Tizi n' test pass and a great hotel stay

I got up early (well, 7.30!) and went downstairs to enquire about the likelihood of any hot water, and was firmly … told, not a chance. So I returned upstairs to my room and sort of dangled over the shower head washing my hair and various important parts of my anatomy with cold water. I am not a fan of cold showers.

In the end I just sort of sloshed the water all over me … very painful in a sort of OMG … cold water way but of course bracing. It was not however an experience I am interested in repeating any time soon!

I went downstairs and over the road for a nice breakfast of croissant and coffee and hit the road pretty much soon thereafter.

The first part was all roadworks again and so my poor, long suffering Clio and I bounced through river beds which was where we were diverted as they build small bridges over the top! It was a tedious ¾ hour but soon I saw the fork which pointed one way to Ourzazate (where luckily all the lorries went) and the other to Tizi n’test and Marrakech.

The road wound up through the rather scrubby plain but soon we were climbing up through what was absolutely wonderful, long vistas and views, even if there was a little mist here and there, one could see for miles.  The clio fairly rattled along as I hurled it through hairpin bend after hairpin bends, and threw it into the rubble on the right side of the road as I was occasionally forced out of the way by either lorries or taxis who really were not goig to stop or move out of the way for anyone!

I stopped at a little sort of shack where they were offering cooked meals. I sat down at a table with a stunning view over the countryside and ordered another Spanish Omelette (which they called a Moroccan omelette for some reason ….) 

I have to say that what came was the best omelette of any sort I have had anywhere! I mean that. It was delicious with fresh tomatoes and onions. I sat eating this and drinking mint tea, looking out over the mountain and felt really this was a pretty good place to be.

A family came with their donkey which was duly loaded up with cement bags – I think the café sort of doubled as a staging post for the local villages - and the 6 year old boy was duly sent off with one of his donkeys loaded up and Dad followed on a few minutes later. Independence is obviously taught at an early age!

The rest of the journey went off smoothly. At the top of the pass there was another restaurant that had a side line selling Tagines, which they stocked in a old, wheelless van which had been perched on the edge of the roadside, in part overhanging the drop below. Who would buy a Tagine at 6000 seems also beyonf me, but hey!

The other side of the mountains was a little greener and there was a river down along which were perched lots of small little Berber enclaves and villages. At one point the river was dammed off and so a rather sophisticated looking tourist activity had sprung up all of which looked rather nice.

I was getting into the Oungadia (?) Valley now which is in itself a tourist destination, especially in the spring when the fieds arounds are a riot of wild flowers, and with lots of small B and B’s and one or too larger hotels springing up.

Feeling in need of a pitstop, I came across a place with about 5 huge red flags outside … in need of a pit stop, I drove in. To start with I thought it was Richard Branson’s place (he has some sort of ritzy place round here for the well heeled who are prepared to pay £400 a night) but as I walked into the main reception area and look out at the gardens beyond I realised I was somewhere really rather special, if a little down at heel.

I walked into the gardens and just couldn’t believe my eyes! It was like arriving in paradise … and in the middle there was a wonderful swimming pool with comfy sunbeds all around.

I had the idea of staying here but decided before even asking it was going to be far too expensive … but then there didn’t seem to be too many people around so you never know.

I collared the receptionist and asked him how much it would cost to stay. We started off at 1200 doodahs at which point I sort of feigned huge disappointment … and so we continued in the usual Moroccan way!

In the end we ended up at 800 (about £57) …. At which point the very nice man indeed told me that he had forgotten to mention the fact that dinner was included for the price and that I would be upgraded to a suite if I liked. It was hard ro refuse as I really didn’t feel like complaining! I went to fetch my bags and was shown, basically to my own little cottage in the grounds.

After a hot bath (yay!!) there was a knock on the door and a man walked in saying he was going to light my fire.  For a minute I thought we were back in Taroudant and was about to tell him I was a good sort of girl … but then he came in with his assistant who staggered in under a huge pile of logs.

The fire was duly lit and the glass of wine which came with the wood was deposited on the table. It was filthy, but the first drink I had had all week.

Later on came dinner which I consumed infront of the fire, all on my own it has to be said which was a little sad, but I was able to catch up with editing some of the photos I had taken and to also catch up a little with this blog.