The Moroccan coast: A disappointment or a pleasant surprise?

Week 07 - Taghazout to Sidi Kaouki

You last heard from us near Taghazout, where we had joined Jemma and Dom at a spot next to the sea at Anchor Point. Now a week of coastline awaits us, with it’s quaint but very touristy villages, which may have lost some of their charm over the years. And then there is Imsouane, a surf paradise which just over a month ago was partially bulldozed to the ground by the Moroccan government to make way for large luxury resorts. We set off, curious to discover what it's really like.

Day 43 - 7€ beer

Anchor Point (Taghazout)

In the morning we wake up by the sea after a peaceful night. We eat breakfast, put the coffee on and when it's ready we head to Jemma and Dom's van to say hello, as we hadn't run into them the night before. We make small talk and catch up on our adventures since we had last met in Tafraout.

Dom, who bodysurfs and is here at Anchor Point partly to attend the world championships that are taking place, takes out his wetsuit and gets ready to enter the water. Spotting the board on the roof of our van, he invites me to follow him.

I hesitate for a moment - I haven't surfed for practically two months. Not only because I haven't seen the sea for 4 weeks, but also because of a rib injury that has been plaguing me since the end of December. I'm definitely better, but I'm still not on top form. On the other hand, I do miss surfing, and getting back to it in good company is not such a bad idea. So I dust off my wetsuit and board and follow Dom into the water.

The conditions today are not the best and the sea is very rough, but I catch a few whitewash waves anyway and the mere fact of being back in the water with my board is enough to make me feel good.

I return to the van all in all happy, but hungry, and together with Joy we eat an excellent sandwich. In the early afternoon, we sit in the sun on the cliff, watching the bodysurfing competition with local favourite Brahim Iddouch competing against other champions in the waves of Anchor Point.

Later in the afternoon we head for Taghazout. We walk 2km along the coast to reach the village, eager to see it up close. The first impact is quite imposing - on the crowded streets we hear more English than Arabic or French and we walk past several shirtless men and women in bikinis. For a moment we feel as if we have been catapulted out of Morocco. This feels like a typical European seaside village in the middle of August. We don't let it bother us too much and continue our exploration of the town, which is still quaint and very picturesque, with its narrow streets and well-maintained old white buildings overlooking the sea.

The countless surf shops alternate with street food vendors, intent on grilling the day's catch in front of the hungry eyes of tourists. We stroll along a cove filled with blue fishermen's boats and continue along the cliff to Berber Surf, a hostel with an adjoining bar and a panoramic terrace. We need to cool off and want to enjoy the sea view on this late sunny afternoon. The location is nice, the clientele entirely international. We sit on the floor on cushions at a low table. The waiter bring us the menu and a faint smile escapes as I glimpse the beer among the various items. I glance over... 7 Euro!

We decide to treat ourselves anyway.

After all, it has been almost two months since we have enjoyed a cold beer in a bar. And now seems like just the right time. We also order two tapas and enjoy our aperitif in the sun, making small talk and losing track of time. Only when the bill in dirhams is in front of me do I remember that I am not in Spain in Portugal. I pay with a card, a rarity here in Morocco, and we walk back to the van.

Once back at Anchor Point, we watch the sun disappear into the water as we enjoy a tomato juice. In the meantime, the warden on duty comes by to collect the 20 dirham fee for the second night we are about to spend here. 

Curiosity of the day: Taghazout has experienced tremendous development over the years. Once a sleepy Berber fishing village, in the 1960s a hippie destination, today it has become the surfing capital of Morocco. Additionally, many luxury hotels such as Hilton, Fairmont and Hyatt have established resorts here in recent years, proving that this charming fishing village is growing in popularity among all types of tourists.

Day 44 - A day of surfing at Taghazout

Taghazout - Camping Terre d'Ocean

After breakfast we head by van to Taghazout, where I plan to go surfing at Panorama Beach. We leave the van in a car park above the beach, which is very popular with the many vanlifers who sleep there. The surf session is not the best, the conditions are not ideal and I am probably not in the best shape. I don't realise that more than three hours pass, during which I barely catch a couple of waves. I return to the van to meet Joy, who is happy to know that I still exist.

After eating, we chat with Jeff, a nice Dutch guy we met there. For the night we decide to continue on to a campsite not far away. The reviews of the car park where we are staying are not the best. Despite the central location and the nice view, several people complain that it is difficult to sleep because of the presence of stray dogs (very quiet during the day) that bark all night.  

On top of needing to fill up with water, empty the chemical toilet, strong winds are forecast for the night and the Terre d'Ocean campsite just north of Taghazout seems a good solution.

We arrive after 6pm, where we are greeted by the warden who surprisingly speaks a little German. The campsite boasts an area that is as exposed and wild, just as we like, surrounded by nature and with a spectacular view of the sea, far from white refrigerators on wheels. Given the weather forecast, however, we decide to take refuge in the classic pitches between the campers.

At sunset, I take the opportunity to pick up my guitar again after several days. Dinner follows at the campsite restaurant with average food and prices but good service.

After a refreshing shower, we fall asleep clean and perfumed for once.

Curiosity of the day Surprisingly in Morocco, we met many locals who addressed us in German or even Swiss-German. Many more than we encountered in any European country. Some have been to Germany, some to Switzerland, some simply work with Swiss customers and therefore know the basics of the language. It was something unexpected and pleasant, which often made us smile.

Day 45 - Change of plan, too much wind

Camping Terre d'Ocean - Desert Point

At 6.30 a.m. we are already awake because of the strong gusts of wind. We struggle to get back to sleep for at least an hour, but then recover, delaying the alarm clock until 9.15 a.m. We get up and decide to start the day calmly.  We do some work on the computer, play the guitar, and take a quick shower when it's time to hit the road again. We set off again around noon with the toilet cleaned, the grey water tank empty and 100 litres of water loaded.

We head towards Tamri, where we have identified an area in the sand dunes to spend the night. However, we have not reckoned with the still very strong wind, which increases as we proceed along the coast. Keeping control of our almost 3-metre-high Sprinter in these conditions is not exactly a walk in the park. We therefore decide that it is not the best day to head further north and especially not to sleep in the sand. 

We turn on our heels and retrace our steps. We drive for about 15 minutes in the opposite direction, back towards Taghazout. We stop about 5 kilometres before the village, not too far from the campsite from which we had left a few hours earlier.

We park on a cliff overlooking the sea, with a spectacular view of the ocean. We are near Desert Point, one of the best spots for surfing. Conditions permitting, I'd like to get back in the water the next day.

There are many vans parked in this area, but everyone finds their own corner and has enough space to feel alone in the middle of nature. We chat with our Swiss neighbours (and young people for once) before dinner, and at sunset we take a walk along the cliff overlooking the sea, watching the more than thirty people in the water surfing.

We eat something inside the van, while outside the wind decides it's not time to leave yet and doesn't seem to want to leave us alone. The exposed location where we parked certainly doesn't help, but that's also the beauty of living in a van. Every day you can choose where you fall asleep and what view you wake up to, but the task is not always easy. You often have to take into account many aspects, such as weather, local laws, the slope of the terrain, safety and much more. And finding the right compromise is not always easy.

Curiosity of the day After sandstorms, the roads in Morocco are often cleared, as is done in Europe in the case of snow. On the streets you will find workers working with brooms, as well as large machines, which, on the same principle as snowploughs, clear the roads of sand. 

Day 46 - The man who stared at the waves

Desert Point

Sometimes the best days are also those where there is not so much to tell. Yes, nothing transcendental or sensational happened today, no twists and turns, strange encounters or anything else. We did, however, enjoy a day in the middle of nature, overlooking the sea with an incredible view.

I spend most of the day looking at the sea and watching the waves, waiting for the ideal moment to enter the water. Periodically I postpone entering the water, hoping that as time passes the conditions will improve. However, an hour or so before sunset, with the waves still small, I realise that I have waited too long and missed the ideal moment.

Without much hope, just to give it one last try, I decide to go for a walk and watch the waves closely one last time, while Joy goes for a run along the coast.

Nothing new, there is no one in the water and the conditions do not seem ideal. While resigned and aware of having thrown away a day (surf-wise) I prepare to return to the van, I am approached by Armand, a Belgian guy. He asks me about the spot, tells me that he has been surfing for years, but has just arrived in Morocco. Being inexperienced (in surfing and the area) I can't be of much help to him. So we both turn to a third guy (Italian) on the spot, who has three boards in his car. He probably knows all about it. He gives us two pointers, but advises us against going in. According to him the conditions are not great, he seems to want to try another spot not too far away.

But Armand and I, although we have only just met, have one thing in common: a great desire to surf. We both support each other and decide to give it a go. We still have 45 minutes of light left.

I hurry back to the van, change my clothes, grab my board and ten minutes later I'm back there, ready to enter the water. In the meantime, the conditions seem to have improved, Armand and I promise to keep an eye on each other, we go down the steep and arduous path and enter the water. Armand immediately catches the first wave in front of him and his smile needs no words to explain what he is feeling. It takes me a little longer but then my turn arrives and the feeling is priceless. One wave is enough to tell me that the whole day's wait was worth it.

I look around. The colours are beautiful, with the dark green of the sea contrasting with the orange of the sky and the sun about to disappear. Only Armand and I are in the water accompanied by the sound of nature, nothing else.

At the top of the cliff, I notice the silhouettes of the Italian guy and other people who have arrived in the meantime, watching us from above. As if by magic, a few minutes later there are more than ten of us in the water. Even though it was better before, I enjoy the last few minutes in the water for one of the sessions I remember with most pleasure so far and I return to the van tired, but truly fulfilled.

I find Joy welcoming me, who immediately notices the satisfaction and happiness on my face. She too is enthusiastic about her run. Over the sea and under a starry sky, we end a simple day together, but one that makes us feel good.

This day has taught me that one must never stop believing in one's dreams or desires, no matter how big or small. But above all, that one must know how to seize signals and opportunities on the fly. Sometimes a small event (in my case the arrival of Armand) is enough to change the course/mood of an entire day. 

Curiosity of the day Another thing I learnt today is that apparently, staring at waves for hours doesn’t make them get bigger or better.

Day 47 - A sea of people

Desert Point - Imsouane

We leave Desert Point after two wonderful, peaceful days and head for Imsouane, a small seaside village with the longest wave in North Africa, very popular with surfers, especially longboarders,

On the way, we stop in Tamri to run two errands - buy a Maroc Telecom Internet recharge card, some excellent fresh bread, some tomatoes and a kilo of tangerines.

We continue along a winding and very scenic road. We stop for lunch in a large clearing among the trees just above Imsouane, from which there is a spectacular view of the bay. Joy makes two excellent sandwiches with fresh tomato and La Vache qui rit. We bought a 64-pack (mea culpa) and will be carrying them around for a long time to come.

After lunch we get a fresh Nutella crepe from a street vendor in a lay-by a hundred metres down the road. We boycott the coffee, as they ask for 10 DH, about 1 euro.

After driving the remaining handful of kilometers, we arrive in Imsouane and look for a strategic parking spot. We find one with a sea view and large signs prohibiting parking, but where a dozen other campers seem to be spending the day and night undisturbed.

A man immediately shows up in front of us, Mustapha - a self-appointed parking attendant who demands money to park or sleep there. We decide not to pay him, not because of the cost itself, but so as not to contribute to the further propagation of this trend of illegal parking that seems to irritate even the local Moroccans themselves. Even more so, we do not think it is smart to pay a person to park in a public place where signs clearly forbid it.

With the parking diatribe over, I enter the water at Cathedral Point, one of two surf spots in Imsouane. After a few good waves, the sea gets too rough for my abilities. I then decide to get out and walk across to the Bay, Imsouane's second spot.

The Bay is where 99 percent of the people surf in Imsouane. The sea is calmer and the waves cleaner and famously long. If you catch the right waves, it seems you can surf for more than 90 seconds straight. This makes the spot very crowded throughout the day, with large crowds of beginners and schools.

Personally, I have never been around so many people in the water, where everyone does what they like or what their abilities allow them to do. At times it becomes almost dangerous, people get hot headed and nervous easily. Despite everything, I manage to have a good time and come out of the water exhausted after dark.

In the evening we eat at a good little local restaurant and return to the camper van, again parked in front of Cathedral Point. We spend a fairly quiet night there, despite some noise until one in the morning and the many barking dogs. Spending the night on the street in towns or cities is definitely not what we prefer, but the convenience of being right by the sea and just a few minutes' walk from the town is unparalleled.

Curiosity of the day In January, several hostels, restaurants and characteristic buildings in Imsouane were razed to the ground by the Moroccan government. Apparently they were not up to standard and the operators did not have the necessary licences to run these businesses. Reportedly, they will be replaced by luxury resorts and restaurants, especially in view of the 2030 World Cup. Apparently, the owners and residents were only given 24 hours' notice before the bulldozers and bulldozers showed up to destroy everything. The signs are still evident and we have often looked for a place with great reviews on Google only to find ourselves with our feet in the rubble. Despite this, we can say that we liked Imsouane very much, but we imagine it had much more charm before the destruction.

Day 48 - The cat is on the table

Imsouane

We open the van door and stand spellbound admiring the sea and the magical atmosphere of the early morning hours. The beauty before our eyes makes us forget for a few moments that we are parked on the side of a road.

After a surfing session in the bay, we walk into town to eat fresh fish in one of the small restaurants overlooking the bay. We choose one that inspires us, although it does not look too busy. We take a seat on the terrace upstairs, from where there is an excellent view of the bay. From time to time I am distracted by the man in the apron intent on cooking my sea bream over the grill.

We enjoy our lunch with a few stray dogs lying beside us and an insistent cat staring at me, with an almost threatening look, as if to say 'if you don't give me some, I'll take it myself'. I don't let him intimidate me and continue to eat undaunted, managing to keep him at a distance.

As we get up to go in search of a coffee, the cat realises his time has come, he doesn't think twice and sits down on the table, starting to enjoy the leftover sea bream, as if he were at a Roman banquet in Julius Caesar's court.

We find good coffee at the Shaka Restaurant, which offers both Nespresso and Moka. We opt for the Mocha and also order two Nutella crepes to accompany our coffee. An excellent choice. As we pay the bill, we notice the guys intent on preparing and baking a pizza, which doesn't look bad at all. 'Shall we come back and try it in the next few days?' I ask Joy, who nods with a smile.

After another evening surf session, we change spots for the night. To be a bit more relaxed, we decide to return above Imsouane, where we had stopped for lunch the previous day. We thought it was a very nice and quiet place. We drive a few kilometres uphill to get out of the village and a few minutes later, in total darkness, we find our spot in the trees, not too far from three other vans.

I rinse my wetsuit, hang it outside to dry and take a shower while Joy prepares something to eat. The main road with little traffic that passes about fifty metres further on but we don't even hear it and we fall asleep in total peace.

Curiosity of the day In Imsouane, but we imagine also in other seaside resorts around the world, boats are pushed into the sea and recovered upon their return by a tractor. Initially we were confused as to why there was a tractor on the beach, but when we saw it at work everything became clearer.

Day 49 - The long awaited pizza

Imsouane - Sidi Kaouki

Today again we start the day with a surfing session in the Bay of Imsouane, the last before a change of scenery. We head back down to Imsouane right after breakfast. I put on my wetsuit still damp from the night before and jump into the water among the crowd for a couple of hours of fun.

Once we're done, we head back to the Shaka Restaurant for lunch, to sample that great-looking pizza we had seen paraded in front of our noses the day before. I order a pizza, Joy a burrito and we share. It's our first pizza in over 50 days and it's not the long abstinence and post-surf hunger that give us the impression it wasn't bad at all. After a good lunch - the burrito was also excellent - we give up coffee having run out of cash and set off for Sidi Kaouki, a small village on the coast a little to the north, near Essaouira.

We arrive there after an hour and a half. On the way we stop three times, first to pick up another 2000 DH and then to look for a place to fill up with water. The first spot we find has no thread for attaching the barrel, the second fortunately does. We fill up about 75 litres and drive the last 10 km to Sidi Kaouki.

We arrive at the entrance to the village and are greeted by strong gusts of wind. We look around for a moment and decide what to do. We notice a few campers in the dirt car park in front of the beach, where it is possible to stay for 20 dirhams. But you know, we don't like being wedged between other campers in the middle of town.

Despite the wind, and some mention of the police in park4night reviews, we decide to look for a wild spot. We venture at a walking pace along a dirt road full of rocks, which runs alongside the beach, and after not even a kilometre we find a little spot we like. As we go for a walk towards the centre of the village, another Swiss van from Geneva comes along and parks itself about fifty metres away from us. On our way back to the van, we spot the carcass of a dead donkey in the trees near the beach, with several stray dogs that come there from time to time to feed. This does not leave us indifferent, but we try not to let it bother us too much and think it is part of nature. 

In the evening, we eat in the van with the wind struggling to die down and fall asleep, with a few dogs barking in the background.

Curiosity of the day Today, for the first time since we have been in Morocco, we were stopped by the police. In an awkward and unconvinced manner, they tried to reprimand us and/or find something to fine us for, without succeeding. We have often read and heard about travellers being stopped, falsely accused of exceeding the speed limit and fined. There are also those who have told us that in Morocco at checkpoints it is always a good idea to have the note ready inside your passport. We, apart from this little episode today, have never had such problems and have always had a positive impression of the police.

The first seven days along the west coast of Morocco thus come to an end. It has been a different week from what we have experienced so far. We saw more tourists in these seven days than in the remaining five weeks in Morocco and at times we had the impression of being catapulted out of Morocco.

On the other hand, we have seen beaches and slept in beautiful places with a view of the sea, which personally always manages to give me a thrill. In addition, I am happy to have been able to surf continuously, a sport that continues to excite me despite being a beginner. Finally, we were able to explore small villages, try restaurants and meet new people in a very relaxed setting. 

In conclusion, this area of Morocco was certainly not a disappointment. In our opinion, however, it does not show those typical and characteristic aspects that made us fall in love with this country and does not let you get in touch with the real Morocco.

But if you are looking for a place where you can feel at home, surrounded by western tourists, and at the same time savour some small aspect of Morocco, you will not be disappointed. As the photos show, the places are still spectacular.

We'll be in touch again soon. Next week we head back inland, via Marrakech and up into the Atlas Mountains, to meet the locals and support a project we can't wait to tell you about in detail. Stay tuned, bella lì.