Daklah (MA) : Western Sahara
N 23°45.836' W 015°54.441'
We had various stops to snack and to marvel at the almost unbelievable stretches of green vegetation after the recent sparse rain. En route in Boujdour we sipped sea in the the sun and got a lesson in tea serving from some localswhen suddenly thy all dissapeared insid to watch Morroco's kick-off in the Africa Cup. Later on we almost had a great fish meal in a one-camel-town were it not for a couple from Geneva who were already seated and who had momentarily hyper-inflated the prices. It was an impressive sight anyway to see the assortment of 5-20 kg fish and a ray hanging above the shack's entrance. We had a diY-lunch instead at La Cra, a now devoid fishing hamlet tucked in below the costal cliffs. We only met one elderly man on his venture for water to who knows where who gave us his resume of the conflict in the Western Sahara by replying "Non! Bonjour!" and threatening to kill all Arabs when we greeted him with a friendly "Salaam aleikum". The last 40 km along the peninsula of the 540 km leg wer truely spectacular with views across the deep blue bay of Daklah against the the sand-covered mainland in the setting sun.
Since for about two years there the convoi to cover the last 400 odd km to the border is no longer, but Daklah, the last Morrocan town before the Mauretanian border and capital of the Western Sahara, has retained its atmosphere as a frontier town. Even more so since the local fishing industry has come to standstill due to the organised off-shore fish industry in the hands of some EU-countries! w took time off to do 'house-work' and to let the rain pass - so much for the myth that sand dunes never get wet. Thr days passed quickly having meals together with a Basque couple and exchanging stories with two French men who have ben trading and trafficing the West African coast for many years.
We had various stops to snack and to marvel at the almost unbelievable stretches of green vegetation after the recent sparse rain. En route in Boujdour we sipped sea in the the sun and got a lesson in tea serving from some localswhen suddenly thy all dissapeared insid to watch Morroco's kick-off in the Africa Cup. Later on we almost had a great fish meal in a one-camel-town were it not for a couple from Geneva who were already seated and who had momentarily hyper-inflated the prices. It was an impressive sight anyway to see the assortment of 5-20 kg fish and a ray hanging above the shack's entrance. We had a diY-lunch instead at La Cra, a now devoid fishing hamlet tucked in below the costal cliffs. We only met one elderly man on his venture for water to who knows where who gave us his resume of the conflict in the Western Sahara by replying "Non! Bonjour!" and threatening to kill all Arabs when we greeted him with a friendly "Salaam aleikum". The last 40 km along the peninsula of the 540 km leg wer truely spectacular with views across the deep blue bay of Daklah against the the sand-covered mainland in the setting sun.
Since for about two years there the convoi to cover the last 400 odd km to the border is no longer, but Daklah, the last Morrocan town before the Mauretanian border and capital of the Western Sahara, has retained its atmosphere as a frontier town. Even more so since the local fishing industry has come to standstill due to the organised off-shore fish industry in the hands of some EU-countries! w took time off to do 'house-work' and to let the rain pass - so much for the myth that sand dunes never get wet. Thr days passed quickly having meals together with a Basque couple and exchanging stories with two French men who have ben trading and trafficing the West African coast for many years.
posted by Retobados at 2:36 PM
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