The Atlantic Coast, Morocco

In our little Renault, we headed west from the desert to the Atlantic coast driving through the city of Agadir and stopping at a town 15 km north called Taghazout, an interesting town known for its rolling surf and a mecca for young surfie types.  The town has a feel about it of 1960’s Byron Bay (without the overt ganja and booze as, like most towns in Morocco, Taghazout is dry).

Surfers coming in for the day

Camels and fishing boats

We were having some difficulty finding suitable accommodation so did what we never do and took up the offer of a tout.  We were offered a little apartment right on the beach front.  On first sight it struck us as a bit grubby but we ended up taking the place for 3 nights.  It was one of those classic cases of poor communication between Bob, me and the tout.  When we had a closer look at the red lights in the lounge and drapes hanging from the ceiling we had a sneaking suspicion that this flat must be a part-time ‘knocking shop’, confirmed when we found strategically located packages of condoms.  Oh dear, this was definitely not one of our best choices.

Our apartment was just behind the rock wall

Despite our less than ideal accommodation we enjoyed our time in Taghazout.  We got to know few of the shop keepers, explored the surrounding area and found a favourite restaurant (Josephines – run by a lovely Armenian French woman whose name is not Josephine.  The restaurant is named after a donkey she had rescued.  She also raises money from tips to save cats and dogs which tend to have the run of the restaurant.).

Josephine's Restaurant

Inspecting the daily catch

The sunsets every evening were spectacular.

Another day we drove to Agadir to check out the marina and met a lovely young English couple that had sailed there.  We got the scoop on rates and facilities and Agadir marina is definitely on our list of possible stopovers when we come by this way in Songster.

Agadir

One morning we watched the fishermen come in unloading about 50 twenty litre containers of fuel.  They had taken their little fishing boats to Agadir to buy fuel.  Apparently the marina sells it for 5 Dirham a litre (about 80 cents) compared to 9 Dirham (about $1.20) at the petrol station.  So a huge savings can be made on a 1000 litre purchase for the fishing co-op.  It was quite a sight to watch these heavily laden fishing boats surf in on the waves then everyone come to unload the fuel while the boat is still being buffeted by the waves.  Finally a tractor winches up the empty boat and puts it high on the beach, until the next day when it will go out to catch fish.

Bringing in the fishing boats

We had only two more days on our car rental so had to move north.  We drove up the coast to Essaouira, a delightful walled town.  We were entertained by acrobats while having lunch.

Acrobats

The old city wall

We made our way to the harbour to check out the marina.  Unlike Agadir, this is not a place we would want to spend any time.  It is very much a working harbour with quite a swell coming in.  The few yachts there had to be rafted up to some of the working boats.  We chatted with one yacht flying a British flag and, small world, they had just bought their catamaran, SV Higgins, in Marmaris last September (on closer inspection we remember seeing it on Bravo pontoon).  He and his family are on the way to the Canary Islands and then across the Atlantic.

Fishing boats coming in

The working harbour

A quick one night in Essaouira then up at dawn to drive to Marrakech to return the car and catch the next train to Tangier to stay at our favourite hotel – ‘When in Tangiers we always stay at the Continental, don’t you know.’

Bye Morocco

So we say goodbye to Morocco.  I really enjoyed our three weeks in this fascinating country.  I wish it well in the future.  It has a lot of potential and if the troubles besetting some of the other Arab countries can be kept at bay and the government invests in its great asset of its young people, then I can see a country that will grow and lead.

The Sahara Sands

We continued south on our road trip to the town of Zagora.  We went through miles and miles of desert, bare mountains and wide plains of rock with the occasional acacia tree.  It was a long dusty drive but we were rewarded by the fantastic hotel we had booked.  It was a huge building in the elegant Moroccan style of beautiful gardens, tiles and ceilings of intricate painted plaster work.  The hotel of about 200 rooms had only three rooms occupied.  Tourism is severely down in Morocco plus we are travelling in the off season (supposedly the tourist season is February – April then it gets too hot).

The lobby of our hotel

The ceiling in the lobby

The next day we drove to M’hamid which is literally the end of the road.  Beyond is the Sahara sand dunes and the Algerian border just 20km away.  We came upon the local market and it was a feast for the eyes - Berbers in their traditional turbans and Djellaba, dusty tomatoes and vegetables, household appliances and clothing all for sale, donkey carts and four wheel drive trucks.  (Bob bought a pair of socks and was quite pleased to know he was wearing the same type of socks as a Berber in M’hamid might wear.)

The market M'hamid

Donkeys, motorbikes and trucks all bring goods to the market

Dusty vegetables

Outside the market

Of course once in town we were asked if we wanted to take a 4W drive or camel ride into the desert.  We chose to sit in a cafe, sip Moroccan mint tea and watch the locals go by.

Street scene in M'hamid

 

Kids going home from school

Then on the outside of town we found our own sand dunes, climbed into them and wiggled our toes in the Sahara sand.

Our footprints in the sand

Untouched sand dunes

After our quick trip to touch the Sahara, we moved northwest to the town of Taroudant.  Taroudant has been called the ‘grandmother of Marrakesh’.  It is a completely walled city barely touched by tourism.  The walls stretch around the city for 6 km.  In the 16^th Century this was the Saadian capital before it moved to Marrakesh.  We walked around the city taking it all in.

City walls of Taroudant

Beautiful park with minaret

Outside the city walls

Large plaza outside the walls

One of the city gates

Fountain in the plaza

In Taroudant horse carriages are quite common.  However unlike in Marrakesh where the carriages are quite ornate and used exclusively for tourist, the horse carriages in Taroudant are simpler and used as taxis by the locals.

Horse drawn carriage

In our travels we noticed a real plastic bag issue in Morocco.  The desert near any town is littered with plastic bags and rubbish disposal in the cities is not as good as it could be.  Happily we were told that within a year plastic bags will be banned in Morocco.  A very encouraging move.

Those blue and white specks are plastic bags

Less than ideal rubbish disposal

Road Trip – Valley of the Roses

We decided to rent a car for 10 days to explore some of the countryside of Morocco.  We picked up our little Renault and headed south from Marrakech towards Ouarzazate over the Atlas Mountains.  The scenery was fantastic.  The roads were good except where they were doing road works building new and bigger roads, which seemed to be everywhere.

The Atlas Mountains

The colours were fantastic

We had booked a room at the Kasbah Dar Dmana which turned out to be in a poor rural village down a narrow dirt road with huge sink holes long the edge.  I wondered if we would end up breaking the car’s axle on our first day out.  We were the only guest and the facilities were basic but we had quite beautiful views of the mountains and desert from the Kasbah terrace.

The view from our Kasbah at sunset with the mountains in the background

The Kasbah village

The next day we went down the Valley of the Roses.  This area down the Asif M'Goun River valley grows almost all of Morocco’s roses used in rose water and perfumery.  The ride was very pretty but we didn’t see a single rose bush.  I know it is January and roses are not blooming but we expected to see pruned bushes but there was nothing but empty garden plots.  I can only assume that they dig up the roses every autumn and replant in the spring.

The entrance to the Valley of the Roses at Kelaat M'gouna

Some cute schoolgirls we befriended

The river valley. Amazing there is so much water in the river when it has not rained for nearly 2 years.

The ochre colours of the cliffs

Village ruins - the mud bricks seem to just dissolve back into the earth

The river valley

Despite seeing no rose bushes it was a lovely drive up a beautiful valley.