Leaving Agadir behind, I continued south through a completely different side of Morocco. The green valleys and busy coastal towns gradually disappeared, replaced by vast, empty landscapes, rocky plains and long stretches of road cutting through terrain that looked almost extraterrestrial.

Leaving Essaouira behind, I continued south toward Agadir along Morocco’s Atlantic coast. What could have been a straightforward ride between two cities quickly became one of the most scenic stretches of the journey.

Riding into Essaouira, I expected Atlantic views, strong coastal winds and the distinctive atmosphere of one of Morocco’s best-known seaside towns.

What I found was a place that felt completely different from the noise and intensity of Marrakesh.

Leaving the intensity of Marrakesh behind, I finally pointed the Africa Twin toward the Atlas Mountains. Almost immediately, the noise and congestion of the city gave way to open roads, cooler air and some of the most dramatic scenery I had encountered in Morocco.

I rode into one of Morocco’s most famous waterfalls expecting a nice view — instead I got a full-on sensory overload. The roar of the water, the cliffs, the mist hitting your face, the monkeys watching you like you’re the attraction… it’s raw, loud, and absolutely unreal.

The ride to Marrakesh was relatively calm, but that changed the moment I entered the Red City. Traffic here is not simply traffic—it is a full-blown survival test.

The ride into Casablanca felt different from the Morocco I had experienced so far. Instead of mountain roads, old medinas and quiet coastal towns, I found myself entering a huge, modern city filled with traffic, noise and constant movement.

Every journey begins with a dream…, and this is mine.

Dust, Dreams, and Freedom — the beginning of a story written on the open roads of Africa.

A journey into the wild, into solitude, and into myself. No plans. No promises. Just the road, the wind, and the call of the unknown.

Leaving Meknes behind, I rode towards Volubilis, one of Morocco’s most remarkable ancient sites. The busy streets gradually gave way to quieter roads, open countryside and rolling hills—a welcome change after spending time inside the city.

Riding into Fes meant entering another busy Moroccan city, with crowded roads, unpredictable traffic and scooters squeezing through every available gap. But once I left the motorcycle behind and stepped inside the old medina, the modern world seemed to disappear.