After leaving Essaouira, I continued my journey across Morocco, determined to discover even more of the country’s wildlife. My next destination was the High Atlas, where I hoped to see animals that survive in some of the harshest conditions on the continent. The mountains rose in front of me like a stone wall, and the air grew colder with every kilometer.

My guide, Youssef, told me that the Atlas is home to the Barbary macaque, one of the few monkeys that live in cold climates. When we finally spotted a troop sitting on a rocky ledge, I was surprised by their thick fur and their calm confidence. One of them watched me with curious eyes, as if deciding whether I was interesting enough to approach. Youssef whispered that these macaques have a strong social bond and often share food during winter, a behavior that helps them survive the freezing nights.

As we climbed higher, we saw a shadow circling above us. It was a bearded vulture, also known as the lammergeier, a bird famous for its unusual diet. Instead of hunting live animals, it prefers bones, which it drops from great heights onto rocks to break them open. Youssef called it the “sky butcher”, a nickname that felt both dramatic and strangely fitting. Watching it glide with its enormous wingspan was one of the most majestic sights of my trip.

From the mountains, I traveled south toward the Sahara. The landscape changed quickly — forests disappeared, replaced by endless plains of sand and stone. In the desert, I hoped to see the fennec fox, a tiny creature with oversized ears that act like natural air‑conditioners. One evening, just before sunset, I finally spotted one. It moved with silent steps, its fur glowing orange in the fading light. When it noticed me, it froze for a moment, then vanished behind a dune with astonishing speed. It felt like watching a ghost made of sand.

The desert also introduced me to the dromedary camel, an animal perfectly adapted to life in extreme heat. My camel, whom the handler jokingly called “Professor Sandstorm,” had a personality of his own. He walked with a slow, deliberate rhythm, occasionally turning his head to give me a look that clearly said: “You’re lucky I’m carrying you.” Camels can survive for days without water, thanks to their fat‑filled humps, which act as energy reserves. They also have long eyelashes and closing nostrils to protect them from sandstorms — features I deeply appreciated when the wind suddenly picked up.

After several days in the Sahara, I reached an oasis — a green miracle in the middle of nothingness. Date palms cast long shadows over small pools of water, and the air smelled of mint and dust. Here, I learned about the desert hedgehog, a tiny nocturnal creature with sharp spines and a surprisingly bold attitude. A local boy told me that these hedgehogs sometimes stand their ground even against snakes, relying on their spines as armor. I didn’t see one in person, but the idea of such a small animal being so brave made me smile.

From the oasis, I continued toward the Atlantic coast. The ocean breeze felt like a blessing after the desert heat. On the cliffs near Agadir, I encountered the Northern bald ibis, one of the world’s most endangered birds. With its bare red face and glossy black feathers, it looked like a creature from another era. Conservationists here work tirelessly to protect the remaining population, and seeing one fly overhead felt like witnessing a living treasure.

But the coast had one more surprise for me. Early one morning, I joined a group of fishermen who told me about the Mediterranean monk seal, a rare marine mammal that occasionally appears along Morocco’s shores. We didn’t see one that day, but we did spot a group of bottlenose dolphins playing in the waves. They leapt out of the water with joyful energy, as if performing just for us. One fisherman laughed and said, “They are the ocean’s comedians.”

As the sun set over the Atlantic, I realized how incredibly diverse Morocco is. From icy mountains to burning deserts, from hidden oases to wild coastlines, every region holds animals that have adapted perfectly to their environments. Each species carries its own story of survival, shaped by wind, sand, water, and time.

And I knew my journey wasn’t over yet.