All language subtitles for S.T.T.A.S01E01.North Africa [eng]

Africa.

There's nowhere else.

Quite like it.

A billion people speaking
thousands of languages

and a paradise of wild
animals and natural wonders.

It's teeming with
life, even in the driest

deserts, still crossed by
no man's and camp trains.

Africa is so big that
you can fit the entire

continental United States
inside the Sahara desert.

It's massive.

And I'm off to explore it.

And in order to do that, I'm going to
need a slightly different kind of train.

I'm going to take it on
in an unhurried manner.

A board of Africa's railways.

It's the ideal way to meet its
people and to experience its beauty.

It'll be inspiring.

It'll be challenging.

It might not always be possible.

From arid desert to vivid
grassland, from wild forest,

to pounding river, from
station to wonderful station.

I'm navigating a continent.

And in this episode,
traveling across North Africa

from ancient Marrakesh
to the deserts of Tunisia,

this is an undertaking
of nearly 1,700 miles.

But it promises to be unforgettable.

Oh, wonderful, man.

I love the winter.

It's 6 a.

m. I'm in Marrakesh, the
ancient former capital of Morocco.

Even the name sounds exotic.

And it's exactly that quality,
which attracts the stranger.

It's known as the Red City, because it's

7 kilometers of encircling
walls glow red in the rising sun.

Marrakesh, who said to
me, come quickly, leave

quickly, which is actually
enough in my case.

It's been sitting here since about
the time of William the Conqueror

that it was founded as a
market, bringing gold and salt

out of the solar, and trading
here with the people of the North.

And it still has that mix of
the Arabs who came here

from the East, and the Berbers who
came out of the mountains and the desert.

My North African train ride
will take the east on a line that

links the great trading cities of
Morocco, Algeria, and Tunisia.

I'll be sandwiched between the Mediterranean
on one side and the Sahara on the other.

From Tunis, I'll head south towards the
desert and my final destination of Tuzur.

But first, I have to kill some time
in the cultural blender of Marrakesh.

Now she's got a nice mouth, Marrakesh.

I love feeling a big on
the cuss of Africa here.

But what could be more authentic, is it?

It could be more Moroccan
than a couple mint tea,

except of course, the tea
was introduced by the English

when they took over Tangier,
and it comes all the way from China.

So, whenever you were in Africa,
the idea that we're coming here

on this huge journey to look for
the real Africa is just nonsense.

You'll never find the real Africa.

What you find is the mix that
created Africa from way better.

And you have to enjoy the mix,
even if it's a bit sweet sometimes.

With a long trip ahead of
me, I'll need a few supplies.

In this city, shaped
by invaders and traders

for thousands of years, there's
plenty of choice in the market.

And I've been told that
a certain purchase may

help me later to make
friends on the train.

I'll give you something to pick up.

Mm-hmm.

My way up.

Honey and sugar, hmm, I'm painting.

I get the sense that
Moroccan is like sweet things.

OK.

Because one-hundred.

I know it's the worst
French in the world, isn't it?

But we understood each other, you see?

He understood that I needed pastries.

And also that I came from London and
he could charge whatever he liked for them.

The French were the last
invaders to leave just 50 years ago,

which is why my
schoolboy efforts got me by.

But this marketplace
was founded around the

same time that the
Normans invaded England.

Here, old practices
sell even older products.

OK, this is what I need.

That is the hand of Fatima.

This is an amulet to keep me in
good luck for the whole of my journey.

Send me from home.

And how much?

Five different.

50?

50?

50, right?

No.

We're going under a 50.

150? No, it's 50.

I've spent about a 10 or a
few pastries and a bit of 10.

There's one more thing I have in mind.

And for that, I'll need
some local knowledge.

Natif is Marrakesh born and bred.

He's going to take me to the pharmacy.

Can you see all their sin and spices here?

Not just for cookery,
but to do with health.

There's a lot of health
to do with health, yeah.

This is no standard corner, chemist.

Somewhere in amongst these sacks of herbs,

heaps of spices and twigs, is
the essence of verba medicine.

The magreb lies ahead.

I need to be prepared.

So first of all, this is for the stomach.

So it's like a mint.

Is it?

Now, if that doesn't work,
and I get trouble further down,

and maybe a little bit of
touch of the, what we call,

sometimes the scooters,
we say we have diarrhea.

What should we be looking at there?

Cori, I understand.

How do I take this?

How do I do it?

He did grind it?

The grind is yet.

His explanation is so strong that
I really don't need you here at all.

I understand exactly what
he's saying, but--

Thank you, it's brilliant.

So two bags of herbs and spices will

be my long-term medicinal
protection from the rums.

But then again, this is the
city that will sell you anything.

And if the sweet mint tea and pastries
take their dental toll, then don't worry.

For the right price, you can
pick up a nearly new set of teeth.

Just one careful moment.

If you can't find it in Marrakesh,
you can't find it anyway.

The only trouble is, we
haven't got enough time to find it.

Whatever it is.

God, the Marrakesh.

Magnificent, isn't it?

Feet, zips, which, anyway?

After the crumbling soup, the train
station ushers in the shock of the new.

It was the French who
brought railways to North Africa,

but this modern, palatial station
was built by the Marrakesh.

I want to go to Fez this morning.

One hundred and ninety five.

It's a seven-hour journey, and it's costing
me about twenty quid as you can call.

This is a significant act,
beginning of a long journey.

I'm traveling across North Africa by rail.

This train is taking me three hundred
miles from Marrakesh to Fez in Marrakesh.

And then I need to get to the border,
and on into Algeria, and off this map.

What's funny is you look at this, and you

can see that the actual distance
that I'm trying to go is so tiny.

One of the joys of trains
is that you have the space

to explore, and a special dispensation
if you happen to have a film crew in tow.

It's just tremendous here to tell me
to be out here in the front of the train.

It's exactly like being a documentary form.

French colonialists
built 1,700 miles of this

line through Morocco,
Algeria, and Tunisia.

Almost the same distance
as from London to Moscow.

It was the European ideal, modernize
Africa, and do it with railways.

And in fact, in the whole North Africa,

it was Morocco that was
the last to have trains.

Because the French
beanie-- Algeria.

And they had been in
Tunisian, and then they

decided they had to
come and protect Morocco.

And these were for military
firms, because the idea was

that they needed to move
troops around originally.

They moved them at an average
speed of 15 kilometers per hour,

along well-trodden trade
routes between ancient cities.

It was rough.

Even on modern, faster
trains the old customs apply.

It's time to offer up my pastries and to
find out who I'm sharing my carriage with.

Do you work in computers yourself?

Are you a programmer? All right.

Yeah.

Are you traveling
as well with him?

Are you traveling
together? No, no, no.

It turns out that the man opposite
me is a traveling salesman.

It's a rubber medicine.

I'd want to show you.

I went to the rubber pharmacy.

That's unfair here.

For him.

OK, it didn't tell me for the hair.

He told me it was for my stomach.

But all this is good stuff.

That's good for some of this.

Yes, yes.

That's special for here.

Good.

It will show you some
medical info for Sahara.

Thank you.

No.

What do you want
to do? Toothbrush.

You want to go on the nose.

I like it.

And then I have-- No.

You like this?

Just like this?

Yes.

You don't chew it at
the end of it or anything.

Yes.

It's just to get a bit.

Now, what is this? Camel hair.

We can put someone
that's bleeding from her nose.

No.

Yeah, we'll put fire in.

Yes, yes.

And you will sniff it.

Sniff, sniff, sniff.

That's a light to it.

It didn't seem for the
hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

Hinnest hair in this machine.

15 quid for a toothbrush stick and a
lump of camel hair for a bloody nose.

Yes.

All this shopping is exhausting.

My friend?

You're very kind.

I'm very pleased to have met you.

Shotgun.

The light is the wind.

As we travel northeast towards
Fairs, the train begins to thin out.

And I settle back for the next three hours.

Fairs.

It's Morocco's third largest city
and home to a million people.

At its heart lies a huge medieval Medina.

It was founded as two
cities, over 1,200 years ago.

They blended into one and
prospered with the railway.

It's aptly being called
the endless village.

I'm looking down on the best
preserved medieval townscape in Africa.

Look at that.

What a city.

The French called
Marrakesh simply the Red City.

But they called
Fairs "lamistirios.

" Fairs is a nest of dead ends
and to discover its secrets,

you have to surrender
yourself to the labyrinth.

It won't be long before you encounter what
is known as the cultural heart of Morocco.

This is the Caroene Mosque.

The main mosque is one of the oldest,

continuous educational
establishments in the world.

It was found as the university when
Oxford and Cambridge didn't exist at all.

But I can't go any further.

I'm not allowed in it because
I'm an infidel or a hotel.

But the real reason that
we are not allowed in there

is because when Morocco
was occupied by the French.

This is overwhelming this place.

Crand with workshops.

People just making things.

It is officially the largest,
pedestrianised urban space in the world.

And it was created
1,200 years ago.

There's no real traffic here.

Everything that comes
through has to go on live.

So now let's come with
love, let's go with love.

This honeycomb of passages was
once the largest city on the planet.

Nothing is going to help me.

It's impossible not to get completely lost.

This is bit spooky, isn't it?

The whole city is like a maze
which ends in dead ends.

And that was for defensive purposes.

As you go along, you come to these huge
gates and they could shut off whole quarters.

The actual gates of the city of Fears
were locked every night up until the 1960s.

If you harbor any hope of making
sense of this place, you need a guide.

I'm done.

Now, what's in my hand?

You are a wonderful man.

You know, you know,
and I like people who know.

Ignorance is a crime, you know what I mean.

I know.

But I don't know.

I don't know.

I need you.

Abdol is one of the most
knowledgeable men in Fears.

He's been helping lost souls
like me for over 40 years.

What should I buy when
I'm in Fears? Go back.

I think it's-- Yeah?

I have a husband,
a poor-- A proof, yes.

Now, I can't have a proof.

I can't-- I'm going a long way.

Look at my face, please, in talk.

And smile, keep smiling, please.

I'm smiling.

So what's so good about Moroccan?

I think it's the best way
that you can have, OK?

Everything is natural.

Excuse me, sir.

Can I have a look at your--
These slippers here? Thank you.

Can you explain, Abdol, I
want to ask about these ones.

It's a bad thing we could be.

Oh, that's a good.

This should be a very
useful thing for me to have.

This is Hand the Crafts.

This is leather, and
this is made with goats.

Outside there, it's about took
you by mine on a lot of goats.

Many, many millions of goats.

Not a million, but helps me.

Oh, wonderful, man.

I like to wake up.

Good.

OK, I'm going to put these back.

I'm waking up.

I'm going to wake up.

I want to find natural.

I want to find the best.

OK, we'll take me to the best.

OK, let's take me to the best.

So, we set off in search of the
best, natural, hand-crafted leather.

But I really don't need Abdul.

The stench in the place gives it
away, long before we get there.

I find my friend.

Let me see you again.

Have a good time.

It gives my head.

Abdul makes his excuses.

This is one of the
city's oldest terrorists.

For over 900 years, the
artisans of fairs have been

stripping, softening,
and dying the local hides.

First for desert traders, now for
tourists and high-end fashion shops.

That's you.

Hi, I've come to learn a
little bit about leather making.

The very beginnings of the city
are based around this one craft.

They actually built fairs in this area

because of all the streams
that ran through the place.

And leather needs water.

You have to wash it.

You have to wash it again.

And then you wash it again.

And you soak it in a mixture
of lime and cow's urine.

And the cow's urine stinks like this.

Yola, Chris.

Oh, OK.

Naji was starting his new recruit at the
bottom end of the leather making process.

And it doesn't come much
more bottom-end than this.

Softening the leather in a
vat full of pigeon droppings.

That's all?

Yeah, that's all, that's all.

The theory is over.

Now it's time for the practical.

All right, now I'm very,
very nervous to do this,

because I'm going to
get in and haul myself up.

I don't know.

This is a deep pit.

I live with speedy, speedy, how long?

Does the leather? Treehouse.

Oh, I've done five minutes on that.

Oh dear, it's not the same, it's
not the workers, it's the stench.

Wonder what happens to the
leather if you throw up in it as well?

Sinking way steep into a
porridge of pigeon manure is more

than enough experience of
the world of leather for me.

But to show solidarity
with the men who do it,

dawn to dusk, I feel
the purchase is in order.

And here we are, my
primrose yellow, saffron colored.

Size eight, baboon shh, slippers.

Just remember that,
however smelly these get,

they're never going to be as smelly
as the process that made them.

It's time to leave fares.

From here the train runs east
into Algeria and onwards to Tunisia.

Sounds simple enough.

But this is North Africa.

Here is the Algerian boat.

I've taken the train
from Marrakesh to Fizz.

And it's from here that
I'm continuing my journey.

I'm travelling along a 1,700 mile route

that runs through Morocco,
Algeria and Tunisia.

But the continuous line shown on
the map doesn't tell the full story.

In order to go on, crossing North
Africa, I have to go back to you.

And take a flight few Spain
into Algeria because at

the moment, there is no
way of crossing the boat.

So, for the time being, my rail journey
across North Africa continues by other means.

So, here we are on a
beautiful morning heading on

a fast dog leg, which is
going to take us to Malia,

which is little Spanish enclave
in Spain and then back to Algeria.

But ever since
independence, Morocco and

Algeria were still very
grumpy about the border.

They keep saying they're
going to get this sorted out,

but not before I have to
get on the train in Algeria.

So, it was a 200 mile journey north
to Malia and then a flight to Madrid.

And then another flight all the way
back to the port of Iran in Algeria.

Sorry about that, I just had to pop
into Europe for a moment or two,

but I'm back now in
what is in fact the largest

country I shall visit
on this journey, Algeria.

I'll only spend a short time
here in Iran, and then my

wanderings will continue along
the southern Mediterranean coast

to the other great cities of
Algeria, Algiers and Constantine.

Despite such attractions unlike Morocco,

I won't meet many fellow
tourists here in Algeria.

Only approximately 200,000
people visit the country every year.

That's not many when you think that
the London eye gets near to four million.

It is my first time here, but the
city of Iran feels oddly familiar.

A whole place looks quite French,
like a sort of beaten-up niece.

But it isn't French, it
does worship French.

The cathedral behind me is now a library.

It doesn't dress French, the French
have been kicked out for 50 years.

But it still sits French.

There's a strong cafe culture here.

When the French were in charge,
Algeria was split into De Partimo.

Three huge regions
treated as part of France,

Algerians lost their
nation and their identity.

The railway system was considered
just an extension of the French network.

But the station here in Iran
is a striking example of how

French architects were meant
to size North African culture.

Look at this, a sort of
Arabian fantasy railway

station, like St.
Pancras in North Africa,

built by the French to
create a vision of travelling by

trade, Ali Baba, and the
40,000 horsepower locomotive.

I was nervous of coming to Iran.

I have to go, I confess that, because
there's been a lot of trouble in Algeria.

I mean, Iran itself has been a
central contention ever since the 1960s.

Basically, the war of
independence, it cost a million lives.

Pretty much started here,
when they raided the bank,

they stole 3 million
francs to pay for weapons.

Yes, sir.

Yes, sir.

Before we go, after
a little bit of a dog leg,

we're resuming my journey
across Africa by the way.

Right on tight as well.

From Iran on the Mediterranean
coast, the next stage

will take me 300 miles
to the capital, Algiers.

As in Morocco, these French built
trains are modern and comfortable.

Let's go and explore this train, shall we?

That was second class.

Very comfortable air conditioning.

This is first class.

I wonder if anybody here
wants to share my pastries.

You mind if I say it and join you.

Oh, what?

Sir, all your fans.

Okay, and you have
my mother, my sister, my

brother, my two cousins,
and my sons, your auntie.

My auntie.

Auntie, where are you going now?

We are going to adjust
to spend one week, I think.

Because the school is over.

School is finished.

Yeah, good.

School is finished.

Good, great.

I met the first years of
Dontan, Medicine Dontan.

You started to be a dentist?

Yes, I am gorgeous.

You are a biologist.

Now you, women, are very educated.

You believe in legacy of all the fans.

Women, but men, equal.

I'm experiencing a
confidence and openness that

characterizes so many
in this Muslim country.

Then again, our Jirians have had foreigners
coming here for thousands of years.

One look out of the window,
explains what they were after.

I think some people might be exposed
when you see sand in all directions,

but we are passing through
wonderfully fertile countryside.

These fields were the
making of the Roman Empire.

Two thirds of bread was
actually harvested in North Africa.

And the other third came from Egypt.

This was the bread basket.

So here.

So, very nice to meet you of war.

Algiers, the capital of Algeria,
it's also called Algiers the White.

And today, dazzlingly,
it lives up to its name.

In the 19th century, wealthy British
Victorians bought trained tickets in London,

and via France and
a passage across the

Mediterranean they
arrived in what they called.

The Orient.

They came here to
escape British winters and to

experience the exotic charms
they'd read about or seen in paintings.

They were also coming to a land of
plenty, and perhaps then hasn't changed.

The market is thriving.

It's been a long journey,
and I'm feeling peckish.

I've come here to get to
grips with North African cuisine.

Now, I'm going to meet Ritifa who's
going to show me how to make couscous.

Oh, that's for me.

Sure, okay.

couscous is the staple
dish of North Africa,

and it's made from
semolina, but type of wheat.

Everybody eats it, hardly surprising,
given the amount of the stuff grown here.

couscous will never get it rolled,
couscous, and how much do we need?

A key load of couscous.

With our ingredients secured,
we head to the Caspar, or Medina.

I'm getting used to wandering
the narrow streets of North Africa,

but I haven't yet seen what lies
behind one of the old wooden doors.

Look at this.

So this is what you discover
behind the walls of the Medina.

In here, it's beautiful house.

This is an old merchant's
house, and we're on

the ground floor here,
which is the sort of way,

sometimes they bring the
donkeys in here to unload them.

Look, here's a well.

They had usually two wells, one well,
that collected the water for underground,

and another well, which collected
the water that rained onto the roof.

And so it's sort of the
ecological house before its time.

I need to leave, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Okay, okay, okay, coming.

So we have oil, I'm sorry.

Mix each little bit of it has been
absorbed into the grain of the couscous,

so it's not become a
huge fat, guillain lump.

And now we're putting it
into this interesting mark, me.

The process is one of steaming what we
have to do is now to remove the couscous,

after 10 minutes, we're
going to put more water,

more oil, more salt,
and fluff it up again.

Put it back, cook it again.

Never has the fluffing up of a
wheat-based dish, being so appetizing.

But I tell myself a
way to visit a part of the

house that was for
many years the exclusive

domain of the women of Algeria. Traditionally,
some women would have never seen

any opening other
than this space on the

top of the roof, kept
away from crying eyes.

To the 19th century Englishmen, this
dish gave us a retatilizing vision of some

a harem of slave girls and all
sorts of naughty things going on.

And so they were fascinated by the
idea of this decadent, Oriental world.

But it's not a decadent
world. It's a paleotanical world.

And now today, what you see
emotionally, are satellite dishes.

The vapor has come up
through the chicken and the

vegetables and been
absorbed by the couscous itself.

Hm, delicious. A true Algerian
dish cooked in a true Algerian house.

After a day of domesticity in downtown
Algeria's, I want to get back on the tracks.

Time for one of the greatest
treasures of this massive country.

It's Sunday, it's the
first day of the week,

and we're just about head east to the
third great city about Algeria. Constantly.

I'm still on the same French-built railway
line that started back in Marrakesh.

It's seen suppression and revolution
uprising and quite recently, terrorism.

But as the railway system improved,
so the uses of these tracks altered,

the colonials wanted to
industrialise North Africa.

The French brought their
railways here mainly to

take things away. They saw Africa as
one giant resource which they can plunder.

And today, Algeria is actually
quite a wealthy country,

because out there are
hydrocar, natural gas, and oil.

They're still going up.
They get snow up here

in the winter, and
they have to fit a snow

bow on the front of the truck.
If I come in, minus my head lifting up.

After nine hours, just a
two-hour delay, at a steady

2,000-foot climb, the train
finally arrives in Constantine.

Top railway stations. Top railway stations.

Excuse it.

Marble and mahogany. It's a reminder
of the past elegance of train travel,

but the station feels modern in
comparison to what lies beyond.

The city may be named in honour of the
Roman Emperor Constantine the Great,

but for me, the Arabs got the
name of this extraordinary place right.

They called it the city of the air.

It's spectacular. A
famous Algerian poet said,

"You do not introduce
Constantine. She introduces

herself and you salute
her." The citadel of rock

has been fought over
for thousands of years.

If you wanted to control Algeria, you
first had to control this natural fortress.

This gorgeous 300 feet deep. They originally
built a city here 3,000 years ago,

the new medians, and
they were kicked out by

the Phoenicians. Then
the Romans came and then

the moors came here and
the moors were attacked

by the Christians, so
they called in the Turks

and the Turks ruled it until the French
decided that they'd come and taken over,

and then 50 years
ago they went as well.

And now the Algerians
last have it for themselves.

And beautiful as these
bridges are, they were

sometimes the last thing ever
seen by adulterers or thieves.

Punishment has dispensed by
local justice. Was a long drop.

But in a short while the summer will be
setting over Constantine, but as for me,

I've got to go off in
the other direction and

head further eastwards
into this fast continent.

I'm going to leave Algeria,
the biggest country in Africa,

in order to cross into
one of the smallest,

Tunisia, where I'll reach the end of
the line and the end of my journey.

I'm travelling through
North Africa, and my trip

so far has taken me 1,500
miles through Morocco

and Algeria, and now in Tunisia.
Once again, the border was closed,

it wasn't possible to cross by train, so
I've jumped straight to the capital, Tunis.

But before I go on, I've got
time to freshen up at my hotel.

This morning is as
good a time as in here to

try out my connection
to Berber Cosmetics.

I've got my nose bleed
camel hair, and after

the bottle, if I get upset, it's done my
kind of best to take about half of that.

I'll send it in half, but this,
this is my portable toothbrush.

Eight out of ten dentists
reckon that all are all tree.

About 50p's worth of stuff
there, because I'm worth it.

We're actually now at
the very furthest northern

point of Africa, but
there is one place,

one magnet, one fantasy,
and that's the desert.

The south is where
I really want to go.

And so did the French because they wanted
to build railways through the deserts.

In fact, they dreamed of a railway line
that would run across the entire Sahara

to join up all their African colonies.
But on this, the last train of my trip,

I'm travelling as far
south as they got to serve.

We're on the morning
train, we should take about

nine, nine and a half hours,
and it might take longer than that.

As we leave the Mediterranean climate,
it gets noticeably drier and hotter.

This whole train is gradually falling
asleep. The heat is building up.

And outside, yeah, it's shimmering as
we get closer to the edge of the desert.

There's nothing but
sand on either side of us.

It's not immediate to
obvious why the French

built this line. But in
1885, French geologists

discovered massive
deposits of phosphates

under the sand and
phosphates make fertilizer.

There are hundreds of
phosphate wagons here.

That's why this railway was built to
take this new gold out of the Sahara.

But the French continued
south, following an

ancient trade route
that had shipped another

more established
treasure out of the desert.

It was estimated in the
12th century by an Arabic

geographer who went to
the way we're going now,

that a thousand camels and a loaded with
dates were leaving to cross the Sahara.

This is the end of the
line. It looks desolate,

but hidden underground of vast amounts of
water, trapped in ancient permeable rock.

And when the water is drawn to the
surface, miraculous things can happen.

We're on our way to
a date farm, now there

are a quarter of a million
date trees around here.

There they are, lying like a
sort of forest in the desert.

Tunisia still exports 20
billion dates every year.

Sammy is going to show me how
they all get picked, which is by hand.

And when you've been irrigating
and growing food in the desert

for thousands of years, you
get very clever about cultivation.

They have a sort of
three-tier system of roots,

so just here they have
ground water plants,

which are like tomatoes
and things like this, little fields.

And then alongside they have

slightly deeper rooted
trees, like pomegranates or

fig trees, like these,
and tiring over them all,

they have the huge monsters with their
roots deep in the earth, the date palms.

Luckily, this is a sort of natural
ladder being provided here.

People have to get
up into here to pollinate

them because they're
a male and female trees,

but not enough bees, so they
have to be pollinated by hand.

They then have to prune them and

take out the smaller dates
so that big dates get really big.

Then at the end of October, they
pluck them by hand. And huge numbers

of people come here
and clamber up into this

thorny monstrosity and
start getting them down.

I'm not quite sure
how we do get down.

Semi, how do we get down?

Okay, so that's how you get down.
It's in junior, isn't it?

I've come 1,700 miles
across three countries.

I followed row ways
built for colonization,

along North Africa's
ancient trade routes, which

have brought me to
this, the desert's edge.

It's not hard to see why the French dream
of a trans Sahara train line could never

amount to anything more than a mirage. From
here on out, camel trains do rather better

than diesel trains. So,
I'm stopping here, but I've

taken on North Africa,
the land between the sea

and the sand, and it's
been quite an odyssey.

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