Colours

We set off from our 1970's bunker like hotel past this local Kasbah at the crack of 10 o'clock. To be fair to our hotel, it did have a certain 'Prisoner' like ambiance and the grub was excelllent but if it is exposed concrete render decor you like, then the any station Jubilee line extension is probably a better look. This old Glaouli Kasbah is much more the Morocco we came to see.


It is hard to think of Morocco as a green place. I think of North Africa and picture Mountains, sand, rock and general dryness. The weird thing is at the moment, the place is covered in green....and in the most unexpected places. Even the bare rock seems to be able to support some life.


We headed for Tafaroute with the idea of dumping the luggage in a hotel and going for a ride without weight on the bike for a change. In the 1980s, a Belgian artist and an off duty fire crew took 16 tons of paint and went a but nuts. We went for a look at the painted rocks and rode around amongs them. The rocks shapes are mad enough on their own but when they are painted, the look genuinely surreal.


Richard got a bit bored riding his bike in the generally accepted 'normal' manner and so decided to improvise. There is a video of what happened next but again, this had to be censored for the general good.

Distance 185km

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Rocky Road

Last night, it blew a hooley but no sandstorm. We were both strangely looking forward to seeing a proper sandstorm but no go. This morning, the sun was out (as usual) but thankfully, the temperature was a balmy 20c and very pleasant for motorcycling. The air had cleared and visibility was improved to the point that it was worth taking a picture of the huge dunes.


We set off and a gaggle of kids spotted us and gave chase, some as young as 4 years old. This is a common theme, being chased by dogs or children. The kids were much friendlier than the dogs. 'Un Stylo, Un Dihram, Un Bonbon' was the normal request but sometimes they pointed to their teeth asking for something but we couldnt figure out what the wanted. You cant carry that many pens, sweets rot the teeth and I dont want to encourage begging....call me stingy.....but it makes you wonder how the kids can be out in the middle of nowhere chasing two guys on motorcycles for a 'gift'


We hit off to the west and decided to take a 'short cut' to Zagora via a Piste. We knew the first 8k would be rocky but didnt realise how much it would take out of us. It was real boneshaking stuff and not a lot of fun. We hoped the remaining 48k would be easy hardpack but no such luck. After a while the rubble gave way to intermittent sand, baked mud, gravel and occasional general rockiness.


We came across this very cheerful guy who had a little cafe and souvenir fossil stall in the middle of nowhere. I think he relied on passing tourist 4x4s and motorcycles. A glass of super-sweet mint tea and some advice on the route was duspensed and off we went again.



Just before Zagora, the piste finally became easy and fast. At this point it was a bit of an effort to stop to take a pic as I was hot and tired and craved a cold beer. A real 'Ice Cold in Alex' moment. SWe stooped in the second hotel on the way into town...only because the first one ( next door) is full.

Distance 293km

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To the Desert

I slept badly last night. I had a brick for a pillow, a tiny cot for a bed, a lopsided futon for a mattress and a single smelly blanket for warmth. The shower was a unique multi function device, you could shower and go to the toilet in it...t the same time if that is your thing. Still the place itself had some charm, was located in Morocco's version of the Grand Canyon and the food was very good. For £20 dinner bed & breakfast, you cannot complain too much. Next time though, I will sit on the bed and smell the blanket before I commit.



We headed south along the Ziz valley with its miles of Palmeries to the sand dunes at Erg Chebbi. At Erfoud, we decided to take the piste to Merzouga rather than the road so had to ford the river. Some friendly spaniards came past on motocross bikes and offered advice on the line to take as there were two big holes to negotiate under the water. They waited on the other side to see what would happen. Some of the locals took an interest too but we disappointed all and stayed very much dry.


The road gave way to sand and rock. I have to say I felt a whole lot more confident this time round on this terrain than last December. When the sand grabbed the front wheel, I had the bottle to open the throttle and let it straighten up. Despite the weight of the bike, it handled well.


After 20 miles of piste, I was feeling the heat. It was 30c and the wind was blowing. The sand was starting to fly but visibility was not a problem. A dust devil almost took me off, whipping me first left then right as it passed. Ass puckering stuff...Stopped tonight in the same hilltop Kasbah I stayed in last time. Noticed there that I picked up my first puncture of the trip, a nice straight 2 inch nail God knows how that got in.

Distance 161km

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Cedar Forest

At breakfast this morning, we argued the toss over where to go today. Richard had a burning desire to head straight for the big sand dunes down south and I argued to stay in the cedar forests in the mountains south of Azrou. We compromised and agreed to do what I wanted first and then go south. Initially it was all lovely wiggly tarmac but then it got a bit more interesting with baked earth piste.




Everywhere you pass, the kids wave to you. Some run out to the side of the road excitedly. This must be what the Queen sees....;-) They seem genuinely excited to see strangers on bikes coming through.




I was trailing Richard by a quarter mile when I saw him stop to read the map. Suddenly kids streamed out of the woods around. One was riding the sorriest looking donkey I ever saw. The kids seemed happy enough but the poor beast had some very sore looking ears.




We wandered a bit and the piste got alternatively good and bad depending on your point of view. Richard had a bit of a momenmt crossing this bridge and got a mud splattered and helpfully decided get his camera out and wait till I came past instead of warning me. There is now a video of my shock but it contains too many expletives to broadcast to younger viewers.

Distance: 303km

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Snow and Rock

We planned last night to set off early and have bit of an adventure. The original idea was to get to Midelt via a windy secondary route with a bit of piste ...and a 2400m pass in the way. It started badly when we forgot to set the alarm clock, Richard mislaid his bike key and then we struggled to find a petrol station with unleaded. Still, an hour and a half later than originally intended, we set off and made excellent progress. The road was better than the map said it would be. No problems....just a bit of snow on the peaks in the distance.


Then we got near the snow and there was a lot of it. From a distance it makde a very interesting pattern on the mountain, sort of like a Zebra pelt. And then the nice asphalt disappeared and the banks of snow piled up on each side of the road and we felt the adventure was beginning.


I met a man on the side of the road who advised us not to go over the pass saying it was blocked....but it didnt look like it to us so we went up towards it. What did worry us a lot was the melting snow and the creeping feeling that the bikes might trigger an avalanche. The wall of snow on my left about 100m further up near the top of the pass gave us both the creeps so we turned around and decided to play it safe and go down a different route. The funny thing about the directions you get here is that they are often spectacularly vague or wrong. I think we could have got over the pass but it felt wrong so will have co come back and try it later when there is less snow about.

And then I threw the bike on the ground. One of those slow motion drops you cant stop cos the bike is so heavy. Luckily, my manservant Richard was on hand to do the heavy work and right the beast. No new dents or scratches, just improvements to the ones I put there last time. We set off down the mountain with the idea of getting to a shower, a bar and a hot meal in that order. After a fab ride through

On the outskirts of Azrou, I overtook these two chaps. One was towing the other on inline skates down the road. Bonkers. Checked into the best hotel in town with Wifi access.

Distance: 270km

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Coast Road

We left surrey and immediately felt we were not carrying enough technology so made a quick pit-stop in Maplin in Portsmouth where Richard bought a hamster powered netbook to while away the lonely hours. 24 hours later, we were in Spaoin and on the bikes and on the way. Traversing Spain at 60mph is a pain in the arse...literally. We decided on the bum and mind numbing approach to conserve the knobbly tyres for when we might need them. No thought was give to sanity or the ability to sit comfortably for 10 hours straight. And to make it more interesting, I picked up one of those flu/viral stomach bugs which made me feel like crap so struggled to keep going sometimes. Eventually we got to Algeciras and I put on all my thermals and went to bed to try and roast the bugger out. It seems to have worked...

For our first day in Morocco, we decided to head east across the northern coast road to Al Hoceima. It is a beautiful coastline with amazing twists & turns along the edge of the Rif mountains. It looked like a nice gentle start to the trip on the recently upgraded road. Upgraded on the map that is. Sadly, the cartographer was ahead of the men in the diggers. Some of the roads marked on the map were very 'aspirational'. It was great fun and very dusty and a lot longer than we had bargained for.

The countryside is vivid green with red soil. It seems very fertile though very hilly. This is the main Cannabis cultivation part of Morocco and apparently, there are some 800,000 people working in the industry. Depending on who you talk to it is either the 1st to 3rd biggest foreign export earner in Morocco. We passed fields of the stuff. The grow lots of other stuff besides and Donkey transport seems to be the way to get around and bring stuff home from the fields. If you dont have a Donkey, manual labour has to substitute.

We rolled into Al Hoceima as the sun was setting, just about not breaking the golden rule of not riding at night. We stopped outside town to try sort out a hotel by phone and thougt we got a good deal. We found the place and then checked in to find out it was even cheaper (£15!) for a twin. Bargain! A little later we walked past the place we had actually reserved.... Doh!

Distance: 257km

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Back In The Saddle Again

As Gene Autry (old time cowboy singer) put it, I am 'back in the saddle again'. Strangely, Aerosmith have a song with the same title but it is not as easy to hum. This time I am in company and going equipped for a little more adventure. This is the trip that should have been last time had Richard not let the demon work get in the way of play.

The bike is loaded up, the road tyres changed for knobblies and a fresh dead sheep on the saddle to protect from the dreaded piles. With two of us, we can afford to be a bit more adventurous with the routes so I packed plenty of gaffer tape and cable ties to stitch the old girl back together should the ground leap up and bite.

I bumped into Nigel Swaby a the the weekend and he is planning to head back to Morocco to continue his trip south to South Africa via all sorts of hot, wet and sometimes dangerous places. The doctors have given his dicky ticker the all clear so he is off is search of heat and dust and mud. We arranged to meet up on the 16th or 17th of April in Morocco to have a wake.

Right, off to the ferry now.