Meanderings in the Anti Atlas Mountains

Our journey, as many journeys have a tendancy to do, has taken on a rather meandering path. Upon reaching the Anti Atlas my bike has taken on an interesting sort of wobble leading to a tendency for it to wander rather than continue on in a straight line. As the landscape around us began to roll and fold and eventually nestle itself into the hazy clouded sky, I felt an immense relief, a lightening of the heart and mind. Still so far from home I knew I was once again in my place and somehow more myself. The connections we have and form with various lanscapes are both mysterious and highly subjective, but for those who crave the elements of a place never interchangable.

The other day, K and I were stopped by the side of the road to check in with each other, have a drink and contemplate the rolling foothills that surrounded us. As we rested, one car passed, reversed back and the driver ran out to give us each some apples and wish us well. On an earlier day, a passing couple handed me an unopened bottle of mineral water as I pushed my bike up out of a gorge. We have been the grateful recipients of so many random acts of kindness during this journey. I am constantly amazed and warmed by the generousity and support that people have offered us. This has been a constant throughout the trip. Lately, in the mountains now, I've taken great joy from the thumbs-ups and cheerful salutes we get from on-coming vehicles - though in general I've found the more enthusiasm shown by the driver, the longer and steeper the climb ahead.

'Hmmm... time to ask for directions?'
Navigating the gorges south of Tafroute

The south-bound cyclists that we met in Ouagadougou at the beginning of our journey had encouraged us to spend more time than we had initially intended in Morocco. We are thankful for their wise advice as we are finding Morocco to be a beautiful and fascinating country. And the food is devine and plentiful - a cyclist's dream.

Gone are the days when tomato paste constistuted our daily supply of fruit and
vegetables.

The dinner has been eaten, the latern extinguished and the wind is raising delightful goosebumps on my arms. We have ridden down an extraordinary gorge today, silently gliding up behind old women carrying baskets of sage and almonds to their villages scattered in the hills. And now I can't wish for anything more for the number of shooting stars. The milky way is so vivid and the dipper is scooping the mountain tops into the night sky.