Wednesday, March 21, 2018

Sometimes You Kick The Mule, Sometimes The Mule Steps On Your Big Toe

As we entered the Atlas Mountains, the road started rising rapidly and twisting and turning every which way.  The river caused the entire valley to be quite green as we rose above it.  The snow was not yet in full melt, so the water was still within the main bank of the river, but it was rushing fast and hard.  And, from the currently dry banks of the river, it is easy to see how much more widely the water covers during the main melt in April and May.

We stopped in the Berber village of Imlil, which is a major tourism center.  Hikers congregate here to do the two day hike of the highest mountain in Morocco.  While hiking it would be tempting, our schedule affords us only the option to take pictures!

We were up around 3,000 feet, with snow-covered mountains up to 10,000 feet taller surrounding us.  As we stopped, Rasheed says we now transfer to the SUVs. 

Instead of four wheel drive, however, these Moroccan SUVs had four leg drive.  They were mules.  I haven't done a mule ride since Santorini in 2009, and that was easy compared to this lengthy journey.

This may come as a shock, but I am NOT a huge fan of riding four legged creatures.  Horses are my favorite (I think I've been on maybe three horseback rides all together), while camels come in last (Australia, 1989).  Mules now rank in-between.  It was fine, but my feet did not fit in the stirrups, so I felt like I was swinging to and fro, primarily because I was.  

Carol, who was more dubious about this than I was, turned out to have no problems.  She looked like a pro mule rider, in fact.  I was mostly amateur hour.

After climbing maybe 600 feet or so, to about the same elevation as our place at Wintergreen (3600 feet), we took a short hike along the irrigation channels, crossing the furiously rushing stream, and climbing up to see a beautiful waterfall spilling down the mountain.  This hike was much more in MY element.

Imlil is a village scattered about the mountain.  The main part is on the main road, but there are houses that are one thousand feet higher up.  It is quite the vacation spot for foreigners and Moroccans alike.

Carol had a problem with her knee, so she limped throughout the hike.  But, she did enjoy the waterfall views.

After the short hike, we headed back to the mule drop-off point, to a stunningly-situated guest house and restaurant.  The tables are all situated on the rooftop, with stunning views of the snow-capped Atlas Mountains (Readers: okay, we get it -- there is snow on the mountains!  Writer: But, it's Africa!).

We enjoyed a multi-course meal of salad, lamb tagine, and then chicken with vegetables and cous cous tagine.  Dessert was a plate of fresh fruit.  It was all delicious. Even the air temperature (ie not cold) water tasted good.  (Regular readers know I prefer cold water, but this being Morocco, I will live with room temperature water.  The sacrifices I make!).

As we sat there, enjoying our lunch in the cool mountain air, I quipped to Carol -- "Okay, this is so amazing here, we DO have to go to Afghanistan!"  To her endless credit, she just laughed.

After strolling around a little (Carol's knee felt better), we hopped back on the mules to go down.  Going down is actually harder than going up, as it was, you know, pointed down, and so was I.  My face must have been pale (meanwhile, Carol was rocking it!), because my mule "driver" (he led by a rope) kept looking at me nervously, and at some steep points held my wrist.  

Carol sat up straight and didn't sway much.  Meanwhile, I was swaying like a top.  At one point my guide said something to Rasheed (on the mule behind me), and Rasheed asked if I was okay.  I guess my guide wasn't buying the smile I had plastered on my face.  It was fine, but honestly, I don't have to do it again.

At the bottom, I finally slid off the mule onto the ground, as four or five Berbers tried to give me advice by gesturing in gestures that I didn't understand, nor care.  

I landed safely on my two feet, only to have the mule step on my big toe.  It throbbed the whole way back.

Don't get me wrong, the mule ride was fun, and definitely worth it to go up to the restaurant and waterfall.  The views were spectacular.  On the other hand, I'm pretty certain that was my last mule ride of my life.

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