Tigmi el Janoub
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- Free High-Speed Internet
- Wheelchair accessibility
- Free parking
- Pets allowed
- Continental Breakfast
- Room service
TripAdvisor Reviews Tigmi el Janoub Ouarzazate
Travel Blogs from Ouarzazate
... her. I'm not sure she thinks he's quite so cute any more.
We drive on. The road is steeper and windier than ever, and is now a continuous series of hairpin bends. Abdul's driving hasn't improved. We reach the Tizin Tichka Pass. The sign says we are at 2,260 metres. I'm pretty sure that this is higher than Mount Kosciusko, and there are even higher peaks all around us.
We drive on down the other side to the town of Ouarzazate. Abdul says that our ...
... suits, to ceremonial guards in red uniforms, white puttees and blue and white hats. We went to a ceramic works, where we witnessed the painstaking work of artisans and young apprentices hand chipping the tiny tiles for mosaic tables and fountains, and hand-painting bowls, plates and tagines. Now we know the real value of the Moroccan ceramic tables we have in Woodend. We had no idea about the amount of work put into these beautiful objects. ...
... was used as a secret desert detention centre by King Hassan II (1961 - 1999) to suppress political dissidents. It is apparently listed by the current government to be converted into a national memorial.
The mountainous countryside from Agdz to Ouarzazate over the Middle Atlas was nothing less than sensational. Morocco really does have world class knock your socks off scenery. On our winding high road, the surrounding mountains exuded ...
... TV shows, Game of Thrones. <b>THE JOURNEY IS HALF THE ADVENTURE:</b> The above saying may be well known and also sometimes overused but it is often true. Having arrived at the bus station an hour early for our bus (quite a typical occurrence for us) our bus was 45 minutes late arriving along with its slightly grumpy bus driver. As our driver tried to make his quick getaway he found the entrance/exit to the bus station blocked by numerous buses. We made our ...
... I sensed your presence, weetabiks. With half-frozen fingers I tried to knead life back into you, but you laid comatose amid the dense verbiage, and I know that I cannot count on assistance from illiterate proof-readers. Enter and delete, enter and delete, as seemingly endless as the 173-kilometre snowshoe trek to the trapping cabin. I lean back, close my eyes, and rub each wrist simultaneously with the fingers of the opposite hand. There is no ...