The Stillness Deep Within
“We travel, initially, to lose ourselves; and we travel, next to find ourselves.”
Four years ago today, I was sitting on my hotel balcony in Marrakesh, enjoying my last Moroccan sunrise as I listened to a muezzin proclaim the adhan, the call to prayer. This was also the last day of my 2-month walking adventure, a journey I had set out on with the hope that walking would bring me back to myself.
Facebook has been sending me almost daily memories of this trip and now, 4 years later, I am aching to head off to explore new trails and old roads. I have always enjoyed solitary travel but it has only been in recent years that being alone for long periods of time has invited me into that stillness deep within where I find the answers to my doubts and uncertainties. I love this description of silence, "it is like bird watching, you don’t go searching for birds, you go and sit and wait for them to appear. It is waiting in the quiet that actually feeds our soul." I experience a similar silence when I am on long, solitary walking trips. Rebecca Solnit, in her book Wanderlust: A History of Walking, shares that “walking allows us to be in our bodies and in the world without being made busy by them. It leaves us free to think without being wholly lost in our thoughts.”
I also enjoy travelling with the right group of travellers, particularly when I am venturing to places where I feel it might be unwise to travel on my own. At the age of 58, I visited Morocco as part of a group experience, travelling with like-minded people, but also able to carve out alone time on the journey. After 6-weeks of solitary walking through Spain and Portugal, I travelled to Morocco wanting to experience a culture that I hoped would test my comfort zone. I spent a few days by myself in Marrakesh and then joined an Intrepid Tour to explore southern Morocco. I discovered a country that filled my soul with its breathtaking beauty, kind people, and humble traditions. When I travel, I very much live in the moment, the past fades away and I don’t think about the future. While in Morocco, I spent a night at a homestay with a family in the Atlas Mountains, and as I re-read my Facebook memory of that visit this morning, I was transported back and once again felt like I was living in that moment. As now is not the time to lace up hiking boots and hit the road again, I thought I would invite you to join me as I reminisce about my homestay adventure.
A pack mule, ready to carry our backpacks, awaited us in the village of Imlil, the end of the paved road at the base of the Atlas Mountains. The morning air was cool and crisp as we began our 3-kilometer hike up the mountain along a narrow trail to the village of Aroumd. Mount Toukbal, the highest mountain in northern Africa loomed over us, covered in a blanket of deep snow. We passed by a small mosque, where the imam sat on the front steps, teaching a group of laughing, colourfully robed young children who were much more interested in playing. Walnut trees grew among the rocks and streams rushed by us, carrying icy mountain water down to the valley.
The labyrinth of alleyways and staircases in Aroumd left us breathless. Finally, at the top of one last staircase, we stepped on to a vine-covered patio and were welcomed with traditional Maghrebi tea, a symbol of hospitality and friendship. We huddled close in the mountain air as Mohammed, our host, held the teapot high above the table and poured each of us a glass of this local green tea flavoured with spearmint and sugar. The tea warmed us as he told us what we could expect from our Berber homestay.
Mohammed led us into the guesthouse and showed us the bedrooms –heatless rooms where windows stood wide open, beds covered in thick blankets and furry pillows. He then led us into the combination living/dining room, a simple, undecorated room with a giant unlit fireplace at one end, the only source of heat in the house. Would the fire be lit later, we asked? If you’re lucky, he answered with a laugh.
We were introduced to Abdul, who would be our guide as we hiked up the steep mountain to Sidh Chamharouch, a Muslim shrine. An annual pilgrimage for many Moroccans, this late in the year we would have the trail to ourselves.
The hike took us across a vast flood plain before we started our climb. Boys of all ages were playing a game of soccer on the edge of the village. Several stooped-over women passed us, carrying huge bales of scrub to feed the mules in the village. Shepherds, herding small flocks of foraging goats, acknowledged us with a curt nod. The trail was quiet and we only passed the occasional mountain climber returning from their ascent of Mount Akboul. The hike was steep and spectacular, the thinning air left us breathless. By the time we reached the shrine we were hot and sweating. Abdul took us to a little stand and introduced us to his cousin, who served us freshly squeezed orange juice made from local oranges.
We slipped on small rocks on our steep descent back to the village. A chilly wind swirled down the mountain with us as we watched the setting sun. We were hungry, shivering, and exhausted.
As we walked through the guesthouse door we could hear Berber music playing softly on the radio and the clanging of pots in the kitchen. We walked into the living room and were welcomed by a roaring fire, tagines of couscous, vegetables, and roast lamb, and a bottomless pot of verbena tea, known to help induce sleep. We shared stories of our trekking adventure while enjoying the warmth of companionship, good food, and crackling logs. After dinner, we settled into a comfortable silence by the fire, feeling content and sleepy. Even in the company of others, I felt the deep stillness within that accompanies me when travelling on my own.
Have you been re-living travel memories during these last months? Are you also aching to head off on another adventure? My travel bucket list is long. First on my list is a trekking holiday to Jordan – I’m thinking I would love to explore Jordan with a group of women, women like you who are as intrigued by this aging journey as I am. Intrepid Travel offers a women’s expedition through Jordan that looks particularly intriguing. I also like revisiting places and a return trip to Faedo, in the Asturian Mountains of Spain, for another hiking and yoga retreat with Spanish Steps is also high on my list. What wonderful adventures are on your bucket list? Where do you want to travel? And would you consider travelling alone?