THENEWYORKER,NOVEMBER29, 2021 35
for the victims. Was it wrong, then, that
I remained grateful for my own expe-
riences on the islands? I had been shaped
by those summers at Ru’a Fiola. They
had encouraged me to be self-sufficient.
I wondered whether my children—with
their phones, and my ability to digitally
track them—would ever feel as free as
I did, or whether they should. In Mo-
rocco, I was being tracked, yet I was
nonetheless enjoying prelapsarian sen-
sations of daring and solitude. It was a
strange gift to have nothing to think
about but where to take my next step.
I
walked into a gully at the edge of a
vast plain that abutted a string of
hills. In the middle of the plain, thin
columns of sandy-colored rock rose to
a bulbous overhang. The outcrop looked
uncannily like a group of elephants
whose trunks were hanging down. The
formation was bewitching; I couldn’t
stop staring at it. The curves of the el-
ephants’ heads were as clean and smooth
as a Barbara Hepworth sculpture.
This was the spot indicated on my
map for my camp that night. When I
arrived, I discovered that there was no
cache of water or firewood, which wor-
ried me a little. I had only a litre of water
remaining in my pack, and no wood.
But there was a dirt road nearby, and, I
concluded, someone would surely drive
over with supplies. It didn’t seem like
Asher to break an agreement, and Black
Tomato wasn’t about to let a client die
of thirst.
In any event, I had made good time:
it was barely 3 p.m. There were four re-
maining hours of daylight in which I
could set up camp and explore my sur-
roundings. If the water and the wood
arrived, I’d make a meal on a fire. If not,
I’d have more Kendal Mint Cake, and
some energy bars.
All day, the clouds had been turning
from wispy white to gray. It was a night
for the tarp. I was just getting the ropes
tied when Imerhane appeared from the
direction of the road, with a box of wood
and water, and some extra food pouches.
We exchanged salaams, and agreed that
it might rain. Then he left. Watching
him walk out of sight, I felt a pang.
Imerhane was such a cheerful man—it
would have been fun to sit and get to
know him a little better.
I decided to make my meal early, so
that I’d have enough time to enjoy the
sunset, and then get a good night’s sleep.
I was tired, and I needed to be alert the
next day. My G.P.S. had run through
one set of batteries and would likely
need my last remaining pair the follow-
ing morning. It was possible that I’d
have to navigate the final miles of my
journey using my map and compass
alone. Having looked at the route, I felt
reasonably comfortable with the idea
of losing my electronic guide. The last
section of my trek appeared to follow a
dry riverbed. All I had to do was keep
walking west. Still, I was liable to make
a stupid mistake if I was exhausted.
The main part of my meal—“Veg
Chilli and Rice”—was surprisingly ed-
ible, and the only thing missing from
the sunset was a cinematographer: the
whole plain glowed red. The view made
me ecstatic but also a little blue, because
there was nobody to share it with. I fell
asleep in no time, waking only to the
sound of rain on my tarpaulin, and a
clap of thunder at around 11 p.m. As
the eye of the storm grew closer, light-
ning illuminated the plain, and the rain-
drops grew heavier. I wondered for a
few anxious minutes how much rain
would have to fall to send a flash flood
down the gully I was in. My conclu-
sion: a hell of a lot. I went back to sleep.
It was still dark when I woke. I was
dry, and so was my firewood, but—
with a lack of foresight for which I
cursed myself—I had left my tinder
exposed to the rainstorm. To start my
breakfast fire, I resorted to a cheat that
Asher had shown me: using distressed
cotton wool and lip salve, I made an
accelerant. The blaze started instantly,
as if I were using a gas cooker. I was
pleased, but it made me consider how
contrived the rules of this experiment
were. If I was in possession of exactly
the right items to start a fire, I might
as well have brought a stove. Yet, had
I not accepted Asher’s terms, I would
not have mastered any new skills. Oddly,
the expedition’s most artificial bound-
aries helped generate its most satisfy-
ing moments.
O
n the second day’s walk, the views
were even more arresting, and I
stopped frequently to take pictures.
The sun was also brighter, and the tem-
perature soon reached a hundred de-
grees, making the hike commensurately
“I don’t know about a playdate. Why don’t we just meet
up for some juice boxes and see how it goes?”
• •
