My room had a balcony on which I had made plenty of cups of tea throuout my stay. On the 4th floor I could sit watching them play tennis at Agadir tennis club whist making tea. It was most civilised.

Checking out and heading back the way I came I found riding a lot easier today. I was getting used to the position of the handlebars and had packed my bag a little better, yesterday it had been sliding forward on the seat and invading my personal space, putting me in a bad mood.

My first stop was going to be the out of town retail park I had passed on the way in. A few things were missing from my shopping list and it would be interesting to see what the African Hypermarket looked like.

I pulled onto the large car park of the all too familiar retail park which must of been a most alien spectacle to your average Marrocan. I had past a McDonalds at the entrance to the park, but apart from that the rest of the retail giant stores were unknown to me, so I did not know what to expect. There were a lot of trolley attendants on the car park, but I think that I had arrived just after opening time, so apart from a bit of tomfoolery, they were not too busy. Good, they can be unpaid (by me at least) bike guardians.

I didn't opt for a trolley, which I later regretted, but found one of those pull a long baskets. When I eventually worked out it's mode de employe, I found one of the wheels was not revolving making it veer all over the place. All in all, it was just what you'd expect. A few diffrent fruit and vegtables and no booze isle, but it could of been Tesco.

I was struggling to find dried milk, so seeing a group of 3 employees I asked one and he immediatly ran off. As did the other one. The young girl that was left, had to suffer quite a bit of bad sign language/franlaise/pointing before she got what I meant, but mission was successful.

Back on the road, the sun slowly came out as I moved further from the coast. The traffic lightened as did my mood. I think the hussle and bussle of that part of the country didn't agree with me.

I was soon in Taroudant and was immediately impressed by the city walls. People were wonderfully friendly, offering to take pictures for me or just saying bonjour. I decided to find a campsite, which I came across a few kms out of town and after putting up the tent, returned back to the walled city.

I dived into the medina and was quickly lost. I was told there was a Sunday market on and it was heaving. In the centre of town some musicians were plauing and telling stories. There was about 200 people surrounding them being entertained. I tried to take a discreet photi but one of the musicians spotted me and came over, reliving me of 10 dirhams. Everyone laughed and I put my camera away!

After that I took my pictures from a long way away! I sat at a cafe, photographing some of the road going spectacles whilst drinking a freshly squeezed orange juice at a cafe. It was very civilised.

Back at the campsite it soon became apparent that a bout of Montazumo's revenge was about to erupt, so I made haste to the toilets smartly taking with me the toilet roll. It was more musical than anything, but any loss of tp would need to ve carefully weighed up.

I chatted for a while with some Dutch campervanists as I made my tea. Such great traveller the Dutch, you will always find one on just about any campsite in the world.