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As our fearless leader explained, the oases in Morocco, unlike the desert oasis where Margot was taken in “The Desert Song” tend to be one long, narrow fertile strip along the valleys, where underground water is abundant. Along these narrow strips the land is planted with Palm trees, olive trees and various fruit trees as well as grain and alfalfa which is cut and dried for the stock.

There are places where this water lies on the surface as shallow streams which I formed an unbreakable habit of falling in to. The way to cross these streams was usually stepping stones or hessian sacks filled with sand. After falling in three times I felt that I would be safe from further wetting, trotted confidently over the stepping stones and … fell in again.

There was one place where the water ran deeper - Tudgha Gorge where the river had worn a deep gorge for itself amid spectacular cliffs. I fell in there too. We had to cross the river to get to the place where we had lunch.

A road had been built along one side of the river and under the overhanging cliffs there were the inevitable stalls selling jewellery and Berber headscarves. Large groups of students were gathering and put on an impromptu display of drumming, singing and dancing. It was fun to watch and great to see them enjoying themselves in this way, solely for their own pleasure and ignoring the tourists who were milling around.

After lunch, as we drove back along the gorge there was an area which had been damned and there were a number of young men swimming. The water was very murky with rubbish floating in it and there is no way that I would have immersed myself in it but I guess that the people who lived and swam there were immune to whatever might be found in the water. We were instructed never to even clean our teeth in the tap water, let alone swim in the rivers.

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