Todra Gorge narrows to a corridor barely ten metres wide, with limestone walls climbing sheer for 160 metres on either side. The most dramatic stretch runs about 600 metres just north of the town of Tinghir, where a paved road and a shallow stream share the canyon floor and the sky shrinks to a bright ribbon overhead. Through the day the rock shifts through rust, copper and gold, and in the last light the upper walls seem lit from within. Those same smooth faces made Todra one of the great climbing grounds in Africa: more than 450 bolted lines thread the rock here, many of them gentle enough for a first day out. The river that cut all of this is the Todgha, and it still runs along the gorge floor, cold and clear in the middle of a desert.
Walking into the narrows is a quiet lesson in scale. Footsteps echo off the stone, Berber traders hang carpets along the low river wall, and Bonelli's eagles ride the updrafts between the cliffs. High Atlas snowmelt swells the stream each spring, and children cross it on stepping stones while shepherds rest in the shade. There is a spring on the gorge floor that local custom treats differently from every other drop of water in the valley. Downstream the canyon widens into the palm groves of Tinghir, a green corridor of date palms and mud-brick villages nearly thirty kilometres long. Spring and autumn are the kindest seasons; summer afternoons are hot even in shadow. Come at first light or toward sunset, when the buses have gone and the walls burn their deepest red.