The honey colored beaches of Morocco’s Atlantic coast stretch out, scalloping around rock promontories, offering seemingly endless miles to nowhere.

The only way to see them is by foot, by boat, by donkey, or by camel. Camel is the transportation of choice in these parts and nothing sounded better to me than the contrast of a camel, ship of the desert on sand, flanked by an endless ocean.We packed up our camels from “Le Kaouki,” a sweet whitewashed, blue-shuttered respite that overlooks the village of  Sidi Kaouki. From here, we could head out well-fed on kefta and homemade bread.  Well provisioned, we had collected our basics from the locals. Eggs. (On the back of a camel?) Vegetables. Bread. A tagine. A gas burner. Salt. Oil.  A few beers (Moroccan Especiale!)  The idea was to get fresh fish from fishermen along the way. A dinner of grilled Dorade was in our future, as well as a tagine for the catch of the day.