Two weeks in Morocco

Morocco

 

 Having wanted to visit Morocco for many years I finally took the chance in July of 2004 when I found a 14 night package tour to Agadir with Airtours. Scouring the web for holidays I was recommended to use www.mytravel.com and found exactly what I wanted for £220 per person. This was it; my chance to return to North Africa (I’d already spent holidays exploring Egypt and enduring Tunisia). The Eastern Mediterranean had always been my bag with it’s history, mysterious exotic feel, Islamic architecture, guaranteed heat and deserts. Well Morocco was going to provide all of those at the opposite end of the Med plus the Atlas mountains. Trekking in the Atlas was another adventure I had long thought of but on this trip I realised I wasn’t going to have the time to do the country justice, trek the mountains and enjoy a relaxing holiday. Furthermore, I’m not sure Deb would have been too keen on being dragged up mountains at the height of a North African summer so trekking was always likely to have to wait until another time.

 

What follows is my account of this brief fortnight in Morocco.

 

Agadir – Monday 5th July

 

After a very comfortable (yes it’s true) short flight we touched down at Agadir airport at about 1.30am. The air stewardess helpfully told us that the local time was 4.30am completely throwing us as we were sure they were only an hour ahead of us. Hell that meant absolutely no sleep or a really late start and half the first day wasted! Well luckily passport control in Morocco Is the slowest I have ever known. So as we stood there we noticed a clock on the wall telling us it was really only 2.30am, still time for some kip at the hotel. The Temperature was about 23C.

 

Our bags were waiting for us at the carousel and the tour guides met us and directed us to our bus. Moroccans wrestled with us, trying to grab our bags and lift them 12” into the bus luggage compartment before demanding payment. How they earn anything like this I’ll never know because it’s impossible to get Moroccan Dirhams outside the country so no one had money to pay them with anyway! Still from then on it was a swift 20 minute or so ride past dusty barren looking building sites and apartment complexes commentated on by Kamal, the tour guide before we reached our destination. Kamal was quite helpful really in his own laconic way explaining about the water (with gas or without gas, mineral or purified), the money (200, 100, 50 and 20 dh notes, 10, 5, 1, ½, dh coins and 50, 10 and 5 cent coins) and the meaning of the words lit up on the hill overlooking Agadir just below the Kasbah (God, Nation, King). All instantly forgettable at 3.00am in the morning.

 

We enjoyed the uniquie experience of being in the first hotel drop off and were pleasantly surprised to see the welcoming colourful entrance to the Residence Yasmina, chosen because Lonely Planet said it was the best in its range. Check in was swift and the porter grabbed our carelessly discarded luggage before we could stop him (still had no change to tip with!) and led us to our room. Just as LP describes it the rooms are great, really nice roomy comfortable lounge with Sky TV (all in Arabic or French except for CNN the worlds most boring TV channel), well equipped kitchen even if all the fuses did blow whenever you plugged in the stove! Bathroom fine with Bidet for washing your feet (Non Brits apparently have some other use for them though I can’t imagine what that would be) and a bedroom, dark, pokey, small with the world’s narrowest beds and hardest pillows (find a good position for your head really early on because they set like concrete and you’re stuck like that for the rest of the night). I spent as little time in there as possible (sorry Deb). Went to sleep exited about tomorrow.

 

Of course tomorrow is still today! So woke at a reasonable time and started to orientate ourselves. We had a balcony overlooking the tennis courts (just as LP suggested) nice little garden beside the pool, in fact there are two small pools, one for kids and a deeper one on a higher balcony which the kids prefer. But it was cloudy. What’s this! North Africa in July and clouds? Who do I complain to? Well don’t panic, LP warned of sea mists in summer and there were several days which started off cloudy but this soon burnt off and temperatures rose to Melanoma heights by around 10.00 or 11.00 each day.

 

I set off in search of Dirhams, sporting the latest trendy half length shorts and Reebok trainers trying not to look like a tourist. Got to the top of the road and was accosted by last nights Porter. “Hello my friend, you remember me?” well yes I did and was quite pleased because here was a chance to be directed to a bank. Off we went, up a bit, right a bit left a bit along and down, up some stairs around a corner and lo there was a bank. But just as I went in that sinking feeling hit as he said “Only today there is desert people market I show you next” Muggins had found his first ‘guide’. Well the disorganised efficiency of the bank eventually provided me with what I wanted. £50 Stirling became 800dh plus a tiny bit of change. My guide then led me to the spice shop owned by a ‘Blue Man’ after a couple of salaams and hand shakes I managed to tear myself away but then was left with a dilemma; was it up a bit, right a bit left a bit along and down or down along then up and right a bit? My guide obviously felt sorry for me as he saw me set off in the wrong direction and called me back it turned out I just turned left, walked straight along and our hotel was there. Simple.

 

Breakfast was enjoyed by Deb and I at a nearby café. Fresh bread, butter cheese, honey and jam with a good cup of coffee for two for about 20dh (about £1.21) Bargain.

The rest of that day was spent strolling along the beach for about 100 miles to some fantastic sand dunes away from the thronged hordes of Moroccan sun worshipers, dodging the small plastic balls they seem to love hitting at one another as hard as possible. The beach was great, long, clean, hot but very full and the sea was lovely. Back at base we fancied a dip in the pool but this had quickly filled up with young Moroccan kids who from then on never left it but there was always a sun-lounger available so no real complaints. Yasmina was good, very central and not at all expensive but if you don’t like kids, don’t go there. Maybe it was just the Moroccan summer holidays but there was constant noise all day and you couldn’t enjoy a peaceful swim in the pool.

 

That night we ate out. Walked down passed a man who offered us sweet coated peanuts, “just try, free”. There are hundreds of places to eat and they all like their music, LOUD. We chose one and before we ordered, the volume went up. Luckily however, rather than having to move the waiter told us that everything we ordered was unavailable including the beer so we went elsewhere. Unluckily we tried the Moroccan equivalent of a Mexican restaurant. Not recommended, but the beer was nice. Time for bed.

 

Agadir – Tuesday 6th July

 

We made our own breakfast with bread jam and cheese from the local supermarket ‘Sawma’ and headed for the beech. Hire of a padded sun lounger at the Beach Oasis was 10dh each with waiter service of drinks and food. Of course as is my usual practice in hot countries, we arrived at about 11.00, stay in the sun during the hottest part of the day and at about 3.00 decide to head for the shade. The tan has started coming along nicely though Debs nuclear resistant suntan lotion seems to be working very efficiently too.

Dinner this night was on the seafront. We walked down passed a man who offered us sweet coated peanuts, “just try, free”. Tonight was our first (of many) Tajine (or is it Tagine?) I can’t complain I had a huge portion of lamb Tagine with carrots and potatoes. As usual Deb drew the short straw and found that the chicken and lemon Tagine includes no vegetables other than olives. Now the Moroccans love their olives. You get them before every meal along with bread and often some other item, all free gratis. Lovely. But there are only so many olives a Welsh person can eat and I reached my limit sometime within the first week whereas Deb, to be honest soldiered on right to the end. It was while eating here that we witnessed the Moroccan parking assistants at their best as a fool tried to fit a medium sized car into a space smaller than a small sized car, he thought he’d fooled the exasperated parking assistant (for want of a better phrase) by driving off a few yards, then reversing up again when he thought no-one was looking and trying for himself. Parking assistant reappeared. There was lots of car thumping and shouting before someone else moved a car and he got in. Better than street theatre I promise you.

Just before we ate I had dragged Deb miles away on a fruitless quest to find the bus station. Deb, not knowing what I had in store (though to be fair neither did I!) was wearing a lovely pair of sandals which produced an even lovelier blister on her foot which she would then have to endure for the rest of the week.

 

Agadir – Wednesday7th July

 

Mostly sunbathing on this day though this may also have been the dark day when Deb discovered Uniprix; a big shop full of tat (English term for gaudy rubbish) with prices on (everywhere else you have to guess and then haggle over the price). To be honest it did have some quality items, those curvy coloured animal hide lamp covers which cost a fortune back in Britain, some really nice bowls and stuff carved from Thuja wood and Moroccan national team football shirts with Hadji emblazoned across the back (well ok beauty is in the eye etc…) Still this place gave a good idea of what you could expect to pay elsewhere. We WOULD be returning I was assured!

Nearby to our hotel was a large square called ‘Place de l’esperance’ and people had been working there to erect a large stage with speakers and barriers all around ever since we had arrived in Agadir. All became clear as we discovered that there was a music festival on over the next few days. Now we were particularly pleased about this for a couple of reasons, one being that the first night was this Wednesday so we might get a chance to hear some of the music and the second being that for the remaining festival we would be no where near Agadir as the speakers would have done a ‘Megadeath’ concert proud and we could hear them quite clearly from our hotel. Worrying!

Wednesday night we found the best restaurant in town, The Yacoub. It is on the road leading up to the bus station, Avenue du 29 Fevrier, and serves a 3 course meal for 55dh including Pastilla (very strange, filo pastry layered chicken pie covered in icing sugar – yes, sweet chicken pie – reminiscent of a chicken Korma I suppose) Tagine or couscous (very good indeed) and a huge pile of fresh fruit. They also do the best Harrira soup in all of Morocco (I can say that with conviction having only ever eaten it there and in one other restaurant) Superlatives aside though their Harrira is gastronomically perfect. The restaurant surroundings are lovely too even down to the guinea fowl sitting on a little water fountain.

The roads were unbelievably busy that night with traffic and people, the music festival was obviously a big crowd puller and we plunged through the throng to see what it was all about just in time to catch the end of a popular (presumably Moroccan) group beating out an infectious rhythm on their drums. The youths loved it and were dancing in the big square but when they finished we beat a retreat back to the room because we had a long day ahead of us.

 

Marrakesh – Thursday 8th July

 

I’ll begin with the grim reality of a Moroccan bus station. Ok, so bus stations are foul places the world over so it wouldn’t be fair to pick on the one at Agadir. To be fair it’s just a row of buildings on a filthy, hot, smelly street infested with flies and inhabited by generally unsavoury beings doing the absolute minimum to be of any help. Except the man who puts your bag on the bus of course. Now he desperately wants to help lift your bag that last 2 foot into the bus so he can demand 10dh baggage charge a charge which I never determined was official or just extortion.

 

Now hereby lies my first important piece of information. Always in Morocco travel by CTM and not by any of the other bus companies. We never managed to because CTM (God love em) only travel at the wrong time, too early or too late by quite a margin I think you’ll find, at least from Agadir they do. So we sat and waited until around 10.30am having pre booked our ticket with the bus company, Transport CHAHIR, based on the evidence of the wonderful picture of a modern, air-conditioned epitome of automotive construction shown to us the previous day. Well our bus ground to a halt outside company office, a bit late but not too bad, and sat there belching black diesel fumes for the next 15 minutes while we sat in its dilapidated interior, admiring the stained chairs, the velour coverings long worn smooth, and wondered where the seat springs had gone whilst admiring the slick of chewing gum pressed into the ashtrays. Eventually we set off, great to get a chance to see the countryside at last as the bus soon began to wind its way up into the Atlas mountains. Some fantastic views and oh! A donkey carrying stuff, what a novelty. To tell the truth the four hour journey was not bad at all, there’s plenty to see but when we stopped for a break beside a local market with still an our or so to go, someone shut the roof vent and it turned into the journey from hell. Hot, sweaty, smelly and very uncomfortable. We could not wait to get off that instrument of torture and Marrakesh never seemed to get any closer. It was not fun.

My next mistake was trying to judge the distance to our hotel by the LP map. It must have taken 45 minutes in the blazing heat with rucksacks on our backs to get there. It would have taken 2 minutes and cost 10dh in one of the plentiful petit taxis, but no, “it’s just round this next bend”.

Second piece of important information. Use a Petite Taxi whenever you can, they’re cheap and easy (but arrange the price beforehand).

So we arrived at the hotel I had pre-booked by fax. Hotel Gallia on Rue de la Recette, just off Rue de Bab Agnaou, is great, truly lovely inside with two peaceful, cool courtyards inhabited by birds and tortoises (watch where you walk!). It is sited on a quiet side street, just yards off a road leading straight to Djemaa el-fna. The room was air conditioned, spotlessly clean and cost 340dh per night and it had a double bed. Breakfast IS extra (not included at the price we paid contrary to what we were told) but well worth paying for anyway because it’s the best breakfast you’ll get in Morocco (probably). In all honesty there are several other hotels up that little narrow street and they all looked lovely from a quick glimpse into the reception area. You can’t go wrong in this area, and nothing would possess me to lodge in the Ville Nouvelle, not when there is so much atmosphere, culture, history and food within the old city.

 

After a brief rest and a reminder from Deb never to make her do a journey like that again we set off towards Djemaa el-fna for a bite to eat, enjoyed an excellent chicken Schwarma sandwich on the edge of what looked like a large car free carpark. This was the famous square but we decided not to venture in for a look yet as it didn’t look particularly interesting and temperatures were still high enough to fry eggs on the pavement. Instead we headed off in the direction of the Mellah and Bahia palace via Place des Ferblantiers.

 

Third piece of useful information, carry a compass with you when exploring the souks and narrow windy streets of Marrakesh. I had one and left it in the room everyday! But I’m convinced it would have been useful when orientating yourself using the Lonely Planet or Rough Guide book maps.

 

The Mellah was like a nice casual introduction to the souks. A ‘guide’ managed to attach himself to us and directed us straight to his friend/brother/cousin/fathers spice shop which was all very interesting but we had no inclination to buy spices of any kind so inevitably pointless. The whole place has atmosphere, in fact there were many times when there was a bit too much of the fragrant type of atmosphere, but well worth a look.

 

Somehow we managed to find our way to the Bahia Palace. The sights in Marrakesh are often not that obvious when you get there, the entrances tend to blend into the background and the same is true of the Bahaia Palace. Once inside however and the architecture and decoration, the peace and quiet and complete lack of crowds make this place ‘a must see’. As you move through the different rooms it just gets better and better, and at 10dh to get in a complete bargain.

 

 

That evening I stood on the roof top outside our room and listened to the Imams calling the faithful to prayer from the many minarets around the city, a sound that always thrills me as it just sounds exotic and warm foreign and far, far away from home, reminding me of some of the other Middle/near Eastern cities I have visited.

 

We decided to find a balcony restaurant overlooking the main square and chose the one above Hotel Ali, a backpacker’s hotel on Rue Moulay Ismael which provides a buffet meal which for about 55dh you can refill your plate as often as you like. Fantastic value for money and the food was good. Unfortunately the wind was blowing a light gale and we were actually cold up on the roof top but the view over Djemaa el-fna was good. Possibly from one of the more expensive balcony restaurants the view would be even better but you can’t beat this place for value for money.

 

Djemaa el-fna. What can I say? It was not what I expected, being basically a food and entertainment market, but atmosphere? The place is electric. The sounds and smells have to be experienced; you have to see the lights with the smoke from barbecued meat and steam from boiling pans of stuff drifting across the square to appreciate it. The food sellers just constantly hassle you to eat and we saw everything from fried fish to sheep’s heads, mountains of cooked snails (which stink) to small portions of God only knows what and dozens of fresh orange juice stalls. The whole place throbs to the sound of hypnotic drum beats (actually I’m sure Bad Manners took their theme tune from one of the groups pounding away there) though there was also a stage set up in one corner where acts were playing, unnecessarily boosted by huge speakers and amplifiers, we just steered away from them. Bear in mind that if you want to take a picture of anything you’ll have to pay five to ten Dirhams, e.g. for a photo of a waterseller. At one point I thought we were going to see an impromptu boxing match between two young teenagers but luckily I think it was all just an act. Another act seemed to consist of a man doing calculations in an old exercise book and I was never sure if the huge insect crawling on him was something to do with it too. There was no snake charmer though.

 

We moved off towards to North East corner of the square, navigating around the road works to get to an area where the healers and ‘Witch Doctors’ did their stuff, displaying dried herbs and lizards etc. Look, I could go on. Just go and see for yourselves!

We drifted away from the square and wandered up into the souk. Now I have been to the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul, the old bazaar of Sanliurfa in Eastern Turkey, the suuqs of Tunis and Jerusalem but never have I seen such an extensive all encompassing souk as the one in Marrakesh. Despite what the guide books say, yes the shopkeepers hassle you with “allo my friend”, “Bonjour”, “where you from”, “You English?”, “First time in Morocco?” etc, etc, etc, but they are not bad at all. Just treat it as fun, be polite and keep moving. It IS a shame that as soon as you look at a shop they start trying to show you stuff, all Arab or Turkish markets seem to be the same and it can put you off browsing, but don’t be put off; have a good look; you don’t have to buy anything. Amongst the colourful smelly or aromatic shops there are old doorways and little squares, it’s all about the experience not the shopping (or have I got that the wrong way around?).

My God, We did all that in half a day!

 

Marrakesh – Friday 9th July

 

Up bright and early for a breakfast of ‘pikelets’, pancakes and delicious bread with honey and jam all washed downs with loads of coffee in Gallia’s idyllic surroundings then off to find the Saadian tombs. Being a Geographer and map reader I confidently lost the pair of us within minutes and relied on Deb to find the way there. I blame the LP map myself! The tombs are well worth a detour to see and I guess first thing in the morning before the crowds and heat arrive would be best but we didn’t do ‘first thing’ in Morocco. Still, as usual this was worth far more than the 10dh entrance fee.

 

Afterwards, somehow we stumbled across some narrow streets containing an extensive rabbit warren of a shop which looked like we were entering someone’s home. They switched the lights on as we entered each room and off again as we left them and it all felt a bit surreal. As usual we were harried by people inviting us to look at the things we were already looking at so we scuttled away quickly.

 

Next we headed for the Stork infested Badii palace, a huge open area in the heart of the Medina with a terrace view over the city roofs and a sight of the Atlas mountains, hazy in the distance. Sadly its former grandeur can hardly be guessed at but the underground chambers at the far side are worth a look as are the sunken orange groves. It was very hot at midday.

 

We must have stopped for a break at some point but I don’t remember, our next port of call was the Museum of Marrakesh. At 30dh entry or 50dh to visit three places all next to one another we plumped for the 50dh option because we were feeling flush. The museum is another oasis of cool calm with walls covered in beautiful decorations though there are not many museum exhibits. The toilets alone are well worth a visit though!

 

Just around the corner is one of the ‘must see’ buildings of Marakesh, the Ali Ben Yousef Medersa. Again it is the architecture, peace, colour and decoration which sell the place but for us both to still be interested after all the things we had already seen it must have been good. A couple of the rooms had reconstructions of what they must have been like when inhabited but you can generally wander freely throughout.

 

The third of the three covered by our ticket was the Koubba Ba’adiyn, basically an ablutions fountain and apparently quite old and special. Not wishing to sound like a Philistine (though apparently the Philistines were quite a culturally advanced people) this was perhaps the least interesting of the sites we saw though Deb managed to get a great photo from it.

 

I then lead the way unerringly towards the bus station so we could check out the times and buy a ticket for our departure the next day. Along the way we met a very friendly gentleman who walked with us towards the station and we chatted away quite happily in Franco Welsh until we reached our destination. Of course five minutes later, at the bus station he re-appeared stating that he worked there and then proceeded to follow us around everywhere ‘guiding’ us to the correct windows for our tickets. Yes they ARE all after something, but then again they ARE all probably very poor. This was the point at which we realised that the cream of all bus companies, CTM has the worst timetable in the world. We wanted to leave around midday but they only left at 5.00pm which wouldn’t reach Ouarzazate until about 9.00, so we bought a ticket not wishing to risk another bus ride from hell. At least this time we got the 10dh taxi ride back towards the hotel rather than doing the long hot walk.

We had decide to take a Caleche ride around the city at some point and decided it was now or never as it was heading towards evening so we started to haggle with the drivers parked up along the Rue Moulay Ismael leading to the Djemaa el-fna. The guide book recommends you pay 15dh for a one way trip outside the Medina walls. We were bad hagglers. It cost us 50dh for a half hour trip but it was money well spent. This is a great way to see some of the sites including part of the walls and the entrance to the swish, La Mamounia hotel where the rich people go to sleep.

 

Before heading back to freshen up we had a look at the Koutoubia, the main mosque in these parts. Very nice, just a shame you can’t go in for a look.

 

That evening we experienced Djemaa el-fna again, you just have to! and ate at a different restaurant overlooking the square. Fantastic!

 

We had planned to take the bus to Ouarzazate the next day then hire a car from there to travel down the Draa valley but the hotel receptionist said they could arrange for someone to rent us a car from Ourzazate the next morning at the hotel so we agreed.

 

Ouarzazate – Saturday 10th July

 

A deal was struck with Aziza, the lady from Ste S. Car Ikhouane but I don’t recommend you do it. In the end the company was fine and the car got us from A to B but I should have checked the insurance documents but was never shown any, the car was a heap and they didn’t take credit cards. We spent most of the time worried that we had been badly ripped off and I have just discovered that none of the web addresses on the receipt actually exist!

Well we had a morning to fill before the car arrived so set off for a last wander around the Souk and Djemaa el-fna. Still unsure as to how much money we would need for the next few days we hesitated to buy anything in the Souk but at least we discovered that the snake charmers did exist. They only come out during the daytime. I’ve never seen a cat run so fast as the poor little bugger that someone threw near to the cobra. It zig-zagged off across the burning hot tarmac of the square like a thing possessed, and I don’t blame it! I paid for my photograph of a snake which apparently probably had it’s mouth sewn up, so how guilty do I feel? Meanwhile other ‘charmers’ irritatingly tried to drape completely harmless snakes around my neck though Deb defended me valiantly from the other side of the square.

 

We sadly took our leave of the Hotel Gallia and had to wait an hour and a half for the car and it’s Berber driver (Mohammed) to turn up but eventually we set off, excited at the prospect of seeing more of this fascinating country. The car stalled every time the clutch was pressed, it had no rear seatbelts and a cracked windscreen but still, Mohammed was friendly and we chatted away in French/English. We didn’t really need a driver and I guess that was an unnecessary expense but it was good to have someone to get us out of Marakesh as I didn’t much fancy driving in traffic on the wrong side of the road (I am British after all!). The road soon begins to wind up into the Atlas Mountains and the scenery becomes quite spectacular with mud built Berber villages clinging to the hillsides, masses of flowering plants alternating with barren stretches of dusty land and at every other bend locals trying to sell odd minerals. Impressions which stay in my mind include a football pitch clinging to a hillside at a crazy angle with not a blade of grass on it and the road passing along a knife edge ridge as we neared the top of the pass. Even in July we could see snow on one of the highest peaks and the air was noticeably cooler near the top. Even though our driver offered to stop at any time for photos, there often was no safe place to park with all the hairpin bends so regrettably we missed some potentially great pictures. We stopped for a Tagine at a pit stop and I’m convinced that marked the end of my wellbeing in Morocco! Still we bought some oranges to eat on the way.

 

Once down out of the mountains we carried on along a flat plain and at one point were stopped by a police check point who grilled Mohammad for 15 minutes on his paperwork. Worrying moments but they never bothered us, there is no love lost between the Moroccan police and the Berbers. Sadly, due to our late start we did not have time to detour to Ait Benhadou but in all honesty we were fed up with the journey by then and glad to get to Ouarzazate. We drove past the Egyptian city of the Ouarzazate film studios where they filmed The Mummy among other things but didn’t stop for a visit.

 

 

We said farewell to Mohammad after checking in to the hotel Amlal. A nice place, clean and friendly but, my God it was hot and had no air conditioning. We took an evening stroll and discovered that Ouarzazate used to be a one horse town, but I think they ate the horse. Whilst searching for somewhere to eat our decision was influenced by the sounds of chickens being slaughtered in one place so we headed back to the main street. We had a good dinner at the Café North, the waiter even wrote a really nice note on the receipt wishing us a good visit to Morroco and Ouarzazate but I guess he either wanted a big tip or fancied Deb. It was 32C at 9.30 that evening and I did not manage to sleep a wink.

 

Fourth piece of good advice, if it’s hot try and get a room with air con, hotels are generally very cheap anyway and that way you’ll get a decent nights sleep.

 

Zagora – Sunday 11th July

 

The same café provided a good breakfast next morning. There is not a lot to do in Ouarzazate but we were later told it’s the best place to do your souvenir haggling, I guess the lack of customers keeps the price down.

 

It was blisteringly hot at around 9.00 as we set out with me driving and stalling the car every 10 yards but luckily the town was so quiet I had no problems with traffic and we set off into the dry barren hills heading for Agdz.

 

 

Agdz itself is probably even less of a one horse town than Ouarzazate. Trying to find the Kasbah mentioned in the LP guide book we took a left at the town square and went for a wander. Perhaps we didn’t wander far enough but, though we found a great old building at one point, we could not find anywhere we could go into to explore so did not linger for long. There is one strange shaped mountain there though.

 

The Draa valley itself is lovely. Photographs cannot convey the feeling of being there and I have to say many guide book and web site pictures made me wonder if it was worth the effort to get there. Believe me, it is. You do need your own transport so you can stop and go as you like. A car with air con would be best if you want to feel fresh enough to make the most of it all. They say you should set out first thing in the morning but it can take so long to see everything that you are going to be SOMEWHERE at midday!

 

 

We stopped at Tamnagoult, following the sign pointing to the Kasbah off along a very rough track, parked up and walked off towards what we thought was a Kasbah. The town itself looks like somewhere from a spaghetti western and a couple of locals soon approached us, braving the hottest part of the day. They told us that the Kasbah we were approaching was someone’s house but one of them guided us for quite a walk to a fine view of the one we wanted to see, looking across the surprisingly full Draa river. Local kids were swimming in the Bilharzia infested waters but we decided to give it a miss despite how inviting it looked. Unfortunately that meant we could not get across to explore the Kasbah itself. A bridge is being built further along the main road so maybe one day it will be possible to get there but otherwise I think a big detour and probably a 4 wheel drive (quatre quatre) would be needed to get there. I tipped our guide but unfortunately he asked for more which sort of spoiled the visit. Still they are very poor in this area and we probably looked very rich.

 

We drove on, swigging at our now hot mineral water, watching the locals washing carpets in the rivers, kids riding donkeys and the river meandering between endless palm trees with Mud brick houses and ancient looking Kasbahs peeking through the foliage from time to time.

Finally at around 3.00 we reached Zagora. I had planned that we stay at a good hotel whatever the cost (as long as they took plastic wich they did!) so chose the Riad Salaam. It’s easy to find. You drive through the suburbs, along the straight desert road until you reach the town gates and the riad is on the left right next to them. For 565dh (about £35) we stayed in the lap of luxury; a huge bed, air con and a virtually deserted swimming pool. The perfect oasis of tranquil calm in the midst of the one of the hottest driest places I have ever been. Dust devils picked up old plastic bags and whirled them around high in the air of an iron blue sky above as I swam and completely relaxed after the long drive. The only disturbance being when four attractive French girls came out for a dip in the pool in their skimpy bikinis, or so Deb told me as I never noticed.

 

Ahem, where was I? oh yes. At about 6.30 we set off continuing south towards Tinfou (marked ‘dunes’ on the maps just as it says in the LP guide book) sadly skipping past Tamegroute which I’m sure would be worth a visit and along the dead straight desert road. It is about 98km to M’hamid, our original intended destination but at Tamegroute the road becomes a lot rougher, narrower and consequently slower. You need another day to get there and do the dunes justice I think, so one day I will return but probably to Merzouga instead.

You turn off the road onto firm desert strewn with small stones, first gear driving for 15 mins or so in a Fiat Palio. The dunes are quite small though there is one good sized one which we sat on to watch the sunset and chat with a Belgian tourist and his Moroccan guide. This was one of the memorable moments of the whole trip. It was lovely.

 

Later on, back at Zagora I was feeling a bit rough and just fancied soup, the restaurant had chicken soup on the menu but it turnedout all soup was ‘impossible’ so I had Kofta Brochettes with chips. Just the job. Deb had an entire packet of spaghetti to herself, they don’t do portions by half in Morocco. Don’t go there to lose weight!

 

Taliouine – Monday 12th

In the morning we bid a sad farewell to that little haven of cool calm and hit the road again heading back towards Agadir. We left quite early but still ended at Ait benhadou just in time for the midday heat. It’s not far off the main Marrakech road and well worth a detour. They filmed part of Gladiator and Lawrence of Arabia there (a shopkeeper in Ouarzazate tried to sell me Aouda Abu Tai’s camel whip!) but that’s not the reason for going. It looks just like all the picture postcards you see and for 10dh or so you can wander around the streets and into the fortified parts to your hearts content. You have to cross a (mostly) dry river on sandbags so I’m not sure how successful that would be in the rainy season but there is a hotel there which might be worth staying at If you are running out of time and don’t fancy Ouarzazate. Give yourself plenty of time because it would be a shame to rush the visit though you can see enough in an hour or two which was about all we could afford as we still had a long journey to make.

 

We rejoined the main road and a few miles later on took a left turn, heading back to Agadir via Tazehakht and Taliouine. Again the landscape is one of barren dry riverbeds and dust. We drove through clouds of locusts and even sporadic rain showers. From Tazenakht the roads are virtually dead straight for mile after mile so you can get up a good speed but there is little clearance when you meet cars coming the other way and none at all when you meet a lorry. One lorry coming the other way on our side of the road around a mountain hairpin almost ended our holiday there and then! Eventually we reached Taliouine in the early evening and pulled in by a building to check the map for Auberge Souktana, only to look up and find it WAS the Auberge Souktana! This was a beautiful little bed and breakfast, privately owned by a French/Moroccan couple. The room was lovely and though there was no choice over food (The choice of Tagine with meat or without meant you got one which you just picked out the meat if you didn’t want to eat it) but it was delicious and as usual served in huge portions. I wish we had taken the time to have a look around Taliouine though I don’t think there is much there.

 

Agadir – Tuesday 13th

 

This was just a day of driving back to Agadir. We arrived at the allotted time to be greeted by a stranger. Mohammad had been taken ill so we never got the chance to tip him. There was no problem with the car (despite the extra rattles it seemed to have gained and the word ‘mustapha’ someone, somewhere had carved onto the bodywork!) and he gave us back our credit card slips which they had kept in case we ran off the machine. We heaved a sigh of relief and returned to our bedroom for my own part feeling very sad that the most exciting part of the holiday was probably over.

 

Agadir – Wednesday 14th

 

A day spent mostly sunbathing and relaxing. We also checked out buses to Taroudannt only to find that CTM as usual run at ridiculous times, and resigned ourselves to the cheap and nasty local companies. The man with the worlds most stressful job (ticket office sales at SATAS) or so it seemed, told us to go away and come back tomorrow.

 

Taroudannt – Thursday 15th

 

At 9.30 we tried to haggle with the Grandes taxis for a ride to Taroudannt but they weren’t interested and seeing as no one else goes there from Agadir we couldn’t even fill one to reduce the price so we resigned ourselves to Agadir’s delightful bus depot. We bought our 20dh tickets and swatted flies for half an hour while waiting for the bus. It finally left half empty and much to our relief and, as we suspected, pulled up at Inezgane bus depot where it sat and waited for three quarters of an hour whilst watch sellers, biscuit sellers and fruit sellers in an endless line climbed aboard and waved their wares in debs face. We were even blessed by a holy man in a blue robe and an old man in a purple one begged for money. This was all very entertaining but as the bus moved a bit then stopped, waited, honked it’s horn and waited some more my patience eventually wore thin and the pair of us sat there fuming as the day got hotter.

 

We eventually arrived at Taroudannt, and to be fair it’s not a bad little souk but after Marrakech everywhere pales to insignificance. I haggled over a Kilim and got the price down from 2800dh (WAY to much) to 720dh which was about what I hoped to pay and the shopkeeper and I parted company both quite happy with ourselves I think. Taroudannt’s walls are quite impressive and the old Kasbah quarter has an interesting gateway and some attractive doorways, not a bad place to while away an afternoon.

 

On the way back we had noticed goats climbing in amongst the Argan trees, just like it says they do in the guide books, so took pictures as the bus went past. They are posed. The goats have been sent up into the trees by boys and are there purely to get tourists to stop and photograph them. And why not. Deb had the bright idea of us catch the bus direct to Inezgane and a grandes Taxi from there to Agadir and this we did. It worked like a dream though Inezgane bus depot is a big place with thousands of grandes taxis to chose from.

 

Final piece of useful advice, I reckon you should get your buses from Inezgane rather than Agadir, there is a lot more choice and they are probably a lot more regular but the trouble is it’s a little way out. The Grandes taxis to Inezgane are cheap; about 30dh or so, but probably worth the effort for better buses and times. If you do your shopping in Marrakech you could avoid going to Taroudannt altogether and not miss much. Perhaps a better sightseeing trip would be to Essaouira though you would need a night’s stopover due to the distance involved.

 

Agadir – Friday 16th

 

We spent the day on the beach which was great with a hired sun lounger then took a petit taxi (when we could find an empty one!) up to the old Kasbah to watch the obligatory sunset. We should have arranged the price in advance because he charged 40dh there and 40dh back. The view is well worth the effort and quite moving if you have visited the small Agadir museum dedicated to those who perished in the earthquake of 1960.

 

We had a meal at a restaurant where, as usual, they could not change our notes. In fact not only did the waiter not get a tip because we only had large notes but we didn’t even have to pay the full amount because he couldn’t get the change. Now what’s that all about? It’s not like we were trying to pay 10dh with a 200dh note, we couldn’t get change at all. So how is anyone supposed to tip? We wanted to tip and generally always did but it seemed impossible to get small enough change. I’m not that wealthy I can tip with 100dh notes, but perhaps that’s what they wanted.

 

Agadir – Saturday 17th

 

Only a day or so to go now so we sunbathed a bit (It wasn’t always as misty as this) and did some last minute shopping at the Uniprix market. I think this was the day we visited the Valley of teh birds, a small zoo which the kids might like. A very strange place with hardly anything to tell you what you are looking at, some odd plastic dinosaurs and an artificial waterfall that the locals seem to enjoy taking pictures of. Also had a meal at the best restaurant in town (Riad Yacoub). Trust me it’s great.

 

Agadir – Sunday 18th

 

Last day. What can I say? I was ready to leave Agadir. I’d had enough of crowds and cars. If I could have stayed in morocco another fortnight I would have, I loved the country. Maybe Fes and Meknes then the Dades gorge and Merzouga next time. We’ll see. Oh and the oranges we picked up on the way to Marrakesh? Rather than throw them away, after all, they had followed us all the way to Zagora and back, we decided to eat them and you know what? They were juicy and delicious!

 

One last thing, if towns had soundtracks then these would be the ones for the places we visited.

Marrakech – Beethovens 5th Symphony
Ouarzazate – Ghost Town by the Specials
Zagora – Take me I’m yours by The Squeeze
Taroudannt – The theme to Steptoe and son
Agadir – Agadoo by Black Lace

~ by ir0nee on July 1, 2008.