The land changes dramatically, going east from Taza. It becomes barren, infertile, almost a desert. As I was hiking towards Guercif these past three days, a bleak plain with the distant, snow covered Atlas mountains lay to my right, and the Plaine du Jel, equally barren, and the Rif Mountains lay to my left. There is almost no agriculture here, save a few sparse olive groves.
The people, however, have been for the most part warm and friendly. Several people pull off the road every day to offer a ride, to help me with money, or simply to offer encouragement. They all understand what the pilgrimage is about, and they all believe God's peace is universal.
I'm in another inexpensive hotel in Guercif, resting up for the week long trek to Nador and Melilla. It's a dry, dusty, and very hospitable town. I was cordially welcomed by several of its citzens.
Many thanks to everyone for their hospitality!
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