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High Atlas Needle and Thread.

Mubarak took us up the long winding trail above the Kasbah to the closest village called Ammand. Breathtaking in everyway, the splendor of white on white is a freshness that penetrates the dullest of senses. White cherry blossoms in the green valley, practically holds hands with a snow capped Mt. Toubkal at 13,655 ft. The sky is beyond blue. The call to prayer bounces off the nearby mountains as the runoff rushes full on in a waterfall down to the valley below.

Robinhood, a Berber man with a sense of humor and selling techniques of an east coast car salesman, tries to usher us into his shop on the side of a dirt road. “My name is Robinhood No. 2. I take from the rich and give to the poor. If you don’t want to part with your money, ok no problem, we stay friends anyway. No couscous for me today. No money, no honey, no chiken curry, but if you like to buy something from my shop and support the village I will be very happy and my family will be too.”

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