I slept well that night. I packed my things, checked out once more with the slow old man at the reception, and headed toward the bus station. By then it was already around noon again.
The bus journey to Marrakech was supposed to take about five to six hours. The distance was only around 200 kilometers, but the slow bus and the serpentines over the Atlas made the trip quite long. Still, this route was much better than the southern one I had taken earlier via Taroudant.
The journey ran partly directly along mountain ridges. After crossing a pass, you could see far to the west, out over the plain toward Marrakech. On the outskirts of Marrakech there was a kind of tent camp, though it gave a rather precarious impression.
After arriving at the bus station, I thought about where to spend the night this time. I decided to ask about prices at the Tazi, as it is very centrally located. The night was supposed to cost about 200 dirhams. I looked at the room beforehand and it made a good impression: air conditioning, a large clean bed, and a bathtub with hot water.
Once in the room, however, I noticed that the air conditioning didn’t really work—at least the heating function didn’t. I took a long, thoroughly hot bath, then went for another walk through the medina, and finally called it a day.