Transfer to Oukaimeden and trek through dramatic scenery to Foussarou. 

The first day of any adventure always carries that mix of nerves and excitement. As we loaded our bags into the minibus in Marrakech, you could feel the energy between us – a shared sense of anticipation for what lay ahead. None of us knew exactly what the High Atlas would throw our way, but that uncertainty was part of the magic.

Leaving behind the vibrant colours, sounds and bustle of Marrakech, the road soon began to climb. The further we drove, the more the city faded into memory and the mountains began to rise in front of us. Their peaks stood bold against the horizon, both inviting and intimidating. This was no ordinary landscape – this was the gateway to our journey, the first step towards the summit of North Africa’s highest mountain, Mount Toubkal.

About 80km from the city we reached Oukaimeden, perched at 2600m. It’s Morocco’s best-known ski resort during the winter months, but today it was almost deserted – the summer silence making it feel like a hidden gem waiting just for us. With ski lifts standing still and the highest ski lift in Africa towering above at 3243m, it was hard not to imagine the slopes buzzing with life in the snow season. For now, though, we had it almost to ourselves. We shared a simple lunch, taking in the fresh mountain air and the stunning views, already feeling a world away from where we had started this morning.

From Oukaimeden our trek began in earnest. The trail wound steadily upwards, every step taking us deeper into the mountains. As we reached the Tiz N’Aaadi Pass at 2980m, the effort was rewarded a hundred times over with sweeping views of the surrounding peaks and valleys. This was the High Atlas revealing its beauty for the first time – vast, rugged, and utterly spectacular.

The scenery was a complete contrast to my previous trekking challenges where the first day was spent walking gently through the lush rainforest that’s around the base of Kilimanjaro.

The descent brought us to our first camp at Foussarou (2400m), where the village of Tacheddirt lay quietly in the foothills across the valley.

It was the perfect place to end the day: a reminder that life in these mountains has been sustained by Berber communities for centuries. After settling into our tents and sharing a hearty dinner, we were treated to a clear night sky. The stars, free from city lights, seemed close enough to touch.

As we crawled into our sleeping bags, tired but inspired, one thought echoed through us all: this was only the beginning.