Updated: Jan 15, 2019
Life looks really hard for the local people of Morocco. Driving through the Atlas Mountains, those living on the side of these windy treacherous roads seem to be as weathered as the mountain side it’s self.
We drive through pockets of color, tiny shacks crammed into the side of the road. Tajine pots and colorful fabrics displayed outside to attract the tourists sat on the many minibuses that snake their way up the mountain. A dusting of snow sits on the top, our diver explains its nothing compared to the blanket that covered the landscape last Christmas.
As we climb, my ears start to pop, 2200 meters above sea level; it’s windy up here, and pretty chilly! But the views from the Touska (meaning green grass) berber village are quite incredible.
It feels comparable to being in the labyrinths of the souques being in the windy passages of the mountains, with all the twists and turns you can’t see which direction you’ve come from or where you are heading. I’m glad to be with Mohammad, our tour guide.
There is something monotonousabout the sandy Rocky Mountains giving way to the houses built into the landscape. That dusty pink tone, the
only breaks coming from brightly painted doors and the people, wrapped in colorful fabrics sat on the side of roads watching the world go by.
