ATLAS ASSES

My dear ladies and occasional gentleman back to Morrocco with ATLAS ASSES.

A short walk before lunch,  suggested our host in the ATLAS MOUNTAINS, just down to the village and a little stroll in the splendor of the snow-topped mountains.

Several of us set off down the steep hill and met this handsome chap as we entered the village.

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The local ladies sat in the shade tried to control their chuckles at the STUPID TOURISTS walking past, out in the mid-day sun.

After 30 minutes of navigating, GULLIES, traversing STREAMS climbing over BOULDERS our friendly guide told us that the way ahead was blocked with a river of water. The farmers are allowed to irrigate their land with the snow melted water according to a time-table! Either the FARMER or the GUIDE had erred!

Back we climbed the way we had climbed down and attempted another route. 20 minutes later this to was blocked by water. A mixed group of MIDDLE-AGED  people clinging to the side of the mountain set the dear boy guide panicking a little and he quickly suggested we climb up a steep bank, and through some barbed wire in order to avoid it.

My dear friend Veronica under the illusion she is like a YOUNG GAZELLE scrambled up behind a fellow climber and there was a pivotal moment when half of her was through the hole but the rest of her (dare ASS ay  the heavier end) wasn’t!

With temperatures of 29c I decided to join the men and brave the water, oh what fun we had!

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After a further 20 minutes and another blocked track, I decided I’d had enough and would make my own way back.

When Veronica arrived sometime after me, she resembled an EXTREMELY CROSS GIANT TOMATO!

XXXXXXX! XXXXXXXXXXX! XX! XXXXXXX! XXXXX!

I’m afraid I’ve had to censor what she said.

Yours Tiredly

Celia

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