Figuig, an oasis in the desert

Figuig is a fairly large town close to the Algerian border in North Eastern Morocco. Once a thriving gateway between the two countries it is now an isolated outpost. Since the closing of the border in 1994 there has been a decline in the towns prosperity, with many people choosing to leave. Consequently parts of the historic quarter of the town have started to fall into disrepair.

Despite this decline some of the traditional crafts remain and the dates from the palms are revered, so that the old waterways have continued to be used and maintained, and the town hasn’t lost its integrity.

To quote Wikipedia,

Figuig or Figig (Arabic: فجيج, romanized: Fijīj; Figuig Berber: Ifeyyey) is an oasis town in eastern Morocco near the Atlas Mountains, on the border with Algeria.

The town is built around an oasis of date palms, called Tazdayt, meaning “palm tree” in the Berber language, surrounded by rugged, mountainous wilderness. Modernization has somewhat raised the standard of living, and drawn much of the town’s population away, so that it is now struggling to reach stability. Its population in 2014 was 10,872, down from a peak of 14,571 in 1982.

The Ksour Range is a mountainous area extending between Figuig and El Bayadh.

The palm oasis

The first thing that strikes you about Figuig is the sheer number of palm trees. Tens of thousands spread across the oasis, interspersed with the houses and dotted with the towers of the mosques.

The intricate waterways channeling the water throughout the groves like some kind of ancient computer game, directing it to where it was needed, the large storage tanks like swimming pools, hidden among the palms and the patches of crops being grown between are still a throwback to the traditional methods used many years ago.

The ruins

A combination of caravans passing along the routes through Morocco, pilgrims on their way to Mecca and other travellers helped Figuig prosper. Seven fortified districts developed over the years, each controlling its own palm groves. Each district contained densely packed houses, or riads, centred around an open courtyard.

Large areas of these have now fallen into ruins, but you can still wander around among them imagining what the day to day life used to be like. Portions of mud and stone walls still standing, parts of defensive towers hinting at the struggles between factions.

The narrow streets

A walk down the hill through the plam groves took us to an older, more traditional part of the town. Mud and straw houses with tiny streets running around and underneath them so you can move about away from the heat of the sun. Not much wider than a pavement they form a network of twists and turns, dead ends and switchbacks resulting in a literal maze. Fascinating, although we have to admit to getting completely turned around and spent far longer than intended trying to find our way out again.

The Rally

After all the wandering around we returned to the van for a rest and a cuppa Figuig had other ideas however. Unbeknownst to us there was a rally planned in the parking area where we were.

We got an inkling something was going on when we started to see a few more people gathering than normal. Then a couple of police appeared, but didn’t approach us to move. Officials in high viz jackets arrived as the number of people gradually increased. Next up a PA system is set up and before we know it we are slap bang in the middle of it all.

Lots of passionate speeches, chanting, flag waving (including the Palestinian flag), cheering and clapping. It was all good natured, full of passion very noisy and a little intimidating, but at no point did we feel threatened. I would like to think that the police would have asked us to move beforehand had our presence there been a problem.