Though it’s less than 25 kilometers from the surf village of Taghazout to the Ryanair city of Agadir, I decided I wanted to hitchhike. Jonas was on the fence about it. So there was a chance I would do it solo while he’d take the bus.

We checked out of our Airbnb in Taghazout at 11:00 and walked down the steep, narrow alley to the msemmen breakfast restaurant we’d visited the previous day.

While waiting for our amlou, chocolate, and 2x cheese msemmen (28 Dirhams) to be readied, we talked plans. We decided we’d give hitchhiking a chance—together. At least until a bus to Agadir would show up, which Jonas said only costs 7.5 Dh per person. Since we didn’t want to get stuck in Aourir (aka “Banana Village”), we agreed we’d only take direct rides to Agadir. I had the أڭادير hitchhiking sign attached to the outside of my backpack ready for deployment.

We chowed down our msemmen while watching four kittens play with each other atop a parked car. As per usual in Morocco, some street musicians walked by and performed, putting their hats on other tourists eating breakfast.

Once we were done, we walked past the mosque of Taghazout and the taxis to the exit of the village. We took some photos and videos with the sign before trying to get to Agadir at 11:45.

The Wait

We had to move spots a couple of times to get out of the zone where people walk on the road instead of the shitty sidewalk to the beach. We eventually settled on a spot (coordinates: 30.543680232281122, -9.707426858642318) occasionally used by cars to stop. There was also a lot of car clownery with people backing up their cars onto the main road without looking.

I thought Jonas and I had agreed to try hitchhiking for half an hour till 12:15. After that, we’d keep hitchhiking until a bus would show. There’d be enough time to dash back to the bus stop if we spotted one, considering it takes ages to load up the fluctuating four or so people permanently waiting at the stop. There isn’t exactly a reliable schedule to look up, so that’s the best we can do in terms of planning. Since buses 32 and 33 first have to pass Taghazout, then turn around, there’d be ample warning.

But Jonas thought that half an hour was a lot. So we renegotiated to 20 minutes of hitchhiking and then catching a bus if it’s real. So we’ll see what comes first at 12:05.

There were a lot of petits taxis, grands taxis, and unmarked unofficial taxis. Sometimes they would still stop though we didn’t indicate interest, which would often overlap with actual hitchable vehicles passing.

A guy helping the people park at the beach parking talked to us about the hitchhiking sign. He said I should’ve written Agadir not only in Arabic but also in Latin below it. Not that there’s space for such a thing, but I don’t expect people to know the limitations of cardboard dimensions and readability.

Yeah, in hindsight I should’ve made this hitchhiking sign in Latin script, but when I made the sign in Essaouira the night before hitchhiking to Taghazout, I had no idea how touristy/international this village would be. And besides, I am trying to hitchhike mostly with locals, not foreigners. If fellow foreigners are comfortable picking up hitchhikers in Morocco – like Gonçalo yesterday in Paradise Valley – they can stop and ask what it says and I’m happy to tell.

A few campervans and hippie vans passed but with no luck. 12:05 rolled around and I told Jonas I was okay with taking the bus as well, as per our agreement. I asked him when check-in time was at our hotel in Agadir. He replied 13:30 on paper. If we end up taking the bus, we definitely won’t be there too early.

A few more minutes passed with drivers either ignoring us or reading the sign and saying no, we’re not going that far and smiling. I’d wave back to say thanks for considering. Many cars were already at capacity. Jonas and I would have a running discussion going on about whether the next vehicle is a taxi or not, and me promptly retracting the sign in response.

Agadir Direct

At 12:10, a car stopped. Two guys in the front. I said hello and they quickly said they were going to Agadir. We both got into the back of the car, which has been a struggle for a while though my backpack is much smaller than it was in 2022. What didn’t help was that the driver’s seat was almost horizontal, which left very little space for me. We raced off via the resort road between Taghazout and Tamraght in the direction of Agadir.

I remembered that if I’d been hitchhiking solo, I might have said no to this ride as I had told Jonas I’d probably only take rides with (at least) one woman present. Mostly as a method of preventing headaches and nonsense happening later. Of course, having a woman present isn’t the only factor. I’d also consider communication and good/bad vibes beforehand. I’ve hitchhiked cars full of men plenty of times in the past. But I had to admit I’m severely out of shape with dealing with men since I’ve been with Jonas for so long.

We spoke a mix of English and French with the drivers, one of whom lives in Paris in France. They asked where we’re from as well, which explained to them why we’re better at English than French. Asking if we liked Morocco, our answer was affirmative. I shared a bit about our route through Morocco so far, including the bit about taking the ferry from Málaga to Melilla and then crossing the land border to Nador. The guy in the passenger seat said drove from France and took the ferry between Algeciras/Tarifa and Tangier. Paris to Agadir is quite a long journey by car.

They’d been to Taghazout on a short trip. They asked us if we surfed, to which Jonas responded that we kitesurf. Our dirvers also didn’t surf. We told them we’d visited Le Vallée du Paradis the day before, which was nice for a randonnée. The minute a silence fell, they’d turn up the volume of the music. At this pace, we’ll be in Agadir in no time.

When between songs, I volunteered my name to them in Arabic, to which the driver responded that his name is Mohammed. The guy in the passenger seat said his name is Hamid with a very stong French pronuncation. They liked that Jonas is called Jonas/Yunus, which they called a Moroccan name. I like that no matter where we go, people claim Jonas as ‘theirs’. It’s a good name to have.

Past Aourir, we sped up some more with the Atlantic to our right and till the cliffs of Agadir appeared on the left in the distance. One such bluff had airplanes (coordinates: 30.436300536258813, -9.636289492121534) sticking over the edge for some reason? Apparently, these planes are restaurants and they’re part of a waterpark next door.

Mohammed asked us where in Agadir we’re staying. Jonas said Hotel Afoud. Hamid knew where that was, so they said they’d drop us off. We said it’s no problem for us to walk a little if it’s out of their way.

Next, I spotted the Kasbah of Agadir Oufella. It looks very shiny and renovated from down below, much like the renovated fortresses of the UAE. The cable car to the top was operating when we entered Agadir city. What I read online says a return ticket is a whopping €12 per person as foreigners. There’s also a bus (number 24) going up the mountain. Jonas isn’t interested in visiting Agadir Oufella, so we’ll probably sit this one out.

Once inside the city, we stopped the car and Hamid got out and got into a parked car with a French license plate. Hamid then drove off and guided Mohammed to our hotel. The pace of driving through the city remained quite GTA and there were multiple instances of other drivers backing up onto the road without looking. Our first impressions of Agadir were quite good.

Hamid drove into a small street and stopped the car as it was a dead end. Mohammed stopped behind him and we saw we’d arrived at Hotel Afoud. We thanked them for the ride and a security guard from the hotel took over. In their two cars, Mohammed and Hamid backed up and drove off.

Arrival time: 12:40. That was quite an efficient hitchhiking day in the end.

Two Days in Agadir

After having a drink at the terrace of the hotel and checking in, we did a bit of afternoon work from the room. It was still early. Our stay in Agadir was focused on preserving energy and buying snacks for the long bus ride from Agadir to Tarfaya and then hitchhiking to Laayoune in Western Sahara.

In the evening, we took an InDrive to Indian restaurant EpiCurry for some vegetarian biryani and chana masala. After that, we took an InDrive to the Marjane supermarket to buy some tea, shampoo, bus-friendly hummus with breadsticks, and catfood. There was a very sweet, VERY pregnant calico cat at the pharmacy across the street. When we returned to feed her, the two ladies working at the pharmacy provided a plate for her food. They also sometimes feed her, so they told us to don’t give her too much.

From there, we walked back to the hotel and relaxed the entire evening.

The following day, a Saturday, we had breakfast at the hotel and got more work done. In the afternoon, we visited Souq el Had with another InDrive. We got dates and olives and finally tried prickly pear aka cactus fruit (Darija: hendia or karmous el hindi—Indian fig).

For us they were 2 Dh apiece, so we both got one. The vendor offered us a toothpick and then you wait till the gloved man thinly slices around the fruit and gives it a squeeze. The pink ball of cactus fruit comes loose and then you pick it up with your toothpick and eat it. It was much seedier than I expected and the many stones aren’t small either. There was a lady pointing at the fruit she wanted and she ate multiple before paying. One was enough for us.

The market also had many people with pet turtles. I have no idea why, but it made me a bit sad. There were also lots of street cats and kittens, mostly around the fishmongers and butcheries with severed cow’s heads. We gave the cats some dry food.

This souq was a lot more laid-back than other markets in Morocco as the reviews mentioned. But then we went to the restaurant corner of the market, which was the pushiest I’ve ever seen. These guys just offer grilled fish or chicken and would not get out of Jonas’ way and keep following him. We ended up walking back to our entrance gate via the outside of the souq to eat some msemmen at a pleasant shop at Gate 12.

After that, we took an InDrive to the beach, close to the marina. From there, we walked over the beach and the corniche (promenade) back to our hotel. Some businesses still had the decorations from the Yennayer (Berber New Year) celebrations for the year 2975 that happened a few days ago. The walk from the beach to the hotel led past many resorts in various states of operation or decay. The amount of real estate just rotting away in the salty air is quite impressive.

We picked up a tabbouleh and fattoush salad at Bayt Al Mandi, fed some more cats at our hotel area, and spontaneously decided to buy two beers at the booze shop on the corner. We drank those with the sunset on our balcony. Then it was time to pack our bags for our long bus ride to Tarfaya.

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