Where the Wild Things Are: The Road to Morocco
February 1, 2008
We cannot drive into the old city center. Completely encircled by crenellated
walls, it contains a grid of narrow pedestrian streets crowded with spice and
fish markets, innumerable vendors and a bustling populace. Our hotel, the
L’Heure Bleue Palais (www.heure-bleue.com), sits just inside the walls, and
occupies a four-story structure dating from the 19th century. Small windows dot
the hotel’s relatively non-descript whitewashed façades, but colonnaded
galleries surround a lavish courtyard of fountains and palm trees. In the
morning, calls to prayer echo off the front of L’Heure Bleu from the mosque
across the street; at the back of the hotel, however, I hear only the insistent
crowing of roosters.
The day’s route takes me inland, where crumbling fortresses of
red-hued stone and ancient villages dot the low hilltops. I head to Argantou, an
oasis located in a deep ravine and accessed by yet another unnamed road
consisting of shallow steps carved into stone. With crumbling, ancient walls
close on either side, it takes some patience and care to wind down a pathway
more suited to horses than cars. The Land Rovers are mechanically up to the
challenge—only their width and pristine paint jobs cause concern.
It’s impossible to go anywhere without seeing goat-herders in
the local costume: monk-like robes with hoods that rise to a point. I know
they’re designed to combat the chill and the strong winds that sweep across the
hilly landscape, but the ubiquity of pointed hoods lends a quasi-mystical
sensation—the Range Rover feels almost like a UFO hovering through an alien
place. I ask a local if the design of the pointed hoods has any significance,
some special meaning. I expect a profound insight to Moroccan culture, and
receive a decidedly practical rationale. "It’s probably easier to sew them that
way," she says. The ethos parallels the glamorous Range Rover’s purpose-built
nature.
A lengthy wade through a shallow river follows our lunch of
lamb stew at Argantou, as does some serious rock crawling. Driving over rocks
demands an entirely different sensibility than driving on sand: While pressing
the gas pedal to the floor is a regular occurrence among the sand dunes, for
instance, it’s rarely even tapped when negotiating a rocky trail. With Terrain
Response dialed to the proper setting, I prepare for the slow-moving journey the
top of the hill. It will take several minutes to cover the same distance that
took scant seconds on the sand. With the assistance of Land Rover guides, who
use a simple set of hand signals to direct minute adjustments to the steering
wheel, I navigate the $92,750 car through a complicated series of rocky
switchbacks. Making the experience even more remarkable, I accomplish this feat
in the comfort of the Range Rover’s beautifully appointed interior. The
manufacturer slightly remodeled the leather-swathed cabin for the 2007 model
year with a new dashboard design, a revised climate control system and available
ventilated seats. Though subtle, the changes make a noticeable
improvement.
Before my flight back to London, I have the chance to traverse
a muddy field. (Yes, there’s a Terrain Response mode for that, too.) When a
photographer requests some shots of the car on a low beachfront bluff, I descend
the rain-soaked incline all the way to the bluff’s edge. Afterwards, it’s an
easy hike back up to the pavement. This detour underscores for me a Range
Rover’s real value: The ability to go just about anywhere on a whim and—more
importantly—remain confident in the knowledge that you’ll be able to get back.
Land Rover, 800.346.3493, www.landroverusa.com
Land Rover Experience Driving Schools, 800.239.0533, www.landroverusa.com/drivingschools
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