Moroccan Odyssey Day 22

Morocco Day 22: Goats in Trees

Today we enjoyed the piece de resistance of Moroccan travel. You might think you’re hallucinating from too much sun and mint tea when you see them: a  goats, perched high up in a thorny argan tree, staring down at you like furry, judgmental vultures. But nope — they’re real. THIS IS NOT PHOTOSHOPPED!

The argan tree produces little olive-sized fruits with a sweet pulp that goats absolutely love. Unfortunately, nature, in her infinite sense of humor, decided that these fruits should grow way up on spiky branches — so the goats just said, “Fine. We’ll climb the tree.”

                  

What happens next is a sort of ecological Rube Goldberg machine (similar to the Kapa Lua coffee made famous by Morgan Freeman in "The Bucket List", but replace monkey with goat)

1. The goats eat the fruit.

2. The fruit goes through the goat (this is the part where biology gets interesting).

3. The goat leaves behind the argan seeds in a neat little “gift” for local farmers.

4. The seeds are cleaned, roasted, and pressed into argan oil, which is then sold worldwide for more money than the goats will ever see.

So yes, that expensive bottle of Moroccan argan oil you bought for your hair? It’s goat-processed.

Our guide, Younes, called his pal the goatherd before we showed up and asked him to bring the flock near the road so we didn't have to wander through the 500 acres of argan forest to find them. 

The goatherd was happy to have us cuddle the baby lambs that were only weeks old, hoping that the ladies would want to take one home.  I have to admit they were pretty cute.

After prying Suzanne and Molly away (Jeri had a little more self control when it comes to animals),  we stopped at a winery (yes, even in a Moslem country that prohibits alcohol consumption except when it doesn't) for a tour and lunch.

The wine industry is really suffering here due to the 7 year drought and the hot Sahara winds related to global warming.  Much of the grape crop was desiccated and decimated leaving the vintners no option other than importing grapes from other regions.  

Lunch was in a beautiful garden next to a pool. We had multiple bottles of wine which we barely touched given the big drinkers that we are, and offered the remains to a Dutch woman who was there running wine tasting tours. Didn't want it to go to waste.