After a sumptuous night at the 'gorge' ous Yasmina we awoke to another full breakfast. The view up the gorge suggested more adventure.
We turned away to see sheep around us, seemingly emaciated, they resembled walking pipe cleaners.
Meeting up with our compatriots around the peak, we found John discussing the weather (or the like) with travelling mountain Berbers. Then a young girl headed warily towards us with three laden donkeys.
Lance had made the decision to join us on the long trek upwards. He did so well on the walk apart from a little fall, unfortunately on a prickly bush, resulting in his big bro Paul removing numerous painful spines with a large needle and tweezers. A badge of honour for a brave hero to gladly bare!
On the way down Mike kept taking his usual batch of excellent pictures, and paying a few extra dirhams for this friendly chap to pose with us. We'd turned into tourists for a few minutes.
Dinner tonight was unusual as it was alcohol-free. Serves us right, if the kind reader will forgive the pun.
Tomorrow we were heading south into the desert again, so we needed to share out the forbidden booze. The cans of beer were obscenely expensive, so it was with dismay when one of our party rightly complained of a hissing noise in his bag. Less of a cobra, more of a wounded can. Upon examination, the metal was so thin as to be almost translucent. However, I can say with pride I still have one in our fridge here in Blighty at this time of editing yet again (26.8.11).
PS Someone in our party was the first to buy a carpet today. A book has been running here, but can you guess who succumbed first? Magic, in one.
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