Some couples plan their wedding first and then their honeymoon. We did things a little differently. Before we ever decided to get married, we had already booked ourselves onto a trek up Mount Toubkal in Morocco, the highest peak in North Africa at 4,167 meters. It was going to be our next big adventure together—a challenge, a chance to do what we love most: hiking in the mountains.
So when the question of marriage came up, it just made sense. Why not choose our wedding date to line up with the trek we had already committed to? If we were going to take the plunge, we might as well take it at 4,167 meters. And so our “Hiking Moon” was born—a honeymoon defined not by beaches and cocktails, but by boots, backpacks, and the thin air of the High Atlas.
It wasn’t the conventional choice, but it was perfect for us. We love mountains. We love hiking. If we were going to mark the beginning of our marriage, what better way than to climb a mountain together?
This is the story of our Hiking Moon: a Moroccan journey of love, endurance, laughter, and the unforgettable experience of standing side by side on the roof of North Africa.
Arrival in Morocco: From Marrakech to the Atlas Mountains
After a long flight from Cape Town, we landed in Marrakech, the beating heart of Morocco. But instead of diving into the famous souks and squares right away, we only passed through at first—our real destination lay in the mountains. A driver whisked us away from the city chaos, and within minutes the landscape began to change.
The drive from Marrakech to Imlil (around two hours) is a journey in itself. The flat, ochre-colored plains gave way to winding mountain roads that snaked through valleys and past tiny villages where children waved as we passed. Along the way, roadside stalls displayed pyramids of oranges, jars of golden honey, and carpets hanging in the sun.
By the time we reached Imlil, the gateway village to Mount Toubkal, it felt as though we had entered another world. Nestled at 1,740 meters, surrounded by walnut groves and terraced hillsides, the village is quiet and welcoming. Stone houses hug the slopes, donkeys carry goods up narrow alleys, and the snow-capped peaks of the High Atlas rise dramatically in the distance.
What struck us most was the warmth of the Berber people, Morocco’s indigenous inhabitants who call these mountains home. Known for their resilience and hospitality, the Berbers (or Amazigh, as they call themselves) live simple lives deeply connected to the land. We were welcomed with steaming glasses of mint tea—sweet, fragrant, and symbolic of Moroccan generosity.
As the sun dipped behind the peaks, we settled into our guesthouse, a mix of rustic charm and comfort. This would be our last night in “civilization” before trading the comforts of our honeymoon suite for trekking boots, backpacks, and mountain huts. Tomorrow, our adventure would begin.
Then came a delightful surprise: our hike leader had secretly arranged a lavish honeymoon suite just for us.
While the other hikers had to squeeze into tiny rooms where their bags barely fit inside, we stepped into a cozy, beautifully prepared space—soft bedding, a bit of extra privacy, and the luxury of comfort at the end of a long day.
No one complained; it was taken in good spirit, and the gesture felt incredibly sweet.
The Trek Begins: Honeymoon Meets Adventure
Leaving Comfort Behind
On the morning of our first trekking day, we traded the comforts of our usual lives for boots, backpacks, and the open trail.
There was something symbolic about stepping out of comfort and into adventure together, hand in hand. The air in Imlil was crisp, carrying the scent of walnut trees and mountain herbs. Donkeys brayed in the distance, ready to carry supplies up the slopes.
We knew this hike would be challenging, but it was exactly what we wanted: to begin our married life facing something real, together.
Day 1: From Imlil to the Mountains
Our first day’s trek led us out of Imlil at 1,740m, gradually climbing through terraced fields and groves of walnut and cherry trees. The paths wound past Berber villages where children waved and women carried baskets balanced effortlessly on their heads.
As we gained altitude, the views expanded—deep valleys opened below us, framed by rugged cliffs. Roadside stalls offered fresh orange juice, nuts, and dates. A mule train passed, laden with supplies for the mountain refuge. The pace was steady, a warm-up for the climb ahead, and by late afternoon we reached camp.
That evening we slept in tents under the stars, and for us, the memory of that little touch—the luxury amidst the adventure—added something magical to our journey.
Sharing a simple meal together, far from the world below, felt like a gift.
Day 2: The Valley of a Thousand Zig-Zags
If Day 1 was a gentle introduction, Day 2 demanded more. This section of the trail is known as the Valley of a Thousand Zig-Zags, and the name is no exaggeration. Switchback after switchback, we climbed steadily higher, tracing a path that twisted endlessly up the slopes.
It was exhausting, yes—but also strangely poetic. Each zig and zag felt like a metaphor for marriage: progress not always in a straight line, sometimes sideways, sometimes back on yourself, but always moving upward if you keep going together.
We paused often to catch our breath, sip water, and admire the scenery. Hardy mountain herbs like wild thyme and rosemary perfumed the air, while high above birds (possibly eagles) circled in the thermals.
By the time we reached camp that evening, legs aching but spirits high, we felt closer than ever. The mountains have a way of stripping life down to its essentials: walking, breathing, sharing.
Nights in the Mountains
Camping in the High Atlas was an experience in itself. Nights were cold but magical. Wrapped in sleeping bags, we listened to the sound of the wind rushing down the valleys. Above us, the stars stretched endlessly, undimmed by city lights.
There’s a romance in simplicity—drinking tea brewed with devotion by our fantastic guides and porters, sharing snacks, brushing teeth by headlamp. These moments may not be glamorous, but they are unforgettable, stitched into the fabric of our marriage as deeply as any candlelit dinner.
Summit Day
The Pre-Dawn Start
Summit day began long before sunrise.
We woke around 3 a.m., bundled in layers against the mountain cold, and slipped on our headlamps. The refuge was quiet, save for the sound of zippers and whispered encouragements. Ahead of us lay the final ascent to Mount Toubkal’s summit at 4,167 meters, North Africa’s highest peak.
The trail climbed steeply through loose scree and rocky paths. Each step required focus, but the darkness added a sense of intimacy—we moved together, helping each other along, sharing quiet jokes to ease the tension. The stars above were brilliant, like a ceiling of diamonds stretching to infinity.
The Summit
As dawn approached, the sky began to glow pink and orange. The final push tested our endurance, but the payoff was extraordinary. Standing at the summit, we were greeted with panoramic views of the High Atlas Mountains, and, on the clearest days, a faint shimmer of the Sahara in the distance.
The sense of achievement was immense—not just the physical climb, but doing it as a couple. It felt symbolic: a shared challenge, conquered together. We took photos, savored a quiet moment of reflection, and breathed in the crisp, thin mountain air.
Reaching the summit on our Hiking Moon was more than a physical accomplishment—it was a metaphor for our marriage. Life would have ups, downs, twists, and stretches that seemed endless. But with trust, teamwork, and shared determination, we could reach great heights together.
Celebrating Together
We shared snacks, toasted with water and hugged at the highest point in North Africa.
It was a moment of community and joy, a reminder that adventure connects people across cultures and continents.
Back to Imlil
Descending Mount Toubkal is easier on the legs but requires focus.
Our knees rattled along loose scree, and the sense of relief at being safely on the trail was tempered by the desire to savor the remaining time in the mountains.
Along the way, we paused at the shrine of Sidi Chamharouch, a small, whitewashed building beside a mountain stream. This shrine, dedicated to a local marabout, is considered sacred. Moroccans believe it offers protection and blessings to those who visit.
The shrine added a spiritual dimension to our descent. Sitting by the flowing water, we reflected on the climb, the beauty surrounding us, and the significance of this adventure. It was a quiet, peaceful interlude before returning to the bustling life of Imlil.
By the time we arrived back in Imlil, tired but elated, we felt a profound sense of accomplishment. The village seemed smaller after seeing it from the heights, and every detail—the donkeys, the terraces, the smoke rising from stone chimneys—felt familiar and dear.
Our Hiking Moon was only beginning. Mountains climbed, hearts full, we were ready to continue our Moroccan adventure but not before making Jumuah prayers in the mosque in Imlil.
The most meaningful part of the hike was after Jumuah, when one of our porters, Sohail, insisted we come to his house for tea. After much dithering, because our hotel had prepared lunch for us, actually, we had no choice, his monther insisted we come for tea – and as anyone knows, you don’t argue with a Berber mother.
Although she spoke not one word of English, French or Arabic, her body language told us we could not refuse.
‘Tea’ turned out to be lunch; which the family prepared for us. The humblest but most sublime meal of the entire trip.
The warmth and hospitality of our hosts was superb.
Suffice to say, we never had that hotel lunch.
Post-Climb Marrakech
Back To The Red City
After conquering Mount Toubkal, returning to Marrakech felt like stepping into another world. The mountain air gave way to warm desert breezes, and the stillness of the peaks was replaced by the buzzing heartbeat of the medina.
We checked into a riad, its courtyard filled with orange trees and a fountain tinkling gently in the center. After the physical exertion of the climb, Marrakech offered the perfect place to rest, recharge, and shop!
Our evenings were spent on rooftop terraces, sipping mint tea and watching the Koutoubia Mosque glow in the fading sun.
The nights in Marrakech have their own magic—lamps flickering, musicians playing in the distance, and the scent of tagines floating on the air.
For a honeymoon couple, the city was intoxicating. We wandered hand in hand through Jemaa el-Fnaa, tasting fresh orange juice, dodging salesmen, and getting henna tattoos.
Every corner offered a new sensory delight.
Exploring Morocco – From Cities to Deserts
Marrakech – Museum & City Walk
Back in Marrakech, the medina enveloped us in its rhythm—spices, carpets, snake charmers, and alleys alive with chatter.
Yet we found quieter treasures, too. At the Museum of Marrakech, we discovered the rich heritage of the Berbers, Morocco’s indigenous people. Their history fascinated us, especially the significance of traditional Berber jewellery. Every necklace, bracelet, or headpiece carried meaning—symbols of fertility, strength, and protection, often passed down through generations.
These weren’t just ornaments but living storytellers of identity and resilience.
Later, we strolled past the Koutoubia Mosque, its minaret towering above the city, before drifting back into the buzz of the souks, mesmerised by lanterns that glittered like constellations.
Cascades d'Ouzoud
From Marrakech, we set out to the waterfalls. It was a lush escape, shaded by greenery and cooled by mist.
Here, Papa Grizzly, never one to resist adventure, suddenly jumped overboard into the pool below the falls.
His spontaneous swim had us laughing, a memory that remains as refreshing as the water itself.
Essaouira – Coastal Breezes & Argan Trees
Next came Essaouira, with its sea winds, whitewashed walls, and a slower rhythm. We visited an argan oil cooperative, where local women demonstrated the ancient tradition of grinding the seeds by hand to release the precious oil. Watching their skill was humbling—it’s painstaking, communal work that has supported Berber women for centuries.
Inspired, Chucky and I decided to climb an argan tree—just like the famous goats who feast on its bitter seeds. We laughed, pretending to be goats ourselves, and even broke into a mock Bollywood-style dance around the tree, to the delight of everyone watching. Essaouira was playful, lighthearted, and filled with sea air.
The Desert Adventure – Camels, Stars & Family Hospitality
Our journey then carried us toward the desert, but not without a fascinating detour. We stopped at Aït Benhaddou, a red-sandstone ksar and UNESCO World Heritage Site.
The fortress-like village has served as the backdrop for countless films, from Lawrence of Arabia to Gladiator and even Game of Thrones.
The heat was intense, but spirits stayed high—especially when a handsome busker began making a bold play for Aunty Neesha. She laughed along, though Papa J swiftly put a stop to it, with mock sternness. The moment was pure comedy, a memory we’ll never forget.
By evening, we had crossed into the Sahara.
That night, after riding camels deep into the desert under a velvet sky, Chucky and I chose to sleep under the stars rather than inside the tents. By dawn, we found ourselves buried eyeball-deep in sand, winds having reshaped the dunes around us as we slept. It was surreal, magical, and unforgettable.
Leaving the desert the next morning, we rode out on camels, our caravan retracing its path before we were driven back to Marrakech. Not before, of course, another homecooked meal—this time at Mohammed’s sister’s house.
A Bittersweet Farewell
Our final night in Marrakech was tinged with bittersweet emotions. The adventure had been everything we had hoped for—mountains, oceans, deserts, and culture intertwined with laughter, surprises, and love.
But as we boarded our flight home, there was one last celebration waiting.
On 11 September 2015, mid-air on the journey back to Cape Town, we toasted Pacha Mama’s birthday. It felt like a fitting end.
Started with wedding cake. Ended with birthday cake!
Looking back on our Hikingmoon, it feels less like a single trip and more like a lifetime condensed into a few short weeks.
From the snow-kissed peaks of the Atlas Mountains to the crashing Atlantic waves in Essaouira, from bustling Marrakech to the stillness of the desert, every day brought its own rhythm and lesson.
We learned that the best views don’t come easy—you have to climb through the Valley of a Thousand Zig-Zags or wake at 3am for a summit push.
We learned that joy can be found in the unexpected, like Papa Grizzly diving into a waterfall, or a busker serenading Aunty Neesha.
We discovered that sometimes the most magical nights are spent under the stars, only to wake buried in sand by dawn.
Our friends brought texture to the journey. Their laughter, teasing, and quirks turned every destination into a story.
Morocco gave us not only landscapes to marvel at, but also memories to carry into married life.
Perhaps the greatest gift of this Hikingmoon was its reminder that travel, at its heart, is about connection. To each other. To strangers who welcome you into their homes. To the ancestors who left their stories in kasbah walls and Berber jewellery. And above all, to the earth herself —whose mountains, oceans, and deserts held us in her embrace.
We began this journey as newlyweds, wide-eyed with excitement. We returned as partners who had weathered long climbs, sleepless nights, and sandy surprises—and who laughed, danced, and loved even more deeply because of them.
Our Hikingmoon was more than a honeymoon. It was a pilgrimage to love, adventure, and the kind of joy that comes only when you step beyond the ordinary. A reminder that marriage, like hiking, is about walking together, sometimes uphill, sometimes in circles, but always side by side.
As we toasted Pacha Mama on that final flight home, we knew this was only the beginning. The trails ahead—both on maps and in life—will be many. And we are ready for all of them. Together.
Here’s to the next 10 years of hiking adventures!
Love reading your story ,you get the reader ,to feel the experience & what a beautiful bride,,,,,continue keeping us motivated & giving hope
Beautiful Beautiful and beautiful. Stunning blog. Happy Anniversary.