Agadir

This is the destination for tomorrow but we have to find a bus that goes there first. It's a three hour ride south down the coast. Should be doable.

And indeed if was. Found the bus station OK and the right bus, bought a ticket from a man standing outside it, and got on. It was a rickety old thing, a local bus which had seen better days but that's all there was. The air conditioning was simple - open windows, the split seat covers had been stitched back together and the driver's sun visor was two sheets of old newspaper taped to the inside of the windscreen.

But the brakes worked and the driver kept us right way up and on the road for the entire three hour journey. The other passengers seemed quite intrigued by our presence too, as well as amiably inclined, nodding and smiling each time one of us caught their eye.

The bus took the coast road through towns and villages, making numerous pick up or set down stops,

while the half way point was marked by a 45 minute halt outside a butchers shop, with the butcher swishing flies away from hanging meat with a mop, and a man cooking tagines next door.

A local baker got on the bus while it was parked, with a tray of freshly baked brioche, so we bought a couple of loaves from him.

The first half of the journey was pretty boring with nothing much other than olive groves and dusty expanses to look over. But the second bit was through some hills and along the coast, tottering along the edge of the sun baked and very narrow road.

At times my view was down rocky slopes which fell away not far from where the bus tyres were on the Tarmac, but Nadine had a driver's eye vista, often staring straight at other drivers as either we or they made seemingly impossible overtakes. But I keep telling her she should only worry about the direct hits rather than the near misses because its a waste of time otherwise, and as we didn't have any if the former today, it was all OK. But I'd much rather have had the cliffhanger views that I had than the full on dodgems that she did.

The views from the hills were pretty spectacular, as was the wild coast with white topped waves crashing over partly submerged rocks and onto the shore. There was nobody shout either, which added to the remote feeling and isolation.

As we neared Agadir, a few small fishing vessels began to appear, anchored maybe a kilometre from shore. They were presumably fishing, probably for sardines. A bit further on still, the boats were joined by surfers , and bigger ships further out, on their way north up the coast from the port of Agadir.

Dropping down from the hills that surround Agadir, you begin to get a sense of just how far this place has grown in the past half a century, thanks mostly to the port and latterly tourism, which has seen the emergence of apartment blocks and hotels.

The thing that is most noticeable though is the absence of anything old. No medina, no old mosques, no narrow streets or alleyways. That's because the city was razed by an earthquake in 1960 which killed half the population ; so great was the devastation that most if the 18000 victims were left buried in situ, covered with lime and then covered over. A huge mound at the foot if the kasbah marks this mass grave, and the city began anew a few kilometres away along the beachfront, engendering Agadir's emergence as a resort city. Apartment blocks, hotels and fast food chains as well as European style beachwear shops and bars stretch out along the wide promenades.

The formula has obviously worked very well and brought wealth to the area, and although we made use of one of the hotels, its not the Morocco we came to see. We'll be off to Marrakesh tomorrow lunchtime on yet another bus.