When we left Essaouira we drove to the Atlas Mountains with our guides Hassan and Jamal, who told us upon meeting, “We’ve been awake for 24 hours!” Hassan began the getting-to-know-you process by asking where we were from, and then saying, “American, American. Yes. Lovely-jubbly.”
Then he got a phone call from his boss and, after hanging up, said, “So, kidding. It turns out I am not your guide, actually,” because his boss had told them to go home and take a nap. So they drove us to the mountains and we met Ibrahim, our mountain guide, and Mohammed, the cook and muleteer (and Jacqueline the mule). Here are pictures from the first two days (click through for more/commentary).
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Because it was pouring, we did only 1.5 hours of walking that day.
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The landscape is mostly terraced groves (cherry, walnut, peach and other trees)
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Same creek as the first picture, from higher up.
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Mount Toubkal is in there somewhere, or behind one of those snowy peaks.
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Typical architecture for the villages in the Atlas.
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Different creek. I rented a poncho that I never used, but also waterproof hiking boots.
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In Imlil, the main town in the Atlas.
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Another view of the terraces.
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Our guesthouse and view. There was a heater and electric kettle in the room, but also slippers and warm djellabas.
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There was no shortage of amazing doors in Morocco.
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Same goes for lamps.
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View from the guesthouse, which was also occupied by a group of Swedish extreme athletes. They were much better prepared with gear than we were, but they were also planning to summit Mount Toubkal.
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Our planned route changed because one of the passes we were supposed to go to had gotten too much snow.
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Mountains, during day 2 - the first real day of hiking.
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In the morning it was about 35 degrees, and got up to maybe 55 during the day...
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...depending on how high up we were and whether we were in the sun or shade.
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Ibrahim, dont scare me.
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A blooming pinecone
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We accidentally stopped for lunch at the same time as a giant group of French teenagers from Dubai.
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When they left there were a couple of broken chairs and absolute silence.
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Clouds rolling in over us.
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I enjoyed the food SO immensely.
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Don't be this car.
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Tiny town and tinier sheep.
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Laundry spread out to dry
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TERRACES.
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In a mountain village
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I spent a lot of time trying and failing to capture where exactly we were walking on our final descent of that day. The trail is about as wide as one and a half of my feet, and what looks like flat ground in this picture was actually about a 70 degree angle down the side of the hill.
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Oh hai guys.
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Above the top of this photo, WAY up there, was where we had lunch. We didn't come down on these trails, but Mohammed and Jacqueline did.
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All the way up there - that little dip in the ridge was where we ate lunch.
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When I wasn't trying to capture the fact that we were walking on loose rocks next to a steep cliff, I was trying to catch how purple the rocks were.
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Down in the valley...but not the valley we started out in that morning.
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Someone important lives here.
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Mountain sunset
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Aramaic?
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Thatched ceiling
