In his 2002 account of traveling overland from Cairo to Cape Town entitled "Dark Star Safari," Paul Theroux remarks that to travel is to escape. The author argues that when someone embarks upon a journey he frees himself of the deadlines, obligations and expectations of his normal routine. No meetings to make, no phone calls to take. After reading about his east African sojourn, I'm convinced that the old traveler reveled in every minute of his unshackled time.
Though considerably shorter than Theroux's vanishing act, my nine-day trip offered the same joys as I scooted down to North Africa's highest mountain and then to Italy's reddest city, Bologna, with old and new friends. Free of my computer and most of the world's news, I set out to escape from Rabat for a week and a half.
The trip's first leg began with three days near Marrakesh at Jebal Toubkal, North Africa's highest point at 4167m. I traversed my overland route by car and foot with friend, American ex-patriot and current Fesi (one who lives in Fes), David. The trip not only acted as a hike but also served as one of his farewell treks around the country as his 18-month stay here comes to an end later this month.
The second leg lasted two more days and extended between Marrakesh and Fes. Stops along the central highway west of the Atlas chain consisted of the natural land bridge near Demnate, Ait Begoumez valley and Waterfalls of Ouzaid.
After a night in Fes, I spent the third and final leg in Bologna, Italy, where I caught up with an old Army friend, made some new acquaintances and took in some of the sites, tastes and cultural nuances of Italy's culinary capital.
On the first evening of the first leg, Dave and I literally arrived at the end of the road in a village named Imlil after a smooth ride through coastal plains and foothills. Our plan was to check into the hotel, trek up to the refuge the second day and then summit Toubkal mountain the following morning before returning to Imlil and continuing our trip. At the end of the first day, everything was fine, but sadly, we accomplished only two of these goals.
By 2:30 in the afternoon of the second day, we already ditched a couple layers of cold-weather gear en route to completing half our ascent to the refuge when we entered a thick, white mist that the peaks vanished behind earlier in the morning. After another 200 meters, both layers were back on as we began to navigate trails covered with slushy snow in all places except where permanent streams washed it away.
With wet feet and a biting wind at our backs, we reached the refuge after five hours on the trail. More spacious and modern than I'd imagined, we quickly welcomed ourselves to the stone lodge's fireplace, where we rubbed elbows with a few Slovenians and Spaniards and dried saturated shoes and socks. After a quick Tajine dinner, it was off to my cot, two wool blankets and some deserved rest.
The sky opened the next morning, revealing our trekking goal and each of the surrounding 4,000m peaks that were invisible only twelve hours prior. Despite the clear and calm weather, we were without technical equipment and opted to head back down the mountain after seeing two feet of fresh snow atop our trail from the night before.
In nearly half the time as our ascent, we returned to our start point not the least bit discouraged by the change of plans, ready to get back on the road to our next desination: the Ait Begoumez valley.
Though considerably shorter than Theroux's vanishing act, my nine-day trip offered the same joys as I scooted down to North Africa's highest mountain and then to Italy's reddest city, Bologna, with old and new friends. Free of my computer and most of the world's news, I set out to escape from Rabat for a week and a half.
The trip's first leg began with three days near Marrakesh at Jebal Toubkal, North Africa's highest point at 4167m. I traversed my overland route by car and foot with friend, American ex-patriot and current Fesi (one who lives in Fes), David. The trip not only acted as a hike but also served as one of his farewell treks around the country as his 18-month stay here comes to an end later this month.
The second leg lasted two more days and extended between Marrakesh and Fes. Stops along the central highway west of the Atlas chain consisted of the natural land bridge near Demnate, Ait Begoumez valley and Waterfalls of Ouzaid.
After a night in Fes, I spent the third and final leg in Bologna, Italy, where I caught up with an old Army friend, made some new acquaintances and took in some of the sites, tastes and cultural nuances of Italy's culinary capital.
On the first evening of the first leg, Dave and I literally arrived at the end of the road in a village named Imlil after a smooth ride through coastal plains and foothills. Our plan was to check into the hotel, trek up to the refuge the second day and then summit Toubkal mountain the following morning before returning to Imlil and continuing our trip. At the end of the first day, everything was fine, but sadly, we accomplished only two of these goals.
By 2:30 in the afternoon of the second day, we already ditched a couple layers of cold-weather gear en route to completing half our ascent to the refuge when we entered a thick, white mist that the peaks vanished behind earlier in the morning. After another 200 meters, both layers were back on as we began to navigate trails covered with slushy snow in all places except where permanent streams washed it away.
The Beginning: 1700m of elevation and clear skies.
At about 2300m of elevation, the sky escapes from sight.
Dave, not phased by the unexpected snow.
Someone didn't dress appropriately.
Mercifully, the wind hit them in the back. Pushing snow and hail pellets across the icy slope, at least the chill pushed its two walkers along their narrow path and not back down it. With another hour left until the refuge, the hiker figured he could overlook the discomfort caused by his saturated and now frozen shoes.
With wet feet and a biting wind at our backs, we reached the refuge after five hours on the trail. More spacious and modern than I'd imagined, we quickly welcomed ourselves to the stone lodge's fireplace, where we rubbed elbows with a few Slovenians and Spaniards and dried saturated shoes and socks. After a quick Tajine dinner, it was off to my cot, two wool blankets and some deserved rest.
The local 7-11.
Refuge...
...and Relief.
The Refuges with Mount Toubkal overlooking them from behind.
Back down the pass.
The Refuge sits in the middle, dwarfed below and to the left of the center peak.
Above the clouds.
Exceptional...
ReplyDeleteThose hiking pictures are amazing - kind of remind me of the first Indiana Jones movie.
ReplyDeletetwo thumbs up for the "big camera"
ReplyDelete