On an early winter morning, I geared up to pedal 64 km from Ifrane – Morocco’s only Alpine ski town – to Midelt, at the edge of the Sahara Desert. Despite wearing several layers, I could barely feel my fingers under my gloves. It was 4 degrees Celcius, and the wind numbed my cheeks. We cycled through a forest filled with giant cedar trees, and within a few kilometers, the landscape turned into large rolling meadows resembling the Mongolian Steppes, filled with thousands of grazing sheep and the occasional nomads tending them. Warmed by the winter sun, I slowly shed my layers. The arid landscape transformed again, and filled me with nostalgia for Ladakh. All around me rose the Middle Atlas mountains in multiple hues – dry, barren, stark and incredibly stunning.
It was Day #8 of a two week cycling trip with Intrepid Travel, and I had to pinch myself again – I was really cycling in the Atlas Mountains, and experiencing the mindboggling natural beauty of Morocco on two wheels!
On an early winter morning, I geared up to pedal 64 km from Ifrane – Morocco’s only Alpine ski town – to Midelt, at the edge of the Sahara Desert. Despite wearing several layers, I could barely feel my fingers under my gloves. It was 4 degrees Celcius, and the wind numbed my cheeks. We cycled through a forest filled with giant cedar trees, and within a few kilometers, the landscape turned into large rolling meadows resembling the Mongolian Steppes, filled with thousands of grazing sheep and the occasional nomads tending them. Warmed by the winter sun, I slowly shed my layers. The arid landscape transformed again, and filled me with nostalgia for Ladakh. All around me rose the Middle Atlas mountains in multiple hues – dry, barren, stark and incredibly stunning.
It was Day #8 of a two week cycling trip with Intrepid Travel, and I had to pinch myself again – I was really cycling in the Atlas Mountains, and experiencing the mindboggling natural beauty of Morocco on two wheels!
