Morocco Travel: Mount Toubkal Trek

Why we were unable to summit North Africa’s tallest mountain.

One of the main reasons I chose to travel to Morocco was to climb Mount Toubkal. Rising up over the rest of the High Atlas Mountains in central Morocco, it seemed like the perfect reason to make my way to this new continent.

After living on Vancouver Island for a year, and doing my fair share of backpacking and mountain climbing around Canada’s west coast, I came to Morocco feeling confident about my hiking abilities. But as I’ve now learned, the ascent up Mount Toubkal is not to be taken too lightly — the mountains must always be treated with caution and respect.

Before the Trek

We started our adventure in Marrakech, the closest major city to the mountain range. My boyfriend, R, and I stayed at a lively hostel in the medina and were trying to figure out the cheapest and most efficient way to get to Imlil, the town in which the trek starts.

We asked the owner of the hostel, who told us that our best bet is to take a Grand Taxi. In Morocco, taxis are effectively a form of public transportation, given how affordable and accessible they are. Grand Taxis are split between a number of people going in the same direction, and often cost no more than 30–40 dirham ($3–4 USD) per person for a few hour drive. If you don’t want to wait for all the seats to fill up, you can also pay the cost of an extra person instead.

While having breakfast at the hostel, we learned that another traveller, J, was also heading to Imlil for the trek. We decided to travel together — between the three of us, we would have half of a Grand Taxi filled up already!

The 2-hour drive from Marrakech to Imlil was quite entertaining, thanks to a crabby taxi driver speeding aggressively through winding mountain roads, and a wonderful Moroccan couple who we chatted with the entire way — and who were able to translate the driver’s grumpy remarks to us.

We hadn’t yet decided on a place to stay in Imlil, and the couple recommended that we stay in the same Riad (hotel) that they were staying at, swearing that it has the absolute best views of Imlil. We agreed and made our way to the Riad Atlas Panorama with them. The view was, as promised, unlike any hotel we had ever stayed at.

The Riad staff also connected us with our guide, Abdul, who would take us up to Mount Toubkal the following day. We learned that it is now mandatory for hikers to take a guide up the mountain after a tragic terrorist attack occurred on the foothills of the mountain in 2018.

Abdul excitedly showed us around Imlil, took us to a restaurant to have a vegetable tagine, and made sure we had all of the equipment we needed to start the trek the following day.

We all then spent the evening laughing, sharing stories, and drinking Moroccan tea with fruits and nuts. I was enthralled by the way the trip was starting out, and feeling so at home in a place so different than anywhere else I had ever been.

The Trek: Day 1

R, J, and I met Abdul at our Riad first thing in the morning before the climb. We fueled up with a traditional breakfast spread of fresh bread, jam, almond butter, and argan oil, washed down with Moroccan tea to warm us up.

The views as we headed outside were perfect — the way the mountains framed the town, and the High Atlas range towered in the distance. The weather was ideal, and we started shedding our clothing layers as we made our ascent.

About an hour into the hike, we came across a quaint little booth with hundreds of oranges, and a kind-looking man waiting for us. We couldn’t pass up the opportunity to hydrate with a stunning view and sat down for some freshly-squeezed juice.

After another hour or so of climbing, we arrived at a cluster of restaurants that staggered on the mountain. I couldn’t help but laugh at how many opportunities there were to buy food along the way. I guess they know we tourists work up quite the appetite while hiking! I sure wasn’t complaining about having decent food options though (even vegan ones that I could enjoy).

After 4 hours of the steep, scenic trail, we arrived at the “Refuge du Toubkal”, perched at an altitude of 3207m. Our room was absolutely packed with other hikers, and the staff had to squeeze two extra mattresses down on the floor for us to sleep on. There was such an air of adventure around the refuge, with travellers all gathering for tea and chatting excitedly about their experiences in the common room.

We spent the rest of the evening playing cards with Abdul, having dinner, and trying to force ourselves to bed at around 8 pm — we had a 3 am wakeup call the next morning, and we did not want to miss the sunrise at the summit!

The Trek: Day 2

Abdul had told us that if anyone insists that they had a good sleep at the refuge, they were lying. I can attest to this — between being packed into rooms like sardines, the noise of people going in and out throughout the night, and the excitement of the upcoming summit trek, it’s virtually impossible to feel well-rested. But when my alarm clock rang at 3 am, the spike of adrenaline was all I needed to shoot out of bed.

We were told it was going to be a cold morning, so we put on all of our warm layers and made our way down to breakfast. It was at this moment that a sudden wave of nausea hit me. Uh oh. Altitude sickness was not something I had ever experienced before, but the feeling was unmistakable.

Maybe it was reckless, but I decided to tough it out. I hadn’t come all the way to the highest mountain in North Africa just to turn around now. I couldn’t stomach much of breakfast, but put on a brave face and started to make my way up the mountain with R, J and Abdul.

I consider myself to be a strong hiker, and our small group powered through the first hour of steep ascent with relative ease. But the higher we went, the more the altitude sickness slowed me down. The snow was beginning to fall quite hard, the wind was picking up, and I was moving at a snail’s pace. I knew that if I moved any faster, I would almost certainly vomit.

I had to take frequent breaks to put my head between my knees, and Abdul was feeding me dates and making sure I stayed hydrated. R hovered nervously over me, unsure of how to help. Everyone knew how badly I wanted to continue up the mountain, and I was so thankful that they didn’t push me to go any faster than the laughable pace I was able to move at. Taking deep breaths, I put one foot in front of the other and tried to ignore ever-growing nausea and light-headedness.

About 3 hours into the climb, with not long left until the summit, the wind began to grow more intense, and hail began to pummel down on us. The guides would have frantic exchanges every time they passed each other, and we began to notice people turning back, unable to reach the summit. Abdul broke it to us that we would likely not be able to reach the final summit either.

After another hour filled with many breaks, we reached Mount Toubkal’s “fake summit”, at a bit over 4,000m in elevation. At that point, the wind had picked up to over 50km/hour, and whenever a gust came at us we had to crouch behind rocks to stay on our feet. The hail was still coming down, and we were starting to slide on the icy trail. Abdul told us that continuing further would be too dangerous.

We decided to stop and celebrate the secondary summit we had reached. J brought hot chocolate in his thermos, and we all drank it and cheered, giddy with excitement over the adventure we had been on. Whenever the wind stopped for long enough to look out into the distance, we admired the vast white clouds of hail, imagining the mountainous horizon they were covering. What a sunrise, ha!

Abdul told us that this was the first time in his 6 years of trekking up the mountain that he was not able to reach the summit due to weather. It sounds disappointing, but funny enough it was kind of an honour to have climbed on a record-breaking day. Would I have wanted to see a magnificent sunrise over all of Morocco? Yes, definitely. But Mount Toubkal had other plans for us, which we gladly celebrated with the team while trying not to let hail into our eyeballs.

On the way back down, the trail had become a slick sheet of ice, and Abdul was kind enough to let me clutch his arm for dear life while the R and J slipped and slid down behind me, laughing. As we descended, the hail turned to rain, and by the time we got back to Imlil hours later, we were absolutely soaked to the bone. Not even the heavy-duty snow pants that Abdul lent me were able to keep the cold rain from infiltrating every layer.

We ran frantically all the way back to our Riad, thinking of how amazing it will feel to warm up with lunch.

After the Trek

Cold, wet, and tired, we ran into our room and wrung out an entire ocean from our clothes and shoes. I then took the best long, hot shower of my life.

Abdul invited us over to his home, where his mother made us the biggest heap of vegetarian couscous that we had ever seen! We were so grateful for their hospitality and scarfed it down while Abdul flipped through American TV channels to try to entertain us. He finally settled on WWE, and we couldn’t stop laughing at the ridiculousness of eating couscous in this small, picturesque Moroccan room with the dramatic wrestling match playing in the background.

Abdul showed us around his home, proudly displaying his and his siblings’ many trophies from various sporting activities throughout the years. He told us that he is the best soccer player in all of Imlil and that his younger brother ran to the summit of Mount Toubkal in (unofficial) record-breaking time. Quite the impressive family!

If there’s one lesson we learned from our experience, it’s that Mount Toubkal is no joke, no matter how strong of a hiker you think you are. Between the altitude sickness, the ice, and the wind, you have to listen to the mountain when it tells you to turn back.

And of course, no matter the weather, you will have fun!