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Published: June 23rd 2006
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Route
Purple is grand taxi (Clapped out old Merc) Turquoise is walking and the crude triangle is the mountain We arrived in the little villiage of Imelil, a quiet place nestled in the foothills of the Atlas mountains. It was a strange place, with a lot of men sitting around doing nothing, but it was clean, quiet and far removed from the tourist and Lonely Planet trails.
Our room was cheap but was also cold, damp and slightly depressing with no one else staying around the rather large courtyard. We spent the first evening squashing flies that kept slapping us in the face the minute we turned the light off. Despite this it was such a nice change to hear the call of the Imman echoing through the mountains as all of the calls came together at the same time from the different valleys.
We woke up and made out way on our little expedition first zig-zagging up and up through a small forest and up steep cliffs by which time the sun was blazing. The track passed through a small Berber mountain village where we were set upon by young pen-demanding fiendsm we then had breakfast of bread and jam under a tree in what Alice dubbed 'The Desert of Nightmares' - a huge expanse of gravel, baking in
The hills begin
Taken from the speeding old Merc the sun (a dreind up river basin).
We escaped the desert by climbing steep foothills where the view opened up and we were rewarded by jagged looming mountians, cascading waterfalls and our first glimpse of snow. We stopped in the last Berber village on the trail for mint tea with an old man who, with wrinkeled eyes, showed us the path out of the village where we were to continue our ascent. The next stop was high up on a rock where we enjoyed crisp and cheese triangle sandwichesm after this it was a pure slog with our hopes dashed every time we expected to see the refuge.
When the refuge eventually came into view it looked most unwelcoming, grey and cold with huge crows circling ominously overhead. Inside it was not much warmer or more welcoming, full of hardcore French hikers with short-shorts on and sock pulled up to their hips. However, the dinner we were made was delicious and hot - exactly what we needed. We 'slept' on the top bunk in a large dorm which we shared with some mould and fausty matresses along with a handful of walker types. The thick cloud rolling in and the
Packing the kit
Deciding what was 'absolutely required' howling wind made it a worry-filled night and as a result sleep was reduced to a minimum.
We set of the next morning at 5am when the light was just creeping over the mountain peaks. With the help of a headlamp, more bread and jam and some delicious Arthur biscuits (get them if you can) we made it to the summit in just under three hours. As we hugged at the pyramid marker point all the scrambling, shouting and tears seemed worth it. The views were amazing, blue mountains rolled eerily into the distance illuminated by a pale blue dawn sky. It was the highest either of us have been on land and we felt pretty smug by our achievement of 13,671 feet (4167 metres).
Then the descent began which wiped any trace of smugness of our faces.
Eight hours, one stale bread and (the most expensive) Mars bar later we arrived back in Imelil. We were walking like ducks and in more pain than either of us have ever experinced. Legs burning and a vicious combination of sunburn, windburn, iceburn and blisters made the mint tea, hot sausage sandwich and thirteen hour sleep well deserved. However the
Freezing
Yeah it is Africa, yeah it is freezing cold poor, torn legs were in agony for a further three days.
In this time we managed to escape Imelil and rest up in Marrakech but get no further. The 2 hour grand taxi ride out of Imelil was enough for us. The two of us squashed against the window of a knackered old Mercedes with three rather large old ladies sat on Alice's lap along with the driver and another passenger inside.
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Jess rat face
non-member comment
Wow
Hey my little muffin,am so amazed at what you are doing and for a year.it looks beautiful and am very jealous.chris-u look like a nice person-i went to uni 4 1 1/2 yrs with alice and she kept me sane during those that time, , well done alice evans i always new you would end up travelling in these lovely places. keep in touch love jess rat face badger (steve aka rocky robin sends his love!)