You can read Part 1 of Campervan Culture: Morocco [Here]
I awoke quite early the next morning with thoughts of the days hustle and bustle. There was no chance of getting back to sleep so I decided to get up, put some tea on and see what was going on around the campsite. It had obviously been quite cold over night. The water in the stream that runs along the boundary of the campsite was pouring steamy vapour amidst the shafts of bright sunlight that filtered through the foliage of the tree canopy. Our rendevous with our guide for the day wasn't until 10am so after a bit of tidying up around our camp we had plenty of time left for multiple cups of tea and coffee as well as a substantial breakfast. At the meeting point we found the rest of the people we would be sharing the tour with; a couple from Germany traveling with their teenage son and another German couple enjoying their retirement. The taxi arrived and we were greeted by our guide; a towering stature of a man. He must have been at least 6’ 6” and had more ear hair than I think I’ve ever seen on a single person before.