Morocco

Agadir

We drove past groves of argan trees and spotted a herd of goats.  This special goat was well known for climbing up into the tree branches to graze.

Spot the little goat in the argan tree

We arrived on the Atlantic coast at Agadir where the temperature was almost 20° cooler than it had been inland, it was such a relief!  The seaside town of Agadir had been destroyed by an earthquake in 1960, killing 15,000 people.  The rebuilt town was modern and had a wide promenade lined with shops and restaurants with a huge sandy beach, a fishing port and marina.   Agadir was more like a European resort than an African one.

We had supper in a fish cafe at the port, bread and olives, Moroccan salad followed by a huge platter of fresh fish and seafood, some fried and some grilled.  

The following day we had lunch at a beach cafè, I chose the octopus.  It’s not to everyone’s taste but I loved it – a rare treat.  Another rare treat was being able to have a beer with our meal.  Alcohol was not normally available as Morocco, especially during Ramadan, but Agadir was a tourist resort and alcohol rules were more relaxed.

Octopus for lunch
Followed by a paddle – should have brought our swimmers as it was 25° and the water felt lovely
 

The campsite had improved since we last visited two years ago.  It was in a great location, five minutes walk from the promenade – but it was still very run down.  Moroccans didn’t seem to maintain anything, the plumbing in the shower blocks was either bad or worse; the fittings were often new-ish but taps either dripped constantly or refused to work at all.  They usually had the ratio of two “hole in the ground” toilets to one pedestal type – thus limiting the choice of loo for us Europeans.  Sometimes toilets were reasonably clean but the pedestal was rarely attached firmly to the floor, the seat (if provided) was never attached to the toilet and, more often than not, the toilet flush did not work.  I always took a pack of disposable antibacterial wipes to the loo and, if things were too awful,  I would attack the loo with a toilet brush and a bottle of bleach, carried in the garage of the van for that purpose.

The shower cubicles were the same – you chose your cubicle carefully – one might have had a tap attached to the wall, another a pipe attached to the tap and, very occasionally you found a rose attached to the pipe.  To turn on the tap and have a reasonable stream of water emit from the rose in the approximate direction of the showeree was an experience that could cause total euphoria.

Maintenance was not important to Moroccans