The beauty of studying geography means that during my degree I had the privilege of travelling to a couple of unforgettable destinations. In my second year of study, with a group of students, we ventured to the High Atlas Mountains of Morocco. As I was writing my last blog post about the Alps, I began to recollect images and emotions from this trip so, although this has nothing to do with forests, I’d like to share my experience as well as a few interesting facts that might tickle your curiosity. Upon arriving in the vibrant capital of Marrakesh, I found myself enveloped by the hustle and bustle of the streets and the lively chaos of the market in the square of Jemaa el-Fna. As I walked along the narrow roads of the souk, surrounded by the earthly tones of the Moroccan buildings and overwhelmed by the dry heat, I passed by a whirlwind of people selling fragrant food, brightly coloured mounds of spices, leather shoes and bags and skilfully crafted rugs. Fragile tajines and plates made of terracotta, meticulously decorated and glazed, were unsteadily stacked upon one another. Hundreds of lamps adorned with intricately cut out detailing and bejewelled with stained glass dangled precariously above my head and appeared as they were floating in mid-air in the streets of the market. The loud and pulsating essence of Marrakesh was quickly replaced by the solemn silence of the Moroccan High Atlas Mountains as we travelled to our destination - the small village of Imlil, situated in the Toubkal valley at about 1,800 metres above sea level (asl). The little town rose up the foothills on either side of the valley, with towering mountains looming over it in the distance. On the opposite end of the valley, with all its 4,167 meters of glory, stands Jbel Toubkal, the tallest mountain in North Africa. Though I had previously experienced the magnificence of mountains in the Alps, the sight of this individual peak from the window of my room was particularly striking. Covered in snow despite the beating sun, enveloped in a backdrop of the bluest sky, this mountain emanates a certain aura of mysticism and wisdom. It was as if I was staring at an ancient giant who had watched over the world for millennia. There was something calming yet ominous about it. Just staying in the Moroccan mountains was novel and exciting, enjoying the copious amounts of tajine stews, cous cous and plenty of mint tea, but the best part of the trip was experiencing the High Atlas firsthand during our treks. Zigzagging our way from Imlil with my small research group, led by our Berber guide, we made our way up the Toubkal valley. Amidst the enormous mega-boulders and debris from rockfalls, walking up this picturesque valley was quite the profound experience. Our group was tasked with mapping the evidence of ancient glaciers that flowed along the valley during the past 2 million years. Not many glaciers exist in the High Atlas today, and the ones that do exist are relatively small but, during certain cold phases in the past, glaciers up to 10km long were present. Often, we stopped along the way for a cup of mint tea offered by a refreshments house or by a vendor within his own store and, after haggling for a pair of yellow slippers or a hat, we made our way along the dirt path to examine more rocks… geography-nerd alert! Every day we would cover increasingly more of the path, discovering new evidence for our project, until we trekked all the way up the valley to the shrine of Sidi Chamharouch, situated around 2,350 m asl. Beyond it, snow and steep slopes and precarious boulders presented a treacherous way that for safety reasons within the University we couldn’t take. Alas, this is not a story of how I conquered the top of Jbel Toubkal, although I hope I will get to tell that one too someday. The shrine of Sidi Chamharouch stands at the top of a small Berber settlement comprised of houses and shops, and it is an evidently strange and mystical place. Although the mosque is not particularly striking or architecturally complex, with a only small entrance and a short turret, it is unique in the fact that it is built around a gigantic boulder painted in candid white. Yet, this is not the only reason this is such a unique place. It is a shrine for the King of Djinns Chamharouc (also spelled Shamhurish, Shamharush or Shamhorash). He is believed to have crossed paths with the prophet Muhammad and people in Morocco still venerate him as a saint who can be sought if other djinns are giving you trouble or if you need help in life. Recently, I have been introduced into the world of djinn beliefs and lore through the podcast “The Hidden Djinn”, which I highly recommend! As I found out, djinns are not entirely the friendly blue creatures with Robin Williams’s fun voice that we expect from Aladdin, and they have a much older history than I certainly knew. In one of the episodes of “The Hidden Djinn” entitled “With Friends Like These”, narrator Rabia Chaudry explains that the giant white rock of Sidi Chamarouch has been the site of a shrine for thousands of years ago, well before Islamic religion spread in the area and the mosque was erected. The boulder is hollowed inside and is said to be a mausoleum that contain the remains of the great Djinn King, although it is not clear whether he is dead or not… Enriched by the experience at the shrine and ecstatic of having reached the furthermost point of our trek, we headed back with our precious data in hand, ready to enjoy more of the Moroccan surrounding and, late at night, admire the clear starred skies where the milky way was fully visible.
If you ever find yourself in Morocco, don’t miss the chance to visit the High Atlas. It is a magical and mystical place, rich with a long and hidden history, and filled with a multitude of cultures. Don’t be afraid of haggling for a rug and sharing a cup of mint tea with a local. I look forward to travelling back on my own one day, and perhaps trek to the peak of Jbel Toubkal, unrestrained by University health and safety regulations. Stay tuned and stay wanderlust, Dael
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