There are trips you take to see a place, and there are trips that quietly rearrange the way you look at the world. Meeting people who live a different lifestyle and could teach me a thing or two, is my main reason to travel. This nomad trekking in Morocco — walking through the Southern anti-Atlas around Jbel Saghro, staying with nomadic families, guided by someone who grew up living this life — firmly belongs to that category.
I joined a three-day trekking trip organized by Morocco Green Tours, and while the distances weren’t extreme, the experience itself went deep. Deep into remote landscapes, deep into conversations about survival and change, and deep into the complicated reality of nomadic life in a time of a climate crisis.
This wasn’t a “look how different these people are” kind of tour, that is often offered. We were welcomed like family, and that makes a big difference.
First night: a stone house & family visit

The trek began not with dramatic peaks or sweeping valleys, but with a family home.
The first stop was at the house of my guide’s family, who welcomed us not just as clients, but as guests. We slept in a stone dome the guide Hammou built himself — a solid, round structure made from local stone, designed to hold warmth during freezing desert nights. It was simple, beautiful, and deeply practical.
Hammou’s dream is to build more of these domes.
They would serve two purposes:
- Shelter for nomads during cold nights when tents are no longer enough
- Accommodation for trekkers, providing income that flows directly back into the local community
This is what sustainable tourism looks like in real life — not glossy eco-labels, but ideas rooted in necessity, resilience, and dignity. Hammou grew up as a nomad himself. He didn’t study this lifestyle in books or inherit it as a “cultural performance.” He lived it. And that makes all the difference.
Story: On one of our hikes he pointed in the direction of a mountain. “Behind that mountain is a cave, that’s where I was born.” It was during a big storm and his mom took shelter from the rain. And that’s when baby Hammou decided to show up. They lived in this cave for the first 12 days of his life, while they waited out the storm. A true nomad story about resilliance and adoptivity. His mother provided him with a safe space that nature provided.
The problem with many “authentic” tours
Let’s address the uncomfortable truth.
There are tours — in Morocco and elsewhere — that treat traditional communities like exhibits. You walk in, take photos, observe quietly, and leave with a story about what an amazing “authentic” experience you’ve had on your trip. In Morocco tourcompanies LOVE this buzzword. All their tours all the same, but they are oh so authentic.
But are they?
These nomad trekkings made me feel uncomfortable. Wasn’t it wrong to visit people who simply live a different lifestyle, and see how they live? Like their lifestyle is entertainment or even something we can joke about. Something that belongs in a history museum, not in the open air.
It can feel like visiting a zoo. You’re not interacting; you’re observing. The people aren’t participants — they’re objects of curiosity. Their lives become entertainment.
That’s not what happened here. With Morocco Green Tours, interaction and education are the point. Hospitality is real. We are welcomed by these families, because I travelled with a valued friend. Hammou knows everybody personally, helps them develop their land and helps the community as a whole. The families don’t stop their lives when we come by and put on a show for us.
We’ve walked up to one overnight stop, where we set up a tent and made our own food. We didn’t meet the family until the next morning. The father of the house was away and only the mother and her daughters were home. Because we didn’t want to make them feel uncomfortable by visiting in the dark, we kept our distance and only popped in after Hammou had asked them if we were welcome the next morning.

Although we were welcomed in for tea & a short weaving lesson, they didn’t rearrange their day for us. While on many other tours, meetings are set up beforehand and they make a show out of cooking together or making music. Although Moroccans love to cook and play music, it’s such a picture perfect setup, that it’s actually far from authentic.
Walking in their shoes changes your perspective
This trek wasn’t just about meeting people. It was about feeling the geography.
Over three days, we walked:
- Day 1: ~7 km
- Day 2: ~12 km, including a lunch stop and overnight stays with two different families, plus a 400-meter incline to reach our sleeping spot
- Day 3: ~7 km back
On paper, this sounds manageable — and it is, if you’re reasonably fit and healthy. But walking here teaches you something essential: distance means something different when infrastructure is scarce. I had all day to walk these distances, not in a rush to get anywhere in a set timeframe.

But when you live here, a trip to town for supplies isn’t a casual errand anymore. It can mean hours of walking, relying on someone with a scooter or car, or simply going without. People live off what they can grow, trade, or receive from others. Every object, every resource, has weight. You begin to understand how effort shapes daily life. And what it’s like to live like a nomad, packing up all your belongings and moving elsewhere. A 3 day nomad trekking is just a sneakpeek into a nomadic lifestyle. Especially when you’re an experienced hiker. If you really want to feel like a nomad, go for a longer trail, like 7, 14 or even 21 days.
Desertification and having to settle down
Nomadic life in Morocco is changing — not because people want it to, but because the land is forcing it. A storm like the one Hammou was born in, hasn’t happened for many many years. Desertification has dried the land, making it harder and harder to grow anything in these regions. Water sources are drying up. Wild grazing land can no longer sustain herds year-round. As a result, many nomadic families have settled in one place.
They’ve sold their stock to settle down.
They’ve built stone houses for better shelter.
They’ve installed watering systems to grow small gardens and trees.
They’ve adapted.
But adaptation doesn’t mean ease.
Many people we spoke to openly said they struggle with this way of life. They miss the freedom of moving with the seasons. The identity of being nomadic is deeply tied to movement, and being forced to stay still feels like a loss.
At the same time, there is a flip side.
The upside of staying in one place: education
One of the most powerful changes settlement has brought is education.
Traditionally, education among nomads was informal and practical. Parents taught their children:
- How to care for goats
- How to cook over a fire
- How to read the land and weather
- How to live with nature
These are invaluable skills and for a long time, all a nomad would need. But nobody learns to read. Nobody learns math. Nobody learns how to devlop a long term garden. Nobody learns to built anything for the future, as they were always on the move. In this changing world, the relevance of different skills is changing with it.
So as an initiative for the community, they have been able to build tent schools. Young children can learn to read and write. Some even continue their education in cities after finishing nomad school, choosing paths that lead to different professions.
In a time of climate change, having options matters. Education gives children the ability to support their families in new ways — by designing better irrigation systems, navigating bureaucracy, or helping the next generation adapt more smoothly.
This could, however, mean that nomadic life as it once existed, will slowly disappear. Which is quite a shame and something that older nomads struggle with, but that younger generations might not see as such a loss. For them, there are more choices now. If they remain a nomad, it’s out of their own choice, and not because they grew up sheltered from the rest of the country, without learning the same skills.
Tourism as a tool, when done right
So should you book a nomad trekking in Morocco? Tourism brings money into these communities — money they need to buy supplies they can no longer grow themselves. But intention matters.
Some tour companies offer shallow experiences that reduce people to backdrops. Others, like Morocco Green Tours, work with communities rather than around them.
- They hire local guides who were nomads themselves.
- They design routes that allow meaningful interaction.
- They prioritize education, respect, and long-term benefit.
This isn’t charity. It’s collaboration.
A real trekking with the last nomads in Morocco
For travelers who truly want to deep dive into nomadic life, Morocco Green Tours offers something exceptional: trekking with nomads during their annual transhumance. Although more nomads shift to steady homebases, some will stick to their nomadic lifestyle for as long as possible. While the seasons change, they still trek the land to places with more resources. And you can join.
This experience happens twice a year and allows you to walk alongside Amazigh (Berber) nomad families of the Ait Atta tribe. You camp together, share meals, and experience the rhythm of migration. You help dismantle tents at dawn. You walk with herds, camels, and mules.
It’s a journey that lasts over a week, crossing the High Atlas Mountains across stunning landscapes. You’ll face their challenges (and probably many more, as they’ve been living like this for a long time and are way better adjusted) but also feel the joy and freedom they feel. It’s an unique opportunity to join a group of people that has lived a different lifestyle for centuries, and could definitely teach you a thing or two.



Ethical tourism is a choice
Travel is never neutral. Where you go, who you go with, and how you engage all have consequences. You can choose experiences that consume culture, or ones that support them.
If you’re considering trekking in Morocco, ask questions. Look for companies that:
- Work with local guides who have lived the culture
- Ensure communities benefit directly
- Prioritize education and interaction over spectacle
Morocco Green Tours does exactly that.
They design eco-friendly trekking holidays across the Atlas Mountains, Jbel Saghro, the Sahara, and beyond — from easy walks to challenging summits. Their guides are certified, multilingual, and deeply connected to the land and people. And most importantly: they don’t treat nomadic life as entertainment. I really didn’t even consider doing a trail like this with any other company, as it never felt right. But I’m super happy with the experience I’ve had with Morocco Green Tours!
I came to Morocco for the landscapes. I left with a deeper understanding of resilience, loss, adaptation, and connection.
This trek reminded me that travel, at its best, isn’t about collecting experiences, it’s about learning from the people you meet along the way. It’s about walking with people, not past them. Listening more than looking. And choosing curiosity over consumption.
If you’re going to step into someone else’s world, do it gently. Do it ethically. And do it with people who know the path — because they’ve walked it their whole lives.





Such a heartfelt read — really appreciated how you highlighted respectful, community-centered trekking rather than superficial tourism. 🙌 Do you have tips on how to choose ethical local guides or pack sustainably for these journeys? Also curious about safety and best seasons to trek in Morocco’s remote regions like Jbel Saghro.
Thank you so much for the lovely reply! It’s definitely always a bit tricky to find really ethical guides, but what usually helps is asking questions first. Like in Morocco many say “authentic” and “sustainable” but once you ask how, you notice that they don’t actually know what the buzzwords mean. Hassan from Morocco Green Travel could really explain to me what they are doing. He linked me with the guide, which just happened to be the most perfect match. For packing sustainably it’s important to pack only essentials. We also took a first aid kit just in case we could help the locals. And we did patch up a little kids foot as he had cut it badly. You can always bring some items they might need, ask the company which items are most needed. For remote hikes like these, I always recommend a local guide who knows the way. We didn’t follow a trail, we just crossed mountains and riverbanks and my maps apps didn’t work at all. So definitely do not do a trail like this on your own! Bring powerbanks for your phone & put it in airplane mode when you don’t use it. An extra light and batteries, or whatever you can bring that’s solar powered. And good shoes! Other than that, I did 100% count on my guide to keep me safe and for them to tell me if I had to bring other items for safety.