Riad Dar Imlil

... a homestay at the base of Mount Toubkal, the highest peak in North Africa. Gorgeous! Our host was a madman named Hussein. He sang a lot. Right in your face. It was both unnerving and entertaining. Good food. More tagine for dinner, surprise surprise! No couscous this time though.<br><br>In the morning, some of us hiked partway up Toubkal. Beautiful fresh air. Nice and cool, even though it was so close to ...

... on the concrete terrace. We watch a herd of goats come out from the house across the way and scramble up the slopes with their goadherder. A few sheep and a rooster wander down the path followed by people riding mules side saddle. The houses are stone boxes built into the face of the slopes. They look like they are all grown out of each other. The whole scene is a bit like we've wandered into a bible story - except for the call to prayer across the valley.. We ...

... have lived here for centuries. In fact, Europeans had not penetrated into this region until the early nineteen hundreds and the French were only able to build a road in the forties. The Berber people of the region have perhaps taken on a personality to match the harsh environment. Or perhaps they were that way before they came here centuries ago. Regardless, they have a reputation for fierce independence, self-sufficiency, and tough businesspeople. It ...

Left fairly late this morning by most standards, and took a private minibus from Ait Benhaddou to Imlil - again going up into the snow. We went via the Tizi n Tichki pass which had some great views. Not a very exciting day of travel, but it was good to relax ...

... abaixo. Escorreguei umas tantas vezes mas sem muito perigo. Chegando la abaixo fui lavar a minha tshirt com agua da fonte e quando regressei para o pé dos rapazes tinha à minha espera uma Coca-cola. « Não obrigado ». Caras estranhas. Mmhhh, que se foda, ja deixei cair tudo, não vou agora mudar a filosofia da aceitação de caridade, « ta bem, da ca essa merda ! ». Nao me caiu la muito bem, sobretudo porque depois enfiamo ...

... a dead end road that peters off when you get to the town - Imlil is the last stop. The French built the road into the town so its sealed and in excellent condition - it must be ok to live around here as Ric************ has a holiday home.! He doesn't use it much as he is turning half of it into a hotel - its a nice looking home though - huge walls surround it - I can just imagine what it is like inside. We finally arrived in Imlil just ...

... in the next available cabs and go. When the next 2 turned up, the 6 people that had been in one piled out and all of the locals, we're not sure if they just wanted to annoy us or really wanted a ride into Marrakech, flocked the cab and seemingly filled it with more people than physically possible. We protested this with the guy who we'd been negotiating with and eventually everyone got out and let us take the cab. The other one already had 2 others in it so ...

... earth field, devoid of any vegetation. Around its perimeter were small stones and in the centre at either end, were two openings. This, he told me, was a football field - where the villagers come to play! Wow, I thought to myself, what a location - two thousand meters up in the air, surrounded by snow capped peaks! The temptation was irresistible - I set up my tripod, put the camera on a 20 second timer, and engaged Lahssen in a mock game of football. He kicks ...

... drawn to it at which time conversation started up. One of the guys names was Zachary who is a Moroccan fluent in Arabic, French, English and Spanish. The other guy is Abdul who is Berber and is fluent in Arabic, French, Spanish, and Italian but not English. Liz speaks Spanish so she was able to translate so I could understand what Abdul was saying. The only problem was, while walking around I got stuck talking to Abdul for a good 5 minutes and he would speak ...

... spiderweb. We rationalized that at least the broken part wasn't the driver's side, which became more of an important issue when the remaining glass began bowing into the bus from the force of the wind. Not willing to get behind schedule, the bus assistant (wearing a hot pink tank top reading something in grammatically unique English, featuring the word SWILTY) attempted to patch the hole with some tape, then the plastic board stating our destination, then a couple of pieces of wood ...