On our drive towards Marrakech we passed through the High Atlas Mountains
. The views were stunning, looking across onto rocky, golden yellow, barren mountains. As we drove further on the land changed into red sandstone with sparse greenery. At this point of our journey along the winding roads, the weather began to change and we drove through drizzle, watching storm clouds approaching and the mountains disappearing into the mist.
Dad and I had our first holiday argument, not bad considering how much time we have spent together. We both managed to irritate each other and since neither of us was feeling tolerant today, Dad snapped at me and I stormed off down a mountain. I didn't return until hunger set-in, by this point Dad was trying to make up, but I was so annoyed with him that I ignored him for the rest of the journey. We are friends again now.
We were slightly delayed leaving our campsite this morning, because I had a miscommunication with the boy at the campsite about filling my bottles with drinking water. He thought I wanted to throw the bottles away, so took them off me and put them in the bin. I thought he was filling them for me, so was hanging around. He probably thought this was a bit strange; especially considering Mum and Dad had driven out of the campsite at this point. So he invited me into his house/restaurant and joked that I had to live here now, because my parents had left me behind. I went inside thinking I would get my water bottles back full of water, but instead he wanted me to write down my home address and email, I told him I didn't have either. In the end he finally understood what I wanted and I escaped with my empty water bottles and filled them up from a tap, with water that I doubt was drinkable.