From the balcony of the apartment, looking south towards Agadir's coast line. 
This place was a huge haven for surfers and retired Europeans in something
I'd never seen in Europe before: mobile homes.  Happily, at Taghazout, there were only the surfers.

Notice the monochromatic nature of any given Moroccan berg; this one was salmon colored..

Other side of the road.  Notice the bare cinder-block construction.  You see this everywhere, even in the barest countryside: if someone is building a house, they lay a foundation and start stacking up cinderblock with some minimal rebar vertebrae.  When it's done, they paint it whatever the color of town is.

This is what you get for roadside signage pretty much everywhere-- unless you're approaching a really large town.  Otherwise it's these: "Agadir, 18 kilometers".  Somehow that struck me as quaint, probably because it evokes the "It's a long way to Tiperary" Peanuts cartoons of my youth.


The hillside across the road was full of these Argan trees.  Taghazout is literally the only place in the world they're found; it's not uncommon to find goats gamboling amidst them, nibbling at them.  They are used to make a certain kind of very rare and delicious oil, said to be better than olive oil.


Shacks, disarray, trash, construction and (barely visible here) satellite dishes: urban Morocco.

This is the major economy in Taghazout (aside from restaurants and surfboard rentals): little grocery stores.  This is actually considered a grocery store pretty much anywhere in Morocco.  What my photo here doesn't capture is the fact that you can't really enter: immediately inside that door is the store counter; behind is most of the merchandise which you point and ask for.  If you find something that you can actually enter into to browse among the merchandise, the natives call that a "supermarket", without apparent irony.  I love that the sporting goods is found immediately above the produce section.  Also note the quite literal monopoly of Coke.


This was the main plaza of the village.  I was lucky enough to catch a mini-Souk (weekly market), hence the large carpets and the preponderance of adults.  Otherwise, there would be little kids playing soccer here. 

The Souk on the plaza seen from the other direction.  Note the little kids hanging out in the foreground.  I assure you they're there on their own, without parents.  That's just a given in Morocco; kids go where they want.  The ubiquitous mosque is in the background.


Submission for a postcard contest...