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On the road to the Sahara

Sweet almond oases, wind swept mountains, lute-playing paratroopers, Keith Richards lookalikes, a pyramid man and Billy The Kid Elliot – just some of the places and characters we have encountered.
Just outside Tafraoute is a picture perfect oasis – complete with a well, almond blossom and palm trees.
An idyllic watering hole - the well, almond blossom and palm trees make a picture postcard

An idyllic watering hole – the well, almond blossom and palm trees make a picture postcard

Well, well.

Well, well.

A traditional Berber village near Tafraoute

A traditional Berber village near Tafraoute

 

It was a beautiful and tranquil spot. The delicate blossoms were soon replaced with craggy windswept mountains as we crossed the Jebel Bani and head toward the desert.
The drama of the geography never gets old

The drama of the geography never gets old

Heat and sand in the foreground, snow-capped mountains in the distance

Heat and sand in the foreground, snow-capped mountains in the distance

The ever-changing landscape of Morocco is a daily delight, altering sometimes by the hour as we travel, from the high sided canyons of the Ait Mansour gorge….
The setting sun glints through the palms of Ait Mansour Gorge

The setting sun glints through the palms of Ait Mansour Gorge

Homes melt into the mountain in Ait Mansour gorge

Homes melt into the mountain in Ait Mansour gorge

 

A sweet almond welcome to the start of the Ait Mansour Gorge

A sweet almond welcome to the start of the Ait Mansour Gorge

At the end of the Ait Mansour gorge

At the end of the Ait Mansour gorge

to the surprising oasis in a gully barely visible just a few feet away…..
The desert floor above

The desert floor above

The oasis below, with houses and animal pens

The oasis below, with houses and animal pens

We found this lush oasis with three houses in the bottom of a canyon in the middle of nowhere

We found this lush oasis with three houses in the bottom of a canyon in the middle of nowhere

 

to the endless skylines of the Atlas Mountains.

 

The wind fashions the rock into great grooves and gullies

The wind fashions the rock into great grooves and gullies

Just one part of the Atlas mountains

Just one part of the Atlas mountains

Too cute - wild white baby camels

Too cute – wild white baby camels

 

More switchbacks to turn and mountains to climb en-route

More switchbacks to turn and mountains to climb en-route

In some parts of the mountains, women almost only ever wear black

In some parts of the mountains, women almost only ever wear black

Coming home from the market

Coming home from the market

History and hardship is etched on his face

History and hardship is etched on his face

Age, authority and groovy green specs

Age, authority and groovy green specs

 

Desert sands, mountains, palms, earth brick houses and a sat dish…. Sky Sports anyone?

Desert sands, mountains, palms, earth brick houses and a sat dish…. Sky Sports anyone?

 

We stopped for a couple of nights at Agdz – a pivot point from which you can head north toward Marrakech or, in our case, south to the desert.
Attached to our campsite is an ancient kasbah being renovated by the family who have called it home for generations.
It's hard to imagine the building is centuries old

It’s hard to imagine the building is centuries old

We have been confused about the difference between a kasbah a, riads, ksars and such like – so now we know, we can pass it on.
A kasbah is a walled private house.
This courtyard was oringally the kitchen, hammam and stables

This courtyard was originally the kitchen, hammam and stables

A riad is a walled garden with trees. It has become synonymous with a guest house these days, especially in Marrakech, but a night in a real riad will leave you outside hugging a fruit tree!

The riad - or walled garden. Sadly the orange trees around the fountain are gone

The riad – or walled garden. Sadly the orange trees around the fountain are gone
A ksar is a walled village.
The ksar (walled village) next to the kasbah (walled house)

The ksar (walled village) next to the kasbah (walled house)

In theory you can have a riad inside a kasbah inside a ksar….. but we digress.
So, back to the kasbah – built with earth bricks, baked hard in the sun and a richly painted interior.
The first level of bricks are always the same dimensions – 1mx50cmx50cm. They are built insitu and then left to bake in the sun and air until strong enough to take the rest of the building… no chance of a 12 week finish or your money back here.
What an entrance!

What an entrance!

Traditional and modern design in the ancient kasbah

Traditional and modern design in the ancient kasbah

Treasure chest for women's secret things

Treasure chest for women’s secret things

The decorations are particular to this family

The decorations are particular to this family

Special windows for women, so they can see out, but they cannot be seen

Special windows for women, so they can see out, but they cannot be seen

A door within a door, leading to the summer room

A door within a door, leading to the summer room

 

Pitcher of water in a window alcove

Pitcher of water in a window alcove

Lounging

Lounging

Just a place to sit

Just a place to sit

The door frames are made of palm trees

The door frames are made of palm trees

 

It was an interesting tour, but we found the descriptions of the family dynamics much more fascinating. How do you sort out who gets what when there are nine brothers….. Not easily or happily apparently!

Inter-familia disputes are a far cry from the laid back attitude of brothers Abdulliah and Belaid, who greeted us and then oft- repeated their mantra ” take your time” as we pulled into their aptly named Prends ton Temps (Take Your Time) campsite in Zagora.
Abdullaih and Belaid

Abdullaih and Belaid

Zagora is known as the gateway to the Sahara in Morocco.
The wall says we are in the desert

The wall says we are in the desert

Belaid spent 21 years in the Moroccan army as a paratrooper, eleven of those years in the desert on the disputed Moroccan/Algerian border. He’s the size of a shed, with a sun-splitting smile and likes nothing better these days than playing his eleven-string lute.
Belaid Laalili playing the eleven-string lute

Belaid Laalili playing the eleven-string lute

Check him out on YouTube.
Abdulliah is pencil thin with more than a passing resemblance to Keith Richards and just as full of bonhomie as his brother. They make a great pair and were easy-going, charming hosts.
Take your time, boys

Take your time, boys

A fellow camper in no particular hurry was Dominique Routier ,an artist from Perpignan, in the process of finalizing a model for his latest installation.
This is just the working model size

This is just the working model size

Technical drawings

Technical drawings

A six-pointed star made of multiple equilateral triangles. The real thing will be about four- storeys high and if you like the look of it, he’s looking for sponsors.

The artist at work

The artist at work

The scale is ambitious, but rather appealing

The scale is ambitious, but rather appealing

Not taking his time at all was the camp goat.
Billy "the Kid" Elliot and his mum

Billy “the Kid” Elliot and his mum

For his constant dancing and prancing around the site, we named him Billy Elliot and delighted in his endless excitement and amazement of the world around him – we know the feeling!
As usual there are plenty more photos in the slideshow, so…kick back, take your time and enjoy the show.
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Boiling brakes, a forklift truck, a deux chevaux and a horse

“Yeah, he doesn’t do very much,” boomed Bruno, the mountain sized mechanic, as he threw an accusing thumb over his shoulder in my direction.  It seemed a little bit harsh to me.

I had only arrived at the garage with our neighbour – also Bruno – and Charlie Charleston about an hour earlier. The yard was full of old cars and motor parts and was dusty and shadeless, so after sixty minutes of French-translated car banter and discussion about 2CVs, I had grabbed the chance to step backward into the gloom of the workshop to avoid the relentless glare and heat from the sun. Thankfully, I quickly realized that the thumbs’ accusatory trajectory was passing me by and as I turned to follow it, came face to face with a shameless, but still disinterested, horse.

Un cheveaux

A horse inside

Not so much of a work horse

Not so much of a work horse

 

He was barely a few metres away from me and so completely still and silent, the single cheval had melded into the darkness, watching impassively as big Bruno went about his business on our deux chevaux. Apparently he is a regular attendee, but clearly not much of a team player. It was a pretty unconventional garage in other ways.  As an ex- mechanic I was really looking forward to getting a look underneath Charlie, when they put him up on the ramps. In this part of France, for ramps read forklift truck! Safety stands are for sissies.

Charlie and the forklift

Charlie and the forklift

Up, up and away

Up, up and away

 

No sissies here!

No sissies here!

The next surprise was the bill. For an hour and a half of work, including giving Charlie a full once-over, changing a tyre and a couple of other things – 10 euros. Yes,  TEN euros!

The two Brunos

The two Brunos

Big Bruno also worked on him a second time a few days later, replacing the steering rack assembly, the control arm and king pin for the princely sum of 150 euros for parts and labour.  With Bruno from El Castell still on hand to translate, we also got the stories from his father of his trips across the Sahara desert in a Peugeot 504, which he did five times – taking European 504’s to sell at African markets.

Charlie looking a little slimmer and slightly surprised

Charlie looking a little slimmer and slightly surprised

Shopping for spares

Shopping for spares

A good look at the engine

A good look at the engine

We found similar generosity in Spain a few weeks ago, and luck. Which is something of an understatement when it comes to losing brakes on a long descent down a narrow, winding mountain road, where every corner is a hairpin bend with no safety rails. Pont del Comte sits at 1800 metres and we were coming down the hill, having proudly conquered the summit earlier in the day.

Geoff and Charlie up the mountain

Geoff and Charlie up the mountain before the descent

Now 2CVs are real workhorses (unlike the one in Bruno’s garage), but there are some quirks that you have to learn. Firstly, their old design doesn’t work with some modern inventions – like synthetics. So, no synthetic engine oil or brake fluid. No problem until you drive it hard on a hot day and the brake fluid starts to boil and the brakes start to fail. It started with needing just a couple of pumps on the pedal to get a response, then three pumps, four pumps till after a few kilometers I was tapping my foot faster than a fiddler at a hillbilly hoe-down. So, as we hit the town of St Lorenc de Morunys, pumping away at the less-than-ideally responsive brake pedal, we rolled passed a garage with a sunshine yellow 2CV sitting outside. Surely, a sign! I don’t speak French, but I was able to communicate with the mechanic with lots of pointing, hand gestures and my best mime of driving a car with no brakes. When you don’t know the language, just keep smiling and making an ass of yourself. I thought the brake fluid was contaminated and asked if he could flush the system. The mechanic was great, he stopped what he was doing to work on our car.

Breathing space from boiling brakes

Breathing space from boiling brakes

Two plates of tapas, and a couple of hours later we were on our way again, with cheery waves from the owners and offers to come visit any time! Two hours labour, new brake fluid and adjusting the rear brakes, total cost a ridiculously low thirty euros! Cheap bills and cheery service seem to be the norm when you drive a 2CV. The next day we dropped by the Citroen garage in Solsona to ask about getting repairs for a hole in the exhaust we have had for a while. Sure, bring it in tomorrow morning.  We had bought some new exhaust parts when we were in Alcaniz , so as well as welding the hole, they also fitted the new section. Again – a pretty cheap bill, friendly, fast service and we were on our way again. Charlie Charleston has been in good hands right from the start. I confess to a slight bias, but from the ever-generous Johan in Amsterdam , even though he looks a little crazy here:

Johan is a good guy really!

Johan is a good guy really!

to those we met just passing through….. mechanics are bloody great people.

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Chateaux Fantastiques

 

Perched higher than the swallows flit, warnings abound that visiting the castles on the cliff tops in strong winds is very dangerous and during storms is strictly forbidden.

 

They also say the steps are slippery;  the climb is steep. But who cares about all that, when thousands of years of history await us at the top.

Higher than the swallows fly, climbing up to Peyrepertuse

Higher than the swallows fly, climbing up to Peyrepertuse

Queribus, perched on the hill

Queribus, perched on the hill

 

Even the names of the chateaux of Queribus and Peyrepertuse sound magical and the views are breathtaking.

Neighbours in the mists

Neighbours in the mists

Hewn from the rocky outcrops as defensive positions, it is incredible to realise that the first mention of the castle at Queribus is in 1020. For us modern crusaders, it was a steep, panting, sweaty 250 metre walk from the car park – minus armour and sword! We had already been grateful that Charlie Charleston had managed the winding two kilometre drive on a 17% gradient! Imagine being one of those sorry souls who had to build this granite eagles nest!

Charlie Charleston on the 17% ascent

Charlie Charleston on the 17% ascent

At 728 metres high, Queribus was the guardian of the mountain pass of Grau de Maury and sits, seemingly precariously, on a ridge overlooking vast swathes of Corbieres, Fenouilledes and the Roussillon Plains.

Along the spine of the mountain

Along the spine of the mountain

Defending the rock

Defending the rock

Keeping a look out

Keeping a look out

 

As with most castles, it’s history is chequered, starting in the hands of the Count of Besalu, who served the Count of Barcelona, who became the King of Aragon – part of modern day Spain. The castle gave shelter to the religiously persecuted Cathars and is often cited as the last Cathar stronghold before falling to the French in 1255, during the Albigensian Crusade. The history of the Cathars is fascinating and not widely known outside this region. It’s worth a read to find out about their history and ideology on equality, peace, vegetarianism. Easy to see why they posed such a threat to society and could justifiably be hunted down and massacred by order of the Catholic pope.

Meanwhile, back up the mountain, the French put their new prize to good use, making Queribus one of the “Five Sons of Carcassonne” a group of castles central to the French defensive system against the Spanish.

Like Queribus, its near neighbour Peyrepertuse was one of the Five Sons of Carcassonne. Eleven kilometres as the crow flies (if he would fly that high) and a couple of valleys over, Peyrepertuse stands higher, at 800 metres, and is an even larger complex, linked by a huge stone staircase. The stairs were commissioned by the French king Louis IX and were not made from pre-quarried stones, but rather chiselled out of the very rocks of the limestone ridge the castle clings to. Despite never once lifting a hammer to help, St Louis got the staircase named in his honour.

Peyrepertuse has all the proper castle trimmings of towers, dungeons, long drops, chapels, spectacular views for spotting potential marauding hordes and of course, a bloody history.

View from the valley floor

View from the valley floor

The site has been occupied since Roman times, from the start of the first century BC. Since the first official mentions of the Castle in 1070, ownership has ping-ponged between the kings and countries of Spain and France, before finally becoming fully French-owned in 1240, when it took on its prime defensive duties with its four Carcassonne castle siblings.

As far as the eye can see

As far as the eye can see

Clinging to the cliff

Clinging to the cliff

Getting to Peyrepertuse is even harder than Queribus. Once again Charlie championed us to the car park, but from there it was more like a scramble through a Hobbit woodland path for parts of the climb and then a gut-busting hike up countless stone-shod, uneven steps and rock piles to the entrance, balanced on the top of the almost dragon-like spine of the ridge, that looks barely wide enough to support it.

Hobbit highway to the castle

Hobbit highway to the castle

Climbing up

Climbing up

 

Still more steps to go

Still more steps to go

A vast complex on an almost impossible ridge

A vast complex on an almost impossible ridge

 

While the history of both of the castles is ancient, restoration work was only began in the 1950s and was pretty limited in its scope. Serious restoration of Queribus only started in 1998.  Even post-restoration the sites would probably not pass a health & safety inspection in the UK or Australia, with their rubble-strewn climbs and hand-rail free steps. But to climb that ancient route, to clamber over the warm stones and get just a hint of life in a millennia gone by was worth all the effort.

Living on the edge

Living on the edge

Planning the next assault

Planning the next assault

Much thanks is due to one passionate and prolific man for making these castles available to the public. Henri-Paul Eydoux, historian, resistance fighter, diplomat and author, translated his passion for the ancient history of France into a series of books called “Chateaux Fantastiques” in 1969 and a campaign to have them restored and opened to the public.

"Chateaux Fantastique", by Henri-Paul Eyoux

“Chateaux Fantastique”, by Henri-Paul Eyoux

Fittingly, he is buried in a cemetery at the foot of the Peyrepertuse castle hills.

Henri-Paul Eydoux memorial

Henri-Paul Eydoux memorial

This story and images are for you Mr. Eydoux, with our thanks.

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Discovering a new way of life

Unless you count Catholic school, Rolling Stones concerts at Wembley Stadium and working for Greenpeace – I’ve never really engaged is serious cult activity…. until now… … .. ..

 

The 20th bi-annual International Friends of 2CV meeting was held for five days at a motorcycle Grand Prix race track in Alcaniz, Spain.And if these two opening sentences don’t contain enough contradictions already – stand by.

Geoff and I have had Charlie Charleston for a couple of months now.

Geoff and Charlie Charleston in reflective mood

Geoff and Charlie Charleston in reflective mood

 

We think the car is cool, fun and quirky; always raises a smile from others, sometimes brings mechanical worries and frowns, is certainly no power-house of a machine – but when all is said and done, it is only a machine. Or so we thought….

This is not a car, this is a way of life

Not just a car

Not just a car

 I have 2Cvs on my mind all the time

I have 2Cvs on my mind all the time

 

The declaration is certainly clearly true for many of the people who have travelled thousands of miles to be here. Some have been making the meeting pilgrimage since the 1970s. It is a 600cc machine that dictates holiday destinations and by the look of it, what many people’s savings are spent on.

Pretty in Pink?

Pretty in Pink?

 

The Burton conversion

The Burton conversion

 

Chequered history

Chequered history

Stuck on you

Stuck on you

More than four thousand cars descended on the baked hillside at Motorworld, Alcaniz. A tented city began to slowly emerge, to the relentless sound of metal on metal as pegs and poles were finally cracked into the iron-hard ground. Eventually the chalky white hillside was peppered with stiffly flying national flags, multi-coloured tents and cars, and echoed to hoots and toots as 2CV club members greeted old friends from the previous meet and paraded their treasured cars up and down the campsite. The peacock display was clearly much too important than to be slowed down by the brutal 45degree heat.

Purple People Pleaser

Purple People Pleaser

No Nukes Classic

No Nukes Classic

 

The Purists and the Pimps

They came in every shape and even size imaginable. Classic cars, lovingly restored with exquisite attention to detail vied for attention alongside those with every kind of change, addition and alteration you could think of. Men and women in their 70s traded notes and admiring glances with all the young dudes, united in common appreciation.

Yellow Peril

Yellow Peril

Another brick in the wall

Another brick in the wall

 

Double trouble

Double trouble

 

Got it pegged

Got it pegged

Licensed to....???

Licensed to….???

 

It is still a 2CV apparently

It is still a 2CV apparently

 

Bronzed Adonis

Bronzed Adonis

Escape from Alcaniz

We newbie owners lasted one sweat-soaked, breath-gasping day and night before we rolled up Chubby the tent , stuffed everything back into Charlie and drove in the opposite direction, retreating back to the tree-lined camp site 40 kms away – including bar and pool!!!

Are you going my way?

Are you going my way?

Look behind you

Look behind you

 

We resorted to day-tripping, shopping for supplies and casting incredulous eyes over the rally cars.

Rallying call

Rallying call

Skull and cross eyes!

Skull and cross eyes!

 

They take it very seriously

They take it very seriously

 

We traded travelling intel with a lovely young Spanish man who has spent the last four years trundling around the world in a 2CV  forty countries and two full engine repairs later and the same front tyres that he left on (Michelin is the way to go apparently!), he still grins when he tells the tales. All I can say is that 2CV owners are hard core. Geoff is still wondering if are they hard core or soft in the head – or a bit of both?

Can’t fail to smile

It is undeniable that there is something joyful about being surrounded by so many little ducks; seeing them scuttling around town, taking roundabouts at seemingly unfeasible angles and watching all those spectators who are unfamiliar with the car, its suspension and other characteristics simply stand back and watch with astonishment. We have been met with friendly smiles, encouraging words, sound advice and always good humour. As cults go – you could do a lot worse.

Getting our ducks in a row

Getting our ducks in a row

 

2CV Burton conversionCharlie Charleston and friends2CV painted like brick wallDouble ended 2CVMan with 2CV tattoo on his headPurple 2CVGeoff reflective in side door of Charlie CharlestonNo Nukes Classic 2CVNot just a car t-shirts2CV rally carPink 2CVSkull and cross eyes logoGiant clothes peg holding down the roof007 2CV2CV rally cars Two 2CVsYellow 2CV with matching trailer2cv with large yellow canopyStickers on boot of 2CVrow of 2CVs2Cv in rear view mirror2Cvs driving toward us