Morocco: Day 4 - back to Marrakech

> Morocco Day 1: Marrakech
> Morocco Day 2: Imlil to Toubkal basecamp
> Morocco Day 3: Mount Toubkal

After the whirlwind 48hrs of climbing and descending Mount Toubkal, the 4,167m highest peak in north Africa, I was dropped back in Marrakech by our tour guide.

I headed back to Riad Secret de Zoraida, where I'd left my main bag on the Friday before journeying to Imlil.

I was greeted like a long-lost friend by Abdul (speciality sweet tea in hand).

I had a whole day and evening in Marrakech before my flight home the next day, and because I'd already done a fair bit of walking on day one, I decided to take it easy.

I washed some of my sweaty hiking gear in an alfresco shower on the rooftop, before taking a slow walk into the Medina to get some lunch.

I found a rooftop bar with great views over the city and ordered falafel and a juice.

The rest of the afternoon was spent mooching around the souk, and I also paid a visit to the royal palace and its atmospheric internal courtyard gardens.

By this stage I was flagging, so headed back to the riad for - yes - more sweet tea, and a lie-down on the rooftop sun loungers.

In the evening I took a walk back into the Medina, through the chaotic backstreet lanes where motorbikes zip past you at lightening speed, and to the main Jemaa el-Fnaa square.

I did a bit of market browsing, people-watching and snake-charmer avoiding, before finding a great little restaurant where I had a couple of lovely vegetarian dishes.

After a good night's sleep, I had a final Moroccan breakfast at the riad before jumping in a cab to the airport.

It was a great four-day getaway. 

Two days in Marrakech, with its unique sights, smells and sounds. 

Two days in the mountains, where once again I remembered how much I love adventure and challenging myself.

Everest next...?

Morocco: Day 3 - Mount Toubkal

> Morocco: Day 1 - Marrakech
> Morocco: Day 2 - Imlil to Toubkal basecamp

After a couple of hours sleep on night 1, and even less on night 2, I was running on empty. 

I scoffed some breakfast - can't remember what - and quickly got changed.

The others in my group, all seemingly well-rested, had got up before me and were ready to go.

I asked someone to take a final pic of me, crampons, poles and all.

And off we set.

Immediately above basecamp was a fairly treacherous stretch of ice and rock climbing. 

It was pitch black, so it was simply a case of keeping an eye on the person in front, watching and double-checking every single step, and taking it slowly.

A couple of people in our group were struggling, and unfortunately one of them had to turn back after an hour or so.

After that initial stretch of hazardous ice and rock, things started to get slightly easier. 

(Though it's all relative when you're inching your way up a steep mountain in crampons and not getting enough air into your lungs.)

The guides had said to us the previous day that it was unusual to still have such a blanket of snow and ice on Toubkal this late in the season (May).

There was a breathtaking bit (literal and metaphorical) after about three hours' climbing, when we made our way to the top of a valley and could look down at other hikers following our path.

Their head torches twinkled in the dawn light and the snow-capped mountains framed the view. It  was a memorable sight.

A couple of hours later, and I was starting to struggle with the altitude.

My head was pounding, and no amount of water, food or paracetamol was making it shift.

Some of our group (yep, those Poles) were almost skipping towards the summit. I was slowly plodding forward, just trying to put one foot in front of the other and willing my head to stop throbbing.

At one stage, a few hundred metres from the summit, we had to traverse a particularly dicey section.

It involved skirting our way along a narrow icy path, a sheer drop on one side and large boulders on the other, which we gripped onto for safety. 

We weren't attached to the rock face with any ropes, so one small slip and that would've been that.

No pics of that path I'm afraid (too busy hanging on to rocks), but here are one or two from similar locations on the mountain:

Towards the summit the terrain flattened out slightly and I slowly walked towards the small group of people on top.

I'd love to say reaching the peak was a joyful moment.

However, with a head full of altitude-induced ache, I was slightly preoccupied with descending to a level where normality would kick in again.

I'm proud to have climbed it though; a peak more than three times the height of Ben Nevis and not far off the height of Mont Blanc. 

We spent 20 minutes or so at the top, got some photos, and then started our hike back down.

A couple of our group had taken slightly longer to climb up, so we passed them near the top and wished them well for their descent.

The hike down to basecamp was fairly uneventful. My knees took the strain of several thousand downhill steps, willing me to stop and walk on something flat.

By late morning we were back at Les Mouflons to decompress, eat and chill for an hour.

I felt a good sense of achievement. With the icy conditions and the altitude, it was tougher than I'd expected. 

Once everyone had regrouped, we started the long walk back to Imlil, retracing our steps on the rocky, dusty paths.

By late afternoon everyone was fairly shattered. Basecamp > summit > basecamp > Imlil in one day. About 15-16 hours of walking.

Our guide took us to a different guesthouse than we'd stayed in on the Friday, which had a great view across the mountains.

We had a tagine dinner before I collapsed into bed (I mercifully got my own room, which I was so grateful for).

In the morning, we were driven back to Marrakech, where we said our goodbyes.

But I wasn't leaving Morocco just yet. I had one final day to get lost in the Marrakech Medina.

Morocco: Day 2 - Imlil to Toubkal basecamp

(Read Morocco: Day 1 here)

Despite a chronic lack of sleep and a 10-hour hike ahead of me, it felt bloody great to be out of London, away from the daily grind and at the foot of the Atlas mountains.

Imlil is a small village that Toubkal trekkers use to start acclimatising to higher altitudes. The final pre-hike rest stop before starting the path to the base camp of north Africa's highest peak.

The sun was shining, we could see the top of Toubkal in the distance, and we even had a couple of donkeys to wave us on our way. 

Bring it on.

The first couple of hours outside Toubkal were straightforward. Meandering paths through the valley, crossing the odd stream and scaling shallow hills.

The Atlas mountains are known for being challenging to hike through, but not too challenging. A good starting point for relative novices like me. 

That first morning was a gentle introduction to what was coming next.

It was good to get to know the other people in our group as the hours passed.

Whether it was David, king of the Scottish Munro summits, or Gill the marathon runner, I always get inspired by hearing about other people's achievements, ambitions and challenges.

After a couple of hours we officially entered the Toubkal National Park, which was where the incline started to get steeper, and the terrain became less green and more grey.

I hadn't done any specific training for the hike - just my usual running a couple of times a week - so wasn't sure how tough the day's walking would be. Especially in brand new walking boots.

Our group seemed to have a good range of fitness, from the two Poles striding out in front (lads, it's not a race...) to others content being at the back and working at their own pace. 

I guess I was somewhere in the middle. 

Towards the end of the day, after a couple of re-fuelling stops and a cooked lunch from our guides, my legs were starting to feel the strain. But it was manageable.

At late morning we came across a stall selling freshly-squeezed orange juice. Wow, it tasted good.

A couple of hours later our guides took us to a small open-roofed building where they rustled up some energy-giving lunch, before I took a quick sit-down to recharge.

The sun was shining, the trekking was just the right amount of challenge - for my lungs and legs - and I was in good company. 

It's easy to see why people get the trekking/mountaineering bug.

Probably my favourite stretch of the day's walk from Imlil to basecamp was the final valley heading towards the camp. 

Huge mountain walls towered over us on each side, the occasional local resident - normally with donkey in tow - skipped past us, and the views were fantastic.

Finally, some 10 hours after setting off from Imlil, we could see our home for the night in the distance.

There were a couple of buildings at the camp, and we were in Les Mouflons. 

It was pretty basic - cold showers, top-to-toe in a 6-person giant bunk bed, minimal electricity.

Not sure I'll be leaving a glowing Tripadvisor review, but nothing like a bit of roughing it to keep you grounded.

We showered, ate and spoke to other hikers who were readying for summit the next day. I even managed a quick phonecall with Kate and the kids at home.

At 10pm I took myself to bed. 

*****

At midnight I still hadn't slept a wink, partly because the foot of the bloke next to me kept jabbing my shoulder and face.

At 1am I'd had enough and went downstairs to the pitch-black communal dining area, lay on a bench and tried to sleep.

Somewhere between 2-3am I finally drifted off. 

At 3.30am my phone alarm buzzed. 

RISE AND SHINE CAMPERS! 

It was time to reach the summit of north Africa's highest mountain...

Next: Morocco Day 3 - Mount Toubkal