Crossing Paths with the Locals...

I walked ahead with Khaled and learned about life in his mountain village, which just got electricity last year. It was disappointing to learn that after studying physics and math at Marrakech University, he was unable to find a job in his field and resorted to being a mountain guide. While we were enjoying the fresh air and the views during our leisurely hike, the local women were working hard doing their laundry in the creek, which helped remind me how easy my life is.

When I turned back, I saw the rest of our group high on a ledge overlooking the women scrubbing clothes down below. I was torn between feeling guilty about being so spoiled while visiting their region versus appreciating that the money that we spend on tourism can actually help the area.

This group of girls had their hands out when we crossed their path, not to beg, but to shake each of our hands.

After seeing how sweet they were, we felt bad that we didn’t have anything to share with them. Jimmy asked Khaled if he’d help us find some balls and school supplies in the next city so that our kids would have something to give the next group of children we encountered.

A Makeshift Bridge...

At one point on our hike we needed to cross a creek. I know I have long legs, but I’m still not crazy about jumping across rocks. Khaled set to work to place additional rocks to create a makeshift bridge. It wasn’t really necessary because there was another spot nearby which the kids used to cross, but he was determined to make things easy for me and Vivynne. He really spoiled us!

After Vivynne and I made it across without getting wet, silly Jimmy just slogged right through the water.

A Mountain Hike...

Our adventure for the next day was a hike, which we started after another hearty breakfast. It was still a bit cold, but quickly warmed up as we ventured down the mountain.

Looking back at the village of Tourza

There was a strong contrast of colors between
 the fertile greens and the dry browns and reds. 

One of the local villagers joined us to help Khaled find the best route down. We were often on well-worn paths, but occasionally veered off as Khaled forged his own trail. While I did get nervous about falling on a few rocky sections, it was an awesome hike.

Traditional Berber Food...

Khaled, Hussein and Mustafa are all Berbers, the indigenous people of North Africa west of the Nile. The Berbers were conquered by the Muslims in the 7th century, but still make up the majority of the population speaking up to three Berber dialects. Their cuisine was simple, but tasty. We ate a lot of couscous over the week. Ashlynn loved the chickpeas.

I didn’t realize that when I told Khaled that the girls and I don’t eat four-legged creatures that he’d instruct Hussein to exclude meat from all our meals. Max was greatly disappointed about the lack of beef, but the chicken was delicious.

I was happy that there were a variety of veggies served with every meal.

A Night in the High Atlas Mountains...

We spent the night in the Berber village of Tourza. We thought that Gite Tighza (the building on the right) would be like a guesthouse in Europe, but in actuality it was a youth hostel. We weren’t quite prepared because we didn’t have towels, but at least I remembered the toilet paper and soap. It was cold, but the views were great from the porch where we had afternoon tea.

Vivynne, Tony, Jimmy and I took a short hike before dinner. The moon was quite dramatic as it rose over the hill behind us.

The kids were happy to have a quad. There was no heater, so we were glad that extra blankets were provided.

Hussein cooked us a feast in our private dining room, which luckily had a space heater; the room opposite was filled with kids on a school backpacking trip.

Our Mule Ride...

It didn’t take long to leave the drabness of the parking lot and enter the beauty of the mountains. We really didn’t know what to expect, but we were surprised by all the colors.

There were four handlers that walked the 1.5 hour route with us. Our gear was all repacked into a smaller vehicle that drove up this same dirt road to the village where we’d be staying.

This young girl stayed beside Veronica the whole way. I thought they were talking because I could hear voices, but they actually couldn’t understand each other at all.

I must confess, I wasn’t crazy about this form of transportation as it was pretty uncomfortable. However, the views more than made up for the discomfort.

Meeting our Mules...

Eventually Mustafa turned the minibus off the highway onto a dirt road. He pulled into a dirt parking lot. It didn’t look like much of a destination; I wouldn’t even call it a village as there were only three buildings. However, there were people there waiting for us to begin our first big adventure: riding mules up to a traditional Berber village. As you can see, we didn’t have saddles or reigns, merely blankets and a rope.