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After some hours of driving we came closed to Guelmin when we spotted something unexpected in the shimmering air. Water. We first thought it was a fata morgana but it was no hoax. We had passed the Anti Atlas and obviously reached the area where the rivers heading east from the Atlas mountain range had completed their 180 degree bow and were running west to the Atlantic. Their beds are usually running dry in the flat barren landscape but the locals had built a dam and managed to hold back enough of the precious liquid to keep an oasis alive and even build a little pond. We got a glimpse of how somebody close to dying from thirst must feel when finally finding some water.
We put aside the fear of worms – we had read warnings that the waters in Morocco host some nasty ones – and jumped in for a very refreshing swim. The water had about 25 degrees but it still felt cool in comparison to the blustering air and gave us back some energy.
Back at the van a local approached us and started talking to us in German. He invited us to come over to the oasis. First we went to the house of a friend of our new friend. We had some mint tea, talked a bit and mentioned the blistering wounds of Claudia. Our friend knew help and got some paste made of henna and who knows what else that we put on the wounds. Soon we found out that our friend had not approached us completely unselfish. He told us that some Bedouins from the boarder to Mauritania were in the oasis and that they were selling / trading traditional clothing and jewellery of their tribes. We agreed to have a look and liked quite a few things.
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