Hiking Mount Toubkal: Part I

As I get older, the allure of planning my travel adventures around physical challenges and adrenaline-pumping moments, rather than nightlife and party scenes is much more appealing to me.

Completing the Camino De Santiago had given me such a thrill and sense of accomplishment that I wanted to book a trip to recapture those feelings as soon as I possibly could.

During the Christmas period of 2021, I was in Bath, UK, waiting for my family to arrive for a birthday meal we had planned for my younger sister. I was nestled in a warm and peaceful coffee shop as the Christmas shoppers hurried by outside when I finally decided that Mount Toubkal, Morrocco would be my next destination! I had been contemplating what to get my sister for a birthday gift for some time and was playing mental ping-pong with the idea of a trip to Morrocco.

Her partner (my brother-in law) and my roommate both had 30th birthdays around that time, so I thought a group trip to conquer North Africa’s highest mountain would be a great experience for them and another challenge for myself.

Naturally I had my doubts — would they even want to go? Was I capable of such a climb? Did I want to go back to Morocco again? (There were many other countries on my bucket list, and I had spent some time in Morocco not too long before).

Writing this makes me seem like some type of millionaire, but on the contrary, the flights were only around $200 for 4 people, and accommodation in Morrocco is extremely affordable. I probably spent less on the trip than I would have on gifts and local celebrations.

My phone beeped “We are here”. I quickly finished my flat white and ran across the street to buy a birthday card. I politely asked to borrow a pen from an old lady stood next to me and scribbled the trip details, accompanied by a badly drawn mountain, inside the card and headed over to the Christmas markets to meet everyone.

I know technically I hadn’t booked the trip at that time, but after I had handed that card over during dinner, I knew there was no going back. My decision making is often impulsive, so it was no surprise to myself that I had left this so last minute!

Fast forward 5 months and we landed on the runway at the airport in Marrakech!

We had persuaded a close friend of mine, an old teacher friend from Thailand to join us, so we were a group of 5 strong. The company was good, the energy was high — we were excited!

Marrakech, the “Red City” of Morocco, is a vibrant and bustling metropolis that enchants visitors with its ancient medina, towering mosques, lush gardens, and lively souks.

The heart of Marrakech is the Jemaa el-Fnaa, a UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of the busiest squares in Africa. Here, snake charmers, acrobats, musicians, and food vendors crowd together in a riot of color and sound.

Beyond the Jemaa el-Fnaa, the narrow alleyways of the medina are a labyrinth of shops, stalls, and workshops selling everything from spices and carpets to leather goods and traditional clothing.

Marrakech is also home to some stunning historical landmarks, including the Koutoubia Mosque, the Bahia Palace, and the Saadian Tombs. These architectural marvels offer a glimpse into the city’s rich and storied past.

If I’m going to be completely honest, Marrakech is not one of my favourite cities in the world, but I did enjoy returning, showing my friends and family the area I knew, as well as discovering new things.

I also think the noise and mayhem from Marrakech was a welcome distraction from what we were about to do.

After 2 days of sweltering heat, chaos and the overall bedlam of Marrakech, the drive into the Atlas Mountains was a delight.

Anticipation, which had grown throughout the trip, was starting to reach new heights as we drove from the city and towards the Atlas Mountains.

The closer we got, the more visible the white peaks in the distance became. Snow, which was something we weren’t sure whether we’d have to deal with or not, added another level of excitement for the climb, but admittedly, I couldn’t escape the feeling that we were underprepared. I was drinking that sweet cocktail of nerves and excitement once again.

The Atlas Mountains extend a total of 2,500Km across northwest Africa, so it was difficult to identify Toubkal from the crowd. Every time I convinced myself I saw it, another peak, even higher, revealed itself.

Most of the journey was spent in silence. The car was filled with awe and wonder.

After some time, we left the main road and headed through the lush green valleys at the foot of the mountain range. The temperature dropped significantly. For about another hour or so, we meandered on hilly mountainous roads through villages and areas of nature at it’s best!

Eventually, we arrived at the small, mountain village, Imlil, known as the gateway to the summit of Jebel Toubkal.