s/v Milly: Wed., Jan. 31, 2018

Essaouira to near Taroudannt
Morocco

Goats in Trees.

Argan oil has come to be known as "Berber Gold". The Moroccan coast south of Agadir provides the best growing conditions in the world for the scrubby argan trees. As the oil has been touted as the perfect hair and skin product, the price of argan oil has taken off and the Moroccan government has set up women's cooperatives to provide work and independence for rural women.

The Moroccan government, led my King Mohammed VI, seemed to be benevolent. The cooperative were one example, although some organizations called themselves coops but the money apparently didn't get to the members - this seems to be a function of corruption within the organization and perhaps not within the government. As we drove through a particularly arid valley where land was layered with rock and gravel - so much so that the sandy, soil was hard to see - the government was offering the land essentially for free to Moroccans to lease for 99 years, build a home on and attempt to grow crops on. Incredibly, many of those fields had been cleared of rocks to make high walls and green barley and wheat were now growing. Infrastructure construction is going on everywhere. The king's photo appeared in a place of honour in every home, hotel, store, and office. He seemed to be revered and respected by all. Morocco had been free of most strife during the Arab Spring due in large part, according to Samir, to the king's fair treatment of the population and the belief the people had in him. The difference in Morocco's and Tunisia's affluence, infrastructure and general mood was striking.

The argan pod is harvested.

Women crack the shell with a rock and take out two "almonds".

Argan almonds are ground by placing them under the lid of the stone mill above and turning the top with the green handle by hand. Raw almonds are used for cosmetics. Almonds are roasted to be used for cooking oil.

The ground almonds are shaped into patties.

Driving through the rolling arid hills we were all on the lookout for goats that famously have such a yen for the argan leaves that they climb the trees to get the most succulent. As we motored along, the occasional yelp sounded as someone spied a goat or two up a tree but Samir assured us that we would see better. Sure enough, we stopped to gawk at a whole herd of more than twenty goats crowding the branches of one tree. They paid no heed to us, so engrossed were they in the pleasure of those tiny tasty leaves that are surrounded by 10 cm vicious looking thorns. The leaves are of no interest to the production of the oil from the nuts so human and goats harvest their preferences quite happily side by side. Samir said that that particular tree would be stripped of leaves by the end of the day. Not sure what happens to the poor tree but no one seems bothered so I'm guessing that the leaves just grow back.

One little goat lost his delicate footing and fell at least 2 meters onto his back - no cat characteristics in these goats. The poor guy got up and stood absolutely motionless for about ten minutes. The shepherd paid no attention whatsoever. Must happen several times a day. I'm sure he had a broken rib or two landing on those uneven rocks.

Picnic lunch stop. A few hardy tourists in for a swim. Arabic graffiti - something like peace, joy and king. I know king was the last word.

Finished a long day of driving at a palace turned hotel in sumptuous grounds. Story had it that a single Dane bought the palace from the original Berber family. He lived there happily with his gardner. Upon the Dane's death, he willed the palace to the gardner and his family who, in order to manage the maintenance costs, converted the palace to a hotel with all the amenities. It was a lovely place but in a crummy looking town. We were the only guests.