just one more

To get to Dade’s gorge we had to take a bus from Ouarzazate to a place called Boulmane De Dades, and from there, a grand taxi into the gorge and the village of Ait Oudinar.

Given our bad luck with grand taxis in remote locations we decided to call our next hostel and see if the could arrange something, before we left Ouarzazate. We got through to someone who didn’t speak much English but was able to arrange a taxi to pick us up from Boumalne for only 100d.

We caught our bus and arrived in Boumalne four hours later, where we were met at the bus stop by the guy from the phone, Ibrahim.

On the drive up through the gorge, Ibrahim did not shut up, so his frequent stopping for photos was a god send. The gorge itself was quite picturesque and there were some spectacular hotels with what we assume would have been breathtaking views.

We were a little bit confused because Ibrahim’s car had a whole lot of tourism signage on it and he vibed like your typical tour guide, rather than a taxi driver but he was definitely the guy who answered the phone when we called the hostel and he took us to the right place… All the details, pictures and location matched the guidebook and website so we just figured he ran tours as well.

He checked us into a lovely room with an awesome view and we met him downstairs for mint tea…

Where he revealed to us that it was 100d per person for his “taxi” and there were no walks in the gorge and we would need his taxi, at a cost of 300d per day to get anywhere. Also he wanted us to pay for everything, including the return taxi, in advance.

This was in stark contrast to what our guidebook said…. The owner of the hostel was supposed to be very helpful with walking tours and information… But this was definitely the same hostel with the same phone number and he was definitely the guy who answered.

We grudgingly paid him for the room and the first taxi ride but told him we didn’t need him for anything else… He’d left a bad taste in our mouth and we just wanted to avoid him as much as possible, which was hard, given he kept appearing at dinner time to yammer at us and try to convince us to pay him in advance for the return taxi we didn’t really want.

We had a full day in the gorge (the 9th.. My birthday) and we had no problems walking around without a taxi.

The gorge was quite beautiful and during our hike we picked up a friend who followed us for a couple of hours.

We named him Mycroft and enjoyed his company while we had it… He reminded us of our own dog (Sherlock), but if I’m being honest he was probably better behaved. (The similarity to Sherlock ended when we tried to give him some muffin and he didn’t eat it – Penny).

We couldn’t find any lunch in the gorge, or even any shops for food or water… nothing was open, and we refused to pay any additional money to Ibrahim so we just ate some food we’d brought with us for lunch (dinner and breakfast were included in the room price).

The other thing we couldn’t find was an abundance of taxis… We spoke to some other guests and they all had private transport so we realised we were going to be forced to use Ibrahim again for taxi services.

I was pretty unimpressed with him by this point because I’d worked out that he didn’t have anything to do with the hostel. He was just some scammy tour guide. The real owners of the hostel didn’t even know what room we were in, which explained why we had no hot water, the power points didn’t work and no one else was staying in our wing of the building… We had also been told there was no internet, which of course, there was… You just had to go to a specific spot in reception.

When i finally located the owner of the hostel, she was completely disinterested in dealing with us and didn’t speak any English anyway. I still don’t know why Ibrahim is the one who answers their phones but we were sick of dealing with him and couldn’t wait to get out of there.

Our next stop was supposed to be Todra gorge, a similar (but more expensive) spot with some rock climbing and more challenging hiking… We were a little bit apprehensive of being stuck in another remote location with no hot water, no internet and at the mercy of an unethical hostel manager, but we were still keen to visit Todra…

Until we woke up the next morning and it was raining… Quite a bit. It was 7am and we made a snap decision, with the assistance of the newly discovered lobby internet, to race back to Boumalne De Dades and try to jump on the early bus to Ourzazate and then on to Marrakech and Fez… We hoped we might be able to adjust our flights to give us some extra time in Dubai but we had no idea if that would actually work.

We got the (newly discovered) hostel owner to ring a taxi, which unfortunately turned out to be Ibrahim and we raced back to Bulmane and fast as we could go, which wasn’t very fast because he drives like morgan freeman.

On the way back down the rain got heavier as he quizzed us about our changed plans. Sick of hearing his inane voice, our responses were curt and to the point.

Drive fast…We need to make the early bus to Ouarzazte.

At the turn off to Boulman he tried to go the wrong way and when we corrected him he looked confused and asked:

I thought you wanted me to drive you to Ourzazate?

We yelled at him and pointed exactly where we wanted to go but it wasn’t enough. We missed the bus by 5 minutes.

The next one wasn’t due for 5 hours.

Oh and then it started to snow… For the first time in 10 years.

We were cold, wet and miserable, but also strangely happy, as we were free from Ibrahim and we knew we’d never have to see him again.

We walked up the hill to the local bus station and a tout asked us if we wanted to get to Ouarzazate. I said yes but told him we couldn’t afford a taxi… He told me it was only 50d each.

I could have kissed him.

He took us up the hill and put us in the grand taxi with another guy… He had told me it would leave straight away but they don’t… They wait until they are full (6 people plus the driver!).

After 10 minutes I asked him how many people were still needed, and he said only 2. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ibrahim pull up in his taxi. He got out and started to talk to the various taxi drivers… friendly with all of them. I couldn’t hear him but I could imagine his voice, like scratching nails on a chalkboard. My spline itched and my skin crawled… I wanted us out of there.

I found our tout and asked again… How many more people do we need?

just one more

he says… so I offer him another 50d for that spot, as long as we leave right now. He agrees and we get in the taxi, just penny, me and the original first guy. The door opens and the last passenger gets in.

I don’t need to tell you who it is… I know you saw it coming.
But we sure as hell didn’t.

We had to listen to him yammer away for four hours… We could hear him the whole time and we understood enough French to know he was telling the driver all about us. Once he finished that he spent the rest of the trip arguing with the driver and the other passenger.

I could tell from the way they responded to him… The gestures and body language. It wasn’t just us… He truly was an irritating jackass.

When we finally got to Ouarzazate, he tried to get us to pay 500d for the same taxi to take us all the way to Marrakech. We ignored him and went straight to the CTM bus station, where we finally got a win.

It was 11:55 and the bus we had missed by 5 minutes in Boumalne was just about to leave for Marrakech. The taxi had passed it… And there were still tickets available.

We bought them without hesitation and got straight on as the bus was about to leave… We had no accommodation booked and no idea about the viability of changing our flights, but I knew as soon as the bus pulled out of the station we would never see Ibrahim again.

And we didn’t.
For real this time.