Atlas Mountains

We went over the wild Atlas Mountains, through some stunning gorges and on to a camel trip into the Sahara. As the sun set behind us, Berber tribesmen led our camels on a two hours trek towards our tents, where mint tea (a refreshing, warming, stimulating tea, a pleasure you should never refuse) and fabulous couscous stew awaited. Only half the party slept in tents, the rest chose to sleep under the velvety cloth of glittery stars and comet tails. The atmosphere was pure and the stars glittered with incomparable brilliancy. The morning dawned calmly-no speck of cloud in the sky and no breath of wind over the dunes. On the way back an old taxi drove us to Marrakech. Its smell of oil and metal enveloped me. Strangely, it wasn’t unpleasant, but added to the sense of excitement I had.
Back in Marrakech, it was time to hit the legendary market Djemaa El Fna, the insane square where Morocco in al its madness came to hit us like a lorry. There were boys boxing, monkeys dancing, bands getting ready, men charming cobras, story-tellers ranting, and among all that food stalls, herb doctors, and inevitable henna artists. I insisted on having one of them doodling on my hands.

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Atlas Mountains

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Atlas Mountains