Cross the spectacular Tizi-n-Likemt Pass and follow the Assif Tinzart stream. 

The second day on our High Atlas adventure feels every bit as testing, thrilling, and rewarding as the early stages of Kilimanjaro. After our first camp breakfast, spirits are high as we shoulder our packs and step into a world of colour — hillsides brushed with ochre, green and grey, framed by jagged peaks, with the lush valley still lying far below. Just like on Kilimanjaro’s second day, where the climb towards Shira Plateau forces you to dig deep while adjusting to new altitudes, today we take it steadily, zig-zagging upwards towards the Tizi-n-Likemt Pass (3550m). The path is unrelenting but breathtaking — the stark beauty of the landscape pulling us forward, step by step.

At the summit of the pass, lungs burning but hearts racing, we pause — the panorama of the Atlas stretching endlessly before us, just as on Kili when the clouds part and reveal the vast African sky. This is why we climb. Cameras may capture the moment, but it’s the sense of triumph, the shared smiles, and the rush of pride that will linger long after the descent begins.

One of the fascinating parts of trekking in Morocco’s High Atlas is the way the journey is supported. Unlike Kilimanjaro, where long lines of porters shoulder the weight of tents, food, and supplies, here it is the mules and their muleteers who carry the load. It’s a centuries-old system, woven into Berber culture, and it gives the trek a very special rhythm.

Each morning, while we shouldered our their light day packs with water, snacks, and spare layers, the muleteers carefully balance duffel bags, cooking gear, and provisions across the backs of their sure-footed animals. Watching them set off, bells tinkling as they move ahead along the trails, feels like stepping back into another time.

There is a wonderful contrast with Kilimanjaro. On Africa’s highest peak, you walk past lines of porters moving silently with heavy loads balanced on their heads or backs. In the High Atlas, the steady clip-clop of hooves and the calm presence of the muleteers create a different soundtrack — quieter, almost timeless, yet no less humbling when you think about the work behind the scenes to make the journey possible.

By the time we reached camp in the late afternoon, the muleteers had already arrived, the tents were pitched, and the smell of dinner drifts on the cool mountain air.

Whether it’s the high meadows of the Atlas or the wild slopes of Kilimanjaro, one thing remains the same: behind every great adventure lies a team whose strength, skill, and dedication make the summit possible.

Our way down brings us into a gentler world: Azib Likemt, a grazing plateau where nomads and their flocks have carved a life in simple stone huts. A mountain stream sparkles nearby, perfect for cooling weary feet, echoing those blissful breaks on Kilimanjaro where laughter and relief flow freely at rest stops.

The afternoon trail follows the Assif Tinzart, winding through a narrow valley dotted with pools, the rhythm of our boots now in tune with the land itself. Finally, as the valley opens wide, our tents await us on a high meadow beneath the dramatic shadow of Tizi-n-Ourai (3109m). Tired but fulfilled, we end the day knowing we’ve gained strength, resilience, and another story carved deep into our journey — much like that unforgettable second day on Africa’s tallest mountain.

12 hours. Twenty-one kilometres. Over 1600 metres of ascent and more than 1000 down. It’s not just a trek — it’s a test of spirit. And we’re exactly where we’re meant to be.