Feb 21st: Paradise Valley and Immouzer Waterfalls

The road to Paradise valley heads inland from the coast at Banana Village, a few miles from the campsite. After half an hour driving through arid countryside, we arrived at the river that signals the start of Paradise Valley.

The river is lined with palm trees and cuts through a long gorge that can just about accommodate the road and the river. The road must be impassable after heavy rain, but is well surfaced although not very wide.

The valley ends abruptly after 6 or 7 miles and the road starts to climb sharply, giving some splendid views. Lots of hairpins, and the going was slow, so we took a break at a café with a terrace looking back towards the way we had come. Photos of panoramic views never seem to do justice to the depth and scale of the scenery that you perceive at the time, but this is the fine view from the café terrace.

So onwards and upwards to the waterfalls. These carried a much greater volume of water in past times: nowadays irrigation requirements have siphoned off most of it, but on certain festival days they allow the whole flow to go over. What we saw was impressive, so the full works must be spectacular. The falls cascade down in stages and from several separate points. From the top of one of these water drops a local man was making jumps into a small plunge pool, probably a 30 metre dive, all for the hope of a few dirhams tip. We picnicked by the falls and had coffee in a nearby café, from which the following photo was taken. It was a truly delightful day, with warm sunshine all the way.

Feb16th: Sidi Ifni

Today we are visiting Sidi Ifni, 100 miles south of Agadir and not far from where civilisation runs out and the desert, stone and rock rather than sand, takes over.

On the way, we called at Aglou Plage, a small, very new beach resort in the middle of nowhere, where we picnicked for lunch. Small it may have been, but it sported a military guard post that can be seen on the right of our group, complete with keenly alert sentry feigning a soporific pose in his chair. He did have a use, though, in commandeering the key to the beach toilets for us to use. These were squat toilets, for the use of which we were invited to leave a 1 dirham tip (8p). But leave it where? Ah yes, lob it into the floor hole, Three Coins In The fountain style, whilst making a wish invoking the protection of the anti-dysentery angel.

This is the smart new prom at Aglou plage, clearly designed by an architect with railway experience.
And now 50 miles along a lovely coast road to quirky time-capsule, Sidi Ifni.

It’s totally blue-and-white art deco architecture, having been built between 1934 and the rest of the decade by Spain, who occupied the town as Spanish territory between 1934 and 1969 when Morocco blockaded the land borders and the Spanish evacuated. Here’s another example below, the lighthouse. The town is built on a headland commanding beautiful views of the sea.

Many of the buildings are in a state of decay as the photo beneath shows, which would have been a magnificent structure in its day. It’s a shame that this town, unique because all of the architecture is of the same design and period, is simply falling to bits. It is currently just retrievable but will soon go beyond the point of no return, and this is the likely scenario because there is no huge tourist potential to tempt the necessary investment this far south.

We returned via Tiznit, another walled town, but dusk was falling and we had another 2 hours to the campsite, so we didn’t stop. A 250 mile long day out, but well worth it

Feb13th: Taroudannt

Taroudannt is an ancient walled town 2 hours drive from the campsite. We drove just past the town and found a delightful picnic spot with the snow-covered High Atlas range in the background.

Taroudannt’s walls and some buildings are made of pisé, a traditional, easily obtainable building material comprising mud and gravel. The disadvantage is that it is quickly eroded by winter rains so needs constantly patching up. But this is also an advantage in the tourist age because the rapid weathering process gives any pisé structure a centuries-old appearance within a few years.

The town centre is a warren of fascinating alleys and atmospheric covered-in markets, easy to get lost in because there is no way to orientate yourself. Can’t somebody in the electronic world come up with a virtual ball of string? A SatNav would do except they don’t seem to cover Morocco. However, Derick our ex-navy man did produce a compass that, quite literally, led us out of the maze!

Feb 12th: Agadir

We caught the local bus from outside the camp gates, 20 minutes into the centre of Agadir. Agadir is not noted for its historic buildings as the city was completely destroyed by the earthquake in 1960 that also killed 15,000 out of the 50,000 inhabitants. The gate below is the entrance to the garden that commemorates this tragedy, being built out of bits of the rubble.

The city was bulldozed following the earthquake rather than patched up, to prevent the spread of typhoid, and the rebuild seems to have been successful in creating a functional yet pleasant town. The impression is of space, with public parks and no tower blocks or tall buildings apart from the minarets. It may be that fear of another earthquake steered the planners away from high-rise, but the end result compares most favourably with the UK concrete slab soul-less new towns of the 50’s and 60’s that are from exactly the same era. The mosque shown here is particularly attractive in its proportions.

But rebuilding Moroccan attitudes can be much tougher! Take begging, for example. It is traditional in Morocco and giving alms is sanctioned by the Moslem religion. However, the current king Mohammed VI decided a few years ago that begging deterred tourists, so he banned it. But hard-core beggars still persist and this is a dilemma for both officialdom and the tourists. We have so much more than the average Moroccan, what harm does it do to give a few dirhams to a beggar?
So here we are at this cafe when an old beggar woman (probably about our age!) hassled us for money. Instantly, a security man appeared and attempted to shoo her off, but she was having none of it, and went for him with her stick. I was sitting between them, in the empty chair nearest the road, and quickly made a dash for safety.
The security man was polite and respectful to her but firm, and actually took the stick off her. She shuffled off shouting, being reunited with her stick when she had reached a safe distance. So what does a tourist do? The answer must be to give money only in return for a service you need, that way people have the self-respect of having earned it. Old ladies excepted, of course!

Feb 8th Onwards: Camping Atlantica d’Imourane

We have arrived at our first long-stay destination, near Agadir. It is a brand-new site by the seashore, and faces west giving us some lovely sunsets. As nice as the site is- seen one and you’ve seen ‘em all- a sunset makes a much prettier picture.

Imourane is next to Aourir, better known as banana village from the local crops of tiny, sweet bananas that every shop seems to sell. Many sell only bananas. How is it possible to make a living from selling only bananas? They aren’t even expensive at 60p a kilo.

Any large gathering in Morocco results in what, at first glance, appears to be chaos. The local market is no exception. At the bottom end of the market, so great was the press of people, vehicles and animals that it wasn’t possible to take a photo with enough depth of field to show it the way it was. But it all seems to work because nobody hassles, you just flow with the crowd like a river current and peel off or stop where you want to.

We had an evening meal in the village, with entertainment thrown in. Moroccan music and dancing isn’t perhaps the most riveting spectacle because it’s very repetitive, but it’s different. One of the dances is particularly odd where they form a line and shuffle along shaking their shoulders like they are doing a Ted Heath laugh. I’d like to report that the tajines we had were delicious, but the consensus was that the chickens were roadrunners i.e. spare and meatless. I suppose at £4.20 a head, which included the floorshow, we couldn’t really complain.

Feb 6th: Essaouira

We arrived at Essaouira to find the campsite full. Fortunately there was a motor caravan parking area nearby but with no water, electrics or toilets. That’s not a problem for a couple of nights as we carry spare water, have on-board loo, battery for lights and gas for cooking. We paid a charge of £3 per night that included 24- hour security by a guardian and dog. Dunes at the back leading to the beach. So here we are, all looking pretty happy: from left to right, Derick, Helen, Paul, Jane and Trish. I'm holding the camera.

Essaouira is another lovely old walled town like El Jadida, and looks older than its 1770 completion date. It was designed by a French military architect, on the orders of the local Sultan. The photo is a typical example of the style, complete with typical tourist shop and shopkeeper.

In fact, the town is full of tourist shops but still manages to retain an authentic Moroccan feel. The atmosphere is relaxed which is maybe why the area was a focus for hippy communities back in the 60s and 70s, with famous names like Jimi Hendrix spending time there.

Morocco is a blend of old and new in no particular order. It has an excellent mobile phone network and internet connections but we are observing many tasks carried out in the traditional way, for instance the boat repair in the photo below. Derick is an ex-naval man and commented that they would have repaired boats in this way since time immemorial, slowly bending the spar to shape, nailing it in and caulking it with pitch, although he was sure that they were using a more high-tech modern sealant than pitch.

Feb5th: El Jadida

We spent an extra day at El Jadida in order to visit the old town, a World Heritage site. It was built by the Portuguese in the 16th century with surviving fortified walls, and was subsequently modified by the French and Arabs. An important part of the defences was securing a water supply, and a huge cistern was constructed in the centre of the old town for this purpose. It’s open for visiting and a shallow depth of water has been left inside to produce amazing reflections from the sunlight entering through the circular roof opening. The cistern was used as a film location for Orson Welles production of Othello, which I gather was a box office flop, but which has since acquired critical acclaim due to its age. There’s hope for the Carry-On films yet. Shame they didn’t make a “Carry On Cistern”.

Continuing with the frivolity theme, I couldn’t help recording the café sign below. Could this have been Jacque’s dream when he retired, to run a little café in a run- down street in El Jadida?

There also appears to be a thriving ship building industry, for traditional large fishing boats. There were several in various stages of construction, and the one in the picture is in the early stages with just the wooden skeleton. The basic designs are all the same and must go back centuries. Anyone notice a similarity to Noah’s Ark?



Walking back to the campsite from town in the early evening we saw a huge roost of eagrets within a large walled enclosure not open to the public. The photo only captures a small part of it and as dusk was falling hundreds more were flocking in, so there were eventually many thousands of them. It was interesting that within this mass of eagrets was a group of half a dozen crows that were determined not to be intimidated by the influx so stayed firmly put- we’ve got as much right here as you have, mate.

Feb 2nd: into Morocco

The fast ferry from Tarifa to Tangier really is fast, as you can see from its wake. It covers the 20 miles in 45 minutes. By contrast, the customs control at Tangier port proceeded at snails pace. It took about an hour and a half to process 20 vehicles, none of which were lorries. So what took all the time, considering all our group’s documents were in order? Simple inefficiency: one official in a splendid uniform vetting all the papers, surrounded by countless sub-officials and non-officials doing very little. But this is why we’re here- to look through a window into another culture.

First overnight stop is at Moulay Busselham, only 80 miles from Tangier. This pleasant town is just off the motorway and has a convenient campsite, with an unexpected visitor appearing on the doorstep. We fed it, of course. It would be fair to say that the magnificent cockerel looked in much better condition than the average Moroccan male.

Moulay is named after a 10th century Egyptian holy man whose shrine is nearby. His speciality miracle is to cure psychological problems by the sufferer being locked in his shrine for 48 hours. Statistics are not available for the proportion of those who are cured as opposed to those who emerge stark, raving bonkers.

Sat 29th to Tue 1st Feb: At the Gates of Africa

We have joined up with the two sets of friends who are travelling with us to Morocco, Paul & Trish, and Derick and Helen. The meet-up campsitesite is at Conil, 40miles from Tarifa from where our ferry will depart tomorrow for Tangiers. We went to the port yesterday to book the crossing and have a day out.

Apart from being our port of departure, Tarifa is an historic and interesting place where the main architectural influence is Moorish, as this entrance gate to the old town shows. Some of the streets are so narrow that you could shake hands with the neighbours opposite from the balcony.

The buildings are mainly white and cube shaped, very much like old Moroccan towns, and the faded, peeling paint in this square adds to the impression of being in North Africa. Notice the balcony on the left is held up by two yellow jacks. Do we need to go to all the way to Morocco?

The square was so full of character, our group decided to have lunch at the café in the far corner. We’d got the ferry tickets at a much better price than expected, had a fascinating walk around Tarifa, and it was sunny and warm. So we were in excellent spirits. And this is a good example of where the camera does lie. Just look at the expressions on our party’s faces- we could have all just had our wallets pinched!

Here’s the top of the old town walls- but what do you see: a forest of TV aerials, about a dozen in that one apartment block. A fair guess would be one for each dwelling in poorer areas or even whole countries.

So, here's a thought. To carry out a quick and cheap population census:
1.establish the average family size
2.total population = average family size times number of TV aerials (or sat. dishes).

A final piece of folklore information. The town of Tarifa gave us the word tariff because it was the first town in history to charge a levy on goods landed through its port.