An air conditioned taxi chaperoned us from the frantic bustle and hustle of the old city in Marrakech to the Atlas Mountains. As we climbed slowly we passed carpet stalls and camels……..aren’t they usually found in deserts? Well of course they are…….the taxi driver told us they were purely there for tourists, I gave him a conspiratorial humph in derisory agreement and nodded at him in the driver’s mirror ….after all I was a traveller.
We eventually stopped at Ourika a village where water cascaded down the mountainside parallel to the main village road. Where cafes placed chairs and tables in the river and customers could wade ankle deep to take a coffee or beer. We were passed over to a young guide who promised to show us a waterfall.
We followed our guide across a bridge made of slats of wood which swung over the rushing river. Well a lady with a large load and goat had managed it so who was I to whimper? We started to climb a narrow path and it was at this point my flip flops seemed out of place… I hadn’t expected a climb, soon rather like the afore mentioned goat I was scrambling over rocks but we did eventually see our waterfall. Coming back down to the village seemed much quicker!
For about Marrakech click on