Dic 05 2011 Camel Road Gates Sahara

• djebelbani6

  https://www.viajesalpasado.com/wp-content/uploads/djebelbani6.jpg

  "We 4 running days. Not hot, Contrary to what most thought. The light reverberates on mica lining the road, where more than one occasion the rounded forms of the abundant fossils or arrowheads are more unreal the way in which we operate under the slow pace of camels, as in a dream"

• djebelbani3

  https://www.viajesalpasado.com/wp-content/uploads/djebelbani3.jpg

  "We 4 running days. Not hot, Contrary to what most thought. The light reverberates on mica lining the road, where more than one occasion the rounded forms of the abundant fossils or arrowheads are more unreal the way in which we operate under the slow pace of camels, as in a dream"

• djebelbani4

  https://www.viajesalpasado.com/wp-content/uploads/djebelbani4.jpg

  "We 4 running days. Not hot, Contrary to what most thought. The light reverberates on mica lining the road, where more than one occasion the rounded forms of the abundant fossils or arrowheads are more unreal the way in which we operate under the slow pace of camels, as in a dream"

• djebelbani1

  https://www.viajesalpasado.com/wp-content/uploads/djebelbani1.jpg

  "We 4 running days. Not hot, Contrary to what most thought. The light reverberates on mica lining the road, where more than one occasion the rounded forms of the abundant fossils or arrowheads are more unreal the way in which we operate under the slow pace of camels, as in a dream"

• djebelbani2

  https://www.viajesalpasado.com/wp-content/uploads/djebelbani2.jpg

  "We 4 running days. Not hot, Contrary to what most thought. The light reverberates on mica lining the road, where more than one occasion the rounded forms of the abundant fossils or arrowheads are more unreal the way in which we operate under the slow pace of camels, as in a dream"

• djebelbani5

  https://www.viajesalpasado.com/wp-content/uploads/djebelbani5.jpg

  "We 4 running days. Not hot, Contrary to what most thought. The light reverberates on mica lining the road, where more than one occasion the rounded forms of the abundant fossils or arrowheads are more unreal the way in which we operate under the slow pace of camels, as in a dream"

Sunrise. The acrid smell of the campfires last night is dispersed through the red walls of the canyon. We are in the Djebel Bani, south of Morocco, beyond the snow-capped Atlas mountains and looming on the horizon. Yusuf walks with slow steps. Not one more effort. He sits back and begins to pray. You can imagine seeing him continue his daily ritual, hard life, simple, full, that the inhabitants of this desert and many more are now being. Logic routines, the rhythm of the seasons, the frequency of visits to wells, festivals where to find animals, food or partner ... Nothing easier.

Yusuf gets up and goes to look for the camel, with which we move along an ancient caravan route to the border with Algeria artificial, across the canyons and gorges of Jebel Bani, mountain nomads. Not a road, not a trace of modern vehicles on a track after hundreds of stations marked by the heart-shaped tracks of the camels. From well to well and tent in tent, where the eternal conversations always happen at each stop.

There is no longer the Djebel Bani banditry, lions or cattle to be carried so patiently raised in this hostile land

There is no longer the Djebel Bani banditry, lions or cattle to be carried so patiently raised in this hostile land, or even strangers fleeing military uniforms who knows what war. Just the usual rhythm, the smile of a girl leaning on the parapet of a well spend watching our caravan or songs of a young shepherd rumbling in the walls of the mountain.

We 4 running days. Not hot, Contrary to what most thought. The light reverberates on mica lining the road, where more than one occasion the rounded forms of the abundant fossils or arrowheads are more unreal the way in which we operate under the slow pace of camels, as in a dream. And in the background, after a brief stop at a water-filled guerta rains last fall, the dune field Chaggaga, the end of the journey through the mountains of Ain Tatta, the last wild children of this part of the abstraction that maps marked as Sahara, as if such a variety of landscapes and cultures could be summed up in one name.

Dunes where there are no tracks, vehicles, Turistas. But, luckily, the Djebel Bani remains what it has always been, the shelter of a natural way of life for the inhabitants of the desert, without tricks or accessories. Casting a glance back, the moon starts to get under the dunes, with the tops destroyed by erosion Djebel background. I'm sitting in the sand still hot, only, feneco my right one looks at the other end of the dune , runs off into the mountains and stopped at me surprised, before returning to disappear into the darkness, in the shadows of mountains and valleys are very close to us geographically but, fortunately, still hiding treasures that we have moved away slowly, Sahara at the Gates.