13/12/2021: Qsar Bono to Tizi N’benSelman
The journey preparations began in Qsar Bono, a small town near M’Hamid El Ghizlane. The same two camels that carried me in the spring would once again be my companions, this time on the road to Merzouga. A new path, with new stories waiting.
We started by preparing and buying the essentials for the road. It’s impossible to manage everything for 13 days at once, so we planned to stop at the only village accessible on this route, Tafraout Sidi Ali. I estimated we would reach it in about a week, so we carried provisions for seven days and set off from Qsar Bounou. On this first day, we covered 15 kilometers, arriving at Tizi n’Benselman
14/12/2021: Tizi N’Benselman to cemetery of Kasbat Amamou
This day felt like a maze. The area of Ktaoua is known for its irrigation system that runs between the villages, large cement canals that surround all the small settlements.
When we woke up and began our route, we kept crossing these huge canals that cut through the landscape. At first, we didn’t pay much attention to them, but suddenly we realized we were trapped between them, unable to find a way across to the other side.
Even though these irrigation canals were dry, their walls were deep and steep, impossible for the camels to go down and climb up again.
As we stood there trying to decide whether to turn back, one of the camels slipped into the canal. We tried to pull him out, but it was useless. I stayed on top of the canal with one camel, while Si Mahjoub stayed inside with the other, moving along the canal until we finally found a broken section low enough for the camel to climb out.
We rested there for a while, had lunch, and then tried to find our way back along the canals until we reached their starting point, and finally escaped the maze.
We continued our path passing through Qsar Nsrat, Qsar Oulad Youssef, and Oulad Omar, before stopping near the cemetery of Kasbat Amamou, after a long 28 km day.
15/12/2021: From the Cemetery of Kasbat Amamou to Tafna Crater
This day was full of rocky highlands. We started at 2,000 feet above the ground and slowly climbed through the hills until we reached 3,709 feet.
We left the Ktaoua region and headed toward the edge of the Tafna Crater. The crater, visible on Google Maps, is a natural circular formation. Its origin is unknown, likely shaped by volcanic or tectonic forces, and no information about it exists online. You can see its photo on the right.
At the crater’s edge, we began our descent over massive rocks. We stopped for the night on rocky ground, the silence of the desert surrounding us. Tea warmed our hands, and the soft guitar music of desert blues filled the air as the night wrapped us in its calm.
16/12/2021: From Tafna crater to Azourz N’taghnjaout
We woke up after a silent night. Breakfast was as always, a bowl filled with oil, cheese, date jam, and the fresh bread Si Mahjoub baked the day before. Then we set off, crossing the mountain highlands, climbing and descending through dry riverbeds and winding tracks. We followed the faint trails of nomads, heading toward Azour N’Taghnjaout, where the rocky land begins to fade into an endless open space.
17/12/2021: From Azourz N’taghnjaout to plateau Bouhayara
Yesterday we finished crossing the rocky highlands of Zagora province. Today the land changed the rocks disappeared, and sand stretched in every direction. We walked through a calm landscape with a few green spots, the air cool, and the winter sun lighting our path gently.
Along the way, we passed a well where a nomad family was washing their clothes and their donkeys. We filled our bottles with fresh water and continued, refreshed. Ahead of us lay the vast Plateau of Bouhayara, waiting quietly for our steps.
18/12/2021: From plateau Bouhayara to Tamassint (military zone)
It was the coldest night of this crossing. In the morning, even our solar panel was covered in white fros, the desert reminding us to not trust it weather
The day ahead was long across the Bouhayara Plateau, endless, flat, and painted in one color. Only the sand, and here and there, the green dots of acacia trees. The landscape stayed the same all day, a wide emptiness stretching to the horizon. No hills, no valleys, just a straight sandy path under the pale winter sun.
In the second half of the day, we entered a military zone without knowing. Suddenly, from the distance, a soldier appeared, running toward us, his shadow long over the bright sand. He was breathless, speaking through his walkie-talkie, and moments later a military jeep raced toward us, stopping in a cloud of dust.
The officer stepped out, calm but firm. He handed his AK-47 to the soldier beside him and asked for our identification. He took our ID cards back to the station to check the, we waited nearly three hours in the silent desert. When he returned, he explained that next time, we must inform them before passing through a military area, as these regions are known for drug and fuel smuggling.
By the time he left, the sun was setting. We prepared dinner, poured tea, and as the wind changed, Si Mahjoub sensed rain was coming. With his desert wisdom, he set up a small nomadic tent. That night, rain fell softly over the sand. We lay inside, listening to the drops on the canvas, an unforgettable night, full of silence and feeling.
19/12/2021: Tamassint to Tafraout Sidi Ali
We woke up after a rainy night. Breakfast was simple, as alway, bread, cheese, jam, and tea. We packed the tent and our gear and set off toward Tafraout Sidi Ali. The village was visible in the distance, but the small dunes before it made the approach difficult. The waves of sand rose and fell endlessly, and though we could see the village, it seemed unreachable. We had to follow the rhythm of the dunes, climbing and descending, until finally, after a strenuous half day, we arrived.
A surprise awaited us in the small village. Before starting my adventure, a friend had told me she wanted to experience a desert crossing. I had promised her I would pass through only one village, Tafraout Sidi Ali, about seven days after my start. At first, I hadn’t paid much attention, many friends had said the same. But Meryem, our lost girl, shocked me when I found her there. What a kind soul, someone who truly loves what she does and keeps her promises. Huge respect to her. While I’m writing this, she has crossed the African continent from Morocco to Tanzania by bike. I wish her all the luck in the world.
We met her in the village, packed her backpack into the camels, bought some necessities, and continued toward Jbel Zireg.
20/12/2021: Tafraout Sidi Ali to Jbel zireq
It was the first day with Meryem. We woke up early, and she discovered what I call the “magical breakfast”, a bowl filled with oil, cheese, date jam, and fresh bread baked the night before.
After packing our things, we moved toward the Zireg Peak, standing proud at about 900 meters high. From there, the horizon opens wide, you can see Jbal Kem Kem, the last mountain range marking the invisible border between Morocco and Algeria.
The view was beyond words. We left behind the flat, endless plains and entered a new world a desert of rocks and silence, where a single peak rises in the middle of vast emptiness. There, the desert feels alive, ancient, and watching.
21/12/2021: jbel Zirek to Hassi Ba Halou
We woke up after a calm night under a sky full of stars, with the soft sound of guitar desert blues fading into the silence.
We continued our path toward Foum Mharech, a vast plain crossed only by a few tracks used by heavy trucks carrying minerals from the nearby mines.
Our destination was the lost city of Ba Halou. What remains of this ancient settlement are only fragments of walls scattered across the sand. It is believed to have been built by the Portuguese around the year 1500, during the reign of King Sebastiao I, and was once known as Cidade Perdida “The Lost City of Ba Halou.”
The place was abandoned about 300 years ago after a massive flood swept through the valley, creating swamps and breeding clouds of mosquitoes. The Hassi (Well) still holds clean water, so we filled our bottles. We also met a few wild camels wandering nearby and filled for them th water so they could drink.
That night was magical, a lost city in the middle of nowhere. Sitting there, surrounded by silence, we tried to imagine how people once lived in this place, no roads, no cities, only the unknown stretching endlessly in every direction.
22/12/2021: Hassi Ba Halou to Aferdou N’Soualhine
It was one of the hardest days of this crossing, the ground was covered with rocks, every step demanding effort, we walked toward Aferdou N’Soualhine, a flat-topped hill standing alone in the middle of nowhere, before reaching it, we passed by a small nomadic school, just a white metal container with one window, inside empty chairs and tables, may God bless and protect those children, from afar we could already see the Aferdou rising, we headed straight toward it and set camp at its base, that night, Meryem prepared us Harsha, a kind of Moroccan bread, with Si Mahjoub’s tea and the sound of desert blues on the guitar, what a night.
23/12/2021: Aferdou N’Soualhine to Atrous
The journey was slowly reaching its end, we began to see the golden orange sands of Merzouga appear on the horizon, step by step we were leaving behind the rocky lands that had shaped our days, I started to feel something strange inside, maybe it was the noise of the 4x4s or the sight of tourists passing by, after weeks of silence and emptiness, the world began to return, and with it the feeling that my dream was coming to an end.
24/12/2021: Atrous to Merzouga
It was our last night, Merzouga was near, we packed all our things after breakfast and walked straight toward it, step by step my mind was filled with the weeks behind me, the endless silence, the wide emptiness, the sound of our steps through the desert nights, and the peace that came with it.
It was hard to believe we had arrived, hard to say goodbye to Si Mahjoub, who would return alone with the camels to M’Hamid El Ghizlane. So many feelings came together in that moment joy, sadness, gratitude.
That day I understood, this is my way of traveling. I find myself in freedom, in walking, in camping anywhere, anytime, in exploring landscapes with no limits. The camels made this possible with their strength and patience, they can cross anything, climb anything, go anywhere.
Thank you, Si Mahjoub, for your wisdom, I learned so much from you. And a huge thanks to Meryem, my fellow traveler, my friend, who shared with me half this crossing, the laughter, the songs, the stories, the silence.
This is it, this is my way of traveling.
