Originally uploaded by Mic2006.
Here a companion and I (me with the hat) pose at the edge of a village in the High Atlas Range. This is typical scenery in the area, we are heading for Mount Toumbakal by mercedes taxi from Marakesh. If I recall correctly the journey took several hours and cost me only thirteen dollars.
Though the Rif Mountains in the north seemed to be known as the major drug producing areas, huge bricks of earthy coloured hashish could be found in every local market. The wares were invariably laid out on a grubby blanket, attended by an old lady whose exposed skin would be heavily inscribed with spidery tatooes. Young boys would chase you down – thrusting big lumps of their merchandise at you. I recall thinking that the going rate for a palm sized plate of resin was somewhere around 2 pounds sterling, It was about 26 durhams at the time.
The roads wound deep into the mountains until we were literally on the edge of the sahara. In places the wind blew knife edged dunes across the road and the people looked sucked dry like leathery mummies. I wondered how they survived.