These bright orange plastic bottles hanging on tree along the side of the road, indicated that there is a small family run olive press here, and you are able to buy olive oil. In other words, a very effective, non-verbal shop sign.
Seeing the cooking facilities in the local Berber home I visited makes me realise how lucky we are in England, and how much we take our easy life for granted!
This is their oven, here is where they cook all the family meals. Having to bend down to ground level to cook would kill my back as a start, and I am so used to being able to flick on a switch the the cooker comes to life.
We were able to visit a flour mill along the side of the road, where they use the fast flowing melted ice water in the irrigation channels to power the mill. It is very traditional and simple, but works well, and that is all that matters.
Not too sure where to store thisw tip, but the Berber people are amongst the most firendly you could wish to meet. This chap is aged somewhere from 40-80, and looked after the mules carrying our luggage to our mountain hideaway. He's probably the happiest person I've ever met, and who can blame him