Sunshine, omelettes and amlou. What is not to love? Morocco has a superb reputation for bicycle touring. Big landscapes, friendly people and epic mountain passes. At least, that’s the story being told by bikepackers and those participating in the Atlas Mountain Race. I was curious to see, what’s Morocco really like to explore by bike, and what if one were to take it at a more steady pace?

After a fairly disappointing Scottish winter I was ready for summer, the idea being to teleport myself to somewhere the complete opposite. Africa! My plan was to link up some of the Atlas Mountain Race route, Route of Caravans, and some extra adventures in between. Going from 7 degrees and rain in Scotland to arriving in Marrakech to 37 degree heat and sunshine, quite a stark contrast. So that was a bit of a mind boggler for the old body.

A route in between

There isn’t a better way to describe this route than a pathway in-between. Travelling between Marakech and Agadir, it’s a Sahara sandwich with a yummy Atlas filling. And the adventure really lies in the filling. Wriggling out of Marrakech you’re quickly presented with your first geographical challenge, the Atlas Mountains. Rising out of the desert it seems impossible you’ll find routes over and through their crumbling tops, but they’re there. The beginning of the trip followed the Atlas Mountain Race route, an excellently planned race that factors in resupply, testing mountain biking and big vistas. I was in for a treat!

Travelling into little villages in the Atlas and engaging with locals you really get a sense of their priorities and livelihoods. The intensely rapid urbanisation and modernisation of Morocco is felt greatly in the Atlas. New tarmac roads to create more efficient travel by vehicle, electricity and internet provision to rural communities. Morocco is changing and that is immediately apparent on a bicycle. The

The Anti-Atlas pistes

Although not as well documented or facilitated by tourism, the Anti-Atlas was teething with personality. This is where the old caravan routes come into their own, and colonial pistes between villages offer the best riding in Morocco. The section between Ibn Yacoub and Issafen is 100km of blissful gravel riding of the highest caliber.

Snaking around and up the mountain side, it’s a 700 meters climb of excitement. The French built it back in the time of colonial rule. Now the track has seen better days, you’ll be expected to push your bike up unreasonably steep sections and where parts of the road have given way, tumbled down into the gullies. It’s an exposed route but one that is impossibly epic, the photos just cannot do this piste justice.

Oranges and plums, ripen in the sun.

The deeper I entered the Anti Atlas the food just seemed to get better and better, or perhaps it was the immense hunger building up inside. Well, either way, the Moroccan cuisine really hit the spot. If you’re a fan of a tomato omelette for breakfast, breads, spreads and oranges on repeat throughout the day and a tagine for dinner, the Anti-Atlas is the place for you. Oh, and did I mention amlou yet, because well, the combination of almonds, argon oil and honey will make any difficult day suddenly become manageable. Between Ouarzazate and Tafraoute there are lots of excellent cafes tucked away on street corners, some that you’ll find with reviews on Google Maps, and some that will likely have never seen bikepackers before.

I found that my cycling style soon matched the pace of those around me. Stopping for a long tea break at midday with locals was a necessity, finding every opportunity to cool off, take in some liquids and sugar, and then head off down the road again.

The sights, sounds, and smells

Tell Morocco you are ready and it replies. It’s easy to focus on the grand, sweeping landscapes of Morocco, but the real beauty often lies in these smaller, quieter moments. Witnessing the peace and simplicity of life in these remote communities was incredibly humbling. The kindness of the people I met along the way, living simple lives, was a real eye-opener. Dirt tracks leading up to villages, people getting around on foot or by donkey, they don’t need anything more.

As the trip progressed time seemed to warp, hours passed unnoticed as I soaked in the sights, sounds, and smells of this incredible country. From the history etched into the caravan routes to the hidden oases teeming with life, my journey through the Anti-Atlas was a fleeting insight, but one that will stay with me forever.

Everything is Sandy

For some, dealing with desert conditions is something that comes naturally, but coming from the UK, it’s well, a challenge. It took me a few days to acclimatise and get used to the heat. I’d encourage you, especially if you’re from Northern Europe, to take the time to adapt to the desert slowly and ease into the sandy life. Because well, you have to embrace it. There will inevitably be sand everywhere. Sand in your tent, sand in your chamois, sand in your eyes, sometimes in your food too. Your precious kit will become impregnated with Sahara dust, so lube that chain, use chunky zippered bags and you’ll be grand. That golden tan on your legs, take a wash, that’s not a tan.

Carry more water than you think you need. From April onwards it’s very unlikely you’ll find running water in the mountains, so expect water carries of at least 10 litres at times, unless you’re prepared to cycle through the night when it’s cooler. During Ramadan many supermarkets and cafes that you may otherwise be able to purchase water bottles from will likely be closed, so plan accordingly and ask around.

Don’t plan the details, because you can’t. It’s an adventure.

Hopefully you’ve read this trip report and thought great, my next bikepacking destination is going to be Morocco. But how do you go about planning your route? Outside of the Route of Caravans and the Atlas Mountain Race routes, there isn’t actually that much information to be found online on towns, resupply, road conditions. This is the fun of Morocco. There will be little towns and villages not documented on maps, little street markets and souks operating out of people’s homes. You can’t plan for that, but be sure to open your arms to the possibility that a piece of Moroccan magic will be just round the next corner.