Hi everyone,
Even though I come to Morocco four times a year, it’s been a long time since I’ve made the trip by car. I need to refresh my knowledge! I’ll be traveling in early October. I have a car that’s about 20 years old. The plan is to cross via Algeciras/Ceuta.
A few questions:
1) Does this crossing still exist? If so, do I need to buy the ticket in advance or on the spot? From whom? Any advice is welcome!
2) What documents are required for the car?
3) If anyone is making the trip around the same time, it could be fun to drive together 😊
I know there are experts on this forum.
Thanks in advance
25 similar discussions in English
Hi,
This autumn, we’re planning to explore the Oriental region and we’re wondering where the best place to land would be. We’ll have three weeks ahead of us and we’ll be renting a car.
Any tips would be much appreciated. Thanks.
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! !
Hi there,
We're a family with two kids aged 7 and 2, planning a trip to Morocco from December 21 to 28, 2026. We're thinking of spending 2 days and 2 nights in Marrakech, then heading out on the third morning to the Erg Chebbi dunes (Merzouga or Khamlia, still deciding), and returning to catch our flight. The plan is to go via Skoura, the Valley of Roses, the Dadès Gorges, Tinghir, to reach the Merzouga dunes. On the way back, we'd stop at Tamnougalt before returning to Marrakech.
A few notes, since traveling with young kids slows everything down: - Ideally, we'd like to travel by shared taxi or bus - I don’t want to stop and sleep in Ouarzazate, as I’ve already visited.
Questions: - Does this seem doable in December (especially the Marrakech-Ouarzazate stretch)? - Which overnight stops would you recommend between Marrakech and Merzouga? We’ll spend 2 nights in two different places, then 2 nights in Merzouga, and 1 night in Tamnougalt. - I’d prefer shared taxis, but can they drop us off a bit farther than city centers (e.g., if our hostel is a few kilometers from Boulmane Dadès, or not in central Merzouga but in Khamlia)? Basically, is it possible to travel a little off the beaten path with shared taxis? - We love family-friendly hostels—if you have any recommendations, we’re all ears!
Thanks, fellow travelers, for your tips! Mélanie
We're a family with two kids aged 7 and 2, planning a trip to Morocco from December 21 to 28, 2026. We're thinking of spending 2 days and 2 nights in Marrakech, then heading out on the third morning to the Erg Chebbi dunes (Merzouga or Khamlia, still deciding), and returning to catch our flight. The plan is to go via Skoura, the Valley of Roses, the Dadès Gorges, Tinghir, to reach the Merzouga dunes. On the way back, we'd stop at Tamnougalt before returning to Marrakech.
A few notes, since traveling with young kids slows everything down: - Ideally, we'd like to travel by shared taxi or bus - I don’t want to stop and sleep in Ouarzazate, as I’ve already visited.
Questions: - Does this seem doable in December (especially the Marrakech-Ouarzazate stretch)? - Which overnight stops would you recommend between Marrakech and Merzouga? We’ll spend 2 nights in two different places, then 2 nights in Merzouga, and 1 night in Tamnougalt. - I’d prefer shared taxis, but can they drop us off a bit farther than city centers (e.g., if our hostel is a few kilometers from Boulmane Dadès, or not in central Merzouga but in Khamlia)? Basically, is it possible to travel a little off the beaten path with shared taxis? - We love family-friendly hostels—if you have any recommendations, we’re all ears!
Thanks, fellow travelers, for your tips! Mélanie
Hi there,
We’re planning to drive to Senegal by car. We’re a little nervous because it’ll be our first time making the trip with a car that isn’t ours. We’re doing the trip to deliver it to its owner. Has anyone here done this before? What documents will we need?
Thanks in advance for your tips!
We’re planning to drive to Senegal by car. We’re a little nervous because it’ll be our first time making the trip with a car that isn’t ours. We’re doing the trip to deliver it to its owner. Has anyone here done this before? What documents will we need?
Thanks in advance for your tips!
Hi there,
Has anyone recently taken the track between Iknioun and Alnif?
What’s its condition like?
Also, is there a well-marked track between the Jewish Dune and Mhamid?
Thanks for any info! Jean-Marie
Also, is there a well-marked track between the Jewish Dune and Mhamid?
Thanks for any info! Jean-Marie
Hotel La suerte loca in Sidi Ifni.
Move along quickly!
LIAR AND DISHONEST.
Not to mention the state of the rooms. That’ll come later.
I booked three nights on-site without a bathroom in room (No. 16). I had called the day before to check availability. The next day, they told me I couldn’t stay in that room on the third night but offered to move me to another room—even more run-down than this one—and without a bathroom. They claimed there had been a mistake and the room was already booked, which is completely false. I’ve been traveling for 20 years and can spot hoteliers’ tricks. The woman running the place checked all her online sites and her schedule before confirming the room was available. She was sure. Especially since they display the booking schedule in front of each room to avoid mistakes. So, a pure lie. For what reason?
For me, two options: either take the run-down room for cheaper without a bathroom or leave. Great customer service. I found another hotel, Safa, a bit further away, at the same price with breakfast—100 times more luxurious and comfortable than this place. Or just down on the beach, Hotel Aït Baamrane, same price or even negotiable, and still much more comfortable.
When I left in the morning, they barely said goodbye, not a word of apology, no gesture to make up for kicking me out. NOTHING, NADA!
The woman running the place, with her fake friendliness and hypocrisy, only cares about one thing: money.
Otherwise, the place could be great if it were properly maintained. Instead of repainting the balconies, they should replace the mattresses, which are completely wrecked. The only good thing about this hotel is its location above the sea.
Otherwise, Room No. 16 was recently repainted. Every time someone uses the water, there’s a huge noise from the pipes and vibrations. The walls are paper-thin (figuratively speaking)—when neighbors talked or coughed, it was like they were in the room with me.
I had to wait to check in because of cleaning, but once inside, the bedside tables and the table were filthy (see photo). In the bathroom, there’s a stale smell of old urine and sewage due to the worn-out toilet pipes (see photo), with minimal lighting. The showerhead is disgustingly dirty. The gray duvet is dirty and very old, as are the blankets, which are dusty and grimy. The Wi-Fi worked in the room the first day but not the next.
And finally, the worst part: the mattress is completely wrecked and sagging. The springs dig into your body. Horrible! Instead of repainting, they’d do better to change the mattresses.
As for meals, the prices are outrageous. This hotel relies on its old popularity, but it’s not worth 190 dirhams for this room. I’d say it’s barely worth over 100 dirhams. Since I’ve been in Morocco, I’ve stayed in palaces for 130 dirhams with breakfast.
So, my advice: don’t trust the reviews and avoid this place. You’ll find much better at the same price, as mentioned above.


I booked three nights on-site without a bathroom in room (No. 16). I had called the day before to check availability. The next day, they told me I couldn’t stay in that room on the third night but offered to move me to another room—even more run-down than this one—and without a bathroom. They claimed there had been a mistake and the room was already booked, which is completely false. I’ve been traveling for 20 years and can spot hoteliers’ tricks. The woman running the place checked all her online sites and her schedule before confirming the room was available. She was sure. Especially since they display the booking schedule in front of each room to avoid mistakes. So, a pure lie. For what reason?
For me, two options: either take the run-down room for cheaper without a bathroom or leave. Great customer service. I found another hotel, Safa, a bit further away, at the same price with breakfast—100 times more luxurious and comfortable than this place. Or just down on the beach, Hotel Aït Baamrane, same price or even negotiable, and still much more comfortable.
When I left in the morning, they barely said goodbye, not a word of apology, no gesture to make up for kicking me out. NOTHING, NADA!
The woman running the place, with her fake friendliness and hypocrisy, only cares about one thing: money.
Otherwise, the place could be great if it were properly maintained. Instead of repainting the balconies, they should replace the mattresses, which are completely wrecked. The only good thing about this hotel is its location above the sea.
Otherwise, Room No. 16 was recently repainted. Every time someone uses the water, there’s a huge noise from the pipes and vibrations. The walls are paper-thin (figuratively speaking)—when neighbors talked or coughed, it was like they were in the room with me.
I had to wait to check in because of cleaning, but once inside, the bedside tables and the table were filthy (see photo). In the bathroom, there’s a stale smell of old urine and sewage due to the worn-out toilet pipes (see photo), with minimal lighting. The showerhead is disgustingly dirty. The gray duvet is dirty and very old, as are the blankets, which are dusty and grimy. The Wi-Fi worked in the room the first day but not the next.
And finally, the worst part: the mattress is completely wrecked and sagging. The springs dig into your body. Horrible! Instead of repainting, they’d do better to change the mattresses.
As for meals, the prices are outrageous. This hotel relies on its old popularity, but it’s not worth 190 dirhams for this room. I’d say it’s barely worth over 100 dirhams. Since I’ve been in Morocco, I’ve stayed in palaces for 130 dirhams with breakfast.
So, my advice: don’t trust the reviews and avoid this place. You’ll find much better at the same price, as mentioned above.


Hi there,
Here’s my itinerary for a one-week self-drive trip in Morocco in March with family. Which direction should I take, please? - Start with Ouarzazate - Draa - M'Hamid - Tazarine - Merzouga, then return via the Dades road - Or the opposite: begin with Dades toward Merzouga, then head to M'Hamid via the southern route, and finish with the Draa Valley
Thanks! !
Here’s my itinerary for a one-week self-drive trip in Morocco in March with family. Which direction should I take, please? - Start with Ouarzazate - Draa - M'Hamid - Tazarine - Merzouga, then return via the Dades road - Or the opposite: begin with Dades toward Merzouga, then head to M'Hamid via the southern route, and finish with the Draa Valley
Thanks! !
Hi everyone,
We’re just back from a month-long trip to Morocco in our camper van.
After crossing France (we left from the Nantes area) and Spain, we arrived in Algeciras where we bought our boat tickets to Tangier. When we got to Tangier, as we were going through customs, you can imagine our surprise when the customs officer took our road map of Morocco and pointed out the label "Western Sahara" (just like in the forum’s destination section, by the way!).
He wanted it to say "Moroccan Sahara" instead!!! But there was nothing we could do—it was an old map... He wouldn’t listen, and after long discussions with the other (younger) customs officers, he finally gave it back and let us through... Unbelievable! Later, we heard that other travelers had their maps confiscated outright.
So, hide it well if you want to keep yours!!!
Anyway, we skirted around Tangier’s suburbs—pretty grim—and finally arrived in Asilah.
Following the coast and the long promenade along the beach, we reached the campsite. It was a bit crowded, not much shade, but it wasn’t far from the medina or the beach, and it wasn’t expensive. There’s some life here: Moroccan families seem to live on-site, in tents or basic bungalows. A woman was cooking tagine on a brazier—we were right in the atmosphere! The night was quiet, and we slept well. We set off on foot, walking along the seafront to the medina... We’d already been here in 2009. It was less touristy back then! Still, at this early hour, the little streets inside were very quiet. The walls had been freshly whitewashed, and there were even more murals than before. Around 11:30 AM, we strolled along the ramparts by the sea. There was a nice breeze! And a lot more people around. We enjoyed a milkshake on the terrace of a café overlooking the beach that stretches out at the foot of the medina. Some young guys were having fun diving off the rocks—and even off the top of the wall!



Anyway, we skirted around Tangier’s suburbs—pretty grim—and finally arrived in Asilah.
Following the coast and the long promenade along the beach, we reached the campsite. It was a bit crowded, not much shade, but it wasn’t far from the medina or the beach, and it wasn’t expensive. There’s some life here: Moroccan families seem to live on-site, in tents or basic bungalows. A woman was cooking tagine on a brazier—we were right in the atmosphere! The night was quiet, and we slept well. We set off on foot, walking along the seafront to the medina... We’d already been here in 2009. It was less touristy back then! Still, at this early hour, the little streets inside were very quiet. The walls had been freshly whitewashed, and there were even more murals than before. Around 11:30 AM, we strolled along the ramparts by the sea. There was a nice breeze! And a lot more people around. We enjoyed a milkshake on the terrace of a café overlooking the beach that stretches out at the foot of the medina. Some young guys were having fun diving off the rocks—and even off the top of the wall!



MOROCCO END 2024 / BEGINNING 2025
Off-season, I was lucky enough to negotiate hotel prices.
I should also mention that this was for a solo traveler until December 30th.
After that, there’ll be three of us!
Practical info.
Here’s all the info I gathered during my 3-month trip.
Cities: TANGIER / CHEFCHAOUEN / FES / MOULAY IDRISS, VOLUBILIS / AZROU / MIDELT /
ERRACHIDIA / RISSANI / MERZOUGA / TINGHIR / BOUMLANE DADES, AIT OUGLIF /
OUARZAZATE / TALIOUINE / TAROUDANT / TIZNIT / TAFRAOUT / SIDI IFNI, LEGZIRA /
AGADIR / ESSAOUIRA / MARRAKECH ///
From there, we’ll be three people. Cities: IMLIL / OUARZAZATE / AGDZ / ZAGORA / AIT BEN HADDOU / MARRAKECH / ESSAOUIRA / CASABLANCA. (Generally, I found that mattresses in Morocco were quite hard. My solution: I put two, even three folded blankets on the mattress to add some softness. Wi-Fi almost never works in the room.)
Tangier: Hôtel Fuentes Petit Socco, Old Medina +212 539 934 669 (For one person, end of October) Upon arrival, 19 € for a double room with a private bathroom. Breakfast included. Chefchaouen: Dar Besmellah Av Ibn Askar +212 539 986 489 (For one person, end of October). I don’t recommend it. A small, low-ceilinged room with a window facing a patio. Very dark and damp. Shared bathroom. 9 € Dar Bleu Pearl N° 4 Derb Benyaakoub +212 (0)539 88 28 86. Negotiated on-site to 130 MAD instead of 160 on Booking. Small room, furniture, Wi-Fi, private bathroom. Fes: Riad Alfredo or Riad Rocco—it’s the same place. It’s in a very narrow alley. N° 15 Derb Sidi Kjih or Qjih Talla Sagira +212 662 769 688 (see photos and virtual tour) Negotiated to 13 € on-site; on Booking, it was 16 €. Breakfast included. Atypical Anne room with private bathroom, Wi-Fi. The room is a bit dark. One of the best beds on my trip. Again, this was for a solo traveler off-season (end of October to end of December). Moulay Idriss: Gite El Menzeh (see the map) Negotiated on-site to 14 € with breakfast; on Booking, it was 24 €. I also negotiated for dinner—very good and hearty—for 5 € (the manager wanted 20 €). I stayed in the large upstairs room with a double bed, window, and private bathroom, not the tiny windowless rooms downstairs. Azrou: Hôtel des Cèdres Place Mohamed V. (see the map and photos) Negotiated 13 € instead of 16 € on Booking for a room with two small beds and a private bathroom. This hotel is honestly run-down and not worth the price at all. The owner thinks it’s a very classy hotel because of its old reputation! Midelt: Chez Ali, city center (see map) Negotiated to 14 € instead of 17 € on Booking. Room with two beds, bathroom, window, small terrace, and Wi-Fi. Er Rachidia: Hôtel El Fekri. Rue Moulay Abdalah Ben Ali (see map and photos) Couldn’t negotiate on-site—14 €, but on Booking, it was 5 € more! Rissani: Hôtel Restaurant Panorama +212 615 978 445 Well, I’d say skip it. Rooms without windows and shared bathrooms. Or on the terrace, there’s a sort of space with a big bed and a small bed behind a locked iron door with a window and an external bathroom that’s also used by people eating on the terrace. If there are people on the terrace, forget about privacy! Not to mention the internet doesn’t work, and the bed is as hard as a straw mat. All that for 150 MAD—luckily, I didn’t book through Booking, or it would’ve been more expensive!!! I didn’t stay. This closet isn’t even worth 100 MAD—and even that’s too much! A little further on, I went to a hotel where no one spoke English or anything else. I got a large room with 3 beds, a private bathroom, and Wi-Fi for 100 MAD. Merzouga: Said’s apartment +212 618 659 264. No real address—it’s right next to a souvenir shop, far from the center. (see photos) 15 €. The apartment is large with two bedrooms and all the comforts. But for me, it was too far from the village. Chez Belkecem: Marked on GPS. I don’t have any coordinates (see photos). +212 666 911 732 Negotiated on-site to 13 € with breakfast; on Booking, it was 2 € more. The room is decorated in a Berber style, with a private bathroom and a window to the outside. The worst breakfast I had in Morocco! Tinghir: Dar Al Medina Av Mohamed V (see map) Beautiful hotel negotiated to 13 € instead of 18 € on Booking. Breakfast included, Wi-Fi, room with a double bed and a single bed, window, and private bathroom. (Top floor) Boumlane Dades: Auberge Tamazirt (no contact) see GPS. Negotiated to 13 € with breakfast. It’s rustic, but I had a private bathroom, a large bed, Wi-Fi, a window, and a double bed. And the best part—the super-friendly owner gave me one of the gas heaters from the hallway. Aït Ouglif: Hôtel Aït Marghad. (See the map) Negotiated to 150 MAD instead of 240 MAD with breakfast. The place was half-closed because it was off-season. Room with a double bed on the ground floor, window, Wi-Fi, and bathroom. Heating provided—essential. The hassle was that there was almost no hot water. Ouarzazate: Hôtel Atlas 13 rue du marché +212 524 887 745 It’s on the pedestrian street. (See photos) Negotiated to 13 €. Old-fashioned room, double bed with a very hard mattress. Private bathroom, window, and Wi-Fi. Taliouine: Hôtel Le Safran. A 20-minute walk from the center—no other choice. Otherwise, there are a few local hotels, but even if I’m not always picky, there are limits. (See the map) Negotiated from 300 MAD to 200 MAD. Breakfast, Wi-Fi, window, king-size bed, private bathroom. The room is large (No. 11). (There’s a pool in the hotel.) Hôtel Atlas Bordeaux: +212 666 752 292 (next to the bus station) Usually, I’m not too picky, but honestly, skip this one. This place could be good because it’s central if: the cleaning was thorough. The bathrooms need to be redone... etc. No sheets—just a sort of blanket on the mattress and another to cover yourself. Obviously not clean. No towel. A bathroom that hasn’t been cleaned in way too long. In short, absolutely avoid. 120 MAD! Taroudant: Hôtel (mini) Atlas Bld Mansour Eddahbi (see map and photos) Double room with window, large bed, private bathroom, Wi-Fi (not great). A hotel that doesn’t look like much but is sparkling clean! 90 MAD for a single, 120 MAD for a double. Tiznit: Résidence Chem (see map) 100 MAD for a room with two single beds (very hard), window, private bathroom, and Wi-Fi. Clean but poorly maintained. Tafraout: Espace Tifawine (see the map). Hotel with a pool. Negotiated to 14 € on-site instead of 30 € on Booking. I could even choose my room. A large room with two beds—one big and one small. A large bathroom, a window, and Wi-Fi. Sidi Ifni: Hôtel Suerte Loca. (No contact, see GPS) I paid 140 MAD for a room in this dive—no negotiation possible. My room had a tiny terrace, the walls were repainted, but it’s super noisy (neighbors). Worse, when someone uses the water, there’s a loud machinery noise. That’s not all—the mattress is really worn out and sagging. The bathroom isn’t great. The Wi-Fi doesn’t work! This place still enjoys its old reputation, but it’s really run-down, and everything is old. The bedding is the worst I had in Morocco. Skip it. There’s much better for cheaper elsewhere! Hôtel La Belle Vue: Just before Suerte Loca +212 528 875 242 The reception staff was more than unfriendly. After seeing the rooms, I didn’t stay because the bedding would’ve been like sleeping on a yoga mat. Obviously not worth the 200 MAD asked for. Hôtel Aït Baamrane. Further down on the beach. Same price as above. The only difference is that everything is in good condition and comfortable, with a warm welcome.
Hôtel Safa: (see the map and photos.) On-site, no negotiation possible—200 MAD; on Booking, it was over 350 MAD. Huge room with all the luxury you could hope for. Breakfast included, large bay window, king-size bed, TV, Wi-Fi, furniture, and of course, a private bathroom. Agadir: Hôtel Kamal (see map) The only hotel I booked through Booking because there was a good discount. Except on-site, the hotel never wanted to give me the discount. At night, small insects that strongly resemble cockroaches—yet it’s high-end with doormen, etc. I contacted Booking, but nothing worked! I paid 250 MAD! Essaouira: Hôtel Elkasbah Souiria (See map and photo) Small room (No. 18) with a single bed and all the comforts. Private bathroom, window, Wi-Fi, and breakfast included (all-you-can-eat buffet). No negotiation possible—200 MAD. Chez Lina: Rue El Khemiset +212 658 042 562 (she speaks French) Large apartment with two bedrooms. Private bathroom on the landing. Wi-Fi. New, so not yet well set up. Far from the center. I paid 15 € instead of 18 € on Booking. Marrakech: Hôtel Atlas 50 rue Sidi Bouloukate +212 661 358 662 Tiny room on the ground floor with a shared bathroom. Wi-Fi, tiny window, very dark and noisy. 12 €
On December 31st, I’m joined by friends. The rooms will be for three people. Marrakech: Hôtel Agnaou 10 avenue or passage Moulay Rachid. +212 705 306 275. Negotiated on-site to 28 € for a room with a window to the outside and a private bathroom. Wi-Fi. Riad Todos: in the old medina +34 643 480 502 Watch out for extra taxes they might try to charge you. No heating. This place could be nice if better maintained. Bad smell of cat urine. Water leak in the bathroom. Wall crumbling from humidity. However, the reception staff is warm and tries to satisfy you. 120 MAD booked on Airbnb! Imlil: Auberge de la Vallée (see map) Large room with 4 beds. All comforts. Private bathroom, heating, Wi-Fi, and breakfast. Negotiated on-site to 300 MAD for three people. Ouarzazate: Hôtel Iazal: Av. Moulay Abdellah +212 524 886 187 (see photos) Very expensive for this hotel. Small room for 3 with a tiny, impractical bathroom. Heating, Wi-Fi, window. The showerhead is placed between the tiny sink and the toilet. The small space floods quickly. Far from the pedestrian center. No negotiation possible—350 MAD for three. Agdz: Guesthouse Le Chant des Palmiers. (See map) Very nice room—more like a small apartment with a fireplace corner, gas heating, private bathroom, Wi-Fi, windows, bedroom area plus two single beds. Breakfast included. Negotiated to 400 MAD for 3 people instead of 840 MAD on Booking. Zagora: Hôtel La Palmeraie. (See map) Room with bathroom, Wi-Fi (not great), heating, and window. Breakfast included. No negotiation—300 MAD (for 3). Aït Ben Haddou: Auberge La Barraka (see the map) Large, beautiful room with windows, Wi-Fi, heating, bathroom. Breakfast included. Pool. Negotiate a good price—but I didn’t note it down. (Around mid-January) Essaouira: El Kasbah Souiria. (See above) Room for three. Same benefits. No negotiation. 500 MAD. Casablanca: 664, Résidence Clémentine BD Mohamed V, Roches Noires. +33 6681 48002 Large, upscale apartment. Not far from Casa Voyageurs train station. Booked on Booking. 45 € (Last day, January 16th). Upon arrival, the price is always a few euros cheaper than on Booking—except in rare cases. Then, negotiation is possible or not! Prices vary depending on the season.
A few good places (for me) to eat.
Fes: Chez Hakim. (See map) Very good, hearty, and almost cheaper than anywhere else in the medina. Ouarzazate: Pasto wood-fired oven Place Al-Mouahidine +212 696 484 281 It had been a long time since I’d eaten such a good pizza (better than in most restaurants in France). At a price that beats all competition! Midelt: Berber Restaurant. (See map and photos) A dive that doesn’t look like much but is delicious at a more than affordable price. Marrakech: Dar EL WALIDIN Raid laahrouse, Rte Sidi Abdelaziz +212 653 493 637 Great selection, good food, and also cheap!
(At Jemaa el-Fnaa square. Under the warm welcome at restaurant « Chez Ali N° 65 », we got scammed out of 7 € when paying the bill! Experts at swindling.) Azrou: Snack La Forêt (see map) Again, good food at a low price. Merzouga: Snack Alafrah VOLUBILIS: The price has gone up to 100 MAD. Honestly, if you’re not an archaeology buff, it’s not worth it! BANKS: The best exchange rate I got was at BMCI. For ATMs, I paid the least fees at Banque Populaire. TRANSPORTATION:
Airport taxi Tangier to Petit Socco: 100 MAD Train: Fes to Meknès Al Amir: 35 MAD Casablanca to Airport: 60 MAD
Grand Taxis: (Shared taxi for 7 people that only leaves when full. I never waited more than 15 minutes to leave. There’s good turnover, and the vehicles are in good condition. They go faster than buses and are almost always cheaper. Prices are fixed, and you don’t pay the driver but the station chief!)
Meknès to Moulay Idriss: 12 MAD Moulay Idriss to Azrou: 35 MAD Midelt to Errachidia: 60 MAD Errachidia to Rissani: 40 MAD (I preferred this option rather than leaving at night or very early in the morning from Errachidia to Merzouga with Supratour, the only company that goes to Merzouga.) Rissani to Merzouga: 15 MAD Taliouine to Taroudant: 45 MAD (The bus is cheaper but takes longer) Taroudant to Inezgane: 35 MAD (Agadir suburb) I connected directly to Tiznit. Inezgane to Tiznit: 35 MAD Tiznit to Tafraout: 45 MAD (2-hour trip) Tiznit to Sidi Ifni: 35 MAD Agadir to Essaouira: 100 MAD Essaouira to Marrakech: 100 MAD Imlil to Marrakech: 35 MAD Grand taxi for three to Imlil: 220 MAD BUS: Tangier to Chefchaouen: 65 + 5 MAD baggage CTM Chefchaouen to Fes: 135 + 5 MAD CTM Azrou to Midelt: 50 MAD local bus Merzouga to Tinghir: 110 + 5 MAD Supratour Tinghir to Boumlane Dades: 30 + 5 MAD Supratour Boumlane Dades to Ouarzazate: 30 MAD minibus Ouarzazate to Taliouine: 60 MAD Satas company Sidi Ifni to Agadir: 95 + 5 MAD CTM Agadir to Essaouira: 70 MAD Trans Al Yamama Essaouira to Marrakech: 65 MAD Argana company Marrakech to Essaouira: 60 + 5 MAD Virago Mogador company Essaouira to Casablanca: 100 + 5 MAD
Sidi Ifni: To go to Legzira, there are green shared buses that leave every 2 hours for 6 MAD. Petit Taxis: You have to negotiate hard—the price can double. Example: In Fes, they asked me for 50 MAD from the bus station to the Blue Gate. By walking a bit further and being patient, I got a taxi for 20 MAD! Another example: From Agadir’s bus station, they asked for 40 MAD to go to Hôtel Kamal. In the end, I paid 15 MAD! Here’s all the practical info I gathered during my trip to Morocco from late October to mid-January. It’s up to you to see if it’s useful or not.

From there, we’ll be three people. Cities: IMLIL / OUARZAZATE / AGDZ / ZAGORA / AIT BEN HADDOU / MARRAKECH / ESSAOUIRA / CASABLANCA. (Generally, I found that mattresses in Morocco were quite hard. My solution: I put two, even three folded blankets on the mattress to add some softness. Wi-Fi almost never works in the room.)
Tangier: Hôtel Fuentes Petit Socco, Old Medina +212 539 934 669 (For one person, end of October) Upon arrival, 19 € for a double room with a private bathroom. Breakfast included. Chefchaouen: Dar Besmellah Av Ibn Askar +212 539 986 489 (For one person, end of October). I don’t recommend it. A small, low-ceilinged room with a window facing a patio. Very dark and damp. Shared bathroom. 9 € Dar Bleu Pearl N° 4 Derb Benyaakoub +212 (0)539 88 28 86. Negotiated on-site to 130 MAD instead of 160 on Booking. Small room, furniture, Wi-Fi, private bathroom. Fes: Riad Alfredo or Riad Rocco—it’s the same place. It’s in a very narrow alley. N° 15 Derb Sidi Kjih or Qjih Talla Sagira +212 662 769 688 (see photos and virtual tour) Negotiated to 13 € on-site; on Booking, it was 16 €. Breakfast included. Atypical Anne room with private bathroom, Wi-Fi. The room is a bit dark. One of the best beds on my trip. Again, this was for a solo traveler off-season (end of October to end of December). Moulay Idriss: Gite El Menzeh (see the map) Negotiated on-site to 14 € with breakfast; on Booking, it was 24 €. I also negotiated for dinner—very good and hearty—for 5 € (the manager wanted 20 €). I stayed in the large upstairs room with a double bed, window, and private bathroom, not the tiny windowless rooms downstairs. Azrou: Hôtel des Cèdres Place Mohamed V. (see the map and photos) Negotiated 13 € instead of 16 € on Booking for a room with two small beds and a private bathroom. This hotel is honestly run-down and not worth the price at all. The owner thinks it’s a very classy hotel because of its old reputation! Midelt: Chez Ali, city center (see map) Negotiated to 14 € instead of 17 € on Booking. Room with two beds, bathroom, window, small terrace, and Wi-Fi. Er Rachidia: Hôtel El Fekri. Rue Moulay Abdalah Ben Ali (see map and photos) Couldn’t negotiate on-site—14 €, but on Booking, it was 5 € more! Rissani: Hôtel Restaurant Panorama +212 615 978 445 Well, I’d say skip it. Rooms without windows and shared bathrooms. Or on the terrace, there’s a sort of space with a big bed and a small bed behind a locked iron door with a window and an external bathroom that’s also used by people eating on the terrace. If there are people on the terrace, forget about privacy! Not to mention the internet doesn’t work, and the bed is as hard as a straw mat. All that for 150 MAD—luckily, I didn’t book through Booking, or it would’ve been more expensive!!! I didn’t stay. This closet isn’t even worth 100 MAD—and even that’s too much! A little further on, I went to a hotel where no one spoke English or anything else. I got a large room with 3 beds, a private bathroom, and Wi-Fi for 100 MAD. Merzouga: Said’s apartment +212 618 659 264. No real address—it’s right next to a souvenir shop, far from the center. (see photos) 15 €. The apartment is large with two bedrooms and all the comforts. But for me, it was too far from the village. Chez Belkecem: Marked on GPS. I don’t have any coordinates (see photos). +212 666 911 732 Negotiated on-site to 13 € with breakfast; on Booking, it was 2 € more. The room is decorated in a Berber style, with a private bathroom and a window to the outside. The worst breakfast I had in Morocco! Tinghir: Dar Al Medina Av Mohamed V (see map) Beautiful hotel negotiated to 13 € instead of 18 € on Booking. Breakfast included, Wi-Fi, room with a double bed and a single bed, window, and private bathroom. (Top floor) Boumlane Dades: Auberge Tamazirt (no contact) see GPS. Negotiated to 13 € with breakfast. It’s rustic, but I had a private bathroom, a large bed, Wi-Fi, a window, and a double bed. And the best part—the super-friendly owner gave me one of the gas heaters from the hallway. Aït Ouglif: Hôtel Aït Marghad. (See the map) Negotiated to 150 MAD instead of 240 MAD with breakfast. The place was half-closed because it was off-season. Room with a double bed on the ground floor, window, Wi-Fi, and bathroom. Heating provided—essential. The hassle was that there was almost no hot water. Ouarzazate: Hôtel Atlas 13 rue du marché +212 524 887 745 It’s on the pedestrian street. (See photos) Negotiated to 13 €. Old-fashioned room, double bed with a very hard mattress. Private bathroom, window, and Wi-Fi. Taliouine: Hôtel Le Safran. A 20-minute walk from the center—no other choice. Otherwise, there are a few local hotels, but even if I’m not always picky, there are limits. (See the map) Negotiated from 300 MAD to 200 MAD. Breakfast, Wi-Fi, window, king-size bed, private bathroom. The room is large (No. 11). (There’s a pool in the hotel.) Hôtel Atlas Bordeaux: +212 666 752 292 (next to the bus station) Usually, I’m not too picky, but honestly, skip this one. This place could be good because it’s central if: the cleaning was thorough. The bathrooms need to be redone... etc. No sheets—just a sort of blanket on the mattress and another to cover yourself. Obviously not clean. No towel. A bathroom that hasn’t been cleaned in way too long. In short, absolutely avoid. 120 MAD! Taroudant: Hôtel (mini) Atlas Bld Mansour Eddahbi (see map and photos) Double room with window, large bed, private bathroom, Wi-Fi (not great). A hotel that doesn’t look like much but is sparkling clean! 90 MAD for a single, 120 MAD for a double. Tiznit: Résidence Chem (see map) 100 MAD for a room with two single beds (very hard), window, private bathroom, and Wi-Fi. Clean but poorly maintained. Tafraout: Espace Tifawine (see the map). Hotel with a pool. Negotiated to 14 € on-site instead of 30 € on Booking. I could even choose my room. A large room with two beds—one big and one small. A large bathroom, a window, and Wi-Fi. Sidi Ifni: Hôtel Suerte Loca. (No contact, see GPS) I paid 140 MAD for a room in this dive—no negotiation possible. My room had a tiny terrace, the walls were repainted, but it’s super noisy (neighbors). Worse, when someone uses the water, there’s a loud machinery noise. That’s not all—the mattress is really worn out and sagging. The bathroom isn’t great. The Wi-Fi doesn’t work! This place still enjoys its old reputation, but it’s really run-down, and everything is old. The bedding is the worst I had in Morocco. Skip it. There’s much better for cheaper elsewhere! Hôtel La Belle Vue: Just before Suerte Loca +212 528 875 242 The reception staff was more than unfriendly. After seeing the rooms, I didn’t stay because the bedding would’ve been like sleeping on a yoga mat. Obviously not worth the 200 MAD asked for. Hôtel Aït Baamrane. Further down on the beach. Same price as above. The only difference is that everything is in good condition and comfortable, with a warm welcome.
Hôtel Safa: (see the map and photos.) On-site, no negotiation possible—200 MAD; on Booking, it was over 350 MAD. Huge room with all the luxury you could hope for. Breakfast included, large bay window, king-size bed, TV, Wi-Fi, furniture, and of course, a private bathroom. Agadir: Hôtel Kamal (see map) The only hotel I booked through Booking because there was a good discount. Except on-site, the hotel never wanted to give me the discount. At night, small insects that strongly resemble cockroaches—yet it’s high-end with doormen, etc. I contacted Booking, but nothing worked! I paid 250 MAD! Essaouira: Hôtel Elkasbah Souiria (See map and photo) Small room (No. 18) with a single bed and all the comforts. Private bathroom, window, Wi-Fi, and breakfast included (all-you-can-eat buffet). No negotiation possible—200 MAD. Chez Lina: Rue El Khemiset +212 658 042 562 (she speaks French) Large apartment with two bedrooms. Private bathroom on the landing. Wi-Fi. New, so not yet well set up. Far from the center. I paid 15 € instead of 18 € on Booking. Marrakech: Hôtel Atlas 50 rue Sidi Bouloukate +212 661 358 662 Tiny room on the ground floor with a shared bathroom. Wi-Fi, tiny window, very dark and noisy. 12 €
On December 31st, I’m joined by friends. The rooms will be for three people. Marrakech: Hôtel Agnaou 10 avenue or passage Moulay Rachid. +212 705 306 275. Negotiated on-site to 28 € for a room with a window to the outside and a private bathroom. Wi-Fi. Riad Todos: in the old medina +34 643 480 502 Watch out for extra taxes they might try to charge you. No heating. This place could be nice if better maintained. Bad smell of cat urine. Water leak in the bathroom. Wall crumbling from humidity. However, the reception staff is warm and tries to satisfy you. 120 MAD booked on Airbnb! Imlil: Auberge de la Vallée (see map) Large room with 4 beds. All comforts. Private bathroom, heating, Wi-Fi, and breakfast. Negotiated on-site to 300 MAD for three people. Ouarzazate: Hôtel Iazal: Av. Moulay Abdellah +212 524 886 187 (see photos) Very expensive for this hotel. Small room for 3 with a tiny, impractical bathroom. Heating, Wi-Fi, window. The showerhead is placed between the tiny sink and the toilet. The small space floods quickly. Far from the pedestrian center. No negotiation possible—350 MAD for three. Agdz: Guesthouse Le Chant des Palmiers. (See map) Very nice room—more like a small apartment with a fireplace corner, gas heating, private bathroom, Wi-Fi, windows, bedroom area plus two single beds. Breakfast included. Negotiated to 400 MAD for 3 people instead of 840 MAD on Booking. Zagora: Hôtel La Palmeraie. (See map) Room with bathroom, Wi-Fi (not great), heating, and window. Breakfast included. No negotiation—300 MAD (for 3). Aït Ben Haddou: Auberge La Barraka (see the map) Large, beautiful room with windows, Wi-Fi, heating, bathroom. Breakfast included. Pool. Negotiate a good price—but I didn’t note it down. (Around mid-January) Essaouira: El Kasbah Souiria. (See above) Room for three. Same benefits. No negotiation. 500 MAD. Casablanca: 664, Résidence Clémentine BD Mohamed V, Roches Noires. +33 6681 48002 Large, upscale apartment. Not far from Casa Voyageurs train station. Booked on Booking. 45 € (Last day, January 16th). Upon arrival, the price is always a few euros cheaper than on Booking—except in rare cases. Then, negotiation is possible or not! Prices vary depending on the season.
A few good places (for me) to eat.
Fes: Chez Hakim. (See map) Very good, hearty, and almost cheaper than anywhere else in the medina. Ouarzazate: Pasto wood-fired oven Place Al-Mouahidine +212 696 484 281 It had been a long time since I’d eaten such a good pizza (better than in most restaurants in France). At a price that beats all competition! Midelt: Berber Restaurant. (See map and photos) A dive that doesn’t look like much but is delicious at a more than affordable price. Marrakech: Dar EL WALIDIN Raid laahrouse, Rte Sidi Abdelaziz +212 653 493 637 Great selection, good food, and also cheap!
(At Jemaa el-Fnaa square. Under the warm welcome at restaurant « Chez Ali N° 65 », we got scammed out of 7 € when paying the bill! Experts at swindling.) Azrou: Snack La Forêt (see map) Again, good food at a low price. Merzouga: Snack Alafrah VOLUBILIS: The price has gone up to 100 MAD. Honestly, if you’re not an archaeology buff, it’s not worth it! BANKS: The best exchange rate I got was at BMCI. For ATMs, I paid the least fees at Banque Populaire. TRANSPORTATION:
Airport taxi Tangier to Petit Socco: 100 MAD Train: Fes to Meknès Al Amir: 35 MAD Casablanca to Airport: 60 MAD
Grand Taxis: (Shared taxi for 7 people that only leaves when full. I never waited more than 15 minutes to leave. There’s good turnover, and the vehicles are in good condition. They go faster than buses and are almost always cheaper. Prices are fixed, and you don’t pay the driver but the station chief!)
Meknès to Moulay Idriss: 12 MAD Moulay Idriss to Azrou: 35 MAD Midelt to Errachidia: 60 MAD Errachidia to Rissani: 40 MAD (I preferred this option rather than leaving at night or very early in the morning from Errachidia to Merzouga with Supratour, the only company that goes to Merzouga.) Rissani to Merzouga: 15 MAD Taliouine to Taroudant: 45 MAD (The bus is cheaper but takes longer) Taroudant to Inezgane: 35 MAD (Agadir suburb) I connected directly to Tiznit. Inezgane to Tiznit: 35 MAD Tiznit to Tafraout: 45 MAD (2-hour trip) Tiznit to Sidi Ifni: 35 MAD Agadir to Essaouira: 100 MAD Essaouira to Marrakech: 100 MAD Imlil to Marrakech: 35 MAD Grand taxi for three to Imlil: 220 MAD BUS: Tangier to Chefchaouen: 65 + 5 MAD baggage CTM Chefchaouen to Fes: 135 + 5 MAD CTM Azrou to Midelt: 50 MAD local bus Merzouga to Tinghir: 110 + 5 MAD Supratour Tinghir to Boumlane Dades: 30 + 5 MAD Supratour Boumlane Dades to Ouarzazate: 30 MAD minibus Ouarzazate to Taliouine: 60 MAD Satas company Sidi Ifni to Agadir: 95 + 5 MAD CTM Agadir to Essaouira: 70 MAD Trans Al Yamama Essaouira to Marrakech: 65 MAD Argana company Marrakech to Essaouira: 60 + 5 MAD Virago Mogador company Essaouira to Casablanca: 100 + 5 MAD
Sidi Ifni: To go to Legzira, there are green shared buses that leave every 2 hours for 6 MAD. Petit Taxis: You have to negotiate hard—the price can double. Example: In Fes, they asked me for 50 MAD from the bus station to the Blue Gate. By walking a bit further and being patient, I got a taxi for 20 MAD! Another example: From Agadir’s bus station, they asked for 40 MAD to go to Hôtel Kamal. In the end, I paid 15 MAD! Here’s all the practical info I gathered during my trip to Morocco from late October to mid-January. It’s up to you to see if it’s useful or not.

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 :)
The story of a trip to Morocco, from the first to the last day—otherwise, it wouldn’t have made sense...
Marrakech... then four days on foot in the desert, alone with a guide, a camel driver, and two dromedaries... and Marrakech again.
Everything mattered, even the smallest details, so this is a (very) long story.
Behind the descriptions and anecdotes, there’s emotion, intimacy, and... soul-searching.
All the things it’s strangely easier to share this way, all the things it’s strangely easier to share with people you don’t know...
I have beautiful images in my eyes, but only a few are visible—if you read carefully, you’ll understand why.
The other photos are imagined, created upon returning with souvenirs and a bit of staging.
But everything is authentic.

Since I’ve been back, sometimes at night I open my eyes and don’t know where I am... Sleepless night, starry night, night of communion, connected night... In that suspended moment, between wakefulness and sleep, which makes you so receptive... Communion with whom? Connected to what? Lila gnawa... lila de derdeba.
The desert, a solitary path. You step in, and you’re immediately in the essential...
Wednesday... My companion drops me off at Orly Ouest... There are two hours before boarding. My MP3 player turns on but that’s it. It freezes—no commands work, and nothing fixes it... Smile... A trip without music, then? And the first anchor falls away.
(Photo...) ... Passport, tickets, receipts, labels...
Nose pressed to the window for the entire flight... Descending over Marrakech, at low altitude, a pretty mosaic—shades of pink and ochre dotted with green, but also, to the right, less harmonious, aligned cubes. Housing developments under construction? A bumpy, turbulent landing—the plane circles for a long time before touching down.
Welcomed by the familiar, unchanged sound of creaking doors and seats in the little taxis. In Casablanca, it was red Simca 1000s with meters; here, they’re yellow, and you have to negotiate the price. I have no talent for that, so here’s 100 DH!
Traversed and forgotten
Marrakech... Sunny, luminous, sensual. Torn between tradition and modernity... Shimmering and fragrant, very noisy... rather polluted? On the road, horses and donkeys still mingle with vehicles... and watch out for traffic when crossing! It’s always a strategic—and athletic—adventure: at what exact moment do you sprint to the opposite sidewalk? And why aren’t any street names marked?
Afternoon on foot, heading to the Bab Doukkala bus station... A landmark: the McDonald’s, then a square with a fountain. Then turn left onto Avenue Hassan II. There’s a bus to Zagora Friday morning, but I can only buy the ticket tomorrow. On the way back to the hotel, at a kiosk on the corner, I buy *Tel Quel*, which I read with great interest online.
Thursday... Early morning, walking to Place Jemaa el-Fna, calm and almost deserted... I don’t get a good deal buying two small daggers for my kids. No talent for haggling—it takes more than charm for that... So I’ll pick the rest of my gifts at the artisan center on Avenue Mohammed V, where prices are marked, and it’s a pleasure to watch the craftsmen work... For my daughter, a satchel and earrings. The satchel smells like goat. The earrings are hand-chiseled in front of me by a very young man with nimble fingers—marvels of delicacy and fragility. Then I linger for a long time in the souk alleys. Scents of leather, thuya and cedar wood, wool and copper... Familiar smells... Childhood memories...
Dear daggers
Earrings
Back at the bus station, an unexpected change: no bus Friday morning, but a departure tonight at 8:30 PM... I have a little time before packing, so I take a long detour: Boulevard de Safi, then right onto Avenue El Mansour to the Majorelle Garden... A quiet pause. Rare plants, all kinds of cacti—smooth, fuzzy, bristling with spines... strange, squat, or stretched-out shapes. An infinite variety of greens, and that famous blue... The song of birds, the sun and shadows playing in the water basins... Time flows lazily. I write postcards—they’ll arrive long after I’m back...

Back to the hotel. Avenue El Mansour, Boulevard Zerktouni—okay, but why are the small street names never marked?!! I get a little lost...
I hope you got my MMS, because before leaving, I left something for you at the front desk...
8 PM, night has already fallen. Arriving at the bus station, and then... Then, a step back... A dense crowd, a tangle of buses... Where to go?... Rare woman, lone foreigner, backpack... I’m quickly spotted, surrounded, poorly guided... Someone with a badge finally points me to the right sidewalk. The bus isn’t there, and the sidewalk is already packed, mostly with men. Will I even get a seat?... Three young men are particularly insistent... They want to know where I’m going and why, if someone is with me, if I’m expected... I answer with a smile. A bit tricky—choosing words, staying polite while evasive... Their French is hesitant, my Arabic is more than rudimentary... Actually, I shouldn’t have tried... Their tone becomes a bit... aggressive, and their eyes light up. Uh-oh... They say they’re students, but what of?... Want to know what I think of the Quran and Allah, what I think of holy war, if I’m "for the Americans," "for the Palestinians"... Other travelers intervene... And the bus still isn’t here... The speech turns fanatical... Then, my smile freezes a little... A small wave of panic, so I send a "freaked out" MMS... (But who else could I send it to?) Then, in this dark crowd, a light dressed in white... Nabila, a young student heading to Zagora for vacation, she speaks French... She plants herself in front of them and scolds them thoroughly. I didn’t catch everything, but it worked! The three troublemakers retreat. Plus, they weren’t on the right sidewalk, and their bus is about to leave without them...
Nabila and I manage to board and sit side by side... The bus leaves two hours late. The trip is long, a bit uncomfortable, slowed by many stops—it was very cold...
Friday... A little stiff, a little dazzled, a little chilled, arriving in Zagora at dawn with the sunrise... Magical! Craving something warm... And then, a heartfelt gift—kindness and hospitality—Nabila invites me to her home. Warm welcome from her mother and siblings, not at all surprised to see me show up so early to share their breakfast! A few hours in their company... We exchange addresses, and the youngest brother, Nouamare, gives me a children’s storybook...
Noon, at *La Fibule du Draa* Lahcen Sarti, the owner... I finally put a smile and a face to an email exchange... He shows me the trek route on the map, laughs when I tell him about my night on the bus, and sends me to rest by the pool... No swimsuit, so a lounge chair and a book... A book that will accompany me into the desert and which I’ll finish in Marrakech, in the Koutoubia Garden...

Saturday, Day 1... When I wake up this morning, I know the desert sand will also absorb my blood...
Early departure for four days and three nights, alone, as I wished, with a young guide, Mohammed, and a younger camel driver, Abdou. We’ll be together 24/7, and we won’t see a soul until we reach the fixed campsite on the third evening. Everything we need is loaded onto two dromedaries. And in those baskets, there are miracles—a *Prévert*-style inventory I’ll discover bit by bit, like... a tray for glasses, a basket for bread, a sugar loaf and small glasses for tea, but... large glasses and sugar cubes for coffee, spices, oranges, vegetables, raw eggs!... That won’t break, *La Vache qui Rit*... And so many other unexpected wonders, so surprising in the middle of the desert... (*La Vache qui Rit* is the desert butter. Every morning for breakfast, it was coffee with Nido powdered milk and *kesra* with *La Vache qui Rit* and Aïcha apricot jam... A delight.)

Start of the journey, and the beginning of a long, long walk... We’ll cover 80 km in three days, crossing all kinds of landscapes until the real desert of sand and dunes... I’ll drink water from wells, eat raw vegetables, sleep on a mattress that saddles the dromedaries by day... I’ll forget all the warnings and all my hygiene references... My body will quiet its complaints. No heat, no thirst, no fatigue, no trouble of any kind... just woken by the cold every morning around 6 AM... I take off my watch. Like my companions, I’ll live by the sun’s rhythm...
Abdou leads the dromedaries, so he walks at their pace. Sometimes, we’re grouped together. Sometimes the two guides are together, and I walk behind. Sometimes we talk. Nothing is forced, no discomfort. It’s a simple, harmonious dance—one foot in front of the other, following your shadow as it turns with the sun... Each step leaves behind the useless, the cumbersome, the superfluous... Room for intimacy... Room for silence... Room for the inner self... Facing yourself... I find seashells, and with my eyes closed, I smell the sea...
... One foot in front of the other...
I take out my camera... Capacity for a hundred shots, but it’ll be 10 photos, no more. It freezes—no commands work, and nothing fixes it... Smile... A trip without photos, then? And the second anchor falls... I think of my MP3 player...
... A few photos among the ten...
Noon... Unsaddling the dromedaries, which immediately wander off in search of food. And before the meal cooked by Mohammed, the mint tea ritual, prepared by Abdou in a tiny teapot... Thick, frothy, very sweet tea... He serves it on a tray with dates, peanuts, and raisins... And it’ll be like this every day, noon and night...
We gradually get to know each other... Mohammed, 25 years old... Calm, very introspective, almost ascetic, he knows the desert well and loves it... So at ease that he’ll walk in slippers or barefoot, no matter the terrain... When I’m behind him, the advertisement on the back of his sweatshirt makes me smile... There’s a date: January 8, 2003... A little wink from life? (I have a clear memory of that day.) Abdou, barely 20, with a round, jovial face. The mint tea master... When he hands me my glass, he says "Bismillah," and I respond in kind... A joker and a foodie. Thrilled that I only eat vegetables, he’ll have double the meat!
... Abdou and his teapot...
... Mohammed...
Late afternoon, a well... Abdou waters the dromedaries, and Mohammed fills the canteens. The caps aren’t watertight, so he wedges a piece of plastic bag found in one of the baskets and screws it on top... Forget all hygiene warnings...
First night in a tent at the foot of Jebel Baní...
... Jebel
Sunday, Day 2... Crossing and ascending Jebel Baní... A mineral, lunar landscape—rocks the color of burnt bread and anthracite gray. I pick up pretty pebbles, and Mohammed finds me a fossilized stone... Lunch in a deserted nomad oasis... When we resume our walk, the wind picks up. A wind that only blows in April, violent, terrible—the *Sahli*... Swirls of sand and gravel. Where’s the sky, where’s the earth... everything is dust, everything is yellow and opaque... The gusts are so strong they make us stagger. At times, we even have to crouch to avoid falling. In the acacia forest, Abdou and the dromedaries are only a few meters ahead, yet we can’t see them... We’ll later learn that on that day, planned excursions were canceled... That a group got lost and had to be picked up by 4x4... But Mohammed has a sense of the desert. He’s calm, he guides us... so we continue, and I trust him. He wraps a *chèche* around my head—a fragile barrier against these onslaughts... We have to keep moving, and it’s difficult... But the desert has accepted me, so without resistance, I accept it... And the sand gets everywhere... in my mouth, crunching between my teeth, in my eyes, ears, and nostrils... in my hair... A fine ochre layer covers my face and body, even under my clothes. I’ve become a sand woman... Communion... Fusion with the mineral. I absorb the desert’s prodigious power, just as the desert absorbs my blood...
We walked for four hours, pushed by this furious wind, before stopping for the night under an acacia... There, we had to set up the tent, which they did with difficulty. Then we had to weigh it down... So the utensils and the mint tea tray served as shovels to cover the edges with sand. Then Abdou took care of the dromedaries, holding one of their front legs bent with a rope to keep them from wandering too far... Then we brought everything into the tent and collapsed... but not for long.
Mohammed prepared kingly meals at noon and night with the wonders in the baskets: finely chopped raw vegetable salad, vegetable tagine, soup (and not from a packet!)... Even the canned sardines were garnished with thin orange slices... After this exhausting day for all of us, I told him that bread with *La Vache qui Rit* would be enough... He looked at me with a big smile and said his evening ritual phrase: "Now, Laurence, sit down, take your time, take your book..." He pulled his sand-filled utensils from the miraculous basket, his stove, some vegetables, and made us couscous (and not from a box!), couscous he rolled between his hands... Meanwhile, Abdou took out his sand-filled teapot, his sugar loaf, the peanuts, the dates... The mint tea ritual, like every day, noon and night...
Outside, the wind keeps blowing, stirring up sand whirlwinds... So I won’t go out like the other night to brush my teeth and hair. Just a wipe on my face to remove the dust... Mohammed turns off the gas lamp, and I curl up in my sleeping bag. The dromedaries have moved closer to my side of the tent, and the moonlight stretches their shadows on the canvas. They’ve settled in and make strange noises... We fall asleep very quickly...
Monday, Day 3... My two companions are still asleep when the cold wakes me at 6 AM, like every morning... Everything seems so calm—the wind has stopped... I untie the tent door and... A pure blue sky, gradually tinted with pink and flaming orange. The sun rises before my dazzled eyes. A day of light begins: no trace of yesterday’s storm, except sand... everywhere.
So, breakfast with sand... Then we shake out everything that can be shaken, sending clouds of dust flying... Then Abdou gives the dromedaries back their fourth leg, and we continue the journey.
After the expanses of stones and shrubs on the first day, the rocky ridges of Jebel Baní, and the acacia forest on the second day, the landscape changes, softens... We arrive in the desert as you imagine it, as you dream it, as you’ve seen in thousands of photos: endless golden dunes, in harmonious hollows and curves... The desert of sand... vast, fascinating...
Last meal for the three of us... Tonight, we’ll arrive at the fixed campsite, and we won’t be alone anymore. The break stretches on... So, a little apart on the smooth sand, I write a few words... an obvious truth... entrusting a secret to the desert. In a small box, I’ll bring back some of this magical sand...
.. A secret in the desert...
Abdou grabs my notebook and draws the dunes. Mohammed draws Abdou and his dromedaries... I learn to do dishes with the contents of a single glass of water... A tiny bird lands on my bag... A bird!... in the middle of nowhere!... The dromedaries seem to relish the acacia branches, thorns and all...
Desert drawings
We set off again... The dunes are higher... Easy to climb, the desert has sensual, feminine curves. A giant’s hand would fit its reliefs like a caress on a soft, supple body... The setting sun gives the landscape colors of amber and spices, cinnamon reflections... The sand offers me pink pebbles and pieces of white quartz that sparkle... I also find a black stone... Mystery...
Pink pebbles, fossilized pebbles, sparkling pebbles, and a black stone
Late afternoon, arrival at the fixed campsite at the foot of Erg Lihoudi... The guardian, Lahcen, a whirlwind of chatter and energy, welcomes us with mint tea. He quickly pegs me: "You do yoga, right?" He tells lots of anecdotes about his "clients," ending every sentence with: "No problem! *Machi mouchkil*... *Machi mouchkil*, no problem!" Around the tents, dozens... hundreds of big black beetles swarm on the sand... As I shudder, Lahcen gently picks one up and wants to put it on my hand: "*Machi mouchkil*! It doesn’t sting!"... I hold out a hesitant palm... Despite Lahcen’s infectious enthusiasm, I don’t like this last evening. Two groups arrived by 4x4 to spend a night in the desert... Noise of engines, cameras, voices, and exclamations... An intrusion into my bubble... I keep my distance... They’ll leave very early the next morning...
Memory of beetles
Tuesday, Day 4... Standing still on a sand dune, I see both the full moon and the sun in the same sky... A luminous face-off. Magical, overwhelming... Then the moon paled, and the sun blazed brighter. It wasn’t quite night anymore, but day wasn’t far off... The Sacred, Mystical universe unfolded before me... A moment of grace that made my heart beat a little faster... Something indescribable gradually filled me, with infinite gentleness, to the depths of my soul... Facing this unlikely encounter, hesitations, reluctance, and fears seem so trivial... What are we if not fragments of this universe where everything is united... everything is connected...
Then comes the intention of a new message: "I’d love to put a face to..." But in this exchange scattered with misunderstandings, could you receive the intention without interpreting it?...
I stayed a long time on that dune, under the spell... Standing, barefoot and rooted... heart open... Receptive... in Unity between the infinitely small grain of sand and the infinitely vast universe... I hadn’t come to seek anything, yet the generous Earth offered its energy, its subtle strength to every cell of my body, and filled my soul with light... In exchange for this blood spilled on the sand over these four days?...
Give to Receive... Receive and Give... like a signed pact.
What exiled me from my life, disrupting all my bearings, drew me here... A necessary passage through space, withdrawal, and silence... for another birth?... The real desert after the symbolic desert... Pausing for a moment, as if at a crossroads. Connecting before continuing... If this path leads to the essential, then this path has a heart and will continue...
At the foot of the dune on the way down, I found a little Fatima’s hand made of beads. A gift from the desert...
Gift from the desert, good luck charm?
Mohammed and Abdou leave Erg Lihoudi with other people—our shared adventure ends here... Emotion... looks and gestures speak louder than any words... Thank you, from the bottom of my heart...
Return to Zagora in a rickety, bumpy 4x4... After the track, we cross a vast palm grove... Shimmering colors, lush vegetation, palm trees growing in wheat fields... Tender green of the ears, faded green of the fronds, all shades of green contrast with the ochre and pink stone walls... My eyes rediscover green... My eyes rediscover colors... On a narrow path, the 4x4 finds itself facing a donkey carrying three children on its back... Impossible to pass. Who will back up?... Well, roaring progress bowed to four-legged tradition: in a cloud of dust, the 4x4 reversed for several hundred meters... The donkey passed calmly... On its back, the three children waved their hands...
Noon, arrival at *La Fibule du Draa*... Smiling welcome from Lahcen. He offers me a shower—I refuse... Even if he seems a little surprised, he has the delicacy not to show it too much... Strangely, I don’t feel dirty. Yet my clothes are the same, and my body hasn’t seen a drop of water since the day I left... But I want to keep the warmth and the smell of sand on my skin... reconnecting with forgotten, instinctive, animal sensations... So, I transfer my meticulousness and civilized conditioning to my bag... I take everything out, empty it, shake it... hunting down the smallest grain of sand... Futile effort! (I still find some today...) The afternoon stretches lazily by the pool... I contemplate my pebbles and make a lovely encounter...
The Zagora-Marrakech bus leaves at 7 PM... It’s the night of the full moon, and as soon as night falls, the sky fills with stars... Points of light without beginning, without duration, without end... Tiny lights so distant and so close...
Wanting to share this moment... And with whom else? If you look up, you’re the only one seeing the same sky as me. So, the intention of another message. But in this fragile, stumbling exchange... marked by misunderstandings... could you receive the intention without interpreting it?
The trip is shorter than on the way there, but barely more comfortable. A speaker right above my seat blares music and incantations the whole way... Halfway through, the same unusual stop in a village lit up and bustling as if it were daytime (Taddart, I think...). Along the main street, the ground is checkered black and white. Butcher stalls display entire beef carcasses... Smells of smoke and grilling... People are busy... Others, seated, are eating... in the middle of the night.
Arrival in Marrakech at 2 AM. Taxi strike, no room until tonight... Uh-oh! My backpack draws attention: a car stops and offers to take me for 80 DH... Trust... Five minutes later, I push open the door of *Le Toulousain*... The guard offers to let me finish the night on one of the lobby benches. I unfold my sleeping bag and slip into the desert’s scent... No sleep. But with my eyes closed, I see the stars... You came to pick up my bulky envelope.
Wednesday... Difficult early morning... Now, I feel dirty, my clothes bother me, my shoes hurt... Craving a long hot shower, wanting to find my body, wash my hair, put on cream, do my nails, and... It’ll be a long shower... cold! The hotel is charming but a bit run-down.
Clothes from 4 days...
Afternoon on foot in the quiet Hivernage district, searching for a childhood memory that may have changed names: the *Holiday Inn* hotel... I didn’t find it, or didn’t recognize it. Long stroll in the Menara Gardens, and return to the hotel at sunset...
Thursday... Last day... Wanting to see the Marrakech Museum because the founder was a friend of my father’s... So, the familiar route: the McDonald’s, the square with the fountain, Avenue Hassan II, Bab Doukkala... but this time, I pass through the ramparts, and in the old city—sensual, charming, enchanting—I get lost, found, and lost again... I tracked down the museum and the Ben Youssef Madrasa at the end of a maze of alleys... Followed scents of mint, olives, honey, and cinnamon... Savored, moved, the same donuts as in my childhood—golden fried dough rings with a hole in the middle, tied together with a blade of grass... (I don’t remember the name...) I filled my eyes with pretty things and exchanged smiles... Received, just like that... A gift... a ring for my little finger... Someone called out to me: "Hey, gazelle," and it made me happy...
.. Still lost!...
Afternoon in the sun in the Koutoubia Gardens. I finish my book—sand falls from between the pages...
.. Started on the plane... read in the desert... finished in Marrakech...
Melancholy of the last evening... So, on the way back to the hotel, I buy *kesra* and *La Vache qui Rit*...
Long, long sleepless night... Flight in a few hours... Happy to see the ones I love again, too.
Thoughts, emotions, sensations, images... Questions... One question... So, more than reason, going over and over the question... What there is to live, it’ll have to be lived...
The desert, a solitary path... like all paths that lead to the essential...
3:30 AM, your message, read by the metallic voice of a voicemail. And you, facing physical failure, past mistakes, fear... A solitary path. Also. Like all paths that lead to the essential...

Since I’ve been back, sometimes at night I open my eyes and don’t know where I am... Sleepless night, starry night, night of communion, connected night... In that suspended moment, between wakefulness and sleep, which makes you so receptive... Communion with whom? Connected to what? Lila gnawa... lila de derdeba.
The desert, a solitary path. You step in, and you’re immediately in the essential...
Wednesday... My companion drops me off at Orly Ouest... There are two hours before boarding. My MP3 player turns on but that’s it. It freezes—no commands work, and nothing fixes it... Smile... A trip without music, then? And the first anchor falls away.
(Photo...) ... Passport, tickets, receipts, labels...
Nose pressed to the window for the entire flight... Descending over Marrakech, at low altitude, a pretty mosaic—shades of pink and ochre dotted with green, but also, to the right, less harmonious, aligned cubes. Housing developments under construction? A bumpy, turbulent landing—the plane circles for a long time before touching down.
Welcomed by the familiar, unchanged sound of creaking doors and seats in the little taxis. In Casablanca, it was red Simca 1000s with meters; here, they’re yellow, and you have to negotiate the price. I have no talent for that, so here’s 100 DH!
Traversed and forgottenMarrakech... Sunny, luminous, sensual. Torn between tradition and modernity... Shimmering and fragrant, very noisy... rather polluted? On the road, horses and donkeys still mingle with vehicles... and watch out for traffic when crossing! It’s always a strategic—and athletic—adventure: at what exact moment do you sprint to the opposite sidewalk? And why aren’t any street names marked?
Afternoon on foot, heading to the Bab Doukkala bus station... A landmark: the McDonald’s, then a square with a fountain. Then turn left onto Avenue Hassan II. There’s a bus to Zagora Friday morning, but I can only buy the ticket tomorrow. On the way back to the hotel, at a kiosk on the corner, I buy *Tel Quel*, which I read with great interest online.
Thursday... Early morning, walking to Place Jemaa el-Fna, calm and almost deserted... I don’t get a good deal buying two small daggers for my kids. No talent for haggling—it takes more than charm for that... So I’ll pick the rest of my gifts at the artisan center on Avenue Mohammed V, where prices are marked, and it’s a pleasure to watch the craftsmen work... For my daughter, a satchel and earrings. The satchel smells like goat. The earrings are hand-chiseled in front of me by a very young man with nimble fingers—marvels of delicacy and fragility. Then I linger for a long time in the souk alleys. Scents of leather, thuya and cedar wood, wool and copper... Familiar smells... Childhood memories...
Dear daggersEarrings
Back at the bus station, an unexpected change: no bus Friday morning, but a departure tonight at 8:30 PM... I have a little time before packing, so I take a long detour: Boulevard de Safi, then right onto Avenue El Mansour to the Majorelle Garden... A quiet pause. Rare plants, all kinds of cacti—smooth, fuzzy, bristling with spines... strange, squat, or stretched-out shapes. An infinite variety of greens, and that famous blue... The song of birds, the sun and shadows playing in the water basins... Time flows lazily. I write postcards—they’ll arrive long after I’m back...

Back to the hotel. Avenue El Mansour, Boulevard Zerktouni—okay, but why are the small street names never marked?!! I get a little lost...
I hope you got my MMS, because before leaving, I left something for you at the front desk...
8 PM, night has already fallen. Arriving at the bus station, and then... Then, a step back... A dense crowd, a tangle of buses... Where to go?... Rare woman, lone foreigner, backpack... I’m quickly spotted, surrounded, poorly guided... Someone with a badge finally points me to the right sidewalk. The bus isn’t there, and the sidewalk is already packed, mostly with men. Will I even get a seat?... Three young men are particularly insistent... They want to know where I’m going and why, if someone is with me, if I’m expected... I answer with a smile. A bit tricky—choosing words, staying polite while evasive... Their French is hesitant, my Arabic is more than rudimentary... Actually, I shouldn’t have tried... Their tone becomes a bit... aggressive, and their eyes light up. Uh-oh... They say they’re students, but what of?... Want to know what I think of the Quran and Allah, what I think of holy war, if I’m "for the Americans," "for the Palestinians"... Other travelers intervene... And the bus still isn’t here... The speech turns fanatical... Then, my smile freezes a little... A small wave of panic, so I send a "freaked out" MMS... (But who else could I send it to?) Then, in this dark crowd, a light dressed in white... Nabila, a young student heading to Zagora for vacation, she speaks French... She plants herself in front of them and scolds them thoroughly. I didn’t catch everything, but it worked! The three troublemakers retreat. Plus, they weren’t on the right sidewalk, and their bus is about to leave without them...
Nabila and I manage to board and sit side by side... The bus leaves two hours late. The trip is long, a bit uncomfortable, slowed by many stops—it was very cold...
Friday... A little stiff, a little dazzled, a little chilled, arriving in Zagora at dawn with the sunrise... Magical! Craving something warm... And then, a heartfelt gift—kindness and hospitality—Nabila invites me to her home. Warm welcome from her mother and siblings, not at all surprised to see me show up so early to share their breakfast! A few hours in their company... We exchange addresses, and the youngest brother, Nouamare, gives me a children’s storybook...
Noon, at *La Fibule du Draa* Lahcen Sarti, the owner... I finally put a smile and a face to an email exchange... He shows me the trek route on the map, laughs when I tell him about my night on the bus, and sends me to rest by the pool... No swimsuit, so a lounge chair and a book... A book that will accompany me into the desert and which I’ll finish in Marrakech, in the Koutoubia Garden...

Saturday, Day 1... When I wake up this morning, I know the desert sand will also absorb my blood...
Early departure for four days and three nights, alone, as I wished, with a young guide, Mohammed, and a younger camel driver, Abdou. We’ll be together 24/7, and we won’t see a soul until we reach the fixed campsite on the third evening. Everything we need is loaded onto two dromedaries. And in those baskets, there are miracles—a *Prévert*-style inventory I’ll discover bit by bit, like... a tray for glasses, a basket for bread, a sugar loaf and small glasses for tea, but... large glasses and sugar cubes for coffee, spices, oranges, vegetables, raw eggs!... That won’t break, *La Vache qui Rit*... And so many other unexpected wonders, so surprising in the middle of the desert... (*La Vache qui Rit* is the desert butter. Every morning for breakfast, it was coffee with Nido powdered milk and *kesra* with *La Vache qui Rit* and Aïcha apricot jam... A delight.)

Start of the journey, and the beginning of a long, long walk... We’ll cover 80 km in three days, crossing all kinds of landscapes until the real desert of sand and dunes... I’ll drink water from wells, eat raw vegetables, sleep on a mattress that saddles the dromedaries by day... I’ll forget all the warnings and all my hygiene references... My body will quiet its complaints. No heat, no thirst, no fatigue, no trouble of any kind... just woken by the cold every morning around 6 AM... I take off my watch. Like my companions, I’ll live by the sun’s rhythm...
Abdou leads the dromedaries, so he walks at their pace. Sometimes, we’re grouped together. Sometimes the two guides are together, and I walk behind. Sometimes we talk. Nothing is forced, no discomfort. It’s a simple, harmonious dance—one foot in front of the other, following your shadow as it turns with the sun... Each step leaves behind the useless, the cumbersome, the superfluous... Room for intimacy... Room for silence... Room for the inner self... Facing yourself... I find seashells, and with my eyes closed, I smell the sea...
... One foot in front of the other...I take out my camera... Capacity for a hundred shots, but it’ll be 10 photos, no more. It freezes—no commands work, and nothing fixes it... Smile... A trip without photos, then? And the second anchor falls... I think of my MP3 player...
... A few photos among the ten...Noon... Unsaddling the dromedaries, which immediately wander off in search of food. And before the meal cooked by Mohammed, the mint tea ritual, prepared by Abdou in a tiny teapot... Thick, frothy, very sweet tea... He serves it on a tray with dates, peanuts, and raisins... And it’ll be like this every day, noon and night...
We gradually get to know each other... Mohammed, 25 years old... Calm, very introspective, almost ascetic, he knows the desert well and loves it... So at ease that he’ll walk in slippers or barefoot, no matter the terrain... When I’m behind him, the advertisement on the back of his sweatshirt makes me smile... There’s a date: January 8, 2003... A little wink from life? (I have a clear memory of that day.) Abdou, barely 20, with a round, jovial face. The mint tea master... When he hands me my glass, he says "Bismillah," and I respond in kind... A joker and a foodie. Thrilled that I only eat vegetables, he’ll have double the meat!
... Abdou and his teapot...
... Mohammed...Late afternoon, a well... Abdou waters the dromedaries, and Mohammed fills the canteens. The caps aren’t watertight, so he wedges a piece of plastic bag found in one of the baskets and screws it on top... Forget all hygiene warnings...
First night in a tent at the foot of Jebel Baní...
... JebelSunday, Day 2... Crossing and ascending Jebel Baní... A mineral, lunar landscape—rocks the color of burnt bread and anthracite gray. I pick up pretty pebbles, and Mohammed finds me a fossilized stone... Lunch in a deserted nomad oasis... When we resume our walk, the wind picks up. A wind that only blows in April, violent, terrible—the *Sahli*... Swirls of sand and gravel. Where’s the sky, where’s the earth... everything is dust, everything is yellow and opaque... The gusts are so strong they make us stagger. At times, we even have to crouch to avoid falling. In the acacia forest, Abdou and the dromedaries are only a few meters ahead, yet we can’t see them... We’ll later learn that on that day, planned excursions were canceled... That a group got lost and had to be picked up by 4x4... But Mohammed has a sense of the desert. He’s calm, he guides us... so we continue, and I trust him. He wraps a *chèche* around my head—a fragile barrier against these onslaughts... We have to keep moving, and it’s difficult... But the desert has accepted me, so without resistance, I accept it... And the sand gets everywhere... in my mouth, crunching between my teeth, in my eyes, ears, and nostrils... in my hair... A fine ochre layer covers my face and body, even under my clothes. I’ve become a sand woman... Communion... Fusion with the mineral. I absorb the desert’s prodigious power, just as the desert absorbs my blood...
We walked for four hours, pushed by this furious wind, before stopping for the night under an acacia... There, we had to set up the tent, which they did with difficulty. Then we had to weigh it down... So the utensils and the mint tea tray served as shovels to cover the edges with sand. Then Abdou took care of the dromedaries, holding one of their front legs bent with a rope to keep them from wandering too far... Then we brought everything into the tent and collapsed... but not for long.
Mohammed prepared kingly meals at noon and night with the wonders in the baskets: finely chopped raw vegetable salad, vegetable tagine, soup (and not from a packet!)... Even the canned sardines were garnished with thin orange slices... After this exhausting day for all of us, I told him that bread with *La Vache qui Rit* would be enough... He looked at me with a big smile and said his evening ritual phrase: "Now, Laurence, sit down, take your time, take your book..." He pulled his sand-filled utensils from the miraculous basket, his stove, some vegetables, and made us couscous (and not from a box!), couscous he rolled between his hands... Meanwhile, Abdou took out his sand-filled teapot, his sugar loaf, the peanuts, the dates... The mint tea ritual, like every day, noon and night...
Outside, the wind keeps blowing, stirring up sand whirlwinds... So I won’t go out like the other night to brush my teeth and hair. Just a wipe on my face to remove the dust... Mohammed turns off the gas lamp, and I curl up in my sleeping bag. The dromedaries have moved closer to my side of the tent, and the moonlight stretches their shadows on the canvas. They’ve settled in and make strange noises... We fall asleep very quickly...
Monday, Day 3... My two companions are still asleep when the cold wakes me at 6 AM, like every morning... Everything seems so calm—the wind has stopped... I untie the tent door and... A pure blue sky, gradually tinted with pink and flaming orange. The sun rises before my dazzled eyes. A day of light begins: no trace of yesterday’s storm, except sand... everywhere.
So, breakfast with sand... Then we shake out everything that can be shaken, sending clouds of dust flying... Then Abdou gives the dromedaries back their fourth leg, and we continue the journey.
After the expanses of stones and shrubs on the first day, the rocky ridges of Jebel Baní, and the acacia forest on the second day, the landscape changes, softens... We arrive in the desert as you imagine it, as you dream it, as you’ve seen in thousands of photos: endless golden dunes, in harmonious hollows and curves... The desert of sand... vast, fascinating...
Last meal for the three of us... Tonight, we’ll arrive at the fixed campsite, and we won’t be alone anymore. The break stretches on... So, a little apart on the smooth sand, I write a few words... an obvious truth... entrusting a secret to the desert. In a small box, I’ll bring back some of this magical sand...
.. A secret in the desert...Abdou grabs my notebook and draws the dunes. Mohammed draws Abdou and his dromedaries... I learn to do dishes with the contents of a single glass of water... A tiny bird lands on my bag... A bird!... in the middle of nowhere!... The dromedaries seem to relish the acacia branches, thorns and all...
Desert drawingsWe set off again... The dunes are higher... Easy to climb, the desert has sensual, feminine curves. A giant’s hand would fit its reliefs like a caress on a soft, supple body... The setting sun gives the landscape colors of amber and spices, cinnamon reflections... The sand offers me pink pebbles and pieces of white quartz that sparkle... I also find a black stone... Mystery...
Pink pebbles, fossilized pebbles, sparkling pebbles, and a black stoneLate afternoon, arrival at the fixed campsite at the foot of Erg Lihoudi... The guardian, Lahcen, a whirlwind of chatter and energy, welcomes us with mint tea. He quickly pegs me: "You do yoga, right?" He tells lots of anecdotes about his "clients," ending every sentence with: "No problem! *Machi mouchkil*... *Machi mouchkil*, no problem!" Around the tents, dozens... hundreds of big black beetles swarm on the sand... As I shudder, Lahcen gently picks one up and wants to put it on my hand: "*Machi mouchkil*! It doesn’t sting!"... I hold out a hesitant palm... Despite Lahcen’s infectious enthusiasm, I don’t like this last evening. Two groups arrived by 4x4 to spend a night in the desert... Noise of engines, cameras, voices, and exclamations... An intrusion into my bubble... I keep my distance... They’ll leave very early the next morning...
Memory of beetlesTuesday, Day 4... Standing still on a sand dune, I see both the full moon and the sun in the same sky... A luminous face-off. Magical, overwhelming... Then the moon paled, and the sun blazed brighter. It wasn’t quite night anymore, but day wasn’t far off... The Sacred, Mystical universe unfolded before me... A moment of grace that made my heart beat a little faster... Something indescribable gradually filled me, with infinite gentleness, to the depths of my soul... Facing this unlikely encounter, hesitations, reluctance, and fears seem so trivial... What are we if not fragments of this universe where everything is united... everything is connected...
Then comes the intention of a new message: "I’d love to put a face to..." But in this exchange scattered with misunderstandings, could you receive the intention without interpreting it?...
I stayed a long time on that dune, under the spell... Standing, barefoot and rooted... heart open... Receptive... in Unity between the infinitely small grain of sand and the infinitely vast universe... I hadn’t come to seek anything, yet the generous Earth offered its energy, its subtle strength to every cell of my body, and filled my soul with light... In exchange for this blood spilled on the sand over these four days?...
Give to Receive... Receive and Give... like a signed pact.
What exiled me from my life, disrupting all my bearings, drew me here... A necessary passage through space, withdrawal, and silence... for another birth?... The real desert after the symbolic desert... Pausing for a moment, as if at a crossroads. Connecting before continuing... If this path leads to the essential, then this path has a heart and will continue...
At the foot of the dune on the way down, I found a little Fatima’s hand made of beads. A gift from the desert...
Gift from the desert, good luck charm?Mohammed and Abdou leave Erg Lihoudi with other people—our shared adventure ends here... Emotion... looks and gestures speak louder than any words... Thank you, from the bottom of my heart...
Return to Zagora in a rickety, bumpy 4x4... After the track, we cross a vast palm grove... Shimmering colors, lush vegetation, palm trees growing in wheat fields... Tender green of the ears, faded green of the fronds, all shades of green contrast with the ochre and pink stone walls... My eyes rediscover green... My eyes rediscover colors... On a narrow path, the 4x4 finds itself facing a donkey carrying three children on its back... Impossible to pass. Who will back up?... Well, roaring progress bowed to four-legged tradition: in a cloud of dust, the 4x4 reversed for several hundred meters... The donkey passed calmly... On its back, the three children waved their hands...
Noon, arrival at *La Fibule du Draa*... Smiling welcome from Lahcen. He offers me a shower—I refuse... Even if he seems a little surprised, he has the delicacy not to show it too much... Strangely, I don’t feel dirty. Yet my clothes are the same, and my body hasn’t seen a drop of water since the day I left... But I want to keep the warmth and the smell of sand on my skin... reconnecting with forgotten, instinctive, animal sensations... So, I transfer my meticulousness and civilized conditioning to my bag... I take everything out, empty it, shake it... hunting down the smallest grain of sand... Futile effort! (I still find some today...) The afternoon stretches lazily by the pool... I contemplate my pebbles and make a lovely encounter...
The Zagora-Marrakech bus leaves at 7 PM... It’s the night of the full moon, and as soon as night falls, the sky fills with stars... Points of light without beginning, without duration, without end... Tiny lights so distant and so close...
Wanting to share this moment... And with whom else? If you look up, you’re the only one seeing the same sky as me. So, the intention of another message. But in this fragile, stumbling exchange... marked by misunderstandings... could you receive the intention without interpreting it?
The trip is shorter than on the way there, but barely more comfortable. A speaker right above my seat blares music and incantations the whole way... Halfway through, the same unusual stop in a village lit up and bustling as if it were daytime (Taddart, I think...). Along the main street, the ground is checkered black and white. Butcher stalls display entire beef carcasses... Smells of smoke and grilling... People are busy... Others, seated, are eating... in the middle of the night.
Arrival in Marrakech at 2 AM. Taxi strike, no room until tonight... Uh-oh! My backpack draws attention: a car stops and offers to take me for 80 DH... Trust... Five minutes later, I push open the door of *Le Toulousain*... The guard offers to let me finish the night on one of the lobby benches. I unfold my sleeping bag and slip into the desert’s scent... No sleep. But with my eyes closed, I see the stars... You came to pick up my bulky envelope.
Wednesday... Difficult early morning... Now, I feel dirty, my clothes bother me, my shoes hurt... Craving a long hot shower, wanting to find my body, wash my hair, put on cream, do my nails, and... It’ll be a long shower... cold! The hotel is charming but a bit run-down.
Clothes from 4 days...Afternoon on foot in the quiet Hivernage district, searching for a childhood memory that may have changed names: the *Holiday Inn* hotel... I didn’t find it, or didn’t recognize it. Long stroll in the Menara Gardens, and return to the hotel at sunset...
Thursday... Last day... Wanting to see the Marrakech Museum because the founder was a friend of my father’s... So, the familiar route: the McDonald’s, the square with the fountain, Avenue Hassan II, Bab Doukkala... but this time, I pass through the ramparts, and in the old city—sensual, charming, enchanting—I get lost, found, and lost again... I tracked down the museum and the Ben Youssef Madrasa at the end of a maze of alleys... Followed scents of mint, olives, honey, and cinnamon... Savored, moved, the same donuts as in my childhood—golden fried dough rings with a hole in the middle, tied together with a blade of grass... (I don’t remember the name...) I filled my eyes with pretty things and exchanged smiles... Received, just like that... A gift... a ring for my little finger... Someone called out to me: "Hey, gazelle," and it made me happy...
.. Still lost!...Afternoon in the sun in the Koutoubia Gardens. I finish my book—sand falls from between the pages...
.. Started on the plane... read in the desert... finished in Marrakech...Melancholy of the last evening... So, on the way back to the hotel, I buy *kesra* and *La Vache qui Rit*...
Long, long sleepless night... Flight in a few hours... Happy to see the ones I love again, too.
Thoughts, emotions, sensations, images... Questions... One question... So, more than reason, going over and over the question... What there is to live, it’ll have to be lived...
The desert, a solitary path... like all paths that lead to the essential...
3:30 AM, your message, read by the metallic voice of a voicemail. And you, facing physical failure, past mistakes, fear... A solitary path. Also. Like all paths that lead to the essential...
Hi everyone, just back from the 8-day Marrakech-Merzouga loop by car, and I’d love to share my feedback in case it helps some of you. Big thanks to all the forum members who kindly answered my questions!
Trip from Friday the 20th to Saturday the 28th, flying out of Marseille with Ryanair
- Landed late around 8 PM local time, exchanged some currency, and the rental agency (Magdaz Car, which I highly recommend) delivered the car straight to the airport with some great route tips (don’t blindly trust Maps.me). The night drive was a bit intense—lots of people out and about due to Ramadan. Stayed at Riad Midhou (really nice) on the outskirts of the city, which made it easy to hit the road the next morning.
- Day 1: Marrakech to Skoura. The drive was smooth, roads are great, but watch out for roundabout priority—it’s different from France. Beautiful route. Quick stop in Ouarzazate for lunch, Ait Benhaddou for the view (stunning), and the Fint Oasis (meh...). Spent the night at Taloute Ecolodge in Skoura, overlooking the palm grove (super cozy).
- Day 2: Skoura to Todgha Gorges via the Valley of Roses and Dades Gorges. Adventure-packed day! We crossed the Valley of Roses (pretty, but not as amazing as I’d hoped) and took a "shortcut" recommended by the *Routard* guide to reach the Dades Gorges without backtracking. After asking locals, they said, "It’s doable." Turns out it was a narrow, rocky cliffside track—no way to turn around! A stressful moment, with a nice scratch on the bumper and a good sweat. Fine in an SUV or 4x4, but not in a Logan... Then the Dades Gorges (nice) and a detour through the north to reach Todgha from above. Gorgeous mountain road and a quick stop on some snow patches—touching African snow! Spent the night at *Les Gorges de Todgha*—great place, except for the bathroom. The Todgha Gorges themselves are stunning!
Day 3: Todgha to Merzouga. Beautiful drive, and the view of the erg (sand dunes) on arrival is breathtaking! Totally worth the trip. Explored the desert and stayed at *Café du Sud* hotel just outside Merzouga—absolutely gorgeous.
Day 4: Merzouga. Desert exploration and chilling by the hotel pool (with a bonus sunburn). Lunch in Merzouga—I recommend *Dakar*—their lemon tajine was amazing. Spent the night in the hotel’s luxury camp, including a camel ride. The camp was beautiful, but I was disappointed we weren’t deeper in the desert given the price (100 € per person, including dinner, breakfast, and camel ride).
Day 5: Merzouga to Tamnougalt. Gorgeous route. First fine (a supposed stop sign...) but the officer was super nice—only 150 MAD. Stayed at *Kasbah Maktob*, right in the middle of ruins—really unique and beautiful!
Day 6: Tamnougalt to Marrakech. Another beautiful drive, and a second fine (minor speeding), same amount. Crossed a windy mountain pass during a big storm—traffic was blocked in the opposite direction (not sure why), causing massive jams for those coming from Marrakech. A few downed cables, but nothing serious. Arriving in Marrakech was tricky—hard to find the rental agency, and the traffic was intense (watch out for GPS trying to send you through the medina). Ask the rental company to meet you somewhere quiet. They didn’t even notice the damaged bumper... Stayed at *Riad Zifamo* in the heart of the medina. Big change of pace—so many people and so much hustle!
Day 7: Marrakech. Lots of wandering through the souk and a quick trip to Gueliz (not essential). A few tips for the medina: watch out for scooters weaving too fast, always negotiate prices (aim for at least 1/3 off what they ask, unless it’s a small amount), don’t buy spices—more expensive than in France! Head to the *Carrefour Market* in Gueliz for better prices. In the end, not many truly unique items—you’ll find more or less the same things everywhere.
Day 8: Early morning flight. We’d booked a car to the airport from the riad, but a taxi would’ve been fine—plenty available even at 7 AM. Security wasn’t an issue (we had lighters and liquids over 100 ml).
A few extra notes: Pleasantly surprised by the road quality—just a few potholes here and there, but overall very drivable. Watch out for the police—they’re everywhere! The car cost me 30 € per day (with the *Routard* discount) and about 90 € in gas. No safety concerns, no harassment, and no stomach issues, despite the ice in Marrakech. Breakfasts at the hotels were usually hearty—take advantage! The timing (end of February) was perfect—pleasant daytime temps and cool nights. Since it was Ramadan, nothing unusual to report, except it was hard to find food outside Marrakech at lunchtime. If I did it again, Merzouga is a must, but I’d spend a night in a real desert bivouac, deeper in the dunes. My stops (no more than 300 km a day) were well-paced, and with so few cars on the road, it wasn’t tiring—even though I’m not usually a fan of driving... Happy to answer any questions!
Trip from Friday the 20th to Saturday the 28th, flying out of Marseille with Ryanair
- Landed late around 8 PM local time, exchanged some currency, and the rental agency (Magdaz Car, which I highly recommend) delivered the car straight to the airport with some great route tips (don’t blindly trust Maps.me). The night drive was a bit intense—lots of people out and about due to Ramadan. Stayed at Riad Midhou (really nice) on the outskirts of the city, which made it easy to hit the road the next morning.
- Day 1: Marrakech to Skoura. The drive was smooth, roads are great, but watch out for roundabout priority—it’s different from France. Beautiful route. Quick stop in Ouarzazate for lunch, Ait Benhaddou for the view (stunning), and the Fint Oasis (meh...). Spent the night at Taloute Ecolodge in Skoura, overlooking the palm grove (super cozy).
- Day 2: Skoura to Todgha Gorges via the Valley of Roses and Dades Gorges. Adventure-packed day! We crossed the Valley of Roses (pretty, but not as amazing as I’d hoped) and took a "shortcut" recommended by the *Routard* guide to reach the Dades Gorges without backtracking. After asking locals, they said, "It’s doable." Turns out it was a narrow, rocky cliffside track—no way to turn around! A stressful moment, with a nice scratch on the bumper and a good sweat. Fine in an SUV or 4x4, but not in a Logan... Then the Dades Gorges (nice) and a detour through the north to reach Todgha from above. Gorgeous mountain road and a quick stop on some snow patches—touching African snow! Spent the night at *Les Gorges de Todgha*—great place, except for the bathroom. The Todgha Gorges themselves are stunning!
Day 3: Todgha to Merzouga. Beautiful drive, and the view of the erg (sand dunes) on arrival is breathtaking! Totally worth the trip. Explored the desert and stayed at *Café du Sud* hotel just outside Merzouga—absolutely gorgeous.
Day 4: Merzouga. Desert exploration and chilling by the hotel pool (with a bonus sunburn). Lunch in Merzouga—I recommend *Dakar*—their lemon tajine was amazing. Spent the night in the hotel’s luxury camp, including a camel ride. The camp was beautiful, but I was disappointed we weren’t deeper in the desert given the price (100 € per person, including dinner, breakfast, and camel ride).
Day 5: Merzouga to Tamnougalt. Gorgeous route. First fine (a supposed stop sign...) but the officer was super nice—only 150 MAD. Stayed at *Kasbah Maktob*, right in the middle of ruins—really unique and beautiful!
Day 6: Tamnougalt to Marrakech. Another beautiful drive, and a second fine (minor speeding), same amount. Crossed a windy mountain pass during a big storm—traffic was blocked in the opposite direction (not sure why), causing massive jams for those coming from Marrakech. A few downed cables, but nothing serious. Arriving in Marrakech was tricky—hard to find the rental agency, and the traffic was intense (watch out for GPS trying to send you through the medina). Ask the rental company to meet you somewhere quiet. They didn’t even notice the damaged bumper... Stayed at *Riad Zifamo* in the heart of the medina. Big change of pace—so many people and so much hustle!
Day 7: Marrakech. Lots of wandering through the souk and a quick trip to Gueliz (not essential). A few tips for the medina: watch out for scooters weaving too fast, always negotiate prices (aim for at least 1/3 off what they ask, unless it’s a small amount), don’t buy spices—more expensive than in France! Head to the *Carrefour Market* in Gueliz for better prices. In the end, not many truly unique items—you’ll find more or less the same things everywhere.
Day 8: Early morning flight. We’d booked a car to the airport from the riad, but a taxi would’ve been fine—plenty available even at 7 AM. Security wasn’t an issue (we had lighters and liquids over 100 ml).
A few extra notes: Pleasantly surprised by the road quality—just a few potholes here and there, but overall very drivable. Watch out for the police—they’re everywhere! The car cost me 30 € per day (with the *Routard* discount) and about 90 € in gas. No safety concerns, no harassment, and no stomach issues, despite the ice in Marrakech. Breakfasts at the hotels were usually hearty—take advantage! The timing (end of February) was perfect—pleasant daytime temps and cool nights. Since it was Ramadan, nothing unusual to report, except it was hard to find food outside Marrakech at lunchtime. If I did it again, Merzouga is a must, but I’d spend a night in a real desert bivouac, deeper in the dunes. My stops (no more than 300 km a day) were well-paced, and with so few cars on the road, it wasn’t tiring—even though I’m not usually a fan of driving... Happy to answer any questions!
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?*
We arrive in the evening in Marrakesh, and a taxi arranged by our friendly Riad is waiting for us. The driver takes us to the door, where we’re briefly greeted by our hosts. The room is heated—phew—because it’s really cold on this January 17th for our arrival. Riad Alisma, where we’re staying for 2 nights. The next morning, it’s pouring rain when we wake up, but after a good breakfast, the rain has calmed down. Off we go to the medersa, which allows for a relatively sheltered visit. We’d visited this palace 15 years ago—it’s been renovated since then.


From there, without the rain, we wander aimlessly and eventually end up near the tanneries, but it’s Sunday, and there’s very little activity. Of course, we get hassled by a tout.

Here, the hides after being treated with lime—I love the colors.
We part ways a bit annoyed. He gets a little revenge by giving us bad directions, and we end up outside the city walls. We decide to take a taxi to the new modern art museum—60 dirhams for the 5 km, which is nothing when you think about it. That tout, who we didn’t ask for anything and made it clear we weren’t buying anything, dragged us into a shop supposedly only open that day and demanded 50 dirhams for his "services"! Let’s forget that bad moment and enjoy the exhibition at the MACAL.

The taxi on the way back drops us off at Place des Ferblantiers, not far from our Riad. We’re a little peckish—it’s worth mentioning that at lunchtime, we only ate a plate of beans from a street vendor. So, we buy a bunch of little sweets, each more delicious than the last, at Ajar. We snack while sipping mint tea and watching life go by around us. A final visit to the Museum of Moroccan Cuisine on our way back helps us dodge a few more showers. Then it’s back to the Riad. The atmosphere in the city is heating up—it’s the AFCON final tonight. The temperatures, though? Not so much. We ordered a meal at the Riad, and it was a good call—not only was it really tasty, but the rain also picked up again. Our day in Marrakesh ends under the covers with a good book and some photo sorting. Still, we managed 10,750 steps. View of our Riad

Tomorrow, we’ll pick up our rental car from Medloc and head to Essaouira.


From there, without the rain, we wander aimlessly and eventually end up near the tanneries, but it’s Sunday, and there’s very little activity. Of course, we get hassled by a tout.

Here, the hides after being treated with lime—I love the colors.
We part ways a bit annoyed. He gets a little revenge by giving us bad directions, and we end up outside the city walls. We decide to take a taxi to the new modern art museum—60 dirhams for the 5 km, which is nothing when you think about it. That tout, who we didn’t ask for anything and made it clear we weren’t buying anything, dragged us into a shop supposedly only open that day and demanded 50 dirhams for his "services"! Let’s forget that bad moment and enjoy the exhibition at the MACAL.

The taxi on the way back drops us off at Place des Ferblantiers, not far from our Riad. We’re a little peckish—it’s worth mentioning that at lunchtime, we only ate a plate of beans from a street vendor. So, we buy a bunch of little sweets, each more delicious than the last, at Ajar. We snack while sipping mint tea and watching life go by around us. A final visit to the Museum of Moroccan Cuisine on our way back helps us dodge a few more showers. Then it’s back to the Riad. The atmosphere in the city is heating up—it’s the AFCON final tonight. The temperatures, though? Not so much. We ordered a meal at the Riad, and it was a good call—not only was it really tasty, but the rain also picked up again. Our day in Marrakesh ends under the covers with a good book and some photo sorting. Still, we managed 10,750 steps. View of our Riad

Tomorrow, we’ll pick up our rental car from Medloc and head to Essaouira.
On this forum, we’ve all shared our favorite spots. Today, I’m wondering what’s happening with those small hostels and how they’re coping with the crisis.
I’m thinking especially of Hussein, the owner of the guesthouse in Ijoukak; Majhid from L’Arganier in Tafraout;
the family running Escale Rando in Taliouine; and so many others.
Through hard work, they’d created welcoming hostels where it was great to stop for a few days.
Has anyone heard from them lately?
Thanks in advance for your replies—the list isn’t exhaustive, there are plenty more.
Hi there,
For the Dakhla - Nouadhibou route, everyone only talks about taxis costing 350 - 400 MAD. But the bus only costs 260 MAD (Supratours). I’ve been searching in vain for info or testimonials from people who’ve taken the bus to Nouadhibou.
So, how’s the bus? And why does no one seem to take it?? Am I about to make a mistake or what?
Thanks!
For the Dakhla - Nouadhibou route, everyone only talks about taxis costing 350 - 400 MAD. But the bus only costs 260 MAD (Supratours). I’ve been searching in vain for info or testimonials from people who’ve taken the bus to Nouadhibou.
So, how’s the bus? And why does no one seem to take it?? Am I about to make a mistake or what?
Thanks!
Hello,
My daughter (22) and I set off to explore a bit of her grandfather’s homeland. We left on July 26 from Roissy and arrived in Rabat with Air France. We had a few hiccups retrieving our luggage—1.5 hours of waiting and a mini interrogation at customs about our host’s address (they asked for a reference) and questions about a Moroccan ID card I’ve never applied for. Next time, I’d better have it—dual nationals get extra scrutiny.
We headed to the ONCF station to catch the train to Marrakech. First-class tickets cost 195 MAD, with assigned seats and decent comfort… the catch? The train was delayed, so we arrived at 2:50 AM instead of 12:10 AM.
We chose the Ibis Gare, located between the ONCF station and the Supratours bus terminal. We booked two nights from France for 79.85 €. To avoid the premium-rate call, just dial the hotel directly—they’ll handle the reservation. I’d signed up on the Ibis website beforehand for a discount (free and comes with perks).
On-site, we added 44 MAD for the tourist tax (11 MAD x 4 nights). We skipped breakfast—too pricey at 6.50 € per person. The hotel has a nice pool and a pleasant setting. The shower seals weren’t perfect, but the bedding was comfy, the linens soft, and the AC worked (though it was noisy). We were overall happy with it.
We had breakfast and lunch at a café/restaurant right across from the hotel—affordable and tasty.
For phones, we bought two Inwi SIM cards for 30 MAD each and a 5 GB internet top-up for 50 MAD—more than enough for our 16-day trip. Later, we added two 20 MAD call top-ups. Total phone budget for both of us: 150 MAD.
Taxis in Marrakech: No issues. We always asked for the meter—if a driver refused, we’d just move on. No haggling for us!
Day 1: We visited the Majorelle Garden (70 MAD per person). It was beautiful and peaceful. We walked there. In the afternoon, we took a taxi to Jemaa el-Fnaa square. The constant solicitations were exhausting—I felt like a guard dog fending people off. The worst part? We got lured deep into the medina to some sketchy spot under the pretense of seeing "Berber tanneries"—"last day!"—then had a guy grab our arms, demanding 200 MAD. I offered 50 MAD max since we hadn’t asked for anything. When he insisted, I threatened to go to the police. He finally let go for the 50 MAD. We headed back to the hotel to enjoy the pool before returning to the square for the evening. It was lively but noisy, and I found the vendors *way* too pushy. We walked back to the hotel—an hour-long stroll that was actually really nice. We kept no more than 150 MAD in our wallet at a time. We stuffed ourselves with smoothies—they’re *so* good.
Day 2: We left at 8:30 AM for Tinghir with Supratours, arriving at 4:45 PM instead of 4:00 PM (lots of roadwork). Tickets were 130 MAD per person + 5 MAD per checked bag. We stayed one night at the "Retour au Calme" hostel—super cozy! 150 MAD for a room with a private shower and toilet. AC was an extra 80 MAD per night (not mandatory) but worked great. Phone: +212 5248-34924. Breakfast was 30 MAD, and they offer tons of options, including budget-friendly choices like a couch for 80 MAD per person with shared showers/toilets. Half-board and full-board are also available. Mohamed and Alexandra are lovely. I booked by phone and paid on-site—they even picked us up from the bus station!
We took a taxi to the Todra Gorge—a breath of fresh air! It’s stunning and humbling. You feel tiny there. Shared taxis cost 8 MAD per person (fixed price). The organization was impressive. To get from the city center to the bus station: 3 MAD per person.
Day 3: We left at 4:00 PM for Merzouga, arriving at 9:30 PM. Tickets were 80 MAD per person + 5 MAD per checked bag. Upon arrival, we were greeted by Houssein, one of five brothers running the "Auberge Océan des Dunes." We had a lovely room with a private bathroom and kitchen access. Two rooms are available in this unit for 190 MAD per night for two, including breakfast.
My daughter (22) and I set off to explore a bit of her grandfather’s homeland. We left on July 26 from Roissy and arrived in Rabat with Air France. We had a few hiccups retrieving our luggage—1.5 hours of waiting and a mini interrogation at customs about our host’s address (they asked for a reference) and questions about a Moroccan ID card I’ve never applied for. Next time, I’d better have it—dual nationals get extra scrutiny.
We headed to the ONCF station to catch the train to Marrakech. First-class tickets cost 195 MAD, with assigned seats and decent comfort… the catch? The train was delayed, so we arrived at 2:50 AM instead of 12:10 AM.
We chose the Ibis Gare, located between the ONCF station and the Supratours bus terminal. We booked two nights from France for 79.85 €. To avoid the premium-rate call, just dial the hotel directly—they’ll handle the reservation. I’d signed up on the Ibis website beforehand for a discount (free and comes with perks).
On-site, we added 44 MAD for the tourist tax (11 MAD x 4 nights). We skipped breakfast—too pricey at 6.50 € per person. The hotel has a nice pool and a pleasant setting. The shower seals weren’t perfect, but the bedding was comfy, the linens soft, and the AC worked (though it was noisy). We were overall happy with it.
We had breakfast and lunch at a café/restaurant right across from the hotel—affordable and tasty.
For phones, we bought two Inwi SIM cards for 30 MAD each and a 5 GB internet top-up for 50 MAD—more than enough for our 16-day trip. Later, we added two 20 MAD call top-ups. Total phone budget for both of us: 150 MAD.
Taxis in Marrakech: No issues. We always asked for the meter—if a driver refused, we’d just move on. No haggling for us!
Day 1: We visited the Majorelle Garden (70 MAD per person). It was beautiful and peaceful. We walked there. In the afternoon, we took a taxi to Jemaa el-Fnaa square. The constant solicitations were exhausting—I felt like a guard dog fending people off. The worst part? We got lured deep into the medina to some sketchy spot under the pretense of seeing "Berber tanneries"—"last day!"—then had a guy grab our arms, demanding 200 MAD. I offered 50 MAD max since we hadn’t asked for anything. When he insisted, I threatened to go to the police. He finally let go for the 50 MAD. We headed back to the hotel to enjoy the pool before returning to the square for the evening. It was lively but noisy, and I found the vendors *way* too pushy. We walked back to the hotel—an hour-long stroll that was actually really nice. We kept no more than 150 MAD in our wallet at a time. We stuffed ourselves with smoothies—they’re *so* good.
Day 2: We left at 8:30 AM for Tinghir with Supratours, arriving at 4:45 PM instead of 4:00 PM (lots of roadwork). Tickets were 130 MAD per person + 5 MAD per checked bag. We stayed one night at the "Retour au Calme" hostel—super cozy! 150 MAD for a room with a private shower and toilet. AC was an extra 80 MAD per night (not mandatory) but worked great. Phone: +212 5248-34924. Breakfast was 30 MAD, and they offer tons of options, including budget-friendly choices like a couch for 80 MAD per person with shared showers/toilets. Half-board and full-board are also available. Mohamed and Alexandra are lovely. I booked by phone and paid on-site—they even picked us up from the bus station!
We took a taxi to the Todra Gorge—a breath of fresh air! It’s stunning and humbling. You feel tiny there. Shared taxis cost 8 MAD per person (fixed price). The organization was impressive. To get from the city center to the bus station: 3 MAD per person.
Day 3: We left at 4:00 PM for Merzouga, arriving at 9:30 PM. Tickets were 80 MAD per person + 5 MAD per checked bag. Upon arrival, we were greeted by Houssein, one of five brothers running the "Auberge Océan des Dunes." We had a lovely room with a private bathroom and kitchen access. Two rooms are available in this unit for 190 MAD per night for two, including breakfast.
Hi there,
I’m looking for a driver for a day in March to take us to the Oukaïmeden ski resort and bring us back. There’ll be 4 adults and 4 kids. Does anyone have a contact?
Thanks!
I'm looking for info on the route between Imilchil and Tabant—is it a dirt track, and what condition is it in? Any paved roads? We’ll have a 4x4. My GPS shows a track that would connect Imilchil directly to the Cathedral of Rocks (near Tilougguite), without taking the big detour via the R 306. I can’t find this track on any map. How long should we allow for the trip between Imilchil and Tabant? Is this route doable year-round? Are there any wadi crossings?
Thanks for any recent tips on this route! Best, Dominique
Thanks for any recent tips on this route! Best, Dominique
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 there,
A Morocco fan for 20 years, this time it’s the real deal—my 1200GSA is gonna see some country over 3 weeks. On the southern Morocco side, from M'Hamid to Sacred Oasis, I did this area quite a few years back but in a 4x4. My question is: is this trail rideable by motorcycle? Has anyone already tackled this trail by bike (in good conditions)?
Thanks in advance
A Morocco fan for 20 years, this time it’s the real deal—my 1200GSA is gonna see some country over 3 weeks. On the southern Morocco side, from M'Hamid to Sacred Oasis, I did this area quite a few years back but in a 4x4. My question is: is this trail rideable by motorcycle? Has anyone already tackled this trail by bike (in good conditions)?
Thanks in advance
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
Hi there,
Can you tell me if the road between Zagora and M'Gouna is easy or difficult for a 4x4? How much time and how many kilometers should I plan for? I’m traveling in May.
Thanks!
Hello,
Is it possible to consider wild camping with young children, mainly in the Anti-Atlas? It’s not an option for budget reasons but rather a way of traveling we enjoy.
If we get the landowner’s permission and offer compensation, is it feasible?
Happy New Year to you all
If we get the landowner’s permission and offer compensation, is it feasible?
Happy New Year to you all











