A 7 day trek of the Atlas Mountains in Morocco at the age of 18 for charity

Stepping this jagged cliff edge carefully; aware that this narrow aisle is all that divides me from a deathly drop. Imprinted upon my freckled shoulders is my rucksack. The Dusty ground of the high peak clings to my broken in boots as insects hurry between stones… my short yet determined legs slip as I labour through the heavy rainstorm. Carried only by stale bread and a handful of nuts for breakfast, my feet move almost distantly from my body as if they belong to another. Bangs of thunder and stabs of lightning; these familiar signs of midday.

Berber children jump past me from rock to rock; these perilous mountains their playground. Like a mirage to my tired eyes, I see our next base camp in the distance; a stony valley enclosed with rugged peaks; a blue lake fills its cavity. Now sinking into this ground mat with thankfulness and ease; through his proud eyes, Ali tells of his Berber heritage. I hum to the language I cannot understand, but to the expression I feel; “we are not much different you know”.

Unable to sleep, I tend to my blistered feet; I notice a boy, wide eyed with caution. To him, I fear I am "the Tourist”. Torching the quiet sky are these stars above me. As the whispering echoes bounce from peak to peak, I feel a settling presence. This moon lightened abyss- I melt into. Journeyed footpaths through these Atlas Mountains; like ghosts, they guide me.

I scoop up some water, which is boiled to drinking point. We take off again hours before dawn. Looking at the steep trek upwards filled with high boulders; the last five minutes of my iPod backdrops the lit path of my head light. Struggling to keep going, Ali assures me; “You sheep, you strong”. Something of his bloated belly and gap toothed smile reminded me of a loved one, I think I once knew. Sitting side by side, we spoke together in a language robbed of any cultural barrier. “What this” he points, I explain; “just a bracelet”. I give him the coloured string bracelet and looking into his weathered face a flawed beauty beams out beyond his happy eyes.

Elevated like a god now, I am above all mountains in a place my dreams had anticipated but surpassing any imagined expectation. Exalted now; my throat fills with emotion; for this divine moment, I touch with the sublime and vow to always remember. I am the mountainous woman; working these mountains like my back garden. I am strong. Dizzy with altitude, my mind escaped. A romance was formed, and no dose of reality could save me.