Adventure Travel Blog

Ait Benhaddou

Anna on 16th January 2012 | 0 comments

Ait Benhaddou is one of the most spectacular manmade sights along the valley of the Kasbahs, in Morocco's rocky desert. The Unesco World heritage site has been used as the backdrop for several Hollywood films, including Gladiator and Lawrence of Arabia and is an excellent example of South Moroccan architecture. Its exact date of build is unknown, but work is estimated to have begun in the 17th Century. It's purpose was to serve as a fortified city along the strategically important trading route linking the Sahara to Marrakech and beyond. The crumbling buildings include houses (a handful of which are still inhabited), mosques and even cemetries. Built from local clay brick, it blends in with the landscape and can be seen from far away, rising above the desert plains.  

Ait Benhaddou does attract its fair share of visitors, but it is big enough to escape from other people, especially if you are visiting out of the main season. Once inside the fortification, you are free to explore the lower level buildings and climb to the top of the hill for a stunning view of the surrounding area. There are several restaurants nearby with lovely views serving traditional cuisine.  It is possible to visit in a (long) day from Marrakech, or you can combine your visit with a trip out to the Saharan dunes at Erg Chebbi.

Please contact us to include a visit to Ait Benhaddou in your tailor-made holiday to Morocco.

Kasbah Telouet

Anna on 16th January 2012 | 0 comments

The important former trading route between Marrakech and the Sahara is dotted with crumbling kasbahs and mansions, homes of wealthy merchants and warlords, earning it the nickname 'valley of the kashbahs.'  Kasbah Telouet is often over-looked, with most vistors to the area heading straight to Ait Benhaddou, the most famous kasbah of them all. However, with its crumbling walls and stunning mosaics, Kasbah Telouet is more than worth a visit in its own right and can easily be combined with a visit to Ait Benhaddou, the Saharan dunes of Erg Chebbi, or as a day trip from Marrakech.

Buitl in the 1800's by the Glaoui family, the kasbah enjoyed a propseprous strategic position on the trans-Saharan trading route and in close proximity to the area's salt mining industry.  After Morocco's independence in 1953, the Glaoui family was evicted and the kasbah was left to ruin.  In recent times, the kasbah has started to attract some low-level tourist interest and the town has some restaurants to support the visitors.

Visitors catch their first glimpse of the kasbah as they drive into Telouet; an imposing building standing proud on top of a small hill.  On closer inspection, the walls are crubling and close to collapsing. The entrance to the building is no less delapidated, with incomplete walls and rubble. As you walk through the corridow, it is unclear what makes the building so remarkable, with its bare, neglected walls.  It is only when you reach the heart of the building that you can understand the significance and fallen wealth of the kasbah.  Stunning mosaics and intricate wood carvings adorn the walls, reminiscent of the Bahia Palace in Marrakech.  The attention to detail is most incredible and the work and money spent on building it is unfathomable.  After being astounded by the mosaics on the first floor, more treats await you, with far-reaching views of the valley and mountains beyond from the roof terrace. All in all,  well worth the visit.  Contact us if you would like to include this in your tailor-made itinerary.

Imperial City of Fes

Anna on 12th January 2012 | 0 comments

Fes is often over-looked in favour of the more famous and popular Marrakech. This imperial city, however, has a lot going for it and with direct flights from Stansted, it is easily accessed for a weekend break. With fewer tourists and more laid-back stall holders, a couple of days spent wandering around the  souks and visiting the beautiful merdersas are well worth it. Whilst there is no central square, there are still plenty of opportunities for drinking mint tea and watching the world go by. 

The Imperial city of Fes was founded approximately 1200 years ago and its medieval heritage is clear to see when wandering the old town. The medina, a Unesco World Heritage site, is a labyrinth of small streets and high buildings built on the side of a hill.  With no motorbikes or cars in the medina, all goods transport is done by horse or mule and cart, making for a more olde world feel. That said, they pound the streets with a purpose, so you are well advised to stand back when they come by! It is tempting to try to compare Fes to Marrakech, but actually, the two are completely different and whilst Marrakech will probably always attract more tourist traffic, Fes is certainly well worth a visit. The tanneries, using traditional dyeing techniques, are a fascinating site and the medersas Bou Inania and el Attarine will take your breath away with their intricate stone and mosaic work. 

First hand account: Marangu Route

Tourdust on 11th January 2012 | 0 comments

“Kilimanjaro is a pretty tricky climb you know; most of it's up until you reach the very, very top, and then it tends to slope away rather sharply.” - Graham Chapman (1941-1989)

What is it with people and mountains? According to Friedrich Nietzsche, ‘he who climbs upon the highest mountains laughs at all tragedies, whether real or imagined’.  Fair enough.  But is this really a rationale, or just a sign of high-altitude deliria?  When asked why he wanted to climb Everest, George Mallory famously replied: ‘Because it’s there.’  Unfortunately for Mallory, so too would his corpse soon be.  (Nietzsche, a keen mountaineer himself, would have probably found this hilarious.)  ‘Apparently, more people have died climbing Kilimanjaro than Everest’, I tell my mother as she bids us (her husband and three children) farewell at the airport.  This trip should be a laugh-fest.

In truth, the death rate on Kilimanjaro pales in comparison to the sheer number of climbers who set out to scale the mountain each year (some 25,000 in 2010).  As big mountains go, ‘Kili’ is pretty user-friendly; there are several well-trodden routes, a host of trekking companies and comfortable campsites with hot running water and tea- and coffee-making facilities.  And yet, at the best part of 6,000m, Africa’s highest peak is not to be laughed at (though Nietzsche probably would…).  Though the climbing is non-technical - unless of course you’re one of porters (standard issue: two per person) balancing a week’s worth of food and fuel on your head – the success rate on the main routes is low, as little as 30% on the most popular approach.  The cause is rarely physical exertion – the porters shoulder that burden - but rather the Russian roulette of altitude sickness, the symptoms of which are often described as being akin to the worst hangover imaginable.  A sobering thought.

I’m fairly apprehensive, then, about my family’s chances of reaching Uhuru Peak.  Though all of our party are in fairly good shape, that 30% success rate means that, statistically speaking, only one of us (or one and a bit – queue chortles from Nietzsche) will make it to the summit. “It’s the journey that’s important, not the destination”, we remind ourselves (30% in jest, 70% in justification).

And quite some journey it is.  All the pre-trek chat about altitude sickness, sub-zero temperatures and blisters the size of sheep’s bladders had obscured the fact that this was, after all, a five-day hike through a spectacular national park.  The mountain itself is a sky island, its various ecosystems having been severed from the mainland and cast adrift in a sea of cloud.  Indeed, as one of the world’s tallest ‘true’ mountains, Kilimanjaro comprises five distinct ecological zones, each home to countless endemic and relict species of flora and fauna.  So immense is this upturned ark that the migratory birds inhabiting its lower levels need only move a few kilometres up the mountain come change of season.  Conversely, a creature at home on one part of the mountain may struggle to survive just a short distance up (as many a climber has discovered).

Our trek up Kilimanjaro follows the Marangu (a.k.a. Coca-Cola) route.  (Why Coca-Cola?  Because it is cheap and popular but should probably carry a health warning.)  The five- or six-day climb traverses the eastern flank of the mountain, with each leg covering approximately 1,000 vertical metres and coinciding with a different ecological zone.  Thus, we ascend first through the mountain’s forested skirt, its dark folds hemmed by silver streams and gleaming with floral sequins.  At around 3,000 metres the trail unfurls across open moorland and the twin peaks, Uhuru and Mwenzi, make themselves known in the distance.  On occasion, there appears on the horizon a great maelstrom of dust and clamour, which, as it rolls nearer, reveals itself to be the mountain rescue team: four men wheeling an improvised stretcher that looks like a door glued to unicycle.  The first time we encounter this onrushing omen we’re understandably fretful, but we’re soon reassured by the good cheer of the stretcher-bearers, who sing and joke as they hurtle down the mountain with their unconscious quarry.  (Clearly fans of a certain German philosopher…)  Other returnees are slightly more vertical though often no less broken; ‘are they the ones that made it’, we wonder aloud, ‘or the ones that ruined themselves trying?’

Day three is an alpine desert, literally and mentally.  Features on the trail, targeted as milestones, appear, like the charging knights in that Monty Python scene, perennially out of reach, while further still the mile-proud peak taunts us with its indifference.  By the time one reaches Kibo Hut (4,730m), the prospect of tomorrow’s climb seems about as appetising as the cucumber soup we’re served at dinner, not least because tomorrow’s climb starts in just six hours, at 12 a.m. sharp.  Between then and now, one is required to negotiate a string of ultra-banal tasks – eating, resting, visiting the little boy’s hut – which, on account of a lack of oxygen and an overabundance of underwear, are rendered epic undertakings in themselves.  Thus, it is with a curious mix of abject fatigue and raw adrenalin that we set off through the midnight dark to begin our summit attempt.

Now this may hard to believe, but the six-and-a-half hours it took to reach Uhuru seemed to fly by. Needless to say, it was not in any way fun, but nor was it wholly unpleasant.  My main sensation, in fact, was tedium, a pure, crystalline boredom that in time became so acute it induced a warm and fudgey hypnosis.  For the entirety of the ascent, your sensory stimulation is limited to a) the feeling of listless plodding, b) the sound of heavy breathing and c) the sight (lit by head-torch) of the back of your guide’s boots.  If you’re lucky, you might have d) the taste of impending vomit and e) the smell of dinner revisited (altitude plays havoc with one’s gas levels) to add to the equation, though these are but momentary distractions.  The only real respite is the summit itself…

As the sun prizes open the firmament, we are greeted with a sight of untold majesty: ok, it’s still the back of our guide’s boots, but now the boots in question are rounding the crater rim, with ice fields to one side and the parched mouth of the volcano to the other.  Shadows shorten, and in no time at all (well, another mind-numbing hour) we’re standing on the rooftop of Africa, surveying the continent, laughing at tragedies, queuing for a photo with the sign.  And no sooner has the shutter clicked than we’re off again – this is no place for loitering – surfing down the mountain on a tide of scree.  This is pretty much the story for the next two days.  Our route down is the same as the one we took up, which means no new scenery but lots of fun to be had with those en route to the top.  (The words ‘good luck’, we discover, uttered with a knowing smile, can fill people with both bonhomie and utter foreboding.)  Gradually, life returns to the mountain, and with it civilisation.  At this point, our interest in the latter extends no further than showers, beer and Internet, which we seek out (in this order) once back on flat land. 

A week later, the clouds clear momentarily and the mountain graces us with a view from the plateau. A curious feeling consumes us, one probably common to all ‘real’ mountaineers; it’s nothing more profound than ‘I was there’, and strangely, there’s nothing more exhilarating.

Epilogue

In the spirit of broadcasting standards, I should point out that other Kili trekking routes are available.  While Marangu is doubtless your best option if time and money are limited, most trekking companies would recommend one of the longer routes (Machame, say, or Lemosho), all of which promise a greater chance of reaching the summit.  Moreover, unlike the Marangu, these other treks don’t jag back on themselves, which means a greater variety of scenery and far fewer mid-mountain traffic jams.  While the latter do tend to dispel any sense of tranquillity that might be accrued on the climb, the Marangu route still offers some awesome scenery, great views and a decent range of trekking.  If you’re after something much more than this, you’d be better off looking elsewhere.

This post was written by travel writer David Jobanputra, who climbed Kilimanjaro via the Marangu route in Summer 2011. Find out more about David here.

Kilimanjaro Quick Guide

ben on 11th January 2012 | 0 comments

If you’ve only got 5 minutes this quick guide to Kilimanjaro is for you. We’ve attempted to answer all the questions in (around) 140 characters. If you want more detail, check all the articles on the right of the page.

Sell it to me?
Its Africa’s highest mountain with rainforest, moorland, glaciers, lunar landscapes and insane altitude. Pu simply, it is an iconic & monumental achievement.

When is the best time to climb Kili?
Its possible year round. Avoid Jul-Sep + xmas/new year to miss crowds. Avoid April, May and November if you don’t like rain. Best month = June

Which route should I do?
Depends on your priority; tight budget? Marangu is cheap but summit prospects not great. Hate crowds? TK Rongai and TK Lemosho quietest. Machame good all-rounder

How comfortable will I be?
Marangu uses basic huts (bunk bed sponge mattress), other routes camping (thunderbox loo, 2 man tents, sleeping mats)

How tough is Kilimanjaro?
Its possible for anyone with reasonable fitness. It is a big test of stamina, patience and determination. Biggest hurdle is altitude sickness

Do I need specialist kit?
You’ll need to splash out on some good trekking kit, breathable layers, waterproofs, insulated jacket, walking boots and 4 season sleeping bags essential.

How much does it cost?
Prices start @US$1300 Marangu route. Machame starts @$1600, +$300 for quality operator. Other routes more. Rates include airport transfers + hotel either end.

Why should I choose Tourdust for my Kilimanjaro climb?
Simple. We’ve picked the best local operators for different routes (Horses for courses). Get independent first hand advice, pay lower prices.

What is it like at the summit (Uhuru Peak)?
Icebergs, lunar landscape, views (if lucky). Downside of crater summit is no distinguishable peak. Main emotion is relief.

How can I avoid crowds?
One or all of: Choose a quieter route (TK Rhongai / TK Lemosho), a quieter month (e.g. June), summit during the day, stay in crater camp.