“It’s weird, he keeps coming along and giving us food” – a Canadian backpacker we had met anxiously and suspiciously complained to us one day about the generosity of Moroccans.
She and her boyfriend had been wild camping in the desert and a local man had dropped by with meat and fruit every other day.We tried to explain that he wasn’t expecting money or anything even more sinister, it is simply Moroccan hospitality at its finest.
We have seen the level of generosity first hand as well. In N’kob we stayed at the wonderful Auberge Ouadjou campsite – our favorite so far, partly because it was the first time we have camped on grass in months but mainly because of Mohammed, Idhir and Danielle.
Danielle is French and a regular visitor to Morocco and the Ouadjou campsite. As a thank you for Geoff giving her a lift to the nearest ATM (70km away), we were invited to dinner with Idhir – part owner of the camp and a fine cook, Mohammed, who works at the camp and Danielle. It was delicious.
The next day, at Mohammed’s invitation we went for a picnic, weaving through the back street maze of N’kob, along the water channels of the palmerie and out to the shade of an acacia tree in a dry riverbed.
Guiding us through the back streets on the way to the picnic
Walking through the palmerie
Our acacia tree picnic spot
Mohammed magicked a huge rug from his backpack, teapot, glasses, kebab skewers and turkey to stick on them; bread and olives, complete with acacia thorn toothpicks, plucked fresh from the tree. Hefty flat stones made tables and kitchen tops.
Olives with acacia tree thorns as toothpicks
Our picnic under the trees
Moroccan salad was sliced and diced on the stone and turkey brochettes and a teapot were soon sizzling and bubbling on the fire.
Freshly made salad and this morning’s baked bread
Just as we finish eating, the recycling arrives!
The big shaggy Moroccan goats liked Mohammed’s cooking too!
Just because he was a fine looking goat
It was a lovely afternoon, topped off with an invitation to have tea at Mohammed’s mum’s house.
We heard another story of a German couple who are walking across Morocco with just day bags. Each evening they stop at a village and ask if anyone will feed and house them for the night for a few dirhams payment – they have not gone hungry or sleepless yet.
Much is said of how you might be endlessly hassled and possibly ripped off in Morocco. Not enough is said about how ready people are to greet you, chat, share what they have and to welcome you into their home.
“Ten merte and shokran”, Morocco! (Berber and Arabic for “Thank you” – sorry about the spelling!)
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