The day started off well with breakfast under the Berbere tent although we had to provide our own eggs. I then decided to have a hair cut at the local barber with Lahsin guiding us.

Seeing that my head was not chopped off, Alison managed to persuade Adrian to follow suit. The walk was a bit too far for little Adrian and soon he was being carried Berbere style back to the guest house.

After saying our goodbyes and not forgetting to settle the bill, we headed for Tondra Gorge with the intention of crossing the piste to Dades Gorge. Some French tourist took an interest in Tuah at the gorge. Not far from where the road ended, a young lad asked for a lift to Tamtattouchte, a village along the way and he had to cling on outside as we had no space in Tuah. When we got to Tamtattouchte, the lad didn’t want to get off insisting that he wanted to show us the way to the piste. By this time we were accustomed to the local tactics and the lad was told to get off. He left with 10 Dhs.

We found the track to the piste and after a couple of hours of heading North West we stopped by a rest area manned by Berberes, an old man and his grandson, to confirm the direction. By this time the track was getting difficult. We got to the top of a piste and were confronted by large boulders and rocks. Old man Berbere had by then, caught up with us and offered to move the rocks while walking ahead of us.

A kilometer or so later old man Berebere left us, €3 better off and probably putting back the large rocks he had moved while walking back.

The track was extremely difficult and for quite a distance we had to follow tracks in the dry river bed. Alison was getting anxious as the track just went on and on but Tuah took all that was thrown at him with confidence. A few times the lean angle was quite large and I had to tell Alison not to look down the slope but to look ahead although I myself felt my knees going weak.

After 5 hours of worry and tension (Alison’s words), we met our first vehicle, another 4x4 (with a guide), going to Tondra and only then we were confident we were heading the right direction.

The Spanish couple in the other 4x4, didn’t look too pleased when informed that they will have another 5 hours of hell ahead. I heard a big sigh of relief, not only from Alison but also from within; when we saw the sign post with Boulmine on it. The day’s drive didn’t end there but 2 hours later in Boulmine where we found the supermache for Adrian’s ice cream and then La Kasbah de Dades where we stayed for the night.