Day two in Morocco
A trip to Agadir was the order of the day, more to prove a theory as much to relax and make the most of the down time.
The morning saw a gentle start with a healthy frugal breakfast of fruit yoghurt and bread eaten on the roof terrace with all of the guests, a real mix from Germany, Netherlands, USA, France, Argentina and Spain. It seems that crossing the Med to Africasees a much more cosmopolitan and eclectic mix of travellers.
On the way to the sole bus station on the coast road between Tamraght and Agadir Will pick up a stray dog whom we named Phyllis and stuck with us for an hour until we jumped on the number to Agadir.
The journey was quick and uneventful but interesting to se in daylight the terrain we had traversed the previous evening.
We were dropped of in a car park in central Agadir deciding to follow the trail of tourist breadcrumbs to the red brick esplanade throngs with cheap hotels and street traders. The clientele were thin on the ground so we were a constant target. We eventually ended up in a nameless restaurant and ordered basic fare of cheeseburger and a turkey sandwich, simple. Two hours later the food turns up, rant suppressed due to blood pressure.
From there we decided that we would check out the English Pub and then go back. True to form the bar was stereotypically full of fat sweaty sex pests enjoying their steak and kidney pie or sausage egg and chips. My theory was proved! I'm not sure if I felt mor smug, vindicated in my ranting or disappointed. The fact that the two halfs of lager cost over ten quid iced the boing cake. Why on earth do we as a nation do this? A hang over to imperialistic dogma perhaps? So, no more words, Agadir is an embryonic Benidorm.
Day done, a sweaty and packed bus journey later and we were back at the hostel for a nap. A lovely meal out at Adams restaurant and we now find ourselves having a post Ramadan beer on the roof terrace. Marrakech tomorrow.