Without Aissa we would never have gone to Imziln, and would never have found this traditional pottery. No sign points to the potter, who makes traditional tagines – the clay pots used for cooking here – with archaic tools in a completely dark room.

In honour of my camera, the shutter on a tiny window was opened, but without a very high sensitivity setting I could not have photographed anything. Low-tech met high-tech. Business in handmade water jugs was slow, Aissa translated; plastic containers are lighter and cheaper.

True – and thanks to the lack of waste disposal, their remains fly around the countryside alongside myriads of plastic bags.

The family welcomed us warmly with tea, buttermilk with argan oil, and huge quantities of sweets. Thank you!

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In the Tighmert oasis near Guelmim, a charming little museum occupies an old caravanserai. Salem and his family have collected objects from everyday nomadic life, and he gives English-language tours for 25 dirhams. If the door is locked, Salem’s telephone number can be found on a prickly-pear leaf at the museum entrance. For a beautiful place to stay in the oasis, we recommend the lovingly designed Maison d’Hôtes Nomades: www.darnomade.com.

“Purely staged for tourists,” says our guidebook. If you expect nothing, it can only be good. Once you accept that the age of the nomads is over and that the few camels for sale are destined for the grill rather than a caravan, what remains is a colourful market with cows, goats and donkeys – still exotic enough for us Central Europeans. We did not see any tourists, by the way.

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For the German Water Foundation, Peter Trautwein fundamentally redesigned the fog-collector system. Special meshes capture droplets from the fog and channel them into gutters. Earlier installations, first used in Chile, had two main problems: very high wind speeds could buckle the structures, and the meshes tore under the constant strain.

The new collector is stronger and much more flexible. Different types of mesh are also being tested scientifically on the new installation. A video about the construction and operation of the system will appear on the blog soon.

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At 1,225 metres, this mountain in the foothills of the Anti-Atlas is the highest point around Sidi Ifni. The German Water Foundation selected it for a test installation of its newly developed fog-harvesting system. The summit is sometimes shrouded in dense fog, often accompanied by strong winds.

That is hard to believe in a country as hot and dry as Morocco, but we experienced it ourselves. Even the track became so wet and slippery that we had to postpone our descent from Mount Boutmezguida, and four-wheel-drive cars could no longer reach us. A donkey took over supplying the station.

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We are on our way to visit Khadayja Belhuss, a Berber woman in the Anti-Atlas. Our guide has not considered the height of our Atego, and eventually the truck can go no farther beneath the argan trees. We continue on foot and reach a farmstead built from traditional mud bricks. “Welcome” is written on the wall in one of the many Berber dialects. We assume it applies to us, even though the inscription turns out to be left over from a recent wedding.

We are working for the German Water Foundation. Khadayja is one of the many Berber women in Morocco who fetch water from a draw well every day for the whole family and all their animals. We want to accompany and film her. First, however, we greet the men of the family: two of her sons, her husband, and her father-in-law, who is over ninety. The welcome is warm. Khadayja appears from behind the house with two donkeys, and we walk to the well with her and her sons. The elder son, wearing a fake Giorgio Armani jacket, has joined only because of us and will not lift a finger to help his mother. The hierarchy must be observed, and fetching water is women’s work. Only the youngest son helps load the donkeys when no second woman is available.

After a twenty-minute walk we reach the well. Khadayja draws water and begins filling the containers she has brought. It is difficult to explain that we need time to set up the camera and must consider the sun, shadows, sound, and much more. At first everyone laughs. After we make her draw so much water that she has to pour the first containers back into the well, her patience and amusement run out. We settle for filming the donkeys being loaded and the ride home.

A chicken tagine has been prepared for what they apparently regard as an important visit, no doubt by Khadayja as well. By now it is four in the afternoon, much too late for lunch, especially as we have ordered dinner in Sidi Ifni for seven. Hospitality makes it impossible to refuse. We eat with her husband, father-in-law, and our guide. Only afterwards does the guide tell us that these are open-minded men and that Khadayja would have eaten with us if we, as guests, had insisted. Local customs can be difficult to navigate. The good woman has had a great deal of extra work because of us, and all we can do as we leave is wave at length. We feel so sorry that the next day, when we meet her husband at the market, we give him two melhafs for Khadayja – the colourful lengths of cloth worn by women in the Sahara.

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We are in Sidi Ifni on the Atlantic coast of southern Morocco. Our guide Aissa has taken us to the Sidi Zekri Quran school, half an hour away by car at the foot of the Anti-Atlas. After the boys recited Quranic verses for us, their teacher Sidi Brahim invited us to tea and flatbread with argan oil and honey – delicious!

Sidi Brahim has a positive presence that nobody can resist and seems to be held in very high regard here. He reminds us of the film “The Name of the Rose”: a Moroccan Sean Connery.

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