Transportation in Morocco: 7 Amazing Ways I Navigate This Country
Okay, So I Went to Morocco and Had No Clue What I Was Doing
Three years ago, I landed in Casablanca thinking I was all prepared with my backpack and a vague plan to “see Morocco.” Spoiler alert: I wasn’t prepared at all. What happened next was six weeks of the most incredible, sometimes hilarious, occasionally terrifying adventures of my life. And honestly? Transportation in Morocco was like playing travel roulette every single day.
Picture this: my very first taxi ride from the airport involved me and the driver having an entire conversation through dramatic hand gestures because neither of us spoke the other’s language. I’m pretty sure he thought I was having some kind of breakdown when I kept pointing at the meter and saying “please” in increasingly desperate tones.
But here’s the thing – figuring out Morocco transportation wasn’t just about getting from A to B. It was like getting a crash course in Moroccan culture, patience, and the art of not taking yourself too seriously. Every bus ride, taxi negotiation, and train delay taught me something new about the country and, let’s be honest, about myself.
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Public Transport In Morocco : Where I Learned to Go with the Flow
I’ll be real with you – Moroccan public transport and I had a love-hate relationship at first. But by the end? I was totally smitten. Sure, you need patience and a good sense of humor, but it’s cheap, it works, and you’ll meet the most amazing people.
Trains: My Happy Place on Wheels
After spending a week getting lost in Marrakech’s medina (seriously, Google Maps is useless there), stepping onto my first train felt like entering a magical air-conditioned paradise. I’m talking actual seats! Schedules! People not trying to sell me carpets every five minutes!
My first Oncf train ride from Casablanca to Marrakech was when I realized I’d fallen in love with Moroccan rail travel. I splurged on first class – and by splurged, I mean I paid like $15, which is less than I spend on lunch back home. The best part? This super nice Moroccan businessman spent the entire three-hour journey teaching me Arabic numbers. Game changer for every taxi ride after that.
But here’s where I learned about “Morocco time.” The 11:15 train? Yeah, that left at 12:20. The conductor’s announcement basically amounted to “we’ll leave when we leave, inshallah.” Once I stopped checking my watch every five minutes, train travel became way more chill.
The coolest train experience was definitely the high-speed Al-Boraq from Tangier to Casablanca. I felt like I was in Japan or something – this sleek, modern train zipping through Moroccan countryside at crazy speeds. Two hours instead of six by bus? Yes, please! Though my wallet wasn’t thrilled about the upgrade.
Real talk: Book first class tickets ahead of time, especially during holidays. I once spent four hours standing in a packed car because I thought I could just wing it. My feet still haven’t forgiven me.
Buses: The Real Morocco Experience
If trains were my gentle introduction to Morocco, buses were like jumping into the deep end. My first CTM bus from Marrakech to Essaouira was amazing – modern, AC, a driver who actually stopped at red lights. I was like, “This is easy!”
Then I took a local bus back from some tiny Atlas Mountain village.
Oh. My. God. Picture a bus from the ’80s held together with duct tape and prayers, no AC in 100-degree heat, and actual chickens on the roof. The driver treated those mountain curves like he was in Fast and Furious. But you know what? It was also where I had my first real conversation with locals, learned to eat sunflower seeds properly, and discovered that mint tea shared with strangers hits different.
The overnight bus to Merzouga for my desert trip was an adventure. I made the rookie mistake of sitting on the sunny side and basically turned into human jerky by sunrise. This sweet Moroccan grandma next to me took pity on me and shared her homemade bread for breakfast. Still one of the best meals I had there.
My bus survival kit: Motion sickness pills (trust me on this), a good neck pillow, tons of water, and small bills for bathroom breaks. You’ll thank me later.
Morocco Taxis: the Wild West
Oh man, Morocco taxis. They’re everywhere, they’re cheap, and they’re… well, let’s just say every ride is an adventure. I went from being completely terrified to actually enjoying the chaos.
My first petit taxi in Marrakech was a disaster. The driver said his meter was “broken” (spoiler: it wasn’t), I panicked and just agreed to whatever he said, and ended up paying about five times too much for a ten-minute ride. But by week three? I could spot a working meter from across the street and negotiate like a pro.
The petit taxi drivers became my unofficial tour guides. There’s this guy Mohamed in Fès (I swear, half the taxi drivers are named Mohamed) who gave me a running commentary on everything we passed while driving like he was auditioning for a stunt driving job. And Hassan in Chefchaouen spent twenty minutes explaining the best photo spots while basically driving straight up a mountain.
Grand taxis are where I learned that personal space is a very Western concept. Six adults plus luggage in an old Mercedes shouldn’t be physically possible, but Moroccans have mastered the art. My ride from Marrakech to Ouarzazate lasted four hours and included random stops for oranges, an impromptu tea break, and a heated discussion about soccer. Standard Tuesday in Morocco.
The most ridiculous grand taxi experience was trying to get to M’Hamid for a desert tour. We were supposed to be six people, but somehow ended up with eight humans, two chickens, boxes of dates, and what looked like someone’s entire wardrobe. The 90-minute trip took three hours, but I learned more about Berber culture than any guidebook could teach.
Taxi survival tips: Always have small bills, learn “Shhal?” (how much?), never accept a “broken” meter without a fight, and sometimes just enjoy the ride – literally.
Flying: When Money Doesn't Matter
I only flew once domestically – Casablanca to Dakhla for some kitesurfing. The flight was nice, professional, and saved me about twelve hours of travel time. The downside? It cost more than my entire week’s accommodation. Royal Air Maroc‘s domestic prices are insane, but sometimes you just gotta bite the bullet.
The flight did give me some perspective though. Looking down at all that desert and those tiny oases, I finally understood why Morocco feels like several different countries mashed together. It’s huge!
Flying tip: Confirm your flight 72 hours ahead (they will cancel on you), get there early, and maybe save it for really long distances where time is worth more than money.
Going Private: When I Needed Some Space
After three weeks of sharing everything with everyone, I was ready for some independence. Time to see what private transport was all about.
Renting a car in Morocco is like getting thrown into the deep end of defensive driving. I picked up this little Dacia from Hertz in Agadir, spent ten minutes making sure it had a spare tire (learned that from a blog – thank God), and hit the road to Essaouira.
Moroccan driving is… intense. Stop signs are suggestions. Lanes are more like guidelines. Roundabouts are basically hunger games for cars. I spent the first hour gripping the steering wheel like my life depended on it (which it probably did).
But once I got used to the organized chaos, having a car was amazing. I could stop at random argan oil places, explore tiny coastal villages, and pull over for sunset photos without worrying about missing the last bus. The drive through the Atlas Mountains was terrifying and spectacular at the same time – narrow roads, no guardrails, enough hairpin turns to make me dizzy, but views that made it all worth it.
Car rental reality check: Budget for parking fees (medinas are car-free), gas prices, and maybe some therapy for dealing with Moroccan traffic. Also, get the full insurance. Trust me.
Hiring a Driver: Best Decision Ever
For my last week, I splurged on a driver. Best money I spent in Morocco, hands down.
Ahmed picked me up in this spotless Land Cruiser, spoke perfect English, and knew every back road, hidden spot, and family restaurant between Ouarzazate and Marrakech. What could’ve been a stressful six-hour drive became the chillest cultural exchange ever.
He showed me Aït Benhaddou at sunset when all the tour groups had left. Took me to his cousin’s carpet place (no pressure, just amazing tea and genuine hospitality). Knew exactly which mountain roads had the best views and which rest stops had decent bathrooms.
Cost about three times what I’d pay for public transport, but half what I expected. More importantly, Ahmed became my cultural translator, explaining everything from the call to prayer to why people wear heavy robes in the desert.
Driver tip: Book through legit companies with good reviews. A good driver becomes your guide, your protector, and often your friend. Worth every penny
The Stuff I Wish Someone Had Told Me
Language Lessons
My Arabic was nonexistent, my French was rusty, and I thought English would be enough. Wrong! But transportation became my classroom. Taxi drivers taught me numbers, bus passengers helped with directions, and by the end, I could handle basic conversations in Arabic and my French was way better.
Words you’ll actually use: “Shhal?” (how much?), “Wash l’Compteur khdam?” (is the meter working?), “Fin gare routière?” (where’s the bus station?), and “Shukran” (thank you). Learn these, thank me later.
Money Talk
Cash is king in Morocco. I learned this the hard way when I tried to pay for a grand taxi with my credit card in the middle of nowhere. The driver looked at me like I’d lost my mind.
Always carry small bills for taxis, bathroom attendants (yeah, that’s everywhere), and random snacks. ATMs are everywhere in cities but good luck finding one in the desert.
Staying Connected
That free SIM card at the airport? Lifesaver. Moroccan data is crazy cheap and works great. I used my phone for maps, translation, entertainment – everything. Plus it works as a hotspot, which made me popular with other travelers.
Pro tip: Download offline maps and translation apps. Cell service gets sketchy in the mountains and desert, and you don’t want to be lost with a dead phone.
Safety Stuff
Morocco felt super safe the whole time, but I learned to trust my gut and take basic precautions. Money belt for valuables, no flashy electronics on crowded buses, and I avoided traveling alone late at night when possible.
The biggest safety thing was actually road safety. Moroccan drivers are skilled but crazy aggressive. I always wore seatbelts when they existed (not always guaranteed in old grand taxis) and stuck with reputable companies.
Wrapping It Up: Just Go With It!
Look, transportation in Morocco isn’t always smooth sailing, but that’s part of what makes it amazing. You’ve got options for every budget and comfort level, from luxury drivers to adventure-packed local buses.
My advice? Plan the basics but stay flexible. That “broken” taxi meter might lead to an interesting negotiation, that delayed bus might mean chatting with cool locals, and that wrong turn might show you the most beautiful sunset of your life.
Morocco’s not just about getting from A to B – it’s about everything that happens in between. Pack your patience, bring your sense of humor, and get ready for some seriously good stories. Because whether you’re squished in a grand taxi with five strangers or cruising in an air-conditioned train, you’re in for one heck of an adventure.
And hey, when people ask how you got around Morocco, you’ll have way better stories than “I took the subway.” Trust me on that one!
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