Imlil to Essaouira

Who could but look forward to driving the Tizi n'Test road, described by the Lonely Planet as “one of the most spectacular and perilous passes in the country”? It lived up to expectations in both respects. The views were jaw-dropping and often stomach-dropping, the road often hair-raising and generally body-part affecting. This route took us once more over the high atlas to Taroudannt.

In Taroudannt we spent an afternoon exploring the numerous souks, where traders were friendly and easy-going. There were numerous shoe-shops selling camel-leather sandals, sometimes decorated with bits of carpet or generous helpings of goat. We sampled and bargained for soaps, solid perfumes, deoderant rocks and hammam mitts, chatting and joking with these good-natured vendors who were generous with their informative banter. A slightly odd man waved huge ladlefulls of spices under my nose while my companions bargained over jewellery next door. One young man tried to persuade us into his stall for a look with the promise that a look was free. He kept repeating “it's free!” so I pointed to the old bike leaning outside and asked if it was free too – he caming running after me with it shouting yes, it's free, free bike for you, amid much laughter. In the evening we sat on the hotel's roof terrace eating a feast of market fruit and bread. As the stars came out I looked up and saw the perfect half moon directly overhead, surrounded by an enormous ring of a halo that hovered a third of the way between the moon and the horizon. We lay on our backs and enjoyed.

On our way out of Taroudannt in the morning we stopped at a tannery, where we wandered among the tubs where the leather is treated as a guide explained the process. We were given sprigs of fresh thyme to sniff on to protect us from the all too pungent smells, which apparently are mostly due to the ammonia in the 'pijine peu' used for one stage of the tanning.

From here we drove to Agadir, stopping twice on the way to watch the most amazing spectacle – tree-climbing goats. It makes sense, there being so little grazing on this stark, parched soil, that goats would want to nibble the occasional leaf of an argane tree. But there is something pretty amazing about seeing half a dozen goats bouncing around in the furthermost twigs of a small tree. And let's face it, something inescapably funny. They were lovely, incredible, and had to be seen to be believed.

Agadir is a very mediterranean feeling beach resort with a long strip of cafes facing the beach. We spent a somewhat inexplicable three hours here, time that it was a struggle to fill even with lunch, a walk, a paddle, ice-cream and a browse in a post-card shop. The Atlantic was cool and calm and alluring, but our swimmers were out of reach. Especially mine, as they're in Scotland.

Past more goats, the coast road took us to Essaouira.