Hello, we’re a family with two kids aged 3 and 7. We’re heading to Morocco at the end of February for 11 days and would love to take a road trip starting from Marrakech down to the south of the country, exploring the Atlas Mountains, sleeping in the desert, and then making our way to Agadir—all over about 3 days. We’re looking for something authentic and typical. Travel agencies are offering us pre-packaged bus tours at sky-high prices, but that’s not what we’re after at all. Could you help us out? Do you know any local driver-guides who might be interested? Thanks, and best wishes!
17 similar discussions in English
Hi there,
Last February, I made a trip using "public transport" from France to southern Senegal via Spain, Morocco, Western Sahara, and Mauritania.
It’s a journey of about 5,000 km, where I took trains (as far as Marrakech), ferries (to cross Gibraltar and then to reach Casamance from Dakar), and mostly buses on the long desert straightaways. I hadn’t planned any stops in advance or booked any hotels, except for the very first train to Spain, which left plenty of room for the unexpected. Why travel by land and sea? In recent years, flight-free travel has been gaining popularity. On social media, posts explaining how to cross Europe by train as quickly as possible go viral. Traveling without flying—and making sure people know about it—has become a great way to earn a badge of eco-responsibility: an essential totem for anyone wanting to prove both their dedication to the ecological cause and the wisdom of slow travel. I haven’t flown in years, and this journey to West Africa could easily be filed under "responsible travel." But it wouldn’t be honest to say that: in reality, it wasn’t really my aversion to flying that motivated this long trek. I see overland travel primarily as a way to experience the world’s geography at a grounded, earthly pace—the pace of the locals. Besides, I’ll be flying back, which disqualifies any claim to being a model of sustainability. So no eco-badge, and no adventurer’s badge either: you won’t find any heroic tales of camel rides in lost lands or mineral train wagons in this account (popular with influencers, the Mauritania iron ore train now attracts tourists from all over the world, turning "the experience" into something you "have to do at least once in your life"). This five-part story, written on the road, has no other ambition than to recount a journey through places and people, and to share the thoughts they inspire in me. As simply and, I hope, as humbly as possible.
I’m posting the episodes here, which you can also find on my blog (with more photos) at the following links:
Episode 1: Spain, from Avignon to Algeciras
Episode 2: Morocco, from Tangier to Tarfaya
Episode 3: Western Sahara, from Tarfaya to Guerguerat
Episode 4: Mauritania, from Guerguerat to Nouakchott
Episode 5: Senegal, from Rosso to Saloulou
To help those who might want to make the same trip, I’ve also put together a summary of the route with recommendations—you can read it at the end of the story and on the blog: From France to Senegal Without Flying: Route and Itinerary Recommendations
Happy reading, and safe travels!
Last February, I made a trip using "public transport" from France to southern Senegal via Spain, Morocco, Western Sahara, and Mauritania.
It’s a journey of about 5,000 km, where I took trains (as far as Marrakech), ferries (to cross Gibraltar and then to reach Casamance from Dakar), and mostly buses on the long desert straightaways. I hadn’t planned any stops in advance or booked any hotels, except for the very first train to Spain, which left plenty of room for the unexpected. Why travel by land and sea? In recent years, flight-free travel has been gaining popularity. On social media, posts explaining how to cross Europe by train as quickly as possible go viral. Traveling without flying—and making sure people know about it—has become a great way to earn a badge of eco-responsibility: an essential totem for anyone wanting to prove both their dedication to the ecological cause and the wisdom of slow travel. I haven’t flown in years, and this journey to West Africa could easily be filed under "responsible travel." But it wouldn’t be honest to say that: in reality, it wasn’t really my aversion to flying that motivated this long trek. I see overland travel primarily as a way to experience the world’s geography at a grounded, earthly pace—the pace of the locals. Besides, I’ll be flying back, which disqualifies any claim to being a model of sustainability. So no eco-badge, and no adventurer’s badge either: you won’t find any heroic tales of camel rides in lost lands or mineral train wagons in this account (popular with influencers, the Mauritania iron ore train now attracts tourists from all over the world, turning "the experience" into something you "have to do at least once in your life"). This five-part story, written on the road, has no other ambition than to recount a journey through places and people, and to share the thoughts they inspire in me. As simply and, I hope, as humbly as possible.
I’m posting the episodes here, which you can also find on my blog (with more photos) at the following links:
Episode 1: Spain, from Avignon to Algeciras
Episode 2: Morocco, from Tangier to Tarfaya
Episode 3: Western Sahara, from Tarfaya to Guerguerat
Episode 4: Mauritania, from Guerguerat to Nouakchott
Episode 5: Senegal, from Rosso to Saloulou
To help those who might want to make the same trip, I’ve also put together a summary of the route with recommendations—you can read it at the end of the story and on the blog: From France to Senegal Without Flying: Route and Itinerary Recommendations
Happy reading, and safe travels!
Hi everyone!
I’m heading to Morocco for a full 8 days in early November—it’s my first time visiting. I’m traveling solo and arrive in Agadir on Sunday at 10 PM.
I plan to rent a car to get around.
I’m reaching out to get your advice so I can plan my trip as well as possible...
Here are my questions:
1 - Given my late arrival, is it better to stay overnight in Agadir for the first night? If so, do you have any hotel recommendations, and is transportation easy to arrange at that hour?
2 - Do you have any trusted rental car companies to recommend in Agadir?
3 - For 7 days, here’s the route I’ve planned: Agadir → Taroudant → Taliouine → Tafraoute → Tiznit → Agadir. Does this route seem good (not too short, not too long, any spots worth adding?), considering I enjoy driving?
4 - Should I book my accommodations in advance?
Thanks in advance for your recommendations! I hope these questions aren’t too repetitive compared to what’s already been asked on the forum.
Sébastien
Hi there!
As mentioned in a previous post, we're heading to Morocco in April for 9 days instead of the originally planned 7.
Here's the itinerary I've mapped out to ideally have a complete trip, but I think it might be too ambitious. What do you think? Here's the itinerary (click)
For those who can't open the link: Marrakech (the afternoon of our arrival + 1 day, we’ve already been there without the kids, the goal is not to stay too long) – night Aït Ben Haddou Ouarzazate Skoura – night Oasis de Fint Dadès Gorges Tinghir – night Merzouga – night Zagora – night M’hamid – ideally a night in the desert Agdz Marrakech – night (itinerary via Telouet)
What do you think of this plan? Will it feel too rushed, or is it manageable? Since we don’t know the places, it’s hard to tell if we’ll want to stop everywhere along the way or if there’s enough time to spend at each spot. I’ve included some night-stop assumptions (1 or 2 nights).
We’d love to hear your thoughts! We’re traveling with my wife, a 13-year-old teen, and a 10-year-old. We’ll have our own rental car.
Thanks! !
As mentioned in a previous post, we're heading to Morocco in April for 9 days instead of the originally planned 7.
Here's the itinerary I've mapped out to ideally have a complete trip, but I think it might be too ambitious. What do you think? Here's the itinerary (click)
For those who can't open the link: Marrakech (the afternoon of our arrival + 1 day, we’ve already been there without the kids, the goal is not to stay too long) – night Aït Ben Haddou Ouarzazate Skoura – night Oasis de Fint Dadès Gorges Tinghir – night Merzouga – night Zagora – night M’hamid – ideally a night in the desert Agdz Marrakech – night (itinerary via Telouet)
What do you think of this plan? Will it feel too rushed, or is it manageable? Since we don’t know the places, it’s hard to tell if we’ll want to stop everywhere along the way or if there’s enough time to spend at each spot. I’ve included some night-stop assumptions (1 or 2 nights).
We’d love to hear your thoughts! We’re traveling with my wife, a 13-year-old teen, and a 10-year-old. We’ll have our own rental car.
Thanks! !
As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I inherited my love of travel from my parents and some of my grandparents. A strong passion, but one that was unfortunately limited by our family’s modest resources. Back then, living in northern Alsace, a simple trip to the southern part of the region—with the Wine Route as our destination—felt like an extraordinary journey to a land of plenty for the little boy I was in the late 60s and early 70s.
Everything seemed so huge when you were still just a kid.
Back then, I was overwhelmed by countless sensations—I was already highly sensitive, with a keen mind and a nose and taste buds that were developing like a pro’s. Which, as I’d later realize, wasn’t always an advantage.
Those magical days always began with a gentle late-spring or midsummer morning. The interior of the white Peugeot 404, license plate 210 LZ 67, had already soaked up the sun before the engine purred to life, and the cabin gave off a scent I could still recognize today—a fragrance I found so pleasant. Back then, I had no idea it was just the smell of warm plastic from the car’s interior. Yes, the scents of the 404 on sunny days became my madeleine de Proust... What’s more, the whole family was unusually cheerful because those moments of relaxation and leisure were rare. Everyone worked, and no one had an easy job or was well paid. Without the *Trente Glorieuses*, these experiences might never have happened.
Once we crossed the canton’s borders, I felt like I was light-years away from my everyday surroundings, and every kilometer plunged me deeper into *terra incognita*. It was thrilling. Far from my so-called "medium-sized" town, wheat fields, cornfields, and cabbage patches stretched out, punctuated by tall poles connected by long wires and topped with vegetation—like giant clotheslines without laundry, where magical beanstalks might grow to touch the sky. Back then, I was still far from tasting their product, which was simply beer. At the time, there was still a significant local hop production. Fun fact: it wasn’t until 2002 that Anglo-Saxon scientists proved hops and cannabis belong to the same biological family.
After the fields, the landscape took another step up as it rolled past the little boy’s eyes, often glued to the windows. First came modest hills, then a succession of rolling slopes that soon formed an unbroken chain. Their 700 meters in altitude felt like Himalayan peaks to me—impressive, inert giants, a whole new world. Gazing at them, an intense emotion welled up somewhere between my stomach and lungs, nearly taking my breath away. What mysteries, what treasures did these heights hold? And then there were the cherries on top—the crowning touch that made the scene even more magical: proud, majestic castles perched on the summits like impassive sentinels. Monuments from the past, yet firmly rooted in the present on their rocky spurs. The little boy’s eyes sparkled—he’d been given a castle for Christmas, complete with battlements, towers, a drawbridge, and fully armed knights. He’d watched and lived *Ivanhoe* on the only French TV channel that existed back then.
Only once did my paternal grandfather join us on one of these trips. A tall, intelligent man with a face that could shift from stern to mischievous, clearly full of humor and charisma. Sadly, his relationship with alcohol had taken a toll on his life and, by extension, those of his loved ones. He had a strong personality—if his boss crossed the line, he wouldn’t hesitate to punch him, which meant he went through a lot of different jobs. Back then, you could quit one job and easily find another. It was quite something to see him in his final stages, hallucinating pink elephants and even drinking perfume when he had nothing else left. The last time I saw him, he’d slipped away from the doctors and nurses while hospitalized in pretty bad shape—at least, I assume his liver was the issue. We were sitting down for a family lunch when the door burst open, and there he stood in his pajamas, eyes twinkling with mischief, clearly pleased with the dramatic entrance. That theatrical moment didn’t spare us from burying him a few months later at the age of 71. One day, my mother told me the family doctor had quietly remarked that it was a shame—with his robust constitution, he could’ve lived to be a hundred. Yes, the family doctor—this was the man who’d come treat you any day, at almost any hour, just for a phone call. It really existed, it’s not a myth!
That day, his wife—my paternal grandmother—was also along for the ride. Everyone agreed that Jeannette was a good woman. She worked as a waitress at *Le Tigre*, the biggest brasserie in town, right in the center. Most customers preferred to be served by her, including local dignitaries and even the mayor. As a kid, I didn’t find her very fun, open, or warm—she seemed a bit stern. Back then, women in their fifties already had the face and build of grandmothers. Same went for men, don’t get me wrong. I had no idea about the struggles she faced because of her husband. I didn’t know that 30 years earlier, she’d had to flee Alsace while pregnant, under threat from Nazi fighter-bombers. I didn’t know she’d had several miscarriages, and that my father—her only surviving child, born prematurely in March 1940 at the other end of France—weighed less than a kilo at birth and was so tiny he could fit in a shoebox. Hard to imagine he’d grow into a strapping man nearly 1.80 meters tall, tipping the scales at 100 kilos. When you come back from summer camp in early August and ask why she didn’t pick you up with your parents, and they gently tell you she’s "in heaven," you don’t realize she passed away at 54 after suffering greatly from stomach cancer that had spread.
Back to that family outing, that enchanted parenthesis. I even remembered where we’d had lunch when I passed through Dambach-la-Ville decades later. One of those charming, flower-filled towns Alsace produces in abundance—and preserves so well. This one sits high on a hill, and I was a bit stunned on the parking lot because the view stretched far, revealing the Alsace plain below—its fields, villages, hills, and forests. The world seemed so vast and enticing that day, even though I was only glimpsing a tiny fraction of it.
The region was already very touristy, but I wouldn’t notice the downsides until much later. That Sunday noon, I discovered a large restaurant filled with diners. I can still see the enormous piece of meat they served me, decorated with a little wooden skewer topped with a flag. I kept that one for a long time. Those were the golden days of rich, flowing, thick sauces—so flavorful—and the era of the world’s best fries, made on the spot with the best potatoes. To top it off, I was *exceptionally* allowed a small bottle of apple juice, Orangina, or—even better if possible—Sinalco. Yes, Sinalco—like Orangina, but better. A brand that must’ve disappeared in the 70s, but why, and what a shame! Since then, Orangina’s little bubbles have taken the brand to the other side of the planet—it’s now Japanese.
Year after year, I’d eagerly await that ecstatic moment when the most beautiful castle in Alsace, the Haut-Koenigsbourg, appeared in my field of vision. The perfect model, the archetype that blended into the landscape at the height of a child’s dreams. The trip home always felt like a reality check—less jarring than an alarm clock, but more diffuse and melancholic. From then on, there was only one wish: *When do we leave again?*
Those magical days always began with a gentle late-spring or midsummer morning. The interior of the white Peugeot 404, license plate 210 LZ 67, had already soaked up the sun before the engine purred to life, and the cabin gave off a scent I could still recognize today—a fragrance I found so pleasant. Back then, I had no idea it was just the smell of warm plastic from the car’s interior. Yes, the scents of the 404 on sunny days became my madeleine de Proust... What’s more, the whole family was unusually cheerful because those moments of relaxation and leisure were rare. Everyone worked, and no one had an easy job or was well paid. Without the *Trente Glorieuses*, these experiences might never have happened.
Once we crossed the canton’s borders, I felt like I was light-years away from my everyday surroundings, and every kilometer plunged me deeper into *terra incognita*. It was thrilling. Far from my so-called "medium-sized" town, wheat fields, cornfields, and cabbage patches stretched out, punctuated by tall poles connected by long wires and topped with vegetation—like giant clotheslines without laundry, where magical beanstalks might grow to touch the sky. Back then, I was still far from tasting their product, which was simply beer. At the time, there was still a significant local hop production. Fun fact: it wasn’t until 2002 that Anglo-Saxon scientists proved hops and cannabis belong to the same biological family.
After the fields, the landscape took another step up as it rolled past the little boy’s eyes, often glued to the windows. First came modest hills, then a succession of rolling slopes that soon formed an unbroken chain. Their 700 meters in altitude felt like Himalayan peaks to me—impressive, inert giants, a whole new world. Gazing at them, an intense emotion welled up somewhere between my stomach and lungs, nearly taking my breath away. What mysteries, what treasures did these heights hold? And then there were the cherries on top—the crowning touch that made the scene even more magical: proud, majestic castles perched on the summits like impassive sentinels. Monuments from the past, yet firmly rooted in the present on their rocky spurs. The little boy’s eyes sparkled—he’d been given a castle for Christmas, complete with battlements, towers, a drawbridge, and fully armed knights. He’d watched and lived *Ivanhoe* on the only French TV channel that existed back then.
Only once did my paternal grandfather join us on one of these trips. A tall, intelligent man with a face that could shift from stern to mischievous, clearly full of humor and charisma. Sadly, his relationship with alcohol had taken a toll on his life and, by extension, those of his loved ones. He had a strong personality—if his boss crossed the line, he wouldn’t hesitate to punch him, which meant he went through a lot of different jobs. Back then, you could quit one job and easily find another. It was quite something to see him in his final stages, hallucinating pink elephants and even drinking perfume when he had nothing else left. The last time I saw him, he’d slipped away from the doctors and nurses while hospitalized in pretty bad shape—at least, I assume his liver was the issue. We were sitting down for a family lunch when the door burst open, and there he stood in his pajamas, eyes twinkling with mischief, clearly pleased with the dramatic entrance. That theatrical moment didn’t spare us from burying him a few months later at the age of 71. One day, my mother told me the family doctor had quietly remarked that it was a shame—with his robust constitution, he could’ve lived to be a hundred. Yes, the family doctor—this was the man who’d come treat you any day, at almost any hour, just for a phone call. It really existed, it’s not a myth!
That day, his wife—my paternal grandmother—was also along for the ride. Everyone agreed that Jeannette was a good woman. She worked as a waitress at *Le Tigre*, the biggest brasserie in town, right in the center. Most customers preferred to be served by her, including local dignitaries and even the mayor. As a kid, I didn’t find her very fun, open, or warm—she seemed a bit stern. Back then, women in their fifties already had the face and build of grandmothers. Same went for men, don’t get me wrong. I had no idea about the struggles she faced because of her husband. I didn’t know that 30 years earlier, she’d had to flee Alsace while pregnant, under threat from Nazi fighter-bombers. I didn’t know she’d had several miscarriages, and that my father—her only surviving child, born prematurely in March 1940 at the other end of France—weighed less than a kilo at birth and was so tiny he could fit in a shoebox. Hard to imagine he’d grow into a strapping man nearly 1.80 meters tall, tipping the scales at 100 kilos. When you come back from summer camp in early August and ask why she didn’t pick you up with your parents, and they gently tell you she’s "in heaven," you don’t realize she passed away at 54 after suffering greatly from stomach cancer that had spread.
Back to that family outing, that enchanted parenthesis. I even remembered where we’d had lunch when I passed through Dambach-la-Ville decades later. One of those charming, flower-filled towns Alsace produces in abundance—and preserves so well. This one sits high on a hill, and I was a bit stunned on the parking lot because the view stretched far, revealing the Alsace plain below—its fields, villages, hills, and forests. The world seemed so vast and enticing that day, even though I was only glimpsing a tiny fraction of it.
The region was already very touristy, but I wouldn’t notice the downsides until much later. That Sunday noon, I discovered a large restaurant filled with diners. I can still see the enormous piece of meat they served me, decorated with a little wooden skewer topped with a flag. I kept that one for a long time. Those were the golden days of rich, flowing, thick sauces—so flavorful—and the era of the world’s best fries, made on the spot with the best potatoes. To top it off, I was *exceptionally* allowed a small bottle of apple juice, Orangina, or—even better if possible—Sinalco. Yes, Sinalco—like Orangina, but better. A brand that must’ve disappeared in the 70s, but why, and what a shame! Since then, Orangina’s little bubbles have taken the brand to the other side of the planet—it’s now Japanese.
Year after year, I’d eagerly await that ecstatic moment when the most beautiful castle in Alsace, the Haut-Koenigsbourg, appeared in my field of vision. The perfect model, the archetype that blended into the landscape at the height of a child’s dreams. The trip home always felt like a reality check—less jarring than an alarm clock, but more diffuse and melancholic. From then on, there was only one wish: *When do we leave again?*
Hi there,
We’re heading to Ouarzazate and southern Morocco in 7 days. Here’s our route (map). We’re a family of 2 adults and 3 kids (11, 9, and 5 years old). Could you let me know if there are even more scenic roads to take, and any must-see spots, please? 😉
Day 1: Ouarzazate – Skoura – Dadès Day 2: Dadès + Todra Day 3: Tinegir – Djbel Saghro – N'Kob Day 4: Tazzarine – M'Hamid (overnight in Erg Lihoudi) Day 5: M'Hamid – Draa Valley – Agdz Day 6: Agdz – Fint – Ben Haddou Day 7: Telouet – Ouarzazate
We’re heading to Ouarzazate and southern Morocco in 7 days. Here’s our route (map). We’re a family of 2 adults and 3 kids (11, 9, and 5 years old). Could you let me know if there are even more scenic roads to take, and any must-see spots, please? 😉
Day 1: Ouarzazate – Skoura – Dadès Day 2: Dadès + Todra Day 3: Tinegir – Djbel Saghro – N'Kob Day 4: Tazzarine – M'Hamid (overnight in Erg Lihoudi) Day 5: M'Hamid – Draa Valley – Agdz Day 6: Agdz – Fint – Ben Haddou Day 7: Telouet – Ouarzazate
Hello VF friends!
We’re planning to leave Marrakesh by rental car—this will be our second trip to Morocco. While we want to revisit some places, we also hope to explore new regions. Here’s the start of our itinerary, which could take 2 to 3 weeks. We don’t want to cover too many kilometers each day.
- Depart Marrakech for Essaouira, stopping to visit the Inzerki beehive. We’ll stay 3 nights in Essaouira to explore the city and the surrounding area. - Head toward Tamanar or that region for another 3 nights, exploring on a star-shaped route. We’d like to see the Paradise Valley and the coast. Not really keen on stopping in Agadir.
We’ve been to Tafraoute before, but I’d love to see some *greniers* (granaries) again, so we’re considering 1 or 2 nights there.
- Tiznit for 2 nights, making our way to Plage Blanche. - Guelmin and the Tighmert oasis for 2 nights. - Tata for 2 nights, visiting Akka Iguane and other villages.
After that, we’ll head east.
We’d love to hear about your experiences, great tips, and recommendations!
Thanks so much, and happy holidays!
- Depart Marrakech for Essaouira, stopping to visit the Inzerki beehive. We’ll stay 3 nights in Essaouira to explore the city and the surrounding area. - Head toward Tamanar or that region for another 3 nights, exploring on a star-shaped route. We’d like to see the Paradise Valley and the coast. Not really keen on stopping in Agadir.
We’ve been to Tafraoute before, but I’d love to see some *greniers* (granaries) again, so we’re considering 1 or 2 nights there.
- Tiznit for 2 nights, making our way to Plage Blanche. - Guelmin and the Tighmert oasis for 2 nights. - Tata for 2 nights, visiting Akka Iguane and other villages.
After that, we’ll head east.
We’d love to hear about your experiences, great tips, and recommendations!
Thanks so much, and happy holidays!
I’m not going back, the trip is in the past. I’m posting it anyway because the country probably hasn’t changed enough to make the story outdated, and the astonishing beauty of the place deserves to be shared here.
Saturday, May 31, 2014 Mulhouse - Marrakech
A flight that drags on for three and a half hours. Everything goes smoothly until immigration. Like almost everywhere, you have to fill out a little form with your details and arrival address. The problem comes when you hand it to the customs officer with your passport. Right away, you see the lines are way too long for the number of officers working. I steer Dom toward a line further to the left that’s clearly moving faster than the middle ones. Then I firmly pull him to the far left where I think I spotted a new counter opening. Big mistake. Huge. Because that line is notorious for how slowly the security agent checks each person. At 10 minutes per person, with about fifteen ahead of us, we’re looking at two and a half hours. The wait becomes torture. Everyone gets edgy. We watch enviously as people who were way behind us initially zip through the other lines. You feel like complaining. My advice? Don’t. You have no idea how much a pissed-off customs officer can ruin your day! The rule: stay calm and suck it up. Once that hurdle’s over, a taxi and boom, we’re at the Gallia, a no-frills but charming hotel just steps from Jemaa El Fna square. This place is insane! It’s teeming with people. You stick out like a sore thumb with your camera—suddenly, a ton of people want to be your best friend! You’re basically a walking wallet!
We’ve got a meet-up with friends who are here on a work trip with their company’s social committee.
We fully embrace our tourist roles—eating at restaurants made for us, with belly dancers who insist we join in. We go with the flow, we’re not prudes, we have a great evening, no way we’re missing out on the fun...
Sunday, June 1, 2014 Marrakech
Super nice breakfast in the hotel’s patio, a real riad, beautifully decorated.
Originally, we’d planned a trip to the Atlas Mountains, but we ended up wandering around the city instead. Before we knew it, we were in the middle of the central souk’s labyrinth. It’s a feast for the eyes, ears, and especially the nose!
Saturday, May 31, 2014 Mulhouse - Marrakech
A flight that drags on for three and a half hours. Everything goes smoothly until immigration. Like almost everywhere, you have to fill out a little form with your details and arrival address. The problem comes when you hand it to the customs officer with your passport. Right away, you see the lines are way too long for the number of officers working. I steer Dom toward a line further to the left that’s clearly moving faster than the middle ones. Then I firmly pull him to the far left where I think I spotted a new counter opening. Big mistake. Huge. Because that line is notorious for how slowly the security agent checks each person. At 10 minutes per person, with about fifteen ahead of us, we’re looking at two and a half hours. The wait becomes torture. Everyone gets edgy. We watch enviously as people who were way behind us initially zip through the other lines. You feel like complaining. My advice? Don’t. You have no idea how much a pissed-off customs officer can ruin your day! The rule: stay calm and suck it up. Once that hurdle’s over, a taxi and boom, we’re at the Gallia, a no-frills but charming hotel just steps from Jemaa El Fna square. This place is insane! It’s teeming with people. You stick out like a sore thumb with your camera—suddenly, a ton of people want to be your best friend! You’re basically a walking wallet!
We’ve got a meet-up with friends who are here on a work trip with their company’s social committee.
We fully embrace our tourist roles—eating at restaurants made for us, with belly dancers who insist we join in. We go with the flow, we’re not prudes, we have a great evening, no way we’re missing out on the fun...
Sunday, June 1, 2014 Marrakech
Super nice breakfast in the hotel’s patio, a real riad, beautifully decorated.
Originally, we’d planned a trip to the Atlas Mountains, but we ended up wandering around the city instead. Before we knew it, we were in the middle of the central souk’s labyrinth. It’s a feast for the eyes, ears, and especially the nose!
Hi everyone,
I’m planning a 7-day trip to Marrakech for a sports camp, and I’ll be traveling with just a standard carry-on backpack.
I’d love to hear your best tips and tricks: • What clothes are absolutely essential? • Any advice for managing the heat while traveling light? • Which accessories have been the most useful for you? • Mistakes to avoid on a first trip to Marrakech?
I’m also open to your recommendations for neighborhoods, restaurants, or activities not to miss during my free time.
Thanks in advance for your advice and experience! !
I’m planning a 7-day trip to Marrakech for a sports camp, and I’ll be traveling with just a standard carry-on backpack.
I’d love to hear your best tips and tricks: • What clothes are absolutely essential? • Any advice for managing the heat while traveling light? • Which accessories have been the most useful for you? • Mistakes to avoid on a first trip to Marrakech?
I’m also open to your recommendations for neighborhoods, restaurants, or activities not to miss during my free time.
Thanks in advance for your advice and experience! !
As-salamu alaykum!
We’re heading to Morocco as a family from April 22 to May 8. It’s a bit short to explore such a beautiful and vast country, but school and work commitments, you know how it is... My partner is a musician and absolutely loves Gnawa music. Unfortunately, we won’t have time to visit Essaouira, as we’re heading south toward the Valley of the Roses...
Do you know of any places around Marrakech, Ouarzazate, or Kelaat M’Gouna where we might have the chance to meet Gnawa musicians? We’ll also be staying a few days in Aït Benhaddou and Skoura during our trip toward the Dadès Valley. If you have any good spots to buy a guembri along the way, I’d love to hear about them too! :)
Thanks in advance for your tips!
Mathieu
We’re heading to Morocco as a family from April 22 to May 8. It’s a bit short to explore such a beautiful and vast country, but school and work commitments, you know how it is... My partner is a musician and absolutely loves Gnawa music. Unfortunately, we won’t have time to visit Essaouira, as we’re heading south toward the Valley of the Roses...
Do you know of any places around Marrakech, Ouarzazate, or Kelaat M’Gouna where we might have the chance to meet Gnawa musicians? We’ll also be staying a few days in Aït Benhaddou and Skoura during our trip toward the Dadès Valley. If you have any good spots to buy a guembri along the way, I’d love to hear about them too! :)
Thanks in advance for your tips!
Mathieu
Hello fellow adventurers! :)
I’m writing this little message to the community and adventurers because I’m thinking of heading to Morocco (a country I know well) for a week in February (around the 6th or 10th, for about a week) to climb Mount Toubkal in the Atlas Mountains.
I’m used to hiking and backpacking, but this would be my first 4,000m peak.
I think the mountain landscapes are even more stunning in winter.
I know it’s necessary to hire a guide for this ascent.
Has anyone here already climbed it in winter? If so, any feedback or tips?
Also, if anyone wants to join me on this adventure, I’d love the company! :)
The idea would be to rent a car (around 10–15 € per day) and do some other hikes in the Marrakech area too.
Don’t hesitate to get in touch!
antoine.petiard@gmail.com - 0650536769
Looking forward to it, see you soon!
Antoine :)
Hi everyone,
Third trip to Morocco. For a 4-day getaway, we’ve chosen Agadir in early March. I’m looking for advice on where to stay, while being close to the city center and the seaside. Riad? Apartment? Any recommendations?
We’re landing in Agadir, so I assume we’ll need to take a taxi—anyone have a particular one to recommend? Also, we’d like to do a quad bike outing—any agencies you’d suggest? Thanks for your replies!
Florence and Bruno PS: We’re planning a 10-day road trip at the end of May/beginning of June to explore northern Morocco
We’re landing in Agadir, so I assume we’ll need to take a taxi—anyone have a particular one to recommend? Also, we’d like to do a quad bike outing—any agencies you’d suggest? Thanks for your replies!
Florence and Bruno PS: We’re planning a 10-day road trip at the end of May/beginning of June to explore northern Morocco
Hi there,
We’re heading out at the end of February for a road trip with our two kids, ages 3 and 7. Our itinerary includes Ait Ben Haddou, Tizi-n-Tichka, Sourate, Tinghir, Zagora, Ouarzazate, Ouzoud, and Essaouira. I’d love recommendations for accommodations, restaurants, and typical/spectacular spots to visit. We’d like to spend a night in the Zagora desert. We’re looking for authenticity and a friendly vibe—not tourist traps—for our trip. We’ll be there during Ramadan—any tips? Thanks in advance!
Your fellow globetrotter’s perspective is invaluable.
We’re heading out at the end of February for a road trip with our two kids, ages 3 and 7. Our itinerary includes Ait Ben Haddou, Tizi-n-Tichka, Sourate, Tinghir, Zagora, Ouarzazate, Ouzoud, and Essaouira. I’d love recommendations for accommodations, restaurants, and typical/spectacular spots to visit. We’d like to spend a night in the Zagora desert. We’re looking for authenticity and a friendly vibe—not tourist traps—for our trip. We’ll be there during Ramadan—any tips? Thanks in advance!
Your fellow globetrotter’s perspective is invaluable.
Hi fellow travelers,
I’m looking for a nice hotel in Agadir, in a lively neighborhood, with a room that has a private bathroom, toilet, and AC (not essential). We’ll be staying for 2 or 3 nights before heading south.
We land in the late afternoon—definitely not the best time to go hunting for a place to stay, especially since it’s our first trip to Morocco.
Thanks for your tips!
hi,
My wife and I want to take our first trip to Marrakech around 12/27 for 7 nights.
If you can help us find somewhere to stay that includes breakfast at a minimum.
From what I understand, the most authentic option might be a RIAD.
Our plan is to explore Marrakech.
Thanks for your help
Hi everyone,
Last-minute trip to Marrakech for a week—what unusual discoveries can you recommend in the city?
Thanks for your quick tips!
Hi everyone,
I’m starting to plan a motorcycle trip from Marrakech to Dakar for September 2027.
The idea is to cross southern Morocco, then Mauritania, and finally Senegal all the way to Dakar, taking the time to explore the regions we pass through.
I’m especially looking for advice and feedback from people who’ve already done all or part of this route: recommended itinerary, road and track conditions, border crossings, formalities, safety, fuel, accommodations, must-see stops, things to avoid, etc.
I’d also love to hear your thoughts on traveling in September for this trip.
If any motorcyclists want to join the adventure, that’d be great! The idea is to form a small group, each covering their own expenses, and plan the trip together.
All your tips, experiences, and good addresses are welcome!
Thanks in advance for your help.
Khalid Marrakech
I’m starting to plan a motorcycle trip from Marrakech to Dakar for September 2027.
The idea is to cross southern Morocco, then Mauritania, and finally Senegal all the way to Dakar, taking the time to explore the regions we pass through.
I’m especially looking for advice and feedback from people who’ve already done all or part of this route: recommended itinerary, road and track conditions, border crossings, formalities, safety, fuel, accommodations, must-see stops, things to avoid, etc.
I’d also love to hear your thoughts on traveling in September for this trip.
If any motorcyclists want to join the adventure, that’d be great! The idea is to form a small group, each covering their own expenses, and plan the trip together.
All your tips, experiences, and good addresses are welcome!
Thanks in advance for your help.
Khalid Marrakech
