Tazzarine is a small town on the edge of the Drâa valley, unloved by guidebooks that find nothing beautiful or remarkable about it. Some even go so far as to say that it is “rather ugly” (“Le guide du Routard”).
But in fact, they don’t know Tazzarine (or Tazarine, as the Moroccans write it).
The tarmac road, which only dates back some fifteen years, did not pass through the heart of the village, but outside it when it was built.
As a result, like a small mushroom town in the days of the conquest of the American West, a long, modern, concrete shopping street has sprung up, sparsely embellished by a few kasbahs belonging to the formerly outlying douars.
Yes, this long street is ugly.
But the heart of the real Tazzarine, the one you can visit by turning left at the entrance to the village and wending your way through the tortuous streets of the palm grove, is full of hidden wonders.
Take, for example, the marabout of Sidi Ben Haki, revealed between the palms in the setting sun.
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