Morocco
Heat, Markets, and the Long Climb Up Mount Toubkal
My time in Morocco was part of a larger journey with Moondance Adventures, a trip that combined Spain and Morocco into one experience. It was a brilliant pairing—two weeks, two continents, and two countries with completely different histories, cultures, and religious foundations.
Spain and Morocco couldn’t be more different. One largely Catholic, the other Muslim-majority. One in Europe, the other in Africa. And that contrast was exactly what made the transition so powerful.
Arriving in Morocco
Flying into Morocco with the students felt different from the beginning. By this point in the trip, everyone already knew each other. Spain had bonded us. Morocco felt like a reset—like the trip was starting over, but with higher stakes.
We knew what was coming.
All the intense hikes in Spain hadn’t just been for fun. They were preparation. They were scouting missions. As leaders, we were quietly evaluating who was ready for the real challenge of the trip: Mount Toubkal, the tallest mountain in Morocco and all of North Africa.
Our first impression stepping out of the airport in Marrakesh was simple—it is hot. Relentlessly hot.
We found our outfitter, loaded into the bus, and headed to the place famously known among Moondance trips as Muhammad’s house.
Muhammad’s House
Muhammad’s house was our base in Marrakesh. The first day was intentionally slow. Pool time. Sun. Laughter. A chance to settle into the country and into each other’s energy again.
The second day, we woke up early to beat the heat and headed into the Marrakesh markets.
The Markets of Marrakesh
The markets were massive—overwhelming in the best way. Endless alleys filled with color, sound, movement, and life. We explored them with a local guide who didn’t just walk us through the space, but explained it.
He taught us how to haggle. How to stand your ground. How to be confident without being disrespectful. It was a chance to show students that they were capable—strong, aware, and able to navigate unfamiliar environments.
We learned why mosques in Morocco are built square rather than with spires. We talked about the call to prayer, which echoed constantly in the distance. We watched motorcycles weave through crowds, vendors try to sell fake watches for absurd prices, and musicians play flutes to cobras for tips.
It was chaotic. It was beautiful. You had to stay alert the entire time.
That afternoon, while relaxing by the pool, a close friend from the Moondance office, Suzanne, came to visit—and ended up joining us for the rest of the trip, including Mount Toubkal.
Heading to the Mountains
The next morning, we drove to the town of Imlil, where our hike would begin. Mount Toubkal is not an easy mountain—not because the trail itself is technical, but because conditions are unpredictable.
The weather was the hardest part.
The climb is split into two days:
Day one: roughly 5,000 feet of elevation gain over six miles
Day two: about 3,000 feet of elevation gain over three miles, summit and return
We spent the night halfway up at a mountain refuge in the Atlas Mountains. The refuge wasn’t luxurious by any means, but it didn’t need to be. It was functional. It was real.
The Climb
Hiking from Imlil was surreal. Along the trail, we passed young kids herding donkeys and mules up the mountain, carrying supplies to sell at base camp. I always challenged my students to think about that contrast—to recognize the privilege of choosing hardship versus living it every day.
The donkeys. The dust. The endless switchbacks. And finally, miles in, seeing the refuge in the distance—only to realize it was still painfully far away.
The mountains looked like something straight out of a movie—what I always imagined Mount Sinai looked like in biblical stories. Stark. Dramatic. Ancient.
What none of us were prepared for during our first session was the weather. Rain. Snow. Sleet. Extreme cold. Conditions shifted fast, and it tested everyone.
Still, the students pushed through. Little complaining. Strong mental toughness. I couldn’t have been more proud.
Sprinting After a Mule
During the second session, one student was sick and had to ride a mule up the mountain. That meant I had to sprint after him—keeping pace with the mule—trying to reach base camp as fast as possible.
At one point, I had to stop talking entirely. I was exhausted. Head down. One step at a time. Just keep moving.
That moment stayed with me.
After the Summit
After summiting and descending, we stayed in large shared dorm rooms—crowded, loud, and full of laughter. Those nights felt special, knowing the trip was slowly coming to an end.
Once we reached the bottom, we stayed at a beautiful hotel—ornate, Arab-styled, calm. Big rooms. Space to breathe. A moment to reflect before heading back to Spain.
One Last Thing About Morocco: The Heat
There’s one thing about Morocco I can’t leave out—the heat in Marrakesh.
It was unreal.
The house was made of clay, with almost no insulation. The AC barely worked. No breeze. Even at night, it was unbearably hot. I don’t handle heat well, and this pushed me to my limit.
At one point, I dragged my mattress to the window, tried to block heat, climbed onto a closet, and sat directly under the AC vent for an hour just to survive.
I can handle discomfort.
But heat? Heat is different.