“Gîte Jamal, in Taghia!? What's this, you don't have an address? The airport policeman gets angry.
– No, this is the only information I have about where I will be staying for the next two weeks… Sorry. »
Then, with exemplary kindness, muttering behind his Plexiglas, he stamps the sesame and throws me my passport without an ounce of consideration.
OK, note to myself, if I ever come back to Morocco, I will have some semblance of a slightly more precise address to provide to the cops when I arrive in the country, like an Ibis hotel or something like that. For this trip, I am accompanied by Clem, with whom I have already shared so many adventures. I'm super excited to tackle this climbing trip to Morocco with him to climb and discover the legendary walls of the Atlas.
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