Travelin' the train through clear Moroccan skies
Ducks and pigs and chickens call
Animal carpet wall to wall
OK, we were on a bus not the train Crosby, Stills and Nash sang about when Marrakech became a hippie mecca in the 60s.
En route, we crossed the Atlas mountains again after learning about argan oil. Believe it or not, goats climb argan trees (really!) to the eat the fruit. Once their gastric juices have broken down the shells, as tough as plastic, it's easier to process.
Argan soap for sale, post poop. Argan oil, combined with honey, tastes remarkably like peanut butter. It's reputed to have numerous health benefits.
A colorful fabric.
A snowstorm was brewing in the high Atlas, threatening to triple the time it would take to reach our destination.
Here I am at Tichka pass, nearly 7,500 feet above sea level.
The terrain got a lot greener once we left the Atlas mountains behind. Here's the view south
. . . and north, towards the Marrakech plains, past my idea of a Marrakech Express!
