11 Feb 2019: The Atlas Mountains

“But who are ye in rags and rotten shoes,

You dirty-bearded, blocking up the way?”

“We are the Pilgrims, master; we shall go

Always a little further: it may be

Beyond the last blue mountain barred with snow,

Across that angry or that glimmering sea…”

The Golden Journey to Samarkand by James Elroy Flecker

Atlas Mts, Morocco

I felt like this pilgrim, dirty-bearded, blocking up the way, as the small Fiat struggled up the narrow mountain passes of the Atlas Mountains. Mohammed, the guide, time and again nearly strangled himself on his safety belt as suicidal drivers came hurling downhill and I swerved in the direction of the bottomless abysses. His refrain of “Keep your line! Keep your line!” later turned into a prayer, and then into total and utter silence. I could not understand all the Berber, but I did pick up a few ish-Allah’s along the way. We did, however, manage to do some birding and an Alpine Chough, Barbary Partridge, Long-legged Buzzard and Tristram's Warbler made it on to the list.

Gite Ogog. Tacheddirt, Morocco.

The evening was spent beyond the last blue mountain barred with snow at a mountain inn, Gite Ogog, in the small mountain village of Tacheddirt. Here I was introduced to Moroccan cooking, said to be amongst the most delicious food in the world. The food is spicy, but rarely very hot, and comprises such dishes as couscous, kebabs, soups, tajines and pastries. After a very substantial tajine (delicious stew made in a clay pot over an open fire) it was off to bed. Just another special day in Africa!