The plaintive wails of the day’s first call to prayer sound far above us, up where the villages perched on the valley rim are already greeting the dawn. The muezzin stretches the vowels of the first chant – “Allaa-aaaa-aaa-h-huuuuuu Akbar” – across 10 haunting seconds. A voice from a tower in a closer village joins in, his song deeper, more mournful. Then another voice closer still, and soon all the mosques in the long valley hum to life. One verse layers over another, a round of prayers that echoes up and down the canyon, weaving around us in the dark. After a few minutes, we hear our guides stir next door, drawn out of bed and into the cold by the dutiful last commands of the call – “As-salatu Khayrun Minan-nawm” (“It is better to pray than to sleep”). We watch them touch their foreheads to their mats for a final time, then join them under a purple sky that’s just beginning to reveal the great snow ridges to the south.
While Hassan the cook prepares a breakfast of crepes and jams and fresh-off-the-trees tangerines, Hassan the guide (they just happen to have the same name) saddles up the colourfully tasselled donkey. We eat, then head out onto the trail with frost still clawing the air. It will be a magnificent morning, full of long, winding climbs up to ridgelines on trails that have been walked for thousands of years, with views of snow far above us and desert far below. We will pass through cedars and juniper as winds whip off the high peaks, and every few hours we’ll descend to medieval villages surrounded by walnut and olive groves before heading back up to trails linking summer goat pastures.
Though I’ve spent a lifetime climbing and exploring mountains around the world, Morocco’s peaks had somehow stayed off my radar. They shouldn’t have: This country is an adventurer’s dream. Its summits – just a few hours drive from spectacular beaches on the Atlantic coast – rival the Rockies in height and beauty. You can kayak and mountain bike through red rock canyons on par with the American Southwest. If it’s deserts you want, the edge of the boundless Sahara is just a day’s drive from the exotic urban madness of Marrakech. This is a land of eternal beauty, I learned on a three-day, three-valley tour – but a striking transformation is under way.
The Hassans’ people, the Berbers, have used the trails we followed over the shoulders of Jebel Toubkal – 4,167 metres high and the highest peak in North Africa – for more than 10,000 years. They gained a reputation as excellent guides, helping caravans navigate the North African trade route, moving salt east and gold west. Still, those millenniums of travellers made little difference to their rough lives. The Berbers made what they could of the bitter desert hills, irrigating pockets of fruit and nut trees that gave them something to trade, but they remained a subsistence culture, isolated in mud villages.
Mid-morning on our second day, deep down in the throat of a valley, our guide stopped us in the middle of a terraced alley of walnut trees to illustrate just how much, and how quickly, things have changed. He pointed to white numbers painted on trees. Those numbered “17,” he explained, had belonged to his family for generations. Only a decade ago, a few goats and an unreliable walnut crop from those trees – located far from the village – would have been the only source of income to feed his family. Now Hassan guides tourists, gets other men to watch his goats, and has a cellphone that lets him tell his children what to pick up at the weekend market one minute and talk to clients in Germany the next.
I’ve never seen mountains as well covered by cell and satellite service as the Atlas – one of the lasting effects of a 2003 trip by King Mohammed VI of Morocco to Imlil, the region’s tourist hub. He fell in love with the area, and committed millions of dollars to infrastructure upgrades: roads, water systems, schools and electricity. These new comforts brought the fast-growing Moroccan middle class to the Atlas – along with European travellers lured by £35 ($62) round-trip airfares on discount carriers – and gave shepherds such as the Hassans a chance find jobs as guides and continue their ancestors’ legacy.
Overhearing phone calls while weaving our way through centuries-old mud and straw villages was jarring, but it was impossible to begrudge how the changes have improved the Berbers’ lives – and made our own travel so much easier.
In the end, nothing could take away from the region’s natural drama. Our short journey was a perfect introduction to the heart of the Atlas, a grand circle of passes up to 2,700 metres, with villages that wouldn’t look out of place in Tibet. Every day the scenery changed from snow and rock to sand and palms – the greatest range of ecosystems I’ve ever seen in such a short time. At the foot of Jebel Toubkal we revelled in beautiful waterfalls, lush valley bottoms and rocky ridges. Though the trek is one of the country’s most popular, we walked for hours without passing other Westerners, just a handful of shepherds tending their flocks.
While the December days started out cold, we were glad for the chill; the long climbs can be miserable in summer heat. We would start in down jackets and were in T-shirts by lunch, sprawled out on lush valley bottoms, soaking up the sun. The distances travelled weren’t far: Each day we moved only 15 or so kilometres on the map – but we gained and lost as much as 3,000 metres of elevation.
Our reward came nightly, when we’d stop to bunk with Berbers who have opened up their homes as trekking huts. Ten thousand years of visitors have taught these people how to host. We would laugh with them, listen to their exotic stories, share their mint tea and apricots. Every night we’d be fed like kings, falling asleep under piles of blankets, until the prayers called us into the next day.
IF YOU GO
Royal Air Maroc flies direct to Casablanca from Montreal. Or, once in Europe, Ryan Air and EasyJet offer cheap fares to Marrakech, where you’ll want to start your Atlas exploration.
Getting from Marrakech to Imlil is easily done via regularly scheduled buses, and taxis will be happy to get the $80 fare. Otherwise, your trekking company can arrange private transport.
You could trek the Atlas on your own, but not many of the hill people speak English, and finding accommodation and food in the mountains may not be simple. Going through a trekking agency might cost a bit more, but doors will open for you and you’ll understand a lot more of what you’re seeing.
We used TrekAtlas (trekatlas.com), a company run by an Imlil local, Ahmed Zin. We received door-to-door service that ran like clockwork, and had seamless add-ons of trips to the Sahara and the ocean. An all-inclusive 10-day package cost $750 a person.
Where to stay
Organized trekking lodges called gîtes are starting to show up, but most of your accommodation will be in local’s houses during treks.
In Marrakech, your most interesting and least expensive bet is to stay in a riad right in the heart of the old city medina. These are boutique hotels that used to be large private residences, and can be hundreds of years old. Our riad, Jardins de Mouassine was a haven of quiet even though it was buried in the craziness of the souks. Basic rooms from €60 ($85) a night. lesjardinsdemouassine.com
[Editor's note: A previous version of this article stated there were no direct flights to Morocco from Canada. In fact there are direct flights between Montreal and Casablanca.]