Journey of a Cloud: Les Cascades d'Ouzoud

28th November
David, John, Cosmo (Melbournians), Jo (fellow traveller from America) and I
head off for the cascades of Ouzoud. We take a bus to the villiage Demnat,
where we hussle ourselves a cheap dorm to share, drop off our luggage, and
ask our hostel-man to find us a 'grand taxi' driver. In Morocco you have
taxis - which take maximum 3 people for an expensive price, and 'grand taxis'
which have set routes, for which everyone pays a set price each. The problem
is that tourists are always made to pay more than the locals. That hadn't
become a stress for us yet, however. So we squish into this guys taxi and
drive over to a touristy little hilltop.
It was the same in cappadocia; the way your surroundings look so normal,
so usual, and you doubt your close to anything really special.
And then you reach the edge of the trees to the cliff face - or the hill top -
and are struck by the deep cut in the earth, reaching into a wild valley where
waters crashing madly down down down until you have to squint to see if its
another person down there or not.
That you didn't expect it makes it feel surreal, at first, and it also makes
you wonder all the other little holes in our earth you might not have seen on
the bus trip. What other mind blowing wonders lye just beyond the corner, where
we might not bother look.

The waterfall is tall, and like a fancy fountain, takes many streams and circuts
down the cliff giving off an illusion like it has viens - or roots - and thus a life
of its own.
We wandered along the cliff face, turning our necks backwards so that we could see
the waterfall all the while. We stopped at one grassy point along the route to admire
the view, and right after wondering aloud where the monkeys were, a little tribe comes
climbing into view. Papa crawling up the front, a fat and proud little beast, followed
by a Mama Monkey who carried a baby bubba scrawled on her back.

Monkeys are intriging, because you can relate so much to their gestures and expressions.
Yet we still feel so far away to them, mostly due to our social norms I think.
We watched the monkeys for a long while.
We got lost down the valley, admiring how the olive trees hold little islands of earth
in their tentacles as the rest of the mountain has melted down. And the rocks - with
amazing patterns exemplifying the magic of water pressure.

Sunset was amazing, as the rocks lit up pink blue gray into fuzziness so that we could
only hear the crashing water, and let our noses guide us back.

It happened on the taxi drive up too, where the driver let David take the wheel (taxi
drivers who dont speak english always assume we can drive) while he put something
black out of foil and into his teeth. It sped up the drive home, and after we asked
(through a charade-like conversation) we discovered it was a speed like drug.
...
but the town od Demnat was beautiful. The food was given to us at a local person's price,
and the residents were dignified and respectful. It's the poorer looking towns where
it seems the people work more harmoniously. the streets are colourful with fruit stands
and people of all sorts wheeling carts of eggs or dates or clementines.
It was in Demnat tat I decided clementines were my favourite food, and they probably were
great at the time but I recomened you dont overdo them or else you develop an unhappy belly.
Or maybe it was the walnuts I ate with them.