If the pacific is a pearl then, Morocco is a jewel. The
mountains of the Anti Atlas lie deep within the country, like majestic castle
ruins appointed to dominate the Western Sahara. The days are short, hot and
dusty and nights are as opposite as it is possible, being cold, crisp and
clear.
Having spent some months recuperating from my little fracas with my anatomy and being told first that I
would not be able to join Macmillan in the spring on Mt Kenya due to the
altitude and then later, that they were now not putting the trek on after all. Although disappointed, I was somewhat
relieved. Wondering how to direct my
energies next, thoughts lead around to the concept of an Africa that was
perhaps a little nearer and somewhat lower. Morocco found its way into my dreams and I
thought of a new way of continuing both with my enthusiasm for trekking and my
desire to extend my fund raising for Macmillan.
