under the cover of heaven", whose action occurs in sugar. Before this point was still far away when the black and prepapped sky fell from above – all the covered Darkness Moroccan.

Each city in Morocco has its own color. Marrakesh – red, hot. Es-Savira – White Blue, Windy. Much more European: she was built by a Frenchman, and he tried very hard – Sultan released him from prison, and if Vladyka did not like the beauty and defensive power of the fort, would have to finish their days on the plate. On the walls there are neighboring Jewish Kabbalistic symbols and Arabic liners from the Quran, French signs and American advertising. And tourists are different – loners, living in colorful old hotels without electricity and tiny guesthouses, where you can even remove the slurry on the roof, so that, barely opening your eyes, drown the look if not in the sky, then in the ocean. They dine on the pier of the freshest, just caught and frozen (yes yes!) fish and know a sense in antiques. Even merchants in Es-Savier are almost not traded, but do not like – can and refuse.

We looked into some of the arches and found an adorable restaurant with wicker chairs and white tablecloths. Very empty – only the elderly lady of the European species, sitting at a table with a cup of coffee, caught hand. When he was heard that we are Russians, immediately moved to the native. Maria Alexandrovna was born in emigration, in Paris. The architect works in different countries, there is her work and in Moscow. And Es-Savira is a big love. Arriving once, she could not leave. Bought a house and settled.

Maria Alexandrovna led us to where tourists do not go – in the small galleries of artists, in the Arab quarter, where children rush to kiss in greeting, and amazing mosaics on the walls, carved cedar panels on ceilings, vintage carpets and lamps are hidden in greetings , covered with wrapped skin with thin pictures, as on the feet and palms of local women.

To buy all this, take a piece of Morocco, – I dreamed.

Suk Bulil Despite the midday heat. The market is the same main thing as a mosque. It is even in the names of the cities: for example, a bitter-straight, which means "Bazaar on Tuesdays". The greater the city, the more the market: in the marker they are with a dozen – carpet, tin, copper, leather, wooden, gold, vegetable, meat smoothly flow into each other. But you do not give you to get lost – someone immediately appears from the crowd with a guide, and offers to spend. Naturally, for the appropriate remuneration.

All the fuss of your goods, and you just look like a look at something like you drag in a lavage. And how I wanted to consider and memorize the noble drawings of Berber carpets, dim shine of embellished leather, carved wooden boxes and ceramic plates, heavy silver, in the rudeness of which charm of wildness. It remained plucked to breathe unusual flavors of spices, pyramids of fastened on the shelves, quit a quick look at the marine melons and watermelons, dodged right on Earth, Mountains of Eggplazans and Zucchini.

And then I noticed something, I could not just pass, – the table in which the sun, the ocean, mountains and the desert were hidden. Morocco is famous for a special mosaic – a stone or tile here are broken into a lot of small pieces and then they collect again in bizarre patterns. The table was big. Probably very heavy. And most likely dear.

"How much?" – I asked automatically. The price exceeded the amount that was in my pocket. I turned away. "How much will you give?" I divided the digit trip. He threw the third. I added Piglet. He shut down as much. As soon as I turned to go away, he immediately lowered the price, which eventually approached something like the truth. "Stop, – persuaded the inner voice. – How do you drag this severity?" "You can take one tabletop, this is a lightweight option – it is from the inside, it is not filled with concrete, and at home will order the legs, – as if I read my thoughts of the shopkeeper and immediately removed the tabletop. She was hard. – Your last price, Madame?" – "180". – "201". – "180 and all". – "200". – "180". – "195". – "180". He realized that I really didn’t give and waved my hand. The table began to wrap, and we, tired by the bargain, sat down to drink tea. Mosaic quickly disappeared under the cloth and cardboard. "All right, madame. Ali reports the table to a taxi. Give him something – he has five children". Chumazy Ali grabbed the rope to the teeth and raised in the air Mahine. The teeth were brown, and there were few. I desperately waved my hands: Of course I will pay. "Barack Allah Ufik" – Forgated merchants with me.

Actually, to reduce you "Barack", That is, the divine grace, you need to make a pilgrimage to the grave of the saint, collect the land there and keep it as a relic, but the wish you often hear in the market.

Until the end of the rest, the table lived in the room and tormented me – I imagined with horror, what he he was heavier, and there will be no porters, and big – no, still small to eat for him. And most importantly, I completely forgot what color it is. However, it was no matter – all the same at the airport will be disassembled. When a hated tabletop has moved for a luggage rack and I wandered in Duty Friend, someone from the travelers caught up with me with a question: "It’s not your table there fell?"

. And the table was beautiful. The right size and color. Sun, ocean, mountains and an unknown desert are hidden in it. And since we attached legs to him, I think about Morocco every day.

You can get to Morocco with one of the European airlines with a transfer in Europe (about $ 1000), regular flight "Aeroflot" to Casablanca (from $ 600), and there to transfer to local airlines. In the season there is a charter Moscow-Agadir.

The climate is very diverse here, there is everything – from the desert to ski slopes. At the Atlantic Season begins in May and ends in October.

Spilled French, English owns only staff in good hotels. The star hotel is usually slightly lower than the stated, our own beaches are only the best. Beach towels are not provided, like hair dryers. Voltage may be 220, and 110 volts, so it is better to take the adapter.

Dirham national currency (DH) is approximately $ 0.1. Export of currency is prohibited – everything must be spent on the spot. For all minor services you need to give small tips.

In Morocco, two types of taxi – Salt tramps of orange color put three people. The fare of the city usually does not exceed the DH30-50, but you need to remind that the driver turns on the counter. Big taxi hire if the passengers are a big company and for long-distance moving, there are no counters and need to negotiate the price in advance.