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Marrakech to Imsouane:
We have driven in cities with dreadful traffic and Marrakech is up there in the top ten. Once we had taken a turn too soon, it was a nightmare to get back on the right road out of the city. We did have a good tour of the back streets of the city where no tourist ever ventures but none of it would make you want to go back. Where the poor locals live is never in the brochures.
We wanted to get to the south and to the coast with our intention to head for Agadir. The guide books told us Agadir was a resort city built again after its destruction in an earthquake years ago. This didn't sound particularly appealing so we cut off the motorway and headed across to the coast short of Agadir. One attraction was some cascades marked on the map, so that seemed as good a reason as any to take the roads drawn in very small lines.
The roads were spectacular! Into the mountains we headed on treacherous, one lane, potholed hairpin bends. Fortunately we encountered very little traffic: we only passed 2 utes, one truck and a minivan taxi in the hours we were on the road. Remote indeed!
We finally found the cascades and parked. The short walk brought us to a viewpoint in the middle of the dry riverbed. Looking up, there were the cascades - but with not one drop of water to be seen. Interesting though to see the long swathe of smooth eroded rock which would normally be hidden behind the curtain of water. But not interesting enough to spend any more time there.
On the coast we headed to Imsouane Camping which Paul had recommended from his last trip a few years ago. Whatever he remembered from then was not exactly relevant any more. It was owned by a young British man who, it was patently clear, was jaded and had lost interest in the project. The facilities were less than adequate and when we saw the state of the showers we just didn't bother. We were the only van there for the night; anyone with sense had headed elsewhere.
Imsoune village is obviously a surfing mecca in the high season. Shops displayed surfboards and T-shirts and offered lessons but it all looked a bit sad and rundown with no crowds to liven the place up. The little harbour was crowded with fishing boats, many being repaired, and net menders with their nets spread out over the ground.
With a strong wind blowing making the place less than inviting, we moved on.
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