The landscape of Figuig is dotted with seven ksour that make up the town, all the same ochre colour as the earth. Each controls an area of palmeraie and its all-important supply of water. In the past, feuding families would divert these water channels to wash around the foundations of their enemy’s kasbah, hoping the walls would collapse.
The largest and most rewarding of the ksour is Ksar Zenaga , south below the ridge splitting the oasis. Paths follow irrigation channels past palm trees and gardens, then suddenly you’re among a warren of covered passages. As you tunnel between the houses, look out for some marvellous, ancient wooden doors; and watch out – you may find yourself in someone’s backyard.
The crumbling state of many ksour lets you see their clever construction: palm-tree trunks plastered with pisé, and ceilings made of palm fronds. It’s cool and dark and often eerily quiet. You may meet married women swathed in white robes, with the startling exception of one uncovered eye. It’s easy to get lost. Village children will happily guide you for a few dirham, or arrange a half-day tour through Figuig Hotel.
Closer to the upper part of town, to the west of the main road, Ksar el-Oudahir is home to a lovely octagonal minaret built in the 11th century. It’s known as the sawmann al-hajaria (tower of stone), and its design is quite unlike anything you see anywhere else in Morocco, instead echoing the minarets of Mauritania and the Sahel.
Near the minaret are two ancient cisterns, once covered but now open for children to swim: you may be tempted!
