Across the Atlas Mountains and into the desert

The drive from Marrakesh into the Atlas Mountains and the desert beyond can be terrifying. The road leaves Marrakesh and winds through dusty olive groves and occasional luxury golfing complexes, but soon begins to climb.

It’s a tortuous, winding mountain road, a serpentine that doubles back on itself again and again as it carves its way up toward the Tichka pass at 2,260 metres above sea level.

The trip is stunning. You’ll come across Berber villages, simple adobe huts that seem to grow organically from the mountainside, occasionally punctuated by a brightly painted minaret. You can also stop and take strong, sweet mint tea, a perfect caffeine and sugar rush in preparation for a hot trip into the desert.

The one thing I didn’t enjoy was the driving. Our guide would laugh as we winced repeatedly at his habit of overtaking on blind corners. He said he’d seen the road from the previous bend and there was nothing coming. We had no option but to trust him, but it was nerve wracking.

As we drove up, we saw a group of men trying to recover a car from a steep slope on the side of the road, a clear reminder that this road was not to be taken lightly. But the view from the Tichka pass, where the air was a little cooler than in the valleys below, was well worth it. Below is Susana, my fiance (we got engaged in Marrakesh, as it goes) and that's me with the camera. You needed sunglasses because the light was blinding. Sunscreen too!

From there it was into the desert, the temperature climbing steadily in direct proportion to our rate of descent. At times it was hitting 50 degrees Celsius. Let me translate that for those of you in the states. That’s 122 degrees Fahrenheit! It was unbearable at times.

 This was the road to Ouarzazate, the gateway to the desert beyond which lies the Sahara in all its barren, desolate beauty. We snaked past green oasis of date palms and scrub and stopped to take photos of medieval towns like Ait Benhaddou, where Hollywood producers have filmed more than a few Biblical epics.

 We also pulled faces at a few camels we spotted by the roadside. And all the way to Ouarzazate, we sipped litre after litre of warm water, dreaming of cold poolside beers and wondering if our guide, who wore long sleeves and pants, would ever think it warm enough to switch on the damn air conditioning!

Next, the restaurant at the gateway to the desert.