THE ATLAS MOUNTAINS
Morocco
The Atlas Mountains consist of three separate ranges, which you will hear often described in Morocco as Haute-Atlas, Moyen-Atlas, and Anti-Atlas.
All three of these mountain clusters sit within the Kingdom of Morocco, a country that has remained a monarchy. Geographically, Morocco is the only North African country to touch both the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean, while its land borders Algeria to the east, Western Sahara to the south, and almost reaches Spain to the north, divided only by a waterway known as the Strait of Gibraltar. These mountains are what separates both the Atlantic and Mediterranean coastlines from the expansive Sahara desert.
To give you some insight into just how old life in Morocco really is, you’d have to go all the way back to Paleolithic times. But for the purpose of today’s journey, what you need to know is that civilization in this region dates back to the Phoenicians, moving through a whole lot of change between the indigenous Berber tribes, the Carthage, Mauretania, early Islam, Vandals, the Roman Empire, the Muslim Conquest, a handful of dynasties, revolts, and – *long exhale* – extensive European influence. Finally, we arrive in the 20th century, when Morocco was conquered by the French in 1912, establishing a protectorate up until 1956 when the kingdom finally regained its independence.
To sum it up, Morocco is a country with a dynamic history. Today, it’s truly a melting pot of ancient cultures, which has created a modern civilization of exceptional adaptability. A large percentage of the population speaks multiple languages, and walking down the street, it’s not unusual to hear a mixture of Arabic, Berber, French, English, and Spanish. Even in smaller mountain villages frequented by tourists, the locals will begin speaking Italian, German, or Russian, all in an effort to guess where you come from. It’s equally fascinating and impressive!
But I’m not interested in these mountain ranges for their linguistic diversity alone; I’m here to explore a world-renowned Moroccan tradition: The art of rug-making.
The rugs are traditionally made by the Berbers, an indigenous group that’s been present in northern Africa since at least 10,000 BC.
While Berbers can be found throughout northern Africa, the highest number now resides in Morocco, making up 40% of the country’s total population at almost 20 million. Throughout the millennia, they’ve passed down their own language and traditions, including weaving.
Woven textiles by Berbers are used for everything from clothing to rugs. But it’s not just about aesthetics; rugs are critical for maintaining a home’s temperature in a place where temperatures can dip below zero degrees Celsius in winter. For example, some rugs are two-sided with a high-pile weave or fluffy side for winter use, and a flat weave for summer use.
Each Berber tribe has mastered its own ancestral style and technique of weaving, which is passed down through generations and carried out exclusively by women. Rug style names are based on the names of the villages where each design originated, and with tribes found through all three regions of the Atlas mountains, there’s an endless variety of styles and designs. You’ll almost never see the same rug twice, as the women tend to design as they go, based on the emotion they want to evoke or the story they’re trying to tell. Each piece is unique, and takes on average between one to three months to complete, dependent on the size and complexity.
Since most of these rural villages don’t offer any employment options, creating a demand helps these women make a living within a traditional trade they are passionate about. After learning about their artistry, I simply fell in love and knew I needed to know more. I needed to see the weaving process in action.
It was time to visit Morocco and to hand-select the rugs for Tajmi’s collection.
On the day of my arrival in Marrakesh, the entire city was covered in a dense cloud of dust.
No one seemed to think anything of it when explaining that it was due to a sandstorm coming in from the Sahara Desert. To me, this sounded like the most magical sentence. For days, the air was thick with the Saharan dust, and the sun was an eerie orange fire in the sky, trying to burst through the haze. It wasn’t until five days later that the sand finally settled, exposing the true colours of the old city.
Often referred to as the “Red City,” Marrakesh gained its nickname due to the red sandstone that was used to build the city’s surrounding walls in the early 12th century, as well as the majority of buildings that make up the maze-like medina (the walled area of the historic old city).
How do I even begin to describe this alluring environment? It seduces your senses in so many ways, as it completely envelops you with its endless temptations. You might get run over by a motorcycle or a donkey cart, while your eyes are distracted by the endless stalls of artisanal products. The call to prayer will sound loudly from the mosque towers five times a day, and if you’re not used to this, the mesmerizing chants transport you into another world, one that feels very far away. The narrow streets squeeze you in as you weave around roadside obstacles, and very quickly you feel as though you’re on the set of an Indiana Jones film.
I chose to stay in a riad (a traditional house within the medina), which is a must regardless of whether you’re in Marrakesh for a few days or a few weeks. You won’t easily find them from the outside, as each riad is hidden surrounded by high walls, with a single entry doorway that belies what’s beyond. Once you enter, you’ll be carried away into a decadent space, often with an open-air courtyard or small pool in its centre. This may lead to the rooftop, with a warm breeze flowing throughout. Originally built for multi-generational living all under one roof, most of Marrakesh’s riads have been converted into hotels, restaurants, or rental properties. I intended to just start my stay at Riad El Ouarda, but I ended up never leaving. It became a home away from home.
After I’d spent two weeks in the city, meeting with locals and creating new partnerships, I started to hear more about the Atlas regions, where many handmade Berber products originate from.
I decided that it was time to get closer to the source of Morocco’s legendary rugs.
Marrakesh sits at the foothills of the High Atlas mountain range, so on a clear day you can see the hills surrounding the city. Although the mountains look far away, they’re only about an hour from the city and easy to access with hired transportation.
On a recommendation from locals, my destination was Imlil, a small village tucked away at the base of the highest peak in North Africa, Jbel Toubkal. (Sitting at 4,500 feet above sea level, the peak is about a two-day hiking expedition for individuals seeking some very fresh air.) On the two-hour drive to Imlil, I watched the countryside turn from sandy brown to a vibrant green, as the winding road took me further into the mountains and closer to the snow-capped peaks.
When we arrived in Imlil, my driver Amine pointed to a small mule. “Voila ton prochain véhicule!” he said. (“There’s your next ride!”)
Two men loaded my backpack onto the mule, then it was my turn to hop on. They guided me up a very steep dirt path, through an orchard of apple trees. The smell of apple blossoms and burning wood filled my nose, and in the distance I could hear the sound of running rivers. As we climbed I could see an old stone fortress just behind the trees as the sun leaked through the branches. This was my next stop – the rustic Kasbah du Toubkal!
Back when caravan routes and merchants would travel from the desert into the northern cities, a kasbah was a place of refuge and protection. Typically built at an elevated location, they were a type of fortress or citadel that often had strong walls surrounding it, offering safety for people or families. Some kasbahs are very large, housing entire cities within their walls.
It didn’t take long to realize how special the Kasbah du Toubkal is. Just like everything else in this ancient land, this kasbah has quite a history. After Morocco gained its independence in 1956, the local caïd (or chief) who occupied the kasbah left, and eventually the building fell into ruin. It sat empty for decades until a local guide befriended two British brothers, propelling a long-lasting partnership and one seemingly impossible passion project. Finally after six years the paperwork was drawn up, and reconstruction could begin.
The renovation began in 1995 and took eight years to complete. The process required the help of many locals surrounding the Imlil valley, and to this day, the project remains a source of great pride within the communities that helped rebuild it. Every aspect of the kasbah – from the building materials, to the food on your plate, to the furnishings in your room – are all sourced locally. This consideration is meant to be seen as a reflection of the Berber people, who are known for their generous hospitality, as well as their consideration and respect for others. This is demonstrated in small ways at the hotel. For example, the kasbah does not sell alcohol (although you may bring your own) in order to respect the Islamic faith, the employees, and the village people. They chose to forgo income from alcohol sales, a simple gesture which shows to those involved with the kasbah, that they consider the beliefs of the community.
The moment I set foot on the property, a sense of calm came over me. Suddenly, there was nowhere else I wanted to be. Walking through the main gate, I was greeted with figs and a warm welcome. Although I was travelling alone, I never once felt alone. The employees were so kind and hospitable. I learned as much about them as I could, and it was obvious we were curious about each other and our lives outside of the kasbah. I asked if they ever got sick of the view, and they answered in all honesty “yes.” To visitors, this place is a slice of heaven, and to these locals it was simply a giant mountain they’ve all climbed more than once.
When you travel you’re always reminded of a different perspective and this is what touches your soul most; that people all over the world just want the same things. We are all curious by nature and seek different experiences to feel alive.
My experiences in Morocco were rich and I learned so much during my time there, but what I found to be the most exceptional was the general willingness of people to help. Whether it was in the city or the mountains, on a train or in the street, strangers would stop to offer directions, a free lunch, tea (always), or a place to stay. And they asked nothing in return.
To top it all off; I did manage to find plenty of pretty spectacular rugs, too.
Atlas Collections
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