A storm in the Atlas in the summer used to be the norm. In the last few years, they have been lessening as climate change takes hold and the mountains were thirsty. This year has been fantastic for rain and the community has collectively relaxed as the walnut trees bloom green in the valley.

Amazigh (Berber) party

I had been asked up to a zarda on my neighbour’s rooftop with all the women and children. A zarda is a party with food and the occasion was the end of term for all the kids. Everyone climbed the stairs with plates of cakes and goodies.

As we were waiting for the tea, the rain started. Nature showed off for us as the sun shone a rainbow through the droplets. As official photographer, I took photos of everyone.

The thunder boomed and the lightning flashed and then the storm in the Atlas started to get serious. Rain hammered down and hailstones with it. Of course, the little ones (and me) scooped them up and popped them in their mouths. ‘Polo, polo,’ they yelled – a polo is an ice lolly.

The storm in the Atlas is winning

By now we were all soaked through with dashing in and out of the shelter to look down to the village.

Then, there was an ominous roar. A rush of brown water cascaded beneath us as the oued (the dry river bed) flooded and filled.

‘Alice, Alice your keys, your car!’ Miriam and her brother Hassan yelled. I ran down the stairs as fast as I could with horrible images of Toyota Yaris being swept down the valley. She is parked up and away from the wadi but the floods were huge. Hassan sprang off like a superhero in wellies.

I waited anxiously, then news came. ‘It was taken.’ My heart sank. I can’t really afford a new car and I love Toyota Yaris. Then as my face fell, all was explained – ‘Hassan took it to safety higher up.’  Relief!

All hail!

The rain pelted on and we rushed between houses and terraces for the best view. My house had flooded because I had left the windows open when I went to the party. There were hailstones on my cushions which was something I never thought I’d see in Morocco.

Two changes of clothes later, we all convened back upstairs for our party. What a feast: chocolate cake, plum and custard tart, savoury mini pastries and traditional cookies. The girls proved they are not too cool for school even though they are late teenagers and early twenties by smearing each other’s faces in the chocolate and screaming.

Blue eyes, baby’s got …

I played with our newest baby who is fascinated by my blue eyes and Scottish complexion and chatted to Ito.

‘I am so grateful to Hassan for saving my car,’ I said. ‘Men are a good thing.’

‘Yes,’ chuckled Ito, ‘and THAT is why you should get married!’

Amazigh women always get the last word!

If you enjoyed a storm in the Atlas, check out my books or my podcast. There are more photos of my life in Morocco up on Instagram and my YouTube channel.