There’s a little journey I’d like to take you on; if you are willing? It starts on a roadside about 4 kilometers outside of Marrakech, and finishes at L’Amandier and the brick-encased stair tower of villa 5. The vision is that the villas rise up out of the red earth and become a natural part of the scenery. The render will blend with the earth tones and be rustic in its finish. But the stair towers are to be finished in regimental rows of thin handmade bricks, adding lines of perspective and an alternative texture.

Last week saw the completion of the Villa 5 tower.

As I watched the rows increase upwards under the guidance of a 4 man team (a man to mix cement, a man to smooth the brick edges, a man to pass the various tools of the trade, and a man to expertly lay the bricks), I was inspired to find out exactly how these bricks had come to be.

We found a community of brick-makers who make the very type we are using. Earth kilns, mud pits, and chaotic stacks of bricks along the roadside meant it was hard to miss. It was fascinating. And hot. And the language was a challenge (not much French spoken here…). But, through much gesturing and pointing, the simple, but labour-intensive process was explained.

The mud is brought from a pit, piled on the sun-parched ground and then scooped up in a large handful by the first man in the production chain. Using a 2-brick-shape version of a cookie cutter, he dollops the mud into the mold, directly onto the sawdust covered earth. Removing the mold, he is left with 2 bricks shapes which are allowed to start their drying process in the sun. This process is repeated over and over until there are ordered rows of sun-baked bricks.

At a certain point, when they are firm to the touch, the drying bricks are collected in pairs and handed over to the guy in the shade. He wields a cutter that slices the edge of the bricks – particularly for the Bejmat tiles that are ubiquitous in Morocco. (Incidentally, the best quality Bejmat comes from Fes, which is where we will source our floor tiles for L’Amandier.) The off-cuts are taken and recycled back into the mud pit.

The mud kilns are fed with sawdust through an opening at the bottom and the real high temperature heat is provided (unfortunately) by burning old car tyres. Noxious fumes are produced and it is clear (unsurprisingly) that a conscious regard for the environment is not high on the list of the brick-makers priority. I took solace in the fact that these guys are employed, the materials are natural and also local. Surely that has to count?

The bricks leave the kilns baked to a red earth colour and are stacked neatly, awaiting the next purchase.

The guys were incredibly accommodating and more than happy to guide us through the process, to the point of encouraging us up rickety ladders to peer down inside the kilns. One guy squatted beside a brick pile, patiently feeding a litter of the tiniest, scrawniest kittens you ever saw, with boiled egg crumbs, whilst the tea vendor stopped to chat and dispense thé de menthe to the thirsty artisans from his rickety trolley. Who knew that the journey of a brick could be so interesting? Or is that just me…..?

Related posts:

1. Starting the villa finishings
2. Site Visit January 29th
3. Divine