In search of dinosaurs

I’d had a horrendous night: sleep proved to be elusive and when I did eventually drift off in the early hours I was plagued with nightmares.

After getting up to feed the cats I spent most of the morning dozing on the sofa, as I was beyond tired.

This trip was super-last minute, as you know, and whilst it IS still a travel experience I do have work I need to do whilst here, plus I need to get everything ready for my tax return. You know, the fun stuff.

I therefore spent time working through admin and getting my blog updates complete.

This week I’ll definitely be living life like a local, as I’ll mainly be working during the day and doing normal things like housework and shopping, plus walking around the village and beach.

The lady I am cat sitting for works remotely, so this will mirror her life pretty closely. Except rather than dance, her thing is Yoga.

Neither of us surf, even though this is a surf town.

Once I’d completed my to-do, I ventured out in search of dinosaurs.

Yes, you did read that right.

The beach at Anza allegedly contains more than 323 dinosaur footprints; it’s the first site in Africa where Macropodosaurus (I didn’t make that name up) footprints have been found.

There’s a museum in the village itself, a dinosaur statue on the way to the beach and the beach itself, where the footprints were found, remains open to the public.

I navigated my way there using Google Maps, crossing the road every time I saw a dog. It really is a challenge every day to walk outside and risk being bitten again, even though I know the odds are super low.

My fear has become a phobia, I think, but I’m challenging it nonetheless.

From the far end of the village, I found an opening where cars can drive on the beach over uneven, sandy, terrain that I think once had houses on it as there are random patches of tiles in different patterns emerging from the rubble here and there.

I passed a small open air cafe, with live chickens and cockerels wandering around outside, and picked my way over stones and broken glass to the area where a line of cars were parked.

It was a cloudy evening, but the golden glow from the setting sun still lit up the beach.

As beaches go, Anza isn’t the most aesthetically-pleasing: to my left were industrial factories billowing smoke. To my right, the arc of the coastline sat beneath heavy grey clouds. The beach itself is made of course, dark gold sand and is scattered with rocks.

It’s incredibly popular with locals and surfers, however.

I didn’t see anyone surfing this evening, but there were lots of groups gathered on the beach. And the edge of the beach was fringed with a line of cars, as it is every evening.

The Google Maps reviews told me that the footprints could be found only at low tide, and that they were opposite the sign in the car park.

Positioning myself in this area, I began scrutinising the rocks but could see nothing.

Some people with two dogs following them passed and the dogs approached me. Following the advice I’d been given on how to act around dogs as a terrified person who didn’t want to show fear, I stood very still and fixed my gaze on the sea, focusing on just breathing in and out. They hovered near me for a while and then moved on.

I exhaled shakily, feeling my heart bang against my ribcage.

After some time, I noticed a weathered fisherman was watching me. As soon as we made eye contact he pointed at a patch of rocks: he knew exactly what I was seeking!

I made my way over to him, dodging rock pools and he asked in French if I spoke French.

“Un peu seulement,” I replied. Only a little.

Undeterred, he began explaining and pointing in rapid French that I couldn’t fully comprehend. He said ‘sable’ a lot and I think he was telling me some of it was now under the sand. The rocks he was showing me were also liberally coated in green algae, making it hard to discern whether I was actually looking at dinosaur footprints or whether the suggestion of them was creating reality.

I’ll attach the photos I took and you can decide for yourself.

The tide did appear to be starting to come in, as I definitely didn’t see a fraction of what the photos Google Maps showed.

I thanked the man and he returned to his fishing rod.

It was only after leaving the beach that I took the time to read the sign entitled ‘Anza Geopark’. The ground beneath it was littered with discarded sunflower seeds; they seem to be a popular snack here and this is a popular snacking spot.

Once again, I passed the cafe with the chickens and headed up a side street lined with little shops in what looked like garage units made of stone.

An elderly man and a small boy were buying bread from a counter in the wall, so I stopped and asked how much the bread was. I was told one MAD per loaf. These are the flat, round, Moroccan khobz. I bought too and continued on through the village.

I’m on an extremely limited budget whilst here, so I’m super thankful that Anza is still a place that hasn’t been consumed by tourism and where most places are for locals so charge local prices. Even so, I’m restricting eating out so that I can balance experiencing and tasting a range of local food with cooking at home on some days too.

On my way home, I stopped at Carrefour supermarket to pick up a few essentials but I will do most of my food shopping on Wednesday when the market is back in town.

After dinner, my evening was another Netflix and chill with my furry companions. This time I watched a movie a friend had recommended that was set in Morocco and it felt a little strange watching that FROM Morocco!

I also did have a little browse on the dating apps, just to see what the scene is like here. But at the time of writing there’s nothing to report on that score.

And I’m more than okay with that!