It’s hot and dusty and this morning our legs are more tired than usual.
We are on a dirty road in the High Atlas mountains.
Suddenly a car slams on the breaks and places side by side. It is a dark sedan, carrying a cloud of dust that covers everything around it.
We can not see how many people are inside the car, the windows are too grimy and the midday sun makes the reflections very strong.
After a few moments the four doors open and five dingy smiling guys come out, trying to make the impossible: take the dust off of them.

We are also very dusty, with our backpacks on the shoulders, but we try to manage the situation.
The only thing we can understand is a continuous “ça va? ça va? ça va? “… among laughters, surprise and fun.
We would like to say: “we are fine, just dustier than you, but fine!”

We had recently eaten two oranges that had been given to us previously, on the side of the road as we were looking at a village in the distance, across the river, and less than an hour before we’ve been talking with a Berber goat shepherd who somehow was trying to explain to us that there could still be snow on the Plateau Du Tichka.

In the sudden confusion and buzz of the funny group, we are invited to take off our backpacks and put them into the cabin. The absurdity is that the car was already loaded to the maximum: bags, food supplies, two tambourines and an amplifier with an electric banjo!

Their direction is the right one, but we are not in a hurry, because as in all of the Altripiani itineraries it is fine to hitch-hike, but we do not even need to squeeze into a car especially if the sun is still high in the blue sky.
But they insist, so we tighten. We are seven people in the car now, three in the front and four behind with two backpacks and everything you need for a vacation week with five friends.
We find out that one of them is getting married soon and this is a bit of an adventure before the big step: they will go to a family house at the end of the valley and will spend there a few days of leisure.

It is hot in the car, we keep opening and closing the windows, but at every bend or wind direction change, the cloud of dust invades us. It seems absurd, but it is very funny.
Morocco is a territory that mixes sand, rock, dust and earth of the most various colours. One among all is the brown that is mixed with red.
The conversations last a few sentences of French and then end in healthy laughters.
Moustapha proves to be the quietest and the most curious of the group; maybe he is also the shyest, because of the embarrassment of not being able to communicate fluently.

Moustapha’s grandparents live in the village of Tizza and we are invited into a purple-walled room for a lunch.
We take off our shoes, wash our hands and Rachid prepares the tea masterfully, stirring it several times to melt down the sugar that settles on the bottom of the teapot.
Tea, Argan oil, butter and bread at will are just an aperitif.
It follows a tajine with the typical sauce, the marcà, which we share in brotherhood.

After the goodbyes we are accompanied beyond the end of the village by many children, probably they wanted the proof that all of us fit in the car!
So, with the mastery of those who have been doing it for a lifetime, each one of us takes his own seat.
After about ten kilometers of the winding road – but fortunately shortly after crossing the pass, Lahcen who is driving realises that something is wrong.

“We broke the oil pan!” – he repeats several times – “We have a problem!”

Between the worry and the excitement of a real adventure taste the guys seem very calm.
Under the car, touching the engine the only result you can get is to get dirty, so the solution is one: TO CONTINUE BY FOOT!