Road Trip from Marrakech to Agadir in 7 days

One week. One car. The adventure begins!

Craving a trip that smells of dust, fresh mint, and salty Atlantic air? This seven-day road journey between Marrakech and Agadir drops you straight into the heart of southern Morocco. It’s wild, it’s warm, sometimes a little chaotic, always welcoming.

Before you start, here’s what you need to know

Renting a car in Morocco is refreshingly easy. You’ll find plenty of rental agencies either at Marrakech airport or in town. Prices are fair, and booking ahead keeps things simple. A small car is usually enough, but if you’re tempted by mountain routes and scenic detours through hidden valleys, a compact SUV might make your life easier.

The roads are in decent shape overall. But be warned, some mountain sections can be tight, winding, and full of surprises. Driving here is not complicated, but it does keep you on your toes. Between wandering donkeys, zigzagging scooters and locals who treat road signs more like suggestions, expect a bit of improvisation.

The best time to go is from March to June, or again between September and November. Summer? Too hot in the interior, you’ve been warned.

As for budget, expect to spend somewhere between 500 and 800 euros for the full week, depending on your taste for comfort. Also, keep cash on hand, many smaller villages still live in a world before contactless payments.

Day 1: Marrakech, the red city

Your journey begins in a city that never really slows down. Marrakech hits you instantly with a mix of ochre walls, buzzing scooters, a scent trail of grilled meat, jasmine, and fresh mint. The streets feel alive, not just with people, but with centuries of stories layered into every tile, every alley, every carved wooden door.

Wander through the Medina. One turn leads to leather babouches, the next to piles of saffron and cumin. Don’t rush. Let the chaos wash over you. It’s disorienting at first, like stepping into a kaleidoscope, but there’s beauty in the confusion.

By late afternoon, head to a rooftop. From above, the city softens. The call to prayer echoes across terracotta rooftops, and the sky shifts to gold. Down below, Jemaa el-Fna starts to fill. Drummers, storytellers, orange juice sellers, and snakes (yes, real ones). It’s not staged. It’s just Marrakech being Marrakech: intense, unapologetic, unforgettable.

Day 2: Marrakech to Aït Ben Haddou

Time to move. Leaving the city, the road coils into the High Atlas Mountains. With every curve, Marrakech fades and altitude rises. The air thins, the colours change. Villages cling to cliffsides, goats balance on rocks like tightrope walkers, and the views? They just keep getting better.

Eventually, you reach the Tizi n’Tichka Pass, a dramatic gateway between worlds. At over 2,200 metres, it’s the kind of place where the wind whistles through gaps in the rocks and the horizon opens wide in every direction. Take a moment here. You’re crossing from one Morocco into another.

Hours later, just when you think the road might never end, it does. And there it is: Aït Ben Haddou. Silent. Sun-drenched. Surreal. A clay fortress that rises from the desert like a mirage, somehow untouched by time or trend. It’s been here for centuries, and it looks like it might stay for centuries more.

Wander through its narrow lanes, climb to the top, and look out over the barren plains. You’re not just visiting a place, you’re stepping into a scene. Game of Thrones, Gladiator, Lawrence of Arabia. All shot here! But none of it compares to seeing it with your own eyes. Especially as the sun sets and the walls glow amber. It’s cinematic. It’s still. It’s magic.

Seven days. One country. Dozens of moods. Morocco is a mosaic: bold, subtle, chaotic, peaceful, etc. and somehow it all makes sense. Sure, it’s not always easy, but travel isn’t meant to be. And in the end, you won’t just have memories, you’ll have stories. The kind that stay with you longer than a perfect photo ever could.

Day 3: Aït Ben Haddou to Dades Gorges

Today, the road is the destination. Leave the desert behind and head into a land that feels sculpted by hand. Canyons open up. Plateaus stretch wide. The route to Dades is a slow reveal of Morocco’s geological drama.

Not far from here lies the Valley of Roses, where the air carries the faint scent of blossoms in spring, and thousands of pink petals are gathered by hand each year. Even when it’s not in bloom, there’s something delicate in the way the valley opens: a soft contrast to the bold cliffs ahead.

It’s quiet out here. The kind of quiet where you hear your own thoughts a little more clearly. Stop when the view demands it, and it will, often. Take it in. Photograph it if you must. But some things are best stored in memory.

Then come the Gorges. Out of nowhere, the earth splits open. Red cliffs tower above, twisting and curling like waves of stone. The road hugs them tightly, as if reluctant to let go. It’s bold, raw, and beautiful. The kind of scenery that doesn’t ask for attention, it simply commands it.

Day 4: Dades to Drâa Valley to Zagora

This is the kind of day that reminds you how vast Morocco really is. You’ll leave the rugged charm of the Dades region and begin to descend toward the Drâa Valley. The scenery changes slowly, but dramatically. Rocky cliffs soften into palm groves. The landscape becomes greener, more fertile. Villages made of sun-dried mud appear like mirages, blending perfectly into their surroundings.

The Drâa Valley stretches endlessly, with thousands of date palms lining the road. It feels untouched, peaceful, and rooted in tradition. Here, time slows down. A few locals might wave as you pass, children play barefoot near the river, and the only sound for miles might be the rustling of palms in the breeze.

Zagora marks the threshold of the Sahara. It’s not a place that tries to impress. But there’s a stillness to it, a kind of quiet dignity that stays with you. At night, the stars come out in full force. They don’t twinkle, they blaze like lanterns hung above the desert. Rest deeply. The coast awaits tomorrow.

Day 5: Zagora to Taroudant

You’ll notice the landscape shifting again, not suddenly but gently, as the desert slowly fades behind you. The dry wind softens, the colours turn greener, and olive trees begin to replace the stubborn desert shrubs. The terrain feels more cultivated, calmer, more lived-in, and with every kilometre, the signs of settled life start to reappear.

Taroudant emerges wrapped in ochre walls glowing under the afternoon sun. Often described as a quieter version of Marrakech, it offers something distinct. The medina is compact and easy to explore, and instead of the noise and constant movement of larger cities, there’s a relaxed rhythm to daily life here.

Locals move at their own pace. You’ll pass shaded cafés, hear voices echo through narrow lanes, and watch carts roll steadily over cobblestones. There’s no pressure to rush, no long list of things you must see. Just wander, pause when you feel like it, and let the city reveal itself slowly, on its own terms.

Day 6: Taroudant to Agadir

The road leads west now, rolling gently toward the Atlantic. With every kilometre, the air grows saltier and the sky seems to stretch wider. You’ll know when you’re getting close the wind picks up, the heat eases, and the sea begins to make itself known before it appears.

Agadir is modern. Rebuilt after the 1960 earthquake, it doesn’t have the ancient feel of other cities, but it makes up for it with openness and energy. This is a place to rest, recharge, and breathe. Wide beaches stretch along the coast. Cafés overlook the water. People are in no hurry, the pace is slower, intentionally so.

Take the evening to walk by the sea. Watch the sun sink behind the waves. Let your journey settle in your mind as the tide comes in.

Day 7: Agadir or Excursion to Taghazout

This last day is yours to shape. If you feel like staying in Agadir, you won’t be short on options. Stretch out on the beach, sip something cold on a café terrace, or stroll along the promenade with the Atlantic breeze brushing past. It’s the kind of place that makes doing nothing feel like a proper plan.

But if you’re still craving movement, head north to Taghazout. Once a quiet fishing village, now a mellow surf town with sandy lanes, colourful rooftops, and a rhythm all its own. It’s casual, creative, just a little bohemian. Surfers come for the waves, but others stay for the mood. You don’t need to ride a board to enjoy it. Just sit by the water, order grilled fish, and let the minutes stretch.

Whether you stay put or chase one last adventure, this is the day to unwind, reflect, and let the journey fade gently.

And if you still have time...

Seven days. A few thousand curves in the road. Desert, mountain, coast. This route isn’t about rushing. It’s about feeling the shift in light, in landscapes, in the way people move and speak. From the spice-scented chaos of Marrakech to the golden stillness of Zagora, from quiet valleys to rolling surf, you’ve crossed a Morocco that few really take the time to see.

And if you’ve still got time, don’t stop here. Head up the coast to Essaouira. Breezy, whitewashed, with seagulls wheeling above and a salty calm that lingers on the skin. It’s the perfect final note, a slower rhythm to ease back into the everyday.

Because sometimes, the best kind of travel doesn’t follow a strict plan. It simply follows the road and lets Morocco do the rest