Plage Blanche - Morocco's most nerve-racking piste

Week 06 - From Tahouaout to Taghazout

Another week and an and another exciting programme. After last week’s mechanical problems, we’re finally back to grinding out kilometres in the desert, on a mix of pistes that will take us to Tan-Tan, the southernmost point of our Moroccan journey. From there, we travel along the coast on a rocky dirt road overlooking the sea until we reach the nerve-racking crossing of Plage Blanche, a 30km-long white beach that may only be crossed at low tide. There was no shortage of difficulties and interesting encounters, which made this a truly eventful and exciting week.

Day 36 - Back on track

Tahouaout > Labouirat

It’s 11a.m. After a quiet night spent along a dirt track a stone’s throw away from the main road, we set off again in the direction of Assa. From there we hope to finally tackle over 200km of track, which we had to postpone due to our mechanical problems, and which will take us through the desert to Tan-Tan, a small town close to the sea.

The route to Assa takes us along a very picturesque road, which winds its way through a canyon with characteristic rock formations and small villages hidden among the palm trees.

The spectacle is soon over, and we are back on long, monotonous straights through a desolate empty landscape. We decide to stop on the side of the road for a small lunch break and then shortly afterwards make a brief stop in the village of Foum El Hassane. There we fill up with gas, managing to pay by card (not always taken for granted in Morocco) and buy some fresh bread in a local shop for a couple dirhams.

About 10km after Assa, we cross a dried-up oued (river) and immediately afterwards take a right turn onto a dirt track, leaving the asphalt behind. We are once again in the dust, and it is here that the piste to Tan-Tan begins. Now comes the fun.

The first few kilometres are on a wide gravel road, which is not too difficult. Further on, however, the scenery changes and we are first met with rough rocks and plateaus, then smooth sandy stretches. We meet only a few motorbikes going the other direction, mostly locals.

When the sun is ready to set and we have covered over 50km of track, we look around in search of a cosy corner for the night. We discard the first one, given the presence of a herd of camels and its shepherd, probably a Berber nomad. Continuing along the track a few hundred metres further, we take a less beaten path to the left, which leads us into a small valley. Under an old tree, we find a place that seems suitable to spend the night. Looking around, we notice a few traces left by some nomadic families who must have made their home there in the past. Otherwise, there are no signs of life, and everything seems quiet.

Before darkness falls, we take a walk to the top of the hill behind our van. From there we enjoy the last rays of sunshine and collect a few special stones, before heading back to the van. After dinner, we fall asleep in total silence, feeling completely alone in the world.

Curiosity of the day In Morocco, it is very rare to be able to pay with a credit card, apart from in a few situations. Although most petrol stations (Shell, Afriquia, etc.) accept payment by card, it can often happen when filling up that there is no alternative to cash. Therefore, when we find a petrol station that does accept cards, we almost always fill up.

Day 37 - No sign of life

Labouirat > Tilmezoun

In the morning we get up and set off early, in an attempt to cover a good part of the remaining 150km of track. The track stretches inside a long dried-up river, the Oued Draa, and is therefore only passable in dry conditions. The ruts in the terrain, caused by past rainfall, present a few pitfalls, which our van Otto overcomes with flying colours.

After a few hours of travelling, proceeding very slowly, we stop for a bite to eat. As we are about to set off again, we notice dust creeping out of the edge of the rear passenger bench. As we lift the cushions, we discover another one of the many places through which the dust has started to seep into the van. Under the seat, where our Truma boiler is located, there is a safety vent in case the heater or the boiler (both running on diesel) should malfunction.

We clear the area of dust, cover the hole with a wet rag and set off determinedly down the dirt track, collecting yet more dust. The tail wind and the low cruising speed do not make the situation any easier. In the moments where the rough trail slows us down, we are enveloped by clouds of dust that we’ve just kicked up.

All in all, the day's driving proves to be intense, with over 80km covered at low speeds and a few technical passages, leading to one of the wheels lifting off the ground. From time to time, we stop in the middle of the track, get out of the cabin and take a couple of steps, a few clumsy dances to get moving and release the tension created by all these hours of driving on terrain that is not easy especially with temperatures above 30 degrees.

Around 6.30 p.m. we pass through a section that seems like a good spot to stay the night. We park as we often do under a tree and decide to go for a walk. We feel the need after all these hours sitting at the wheel, but it is also a sort of provocation to see if we can meet someone. Today, in fact, during the whole day, we have not encountered a single living being, apart from a couple of camels. Despite walking for several kilometres, we do not meet anyone and return to the van almost an hour later, after the sun has set.

Evening comes and after dinner we place the phone on the roof to try get some internet to work a bit and update Instagram, but with little result.

We fall asleep under a starry sky, next to a tree, in the middle of the desert in an unnamed location. The weather app on my phone tells us we are near Tilmezoun and we decide to trust it. Although, when we are in the middle of nature with our van surrounded by beautiful landscapes, we don't care what the place is called or who is around us. This is enough for us to feel at home.

Curiosity of the day The Draa is the longest and most important river in Morocco. It is formed by the confluence of the Dadès and Imini rivers. It descends from the peaks of the High Atlas in a south-easterly direction to Tagounit and from there westwards in the direction of the Atlantic Ocean where it flows near Tan-Tan after a distance of about 1100 km. The large section we travelled along was completely dried up.

Day 38 - Coffee with camels

Tilmezoun > Tan-Tan

As soon as I wake up in the morning, Joy tells me that she feels like going for a run. It seems like a good idea and despite the heat, I almost feel like putting my running shoes on again too. To save time and be more efficient, we decide to do a relay: Joy starts running in the direction of Tan-tan along the piste and I follow her in the van. The decision turns out to be a good one, as the track, which is full of rocks and stones, forces the van to proceed at a snail’s pace. It is therefore he who has an engine under his bottom who struggles to keep up with the runner.

After about 40 minutes we swap. Joy finishes running, gets behind the wheel and it's my turn. I too enjoy a run in the desert for almost 40 minutes before Joy joins me with the van. I get back in and a few kilometres further on we stop in the middle of some trees in a dried-up river bed. We eat something and rinse off next to the van with our outdoor shower. After lunch, as we enjoy our coffee outside, we receive an unexpected but memorable visit. A group of five or six camels slowly approach the van to see what this giant box of a similar brown colour to theirs is. With a curious look, they scrutinise us, come within a metre, and after staying nearby to graze on the trees, they continue on their way as if nothing had happened. Truly a magical coffee break which we did not hesitate to immortalise with a few shots.

Recharged, we set off again and after crossing a few fords (some via unstable bridges, others passing through the river bed) we find ourselves travelling the last few kilometres on a stretch that seems like a billiard track. We are travelling at over 50km/h and the low level of difficulty also allows me to enjoy the view.

Once we hit asphalt again the wind has picked up. We pump up our tyres in the middle of a sandstorm and ride the last 45km to Tan-Tan on brand new tarmac that is in excellent condition. Apart from a little sand blown by the wind and a few disoriented camels, we meet almost no one until Tan-Tan. Once we reach the village, we proceed straight north for a few more kilometres before taking another dirt road on the left, which will lead us to Ksar Tafnitil, our spot for the night.

Once we had covered about six kilometres of dirt road and crossed several sand dunes, we arrive at a beautiful Ksar situated on a hill and surrounded by fortified walls, from where there is a wonderful view of the surrounding desert. This place, which we really appreciated for its beauty, attention to detail and peaceful location, was recommended to us by Gemma and Dom (whom we thank again!).

We decide to follow their advice to a T and dine that evening at the Ksar. We accompany the tasty food with a bottle of local wine, available here for 200 DH, and end the day parked next to a Portuguese pickup with a roof tent in the best possible way - falling asleep in total silence.

Curiosity of the day Sipping coffee under the curious gaze of the camels, we noticed a mother feeding her baby. We started laughing about what a barista coffee with camel milk would be called: cammelate? Joking aside, camel milk seems to be very nutritious, being naturally rich in minerals and vitamins, particularly high in vitamin C. We haven't tasted it yet.

Day 39 - All I wanted was a cigarette

Tan-Tan > Cap Draa

A quiet morning, during which we get to know Håkan & Henrietta, the other couple present at the 'campsite'. Two Swedish adventurers, who live in Portugal and are currently crossing Morocco in their pickup. They turn out to be very friendly, and we spend over an hour sharing experiences, talking about life and past adventures. Huddled over a map, we exchange tips on special places in Morocco and around 1pm we set off again in the direction of Tan-Tan. We’ve run out of water and provisions and need to fill up with diesel.

Our first stop is a convenience store where, when paying, we ask the lady at till for directions on where to buy fruit and vegetables. She kindly accompanies us to the 'greengrocer' a few hundred metres down the road. We enter this dark garage full of fresh fruit and vegetables and notice four gentlemen in a corner intent on sharing a tajine. One of them immediately draws my attention, inviting us to join them for lunch. I politely decline the invitation, help Joy choose the fruit and vegetables, which look great, and we return to the street.

After buying everything we need, including freshly baked bread, we hit the road again to tackle the next track. From Tan-Tan we will reach Guelmim via 150km of dirt roads and sand dunes, this time along the coast, much of the way with views of the sea.

The first stretch, as we leave the Tan-Tan prison on our right, runs smoothly on a track made even smoother by the presence of a few centimetres of sand under the tyres. A small lunch break under the baking sun, we enjoy the fresh bread, still warm, and set off again towards a river that we will have to cross.

Once we reach the river, we are confronted by a large STOP sign and the road is blocked by a padlocked barrier. We look around puzzled for a few minutes until in the distance we see a man, probably military, emerge from the bushes and head towards us. After the pleasantries, we write down all our details on a scrap of paper, tell him where we are going, and he very politely lifts the bar by hand just high enough for us to pass.

For a few kilometres we travel at a good speed, through small bushes and a few sand dunes. To the side a group of camels graze peacefully. We gradually climb until, having arrived on a plateau, we can finally catch a glimpse of the sea. It has been almost 40 days since we have seen the sea - the last time was on our arrival in Morocco - and we get a little excited. However, our enthusiasm is quickly dampened by the condition of the track. For more than 20 kilometres, we drive slowly over rocky, uneven terrain, overlooking the sea. The van wobbles, everything imaginable creaks and each kilometre takes forever. At least we enjoy an incredible view.

Suddenly, we pass a small military checkpoint and a man comes running over to meet us. We prepare our papers, but the guy only asks if we have a cigarette. Unfortunately, we cannot satisfy him, but he dismisses us anyway with a smile.

A little further on, as the sun is about to set, we pass several fishermen's huts to our left and another military checkpoint, where we continue without being stopped. The sun, which is ready to hide behind the horizon, reminds us that it is time to stop. As soon as we find a clearing, a little exposed but with an excellent view of the sea, we don't think twice and turn off the engine. We enjoy the last rays as we do some stretching and then take refuge inside the van. The pleasant sound of the waves reminds us that we are no longer in the desert as it lulls us to sleep.

Curiosity of the day Particularly along the coast, but also along the pistes near the borders, we have encountered many military checkpoints. The peculiar thing is that these checkpoints do not always look very official. Sometimes the military are in plain clothes, sometimes they come out of a shack with a donkey outside, they just ask you for a cigarette or they make you fill in your details in pen on a piece of paper. One thing is certain, filling in in advance and carrying several copies of the ‘fiches’, i.e. papers with all your details and those of the vehicle, can make the checks much quicker.

Day 40 - Waiting for low tide

Cap Dra > Plage Blanche

The beauty of sleeping by the sea is not only the sound of waves that lull you to sleep, but also the breathtaking view when you step out of the van in the morning. However, when the alarm goes off at 8 a.m. and I open the door of the van, I don’t the sea in front of me, but only thick fog. I can’t see more than three metres away. We enjoy a leisurely breakfast as the sun comes out and the fog slowly burns away.

Around ten, we set off in the direction of Plage Blanche, a large white beach 30 km long that we will cross by van. The kilometres that lead us to the southern end of the beach seem eternal. The terrain is very uneven, and we proceed for over two hours at no more than 10km/h between one rock and another. Shortly after midday we make out the ruins of an old fort in the distance, which should mark the beginning of the beach. Reaching it is no easy task. The tracks we were following suddenly end, and in front of us we find only large dunes that block our path.

After a patrol on foot and some risky manoeuvres over a couple of dunes, we are reunited with the piste and continue down a steep sandy descent that leads us to the dried-up river bed running to the beach. When we arrive at the beach it is around 2 p.m. and we stop on top of a dune for lunch in a unique setting: in the middle of a sandy expanse with large white dunes that seem to stretch for kilometres. Nothing and no one around us. A stupendous picture, spoilt only by the large amount of rubbish on the beach that has been washed in by the sea. 

Now for the waiting game – before setting off again to cover the 30km of beach, we must wait patiently until the tide retreats and exposes the beach. Low tide is expected at 7pm, so we decide to leave at 6pm.

The stretch we are about to cover is quite tricky. We have a limited window of time to cross the beach and we must try not to get stuck. Getting stuck for too long could mean getting trapped in the sand with a rising tide. The most solid and reliable ground is close to the shore, but getting stuck there would leave very little time before the sea catches you. Moreover, the middle ground between the shore and the dry sand high up on the beach seems to be very soft and even on foot one sinks into it. In short, we must find the right balance and the ideal track. Finally, darkness also falls at 8pm, so there is little room for error and concentration is at a maximum.

The initial part of the crossing causes us a little tension. We cover the first few kilometres on dry sand above the tide line, without daring to approach the sea. At one point, however, we cross a local fisherman riding his moped a few metres from the water, who waves to us with his hands to get closer to the shore, as if to say “What are you doing there? Come here it’s much more fun!"

After a moment of hesitation, we decide to give it a go. As expected, the most difficult stretch is right in the middle, between the dry sand and the more compact beach near the water. We cross the middle ground and despite going for it at speed, the van suddenly sinks and is in serious danger of getting stuck. I put my foot down on the accelerator and my heart beats faster. The van fortunately does not stop completely and continues, with difficulty and skyrocketing engine revs, until it finds firmer ground under the tyres, which allows us to regain speed and peace of mind. Once we reach the shore, driving is a real pleasure. I remain focused, but now we continue smoothly at over 60km/h on terrain that feels as solid as an asphalt road. To my right I admire the imposing white dunes, to my left the waves of a rough sea. In front of us, flocks of seagulls with their feet in the water, which fly away as we approach. I’m in awe at the beauty of nature around us and the emotions this unique moment is provoking in me. I feel alive as never before and grateful to be able to experience these moments. 

After several kilometres, we’ve gained confidence, and luckily also have some time to spare to stop and take a few photos. As soon as we get out of the van, we immediately smell something a bit… fishy and rotten. We look around scanning the sand, until we notice a giant carcass of a dead whale halfway up the beach.

We cover a total of 25 km along the beach until we arrive at a point where a river flows into the sea. There we spot an area suitable to stay the night and park a few steps from the river overlooking the lagoon. As we watch the sun enter the sea, we relive the emotions we have just experienced. After so much adrenalin and tension, we are sure to sleep well.

Curiosity of the day Plage Blanche is the longest beach and one of the wildest in Morocco. Located opposite the Canary Islands, it was named 'Playa Blanca' by the Spanish. It stretches for over 30 kilometres and is entirely covered by white sand dunes. Along the beach you’ll encounter several fishermen's shacks and little else. Unfortunately, we were sad to see so much rubbish, scattered along the entire 30km of beach, that had been washed up by the sea.

Day 41 – The difficult way is much more fun

Plage Blanche > Bouizakarne, Camping Tinnobouga

In the morning, despite the fact that we are only a hundred metres from an asphalt road, one of us (we won't say who) decides we should continue north along the remaining five kilometres of beach, which leads to a very technical steep up- and downhill section before re-joining the asphalt road.

Arriving at the end of the beach, we tackle the technical section with great concentration. Some passages are really challenging but, with focus and patience, we get through them unscathed. It is definitely in my nature to seek adventure and adrenalin. This often leads us to take risks, but through these situations we feel alive, we learn and above all we discover what our vehicle is really capable of.

Back on the tarmac road, the first we have touched in over 48 hours, we reach Guelmim, which we pass without stopping. We are heading about 40km further north, where we have pinpointed a very rustic campsite, but with a friendly and welcoming owner. We take a coffee break halfway there, and as we drive along this last, very busy stretch, we are once again amazed at the local trucks and cars that creatively attempt to load anything and everything onto their roofs. 

We arrive at Camping Tinnougba around 4 p.m., and are greeted by Lahcen, a smiling and extremely kind gentleman. Having found our spot, we are ready to enjoy the tea that, according to the reviews, is offered to campers every day at 5pm in the communal area. A pleasant way to get to know other travellers, we think.

Today, however, perhaps we are unlucky or perhaps it is the shortage of staff, there is no tea. However, the owner is very helpful and attentive to details, making sure in every way that the guests are comfortable.

Before dinner I make the acquaintance of Gino and his wife, a retired Italian couple who have been travelling around the world on motorbikes for the last 12 years. I am fascinated by the stories they tell me about the countries they have visited and once again I realise how many places and cultures there are still to discover around the world. Too many, so many that it is impossible to see them all, but it is imperative to keep exploring.

Evening falls and we cook something in the van and try not to go to bed too late, as tomorrow morning we want to go to Guelmim to experience the Saturday camel market up close.

Curiosity of the day Guelmim is well known for its famous weekly Camel Market, held at day break every Saturday. The Guelmim camel market is the largest in Morocco. Camels are not the only livestock bought and sold at this weekly market. Sheep, goats, and donkeys are also sold, along with other traditional Moroccan items.

Day 42 - Surfing Paradise

Bouizakarne, Camping Tinnobouga > Anchor Point (Tagazhout)

Although we had tried to park sheltered behind a wall, strong gusts of wind keep us awake for most of the night. We therefore postpone our alarm clock several times and only manage to get some rest in the early hours of the morning before we get out of bed around 10 a.m.

By the time we are ready to leave, it is already past 11 a.m. and by asking in Lahcen, we find out that the camel market ends at around 12 p.m. We are therefore very late and it is not really worth travelling the 40km to Guelmim to get there after the market is over.

No big deal, it was more of a whim to witness something traditional and renowned, but we also knew that it would not necessarily be a beautiful spectacle if you care about animal welfare.

So, we set off north towards Taghazout, a small coastal village renown for being the surfing capital of Morocco. On the way, we make an impromptu stop in Sidi Bibi when we notice a large market selling fruit, vegetables, bread and clothes. We park by the roadside, leave a few dirhams with the attendant on duty and enter the chaos of the souk. We wander for more than half an hour under the tents getting lost among the infinite fruit and vegetable stalls, amidst the cackling of the vendors and the smells of the street food. An intense experience, but a very special and interesting one. We leave the hustle and bustle of the market with fresh bread, half a kilo of strawberries, some tangerines, as well as courgettes and tomatoes.

We get going again, and a little further on we stop at the side of the road for a coffee break. In the process, I make the acquaintance of a few locals, including a local muezzin, who proudly shows me his Tiktok videos of proclaiming the daily call to prayer. It is these moments, so peculiar but at the same time intriguing, that make the trip to Morocco eventful and always interesting.

Passing through the town of Agadir, we decide to stop at Carrefour to buy those products that we cannot find in the local convenience stores. We set off again and cover the last few kilometres towards Taghazout, where we arrive by late afternoon. We decide to join Gemma and Dom at Anchor Point, one of the most famous surfing spots, where the world body surfing championships are being held. 

The place is nice, although a little crowded due to the ongoing competition, and overlooks the sea. By paying 20 dirhams to the self-appointed guard on duty, it is also possible to spend the night there. We find a spot among the stones a few metres from the sea and enjoy a beautiful sunset and a quiet night.

Curiosity of the day In Agadir, we noticed some tall artificial palm trees that are supposed to hide and camouflage TV antennas and telephone repeaters. They didn't convince us at all and looked quite ugly.   

Here we are in Taghazout and so our ascent northwards has begun. On the one hand, there is the excitement of having arrived at the ocean, where I will finally be able to surf again after more than two months. On the other, there is the knowledge that we have reached areas that are more touristy, busy and different from the Morocco we have been able to appreciate so far. You know, we are not fans of the masses and places where tourists outnumber the locals. We are therefore a little sceptical about what awaits us in the coming weeks. Will it be a disappointment or a pleasant surprise? We will only find out by living. Stay with us, we'll tell you all about the coast soon!

In the meantime, I'm off to do some surfing! Yeww!