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The 2009 Painted Lady migration to northern Europe and British Isles was one of the largest on record and it was predicted by Constanti following a visit to the Souss Valley in the Spring. Here he recorded thousands of caterpillars near Taroudant. And we are really excited to visit the site. What will we find?
Our hotel is booked up so this morning we have to find another before we can head out. Taroudant is an ancient, red-walled city and a maze of narrow streets with the usual clutter of tiny overstocked grocers, one room shoe factories, and on-street mechanics. This is the heart of the fruit and vegetable producing region of Morocco and the souks are full of fresh produce. We find a lovely little B&B just outside of the ancient walls and we head out.
Constanti has labelled this famous site as 'Abocador' and that's where we heading today. We enter the location into our GPS and hit 'find'. The road is chaotic and full of trucks, cyclists, and scooters. Immediately outside of Taroudant heading east our gps beeps. We're here! Hmmm... have we got the location wrong? Did we type in the wrong latitude or longitude? We stop anyway. It's an area of rough ground beside a dried-up river bed (Oued) - and it's full of rubbish.
The Souss Valley is the most fertile valley in Morocco and it provides most of the fruit and vegetables for Morocco. But here on the outskirts of Taroudant the dusty land is dead flat for miles. There are high-walled orangeries interspersed with the occasional half-finished house, shop, or pharmacy. Large expanses of waste ground stretch into the distance. It is midday and the call to prayer drifts over the land and there's a whiff of sheep and goat dung on the warm breeze. Spiny shrubs inpenetrable to the goats and sheep abound and are everywhere adorned with blue and brown plastic bags. Half-hearted heaps of rubbish are strewn about. It is grim. We find thistles and some tiny mallow plants in amongst the rubbish. But no caterpillars or adult butterflies. We get back into the car and have another search around for a signpost or something called 'Abocador'. But find nothing.
Okay, all is not lost. Onwards to the next site which lies to the east. Following the GPS we head out into the countryside. It is a far cry from Ireland, very dry under a cloudless, azure sky. We cross the Souss River and it is completely dry. It was dammed in the 1980's and now only rarely flows below Aulouz. We meet the ubiquitous Moroccan police but they seem to have little interest in tourists. We pass ragtag buildings, desperately ugly villages and isolated houses.
A roadside in the middle of nowhere is another of Constanti's sites. It's a little more inviting than "Abocador". A wizened Argan tree gives a little shade, the road is flat, straight and empty for several miles in each direction and we stop near the solitary tree. In the shade a young man is engrossed in afternoon prayer. It's an awkward silence, broken by the chirp of crickets. In the dry bed of a small oued are some thistles - there is hope. Phew! Success! We find one little Painted Lady caterpillar! A couple of white butterflies fly by and they turn out to be the Small White. It is the most common butterfly in Morocco and a familiar insect in Ireland. After more searching without success we head back to Taroudant. A little disappointed but armed with much more information than when we arrived. It is a steep learning curve.
Back at Dar Randigaba - a small place run by a very friendly, English-speaking Moroccan we google 'abocador'. It translates as Catalan for 'dump' - thanks Constanti! At least we were in the right place, but where were the Painted Ladies?
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