Having a rabies vaccine in Morocco

I slept better than the previous evening, but still woke frequently. Including to the sound of the early morning mosque call to prayer.

As soon as I was properly awake, cat #2 inserted himself under my arm and legit put his paw around me – like a furry human giving me a cuddle!

They know, alright.

I made myself some breakfast and tried to resist the urge to delay travelling into Agadir, as part of me didn’t want to have a rabies vaccine and part of me felt like even going to get checked was a bit of an overreaction.

My hand was sore, and whilst the swelling had subsided there was a small scratch in the area where I’d been bitten.

Eventually, I took action by WhatsApping the taxi driver Mary had recommended, to ask whether he’d be available to take me into the city in the next hour or so.

He didn’t respond, so as it was getting late in the morning I decided to try and figure out InDrive.

Uber is illegal in Morocco but they have a similar app called InDrive. The main difference being you pay in cash at the end of your journey…and technically it’s also illegal.

I’d been advised to sit in the front, so I don’t look like a taxi passenger, and to be discreet with payment.

When you open the InDrive app and enter your destination it will give you the typical fare. You can then choose the option to book any driver who will drive you for that fare, or see who is available. I chose the latter option, as I’d also been advised to choose a driver with high ratings. I immediately got inundated with notifications. They disappear after a short time, and I found it challenging to process the ratings and price before I lost them.

Finally, I managed to accept one at the recommended price and waited outside the mosque for him; I’m on an unnamed road, so thought that would be the most obvious meeting point.

I had to wait ten minutes and it got right to when the driver was supposed to arrive but there was no sign of him, and then he disappeared completely from my app. I had no idea how to find or message him.

So I repeated the process and this time accepted a slightly higher price.

This time, the taxi driver arrived within 5 minutes. He was super friendly and told me more about how InDrive is necessary for him to be able to look after his family, and work, but that it comes with complications, especially when he works with tourists. When he’s with a Moroccan, he can easily lie and say the person is a family member but with a tourist it’s obvious and he can get fined. He said the normal taxis also rip tourists off – charging double or even triple the actual fares – which causes additional problems and he’s also not okay with tourists being charged more just because they come from a different place.

We drove into the city and he dropped me right outside the Bureau Communal d’Hygiene. As we bid goodbye, he told me the souk was not far and suggested I check it out after. I thanked him and we parted ways.

As I walked towards the entrance I could see a message from the recommended taxi driver apologising for his late response and suggesting a time after lunch. I explained I’d had time urgency in getting into the city and told him I’d message him to see if he had availability when I was ready to head home.

The Bureau Communal d’Hygiene was a tall building that definitely gave government office vibes. The man on reception didn’t understand English and I didn’t know the word for ‘rabies’ in French (it’s ‘rage’) but once I said vaccination he told me I needed to go to the first floor and it’d be the second office on the right.

Walking up the stairs, I passed a woman who looked like she was from an English speaking country (I’m guessing Australian, but I could be wrong), holding a cotton pad to her arm and grimacing. I said it looked like I’m there for the same reason she is and she grimaced again, but didn’t say anything.

At the top of the stairs were two frosted glass offices, one of which said ‘RAGE’ on the door.

A lady wearing a hijab was walking with an elderly gentleman across the waiting area. She indicated for me to sit in one of two seats across from the offices. No one else was around.

After just a couple of minutes a man appeared and said something to me that I didn’t quite understand. At this moment, the lady gestured for me to follow her and for the man to sit, so I guess he’d been asking if I’d been waiting to be seen.

In French, I asked the lady if she spoke English. She told me she spoke a little.

I explained to her what had happened, showed her my hand and said I was there to check if rabies treatment was necessary.

It was.

She asked to see my passport (which I hadn’t thought to take, so I showed her a photo of it and also gave her my GHIC card, which is what I’d thought I would need. 

The lady began filling in forms on a big square of yellow card and then showed me that I would need a series of 5 vaccinations starting that day and then on days 3, 7, 10, 17 and 24. She told me to take photos of the vials and gave me the booklet that came with the vaccine. According to these days, my next dose would be due on Sunday and when I queried that, she told me they’re open on Sundays – they’re open every day, in fact.

I told her I was a little nervous (a friend had told me he hoped I didn’t have to have the vaccine as it’s a really nasty one) and she was super reassuring.

She swabbed my arm and injected…thankfully it didn’t hurt. At all, actually. She did leave the needle in for what felt like an exceptionally long time, though.

I told her I’d see her Sunday and she said, “Alhamdulillah.”

And that was it.

Rabies vaccines here are also free, so there was no cost.

Leaving the building, I walked aimlessly in the vague direction of the souk as I felt filled with adrenaline.

I wandered the streets, just focusing on walking without agenda. And then I found myself in front of the imposing, fortress-like walls of Souk El Had.

The souk was an impressive building made of sand-coloured stone. Huge, ornate wooden doors in arched doorways led to a maze of stalls spread over a huge area. Periodically, there were little courtyard areas with stone benches under the shade of trees.

Much like the market in Anza, the souk was fairly quiet and mainly populated by locals, though I did see more tourists here than I have in Anza. Considering it’s known for being a surfing town, I’ve actually seen very few surfers, or any other non-locals, in Anza.

Perhaps due to the time of year.

A few stallholders did call out to me, but being polite and keeping walking was sufficient; they didn’t harass me. One passing man looked at me, said, “Wow, beautiful” …but we both kept walking and he didn’t try to follow me.

The stalls were selling much the same items at the market, plus ceramics, jewellery and trinkets. 

I pottered around for a while and then a wave of tiredness overcame me. I had a headache and I’m not sure if that was a side effect of the vaccine or whether it was due to not having had much to eat or drink yet.

Making my way to one of the courtyards near an exit, I sat on a stone bench under a tree.

It was a tranquil area, filled with bird song. 

Lots of people were also sitting in the shade, watching the world go by. Next to me was an elderly man with a cart containing flattened cardboard boxes; he’d also placed a piece of cardboard to sit on.

On the other side, three older ladies hovered. Two of them spoke some words to the third and then left her and disappeared into the souk. She took a seat, placed a cloth at her feet, slipped off her sandals and silently began to pray.

Around us were an abundance of cats: cats in the greenery, cats sleeping in the sun, cats playing and cats investigating the wicker items placed around the base of the archways. 

I watched one tiny white kitten sleeping near a basket. After some time it woke, and followed a man walking along, mewing.

He picked it up and sat on the bench next to mine with it, petting it.

Spotting me smiling, he walked over, handed me the kitten and left. I gently placed the kitten on the bench and the eyes of the woman who had been praying filled with joy. She said something in Arabic to me but I couldn’t understand her.

I let the kitten pad over to her and resumed people-watching. I’d noticed a couple of men wearing red and big, colourful, domed hats walking around and ringing bells. This had piqued my curiosity, so I Googled it and apparently they’re water carriers. These days rather than actually selling water they’re more likely to earn their money from tourist paying for photos. 

An elderly man selling shopping bags approached me, asking if I would like to buy one. This had happened to me a few times in Anza market too, so I simply told him “La, shukran” (No, thank you) and he left.

By this point my stomach was growling. I hadn’t passed any food stalls so I had a look at Google maps to find a restaurant. Surprising myself, a burger place caught my eye: I’m not really one for burgers normally but I suddenly found myself craving one. I can only assume it was some weird internalised comfort thing.

The place  was also super close, so I decided to follow the lead of my body and eat there.

I was greeted warmly and given a choice of seats and a menu. I ordered a regular burger, no onion, and a homemade lemonade. 

Again, this actually seemed to be a local spot. A man with two small children approached me – turns out he was the owner – and asked if I was American. I told him no and he bid me welcome.

The burger was really nice and the whole meal well-priced at 45 MAD for the lot (£3.52).

As I paid, the owner checked I that I had enjoyed my meal and said he hoped I’d return soon.

I decided to walk towards Agadir beach. It would take more than 30 mins but I’ve been trying to get my steps in and it was a good excuse to see more of the city. Agadir has a lot of tree-lined boulevards. I passed schools, shops, hotels and had to cross a LOT of roads.

Walking past the Royal Palace landscaped grounds, there were security guards every minute or so. I greeted each of them with, “Salam.”

The beach looked a bit bleak, but that was probably more because it had clouded over and everything was grey. Agadir beach is more of a sun lounger beach, and fringed with hotel complexes; the waves still looked pretty high, though.

I decided to message the taxi guy about getting home at this point.

Waiting for his response, I was approached by a couple of sellers – there are a few of them on this beach – but none of them were persistent.

The taxi driver said he would be around 10 minutes, so I headed for a bench on the beach road and sat down. 

A local man carrying a big bottle of water passed me, doubled back and tried to strike up conversation. I was polite, but avoided eye contact or engaging, He told me he would like to talk to me and I said I was waiting for a lift. Then he asked if I had insta or WhatsApp to keep in touch. At this point, as much as I don’t like lying I decided to tell him I had a boyfriend. He appeared surprised but this tactic worked. He held out his hand for me to shake it, held on a little too long and then walked off.

Within no more than a couple of minutes, a second man started almost a copy/ paste conversation, so I invented a boyfriend for him too.

As a UK style royal carriage carrying two tourists passed, and I was pondering what on earth that was about, the taxi driver messaged to say he had been in an accident and wouldn’t be coming after all.

I ordered an InDrive, but with only a minute until his arrival he messaged to ask me to cancel as he can’t carry tourists.

Ordering another involved a wait but fortunately this one did turn up. His car was white, not burgundy, and he was drinking from a bottle of beer as he drove, but he got me home.

Beyond tired by this point, I snacked on random items I had in the fridge – cheese, an apple, tomatoes and a bread roll – and spent the rest of the evening Netflix and chilling with the cats.