6 - 9 October 2014

After packing away our stuff, we repeated the same morning routine (slurping tea/coffee and munching pancakes on the Djemaa el Fna) before heading to the bus station. In the taxi on the way our driver explained very vividly and slightly manically what exactly is celebrated during the sheep killing festival - although we got the gist, some details were still a bit hazy. At the bus station we managed to buy two tickets on a bus to Azilal, something that was claimed impossible the day before. We spent a couple of hours drinking tea in a nearby cafe bar where a room full of Moroccan men were betting their lives away. By noon we headed to our bus and we spent the rest of the afternoon cruising through the High Atlas.


On arrival in Azilal it took us less than five minutes to find an enthusiastic grand taxi 'fixer' who paired us up with a driver, a rusty Mercedes and four co-passengers, all heading to Tabant. Two hours on a shared front seat later we arrived in Tabant, a tiny village perched in the center of the Aït Bougomez valley.



Luck was on our side, almost immediately we fell into the arms of a local mountain guide and gîte, Abdul. He invited us to Chez Moha, a mudbrick gîte in the village of Aït Imi. After 20 minutes of walking through corn fields and apple orchards we arrived, enjoyed some tea and homemade Moroccan biscuits, discussed our options for the next day with Abdul over a yummie couscous and headed to bed.


As became the routine we were woken at 6am by the local muezzin (and all surrounding muezzins) and after a couple of hours snoozing enjoyed breakfast of fresh bread, apple treacle and olive oil (!). We borrowed Abdul's only map of the area (a battered old millitary map which is apparently difficult to get hold of) and set off for a day of village hopping in the valley. As a good hike requires provisions, Abdul kindly lead us to the village boutique where he shouted to wake the owner for our extravagant purchase of a bottle of water and two packets of biscuits. We left Abdul in Aït Imi and set off along a well trodden path along the valley floor. Passing lush fields of fruit trees, vegetable patches and rows of corn, all irrigated with water from mountain springs - we eventually reached R'bat at the base of a col in the centre of the valley.



Given the abundance of apples it was rare to see anyone without one in their hands, unless they'd just offloaded theirs onto you. Some friendly apple wielding teenagers showed us the path over the col to the next village. Whilst the sun beat down on our heads we zigzagged up the hill past herds of goats and were treated with a stunning view at the top.

We descended the other side until we reached the village of Ifrane, where we topped up on water and sampled the delights of Berber chocolate. We perched on a couple of rocks and munched our goodies in front of the village mosque - like all buildings here also made of mud brick. It didn't take long before we were surrounded by some curious kids to whom we happily offloaded our chocolate. Continuing down the valley we passed through lots of Berber villages and a number of hours later arrived back in Tabant, ready for a well-deserved pot of tea. We made our way back to our gîte in Aït Imi where we were greeted with more tea and biscuits. Pleasantly surprised by the availability of hot water we showered away the day's dust and sweat. Over a dinner of delicious tajine we hatched a plan for tomorrow with Abdul's help who arranged a mule and muleteer for the morning.


After an early breakie - again accompanied by Abdul - we loaded our mule, bought a few snacks for lunch and set off. The path to Igoran started behind Aït Imi and took us via the mountain spring that provides Aït Imi with water. We watered the mule here and after that point the path became narrower and steeper. As the path ascended the valley we wound through dry streams which only become alive when the winter snow melts. Along the way we were mesmerised by stunning views of the valley below and the snow capped mountains around us. Eventually we reached the ridge line and marvelled at the desolate and dusty valley we were to cross.




After descending the rocky top into the valley we rolled out a picknick blanket and shared some bread and tinned sardines with Yessin, the mule driver. With the sun burning on our heads we enjoyed a little break and topped up the mule on grain. We continued our path downwards and ended up following an empty and dried-out river bed in the bottom of the valley. We bumped into friends of Yessin, who invited us over for some tea and bread in their remote little house.



With big chunks of meat drying on the walls we were reminded of the gers we stayed in in Mongolia. After another couple of hours hiking through mud brick Berber villages, the valley floor became greener and we reached our destination, Igoran. Abdul had told us there would be plenty of transport to Kelaa M'Gouna from here the following day but it became clear that the only vehicle leaving the village was going tonight. A friendly gîte owner invited us in for dinner  before deparature and before we'd finished the egg and vegetable tajine, plans had changed. We would be leaving in the morning! Our host made beds on the floor for us with blankets and we rolled out our sleeping bags for an early night.



We were woken as the sun had just started to enter the valley and we were served a typical Berber breakfast - salty rice porridge, olive oil, bread and tea. We packed up and headed across the river where we waited for our transport to be ready. The seats of the minibus we had seen the night before had been taken out and were being replaced with 30 x 55kg bags of walnuts heading to the market.



After half an hour of loading we were ready to go and hopped in the front seats (with another passenger squashed in the back on top of the walnuts). We were pleased we didn't end up doing the journey the night before as the van drove up the terrifying winding and steep unpaved path.




It took us four hours to cover 100km of hills, mountain passes and dry gorges before we reached a hot and dusty Kelaa M'Gouna. After a welcome lunch we decided to continue our journey to Ouarzazate by grand taxi. On arrival we found Hotel Royal easily, a laid back place to spend the night. After a good shower we enjoyed a pizza on a terrace and went to bed.