What day is it? I am sitting here at Kasbah Toukbal, in Steven and Sam’s SUITE (won by a flip of the dirham) with crazy music playing on the wall mounted speakers, everyone at the table playing French Monopoly, I am watching the washing machine, again a French thing with French directions… this is the second run of trying to get it to do something resembling washing a few pairs of socks and shirts which may never ever reach clean again anyways. We have eaten a fantastic dinner of chicken tagine with great bread and olives and a Moroccan soup first (actually they call it “Moroccan Soup”). Ah, I see soapy water in the front loader this is a good sign. It is 930, I am so ready for bed.
Today we were awoken in camp with cups of hot mint tea, then we packed up for the trek (interesting word, we are discovering) of about 3 hours down from our camp site, through the parts that made me weep yesterday they were so scary, then finally onto a lovely two lane level road, sandy and rocky in parts but never the less easy. We walked and walked and walked, the scenery amazing, from rocky mountainsides to oasis like greenery, groves of trees then barren fields, women bent in half carrying 100lb loads of cut grass back home, stepping nimbly over the rocky paths in silky slippers, small children and a few cows in tow. Our road winds in hairpin curves as we descend the mountain, then we begin another upward swing towards the pass where another fantastic lunch should await us. Except we beat the mules there. Though we had a relaxed start to the day I think breaking down camp and loading up the mules to follow us was not an easy task for The Boys as we call them. They are working like crazy. This stopping point at 2 hours is where a tiny bit of a stone shack has a boy selling Fanta (the Coke is sold out) and an overhang with some actual shade, and a bench to sit on to enjoy it.
Today we were awoken in camp with cups of hot mint tea, then we packed up for the trek (interesting word, we are discovering) of about 3 hours down from our camp site, through the parts that made me weep yesterday they were so scary, then finally onto a lovely two lane level road, sandy and rocky in parts but never the less easy. We walked and walked and walked, the scenery amazing, from rocky mountainsides to oasis like greenery, groves of trees then barren fields, women bent in half carrying 100lb loads of cut grass back home, stepping nimbly over the rocky paths in silky slippers, small children and a few cows in tow. Our road winds in hairpin curves as we descend the mountain, then we begin another upward swing towards the pass where another fantastic lunch should await us. Except we beat the mules there. Though we had a relaxed start to the day I think breaking down camp and loading up the mules to follow us was not an easy task for The Boys as we call them. They are working like crazy. This stopping point at 2 hours is where a tiny bit of a stone shack has a boy selling Fanta (the Coke is sold out) and an overhang with some actual shade, and a bench to sit on to enjoy it.
One thing I have begun to appreciate as I go along the dusty roads and paths is the delicious feeling a bit of shade can give you even as you simply pass it, a refreshing cooler breeze if even for a moment. Here at the pass however, there are many Frenchmen on the benches so we sit in the sun for awhile waiting for them to leave, and our mules to arrive. Which they do, after we enjoy a Fanta each (we need the sugar!). The Moroccan lunch gets set out again, this time with lentils added to the salad plate and a delicious melon for dessert. I keep thinking I don’t need to eat but then it gets presented to me….and haven’t I earned it after all??
We rest for awhile then continue on, Mark says we are more than halfway to Toukbal. As we drop over the pass we go through pine forest and it is so different to see the green after all of the barren mountain terrain we have slogged through. Water spills down from the mountains in little rivers which spill across our path – the moistness of it a new kind of refreshing feel. Looking back at where we’ve come from is almost unbelievable, but sure enough after another 90 minutes we pass through a shaded street and enter the town of Imlil which seems full of tourists from Marrakech (Mark says). Again, our mules have not arrived and so we enjoy some people watching for quite awhile while Mark tries to figure out the logistics. We meet a man anxious to sell us goods (as they all are) who says his name is Harry. Like Harry Potter he says.
We can see our hotel - the Kasbah – at the top of the hill, just waiting for us. Unfortunately the resting makes my muscles freeze up and so the walk uphill to the Kasbah – about 20 minutes - is torturous and makes me pretty cranky.
We enter the Kasbah through a gate, then go up some steep steps (REALLY hard after trekking 5 hours to get here!) then down a pathway through the gardens and past low buildings then into the main building. There are a couple of public rooms with low sofas and Moroccan pillows – and another stairway UP to the level where my room is, around the corner and DOWN a few stairs to get to it (we long ago identified our Up muscles and our Down muscles, and both are done for the day) and finally there it is, with a bed and a bathroom and a shower and everything!! As I peel off shoes and socks I find amazing blisters – I’d like to think mine are the biggest but in fact Mira has two raw heels and one big bubble of a blister larger than the toe it sits on. No exaggeration. It’s not clear how we will work this out to enable walking tomorrow but neither of us wants to miss the pilgrimage walk so we’ll have to come up with something..
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