ON THE SHOULDERS OF ATLAS

In late October I was sipping my coffee and admiring the views of sun-baked mountains, twisty roads and indigo-blue sky at the top of the Tizi n’Test pass in the High Atlas Mountains. My reverie was broken by a bleep of my phone and a message from home: “It’s cold and rainy here so we’re having a picnic in the living room.”

I thought better than telling them that I was a bit hot in just my t-shirt. I also failed to mention that I’d ju st bought new sunglasses as I’d lost yet another pair, an d t h e wall-to-wall sunshine demanded I get some straight away. As much as you love your family, sometimes it’s b e st to be economical with the truth, right? “Sounds lovely, I’m having a great ride” I replied.

But between me and you, I could have written endless paragraphs about how I’d started my day with a swim in the hotel pool, ridden some fantastic twisty mountain roads, stuffed my face with a delicious lunch and was now rewarding myself for my hard work with a coffee in the sun. I could also have mentioned the kids by