Turning for home

This hotel is stuffed with UN staff. The parking lot is full of their vehicles. As I was leaving breakfast this morning, I said hello to a guy sitting on his own and he turned out to be an Irish Army Officer on secondment to the UN. Seems like a 6 month posting is the norm and this one to Laayoune is pretty good compared to some of the sub-saharan ones like Chad. And compared to one of the postings out in the desert next to the Berm seperating the combatants, the town of Laayoune is pretty cosmopolitan. Michael suggested I call in on another Irish Officer stationed in Smara about 120 miles away near the frontier so off I went. Nothing like a mission....and I got lost leaving and spent 40 minutes wandering the grubbier end of town through the markets on a beemer at walking pace. The locals seemed to enjoy it though.


5 requests to show my passport later and repeated questions about my occupation, I arrived in Smara and rode into this UN camp and went looking for this other Irish chap. It is bizarre to see how far you will go to meet a compatriot. When you are in the boonies, you make an effort. Cian made me a coffee and and he explained that this posting to Smara is better than the other postings on the Mauritanean side of the border or one of those even further out in the desert where the temperature reached 47C for 3 weeks running in the summer. It shows a positive nature when you can see these small differences as benefits..... I cant show any pictures cos the military are very twichy about photos of their toys....sorry.


What I can show you is pictures of the desert and one slightly sadder looking bike:-( Spot the missing light.
I am discovering just quite how big a place The Sahara is. I spend the whole day pooting along at 80mph and seemed to go such a little distance on the map. I think I saw about 15 cars the whole day. Some people have an image of it as just sand dunes but that isnt the case.




You see amazing colours, beiges, reds, ochres, browns, green, black and amazingly quite a bit of water.....and the occasional nice bike. There are mountains, hills, plains and salt flats. I think it looks its best in the early morning or later afternoon when the sun is not so strong. Today is the first day I started to ride north again and I can actually see clearly.

Just heard from Nigel in Marrakech and he is on the mend so hope to meet up with him next week. Seems the did an op on him and he was 2 days from "pegging it" to use his words. Lucky guy to catch it in time and close to some people who could help.

Duck...and other things broken

Got up at dawn to see camels grazing in the distance. Breakfasted with the family on bread and olive oil and got directions down the coast along the piste. After obligatory pics with the family on the bike I set off on the piste following the GPS track and map. Piste, I thought,we did 200km of that last year in Argentina and Chile. No problem.


Richard Allen predicted this bit quite accurately....It was all quite exciting and then it got very exciting. I was not paying enough attention and hit a patch of mud and threw the bike on the ground. The right side of the bike was completely caked it it. I managed to lift it and got going again and about 30 minutes later hit a patch of sand....seems I wasnt paying attention again! Seems thqt the slippy stuff is hard to see sometimes. After that, I was well warned and knew what sand and mud looked like and stayed clear when I could. After that the problems were a more obvious.


Oueds, lots of mud and very rocky pistes. I followed a gps track to get out of this as quickly as possible. This is a tiny example of the terrain.....stop, check it out, fill the bottom with stones if necessary and off again. I kept the bike upright and going for the rest of the 3 hours it took to get to some asphalt and it never felt better. I got to the next service station and had a guy hose the bike down and me too for good luck. I noticed then I had blown the headlight bulb and broken one of auxiliary lights. Bugger. The duck is officially broken now. I predicted at least one blip on the trip and this was it.


Decided to continue on to Laayoune about 200 miles south of TanTan. The road from Tantan runs alongside the cliff for a lot of the route and you see lots of people in the middle of nowhere with a rod and line hanging over the edge. The cliff mist be 150 feet high and very crumbly. You have to like a fish supper to want to do that. I saw this interesting hole as an example of the cliff.



This bit of Morocco (i.e. ex Spanish Sahara) is disputed territory and the UN are here to broker a settlement between the parties. There are police checkpoints all over the place and I had to show my passport 3 times today and they always ask what your job is. If you are a journalist, you probably wont be allowed to enter. The UN have block booked most of the rooms in the best hotels in town and the prices reflect their presence. Felt like treating myself and washing the mud out from between my toes so checked into one of the swankier places. This is as far south as I go.

Moroccan Hospitality

Left Tafaroute in blazing sunshine with a plan to see some rocks in the area...some pretty big rocks at that. The guidebook says that this area resembles the badlands of South Dakota,but I have never been so dont know. It is pretty beautiful though. Mile after mile of granite tors with the most impressibe of then being called 'Le Chapeau de Napoleon'

A bit further up the same road, in 1984, a Belgian artist had the bright idea to paint some of the rocks with 18 tons of paint and the assistance of a team of Firemen. They have faded a bit in the sun but it is quite a sight when you pop over the hill and see them. Some locals have added their contribution though sadly not with the same impact.


I wandered on south and left the Anti Atlas mountains behind with the aim of heading to the desert proper and warmer weather. I was heading for Tantan but had the bright idea to go see the 60km or so long 'Plage Blanche'. It was getting late and I had decided to pitch tent but was having trouble finding a suitable site. The road gave way to rocky piste (the GPS said it was a road....) and then I decended into a large Oued to get some softer ground to pitch on. Some passing kids invited me to pitch next to their house and one jumped on the back of the bike to show the way. In retrospect, it was a much safer place to camp as if it had rained in the mountains, the Oueds can flood very quickly. The kids even helped me pitch tent.....and I needed it. It was dark by now and I had never pitched the tent before....recipe for a cock-up. 'Always pitch the tent before you go to the pub' is the maxim.

As I was settling down to my freeze-dried pasta dinner, they brought me some freshly made bread and an invited to come to their house. The house was basic by european standards, a single room really. No electricity, running water and 3 generations sitting on the floor drinking tea by candle light. Grandad hacking away in the corner and praying at the ritual times. I gave them a slide show on the laptop of the pics I took in Morocco. The Granny was so impressed with it that she started trying to marry me off to the grandaughters when she heard I was single. Later, the only the males were offered bread and olive oil, not the females. Amazing hospitality from poor people, you almost never get that from people that have something to lose...i.e rich bastards like us.

Four Seasons In One Day

Got going fairly early (for me...9am) and started off south west through an valley stuffed with Acacia trees.For a tree that has given its name to hundreds of streets in the UK, it is a bit of a let down. None of the specimens I saw were taller than 5m and most were decidedly ticthy. There was plenty of evidence of the recent rain and the damage caused with roads washed away and lots of gravel/dust/clay.


I decided to head for Tafaroute to see some famous painted rocks and the 'Chapeau de Napoleon' so I turned north-east and back up into the Anti-Atlas mountains. More spectacular scenery than you can shake a stick at. You can get blase about it, there is so much jaw dropping stuff to see. If this scenery was available in europe, there would be trains of coaches clogging the roads. All I saw for the morning were about 10 cars....just me on this incredible twisty road (good surface too!) pootling along at 55mph rubber-necking the whole time.


Then I paid for the morning and got '4 seasons in 1 day'. I climbed on up to about 1700m and went about 50km and the weather started to close in. With about 90k to go to Tafaroute, it started to sleet/snow and the temp dropped to -1. In a car this would not be much of a problem (heater/wipers/stereo etc) but with my visor fogging up on the inside and the snow sticking to the outside, it took 3 hours to do the 90k and I didnt see jack. All I knew is that if the views (and drops) were anything like those on the climb up, then it was best to slow down and stick to the middle of the road. Checked into the finest hotel in town ( i.e. the one with a bath) and started the thaw.

On The Road Again

Nigel is still in the Hospital and still in the dark as to what is happening. Seems that the insurance company and the medics are coming to a consensus as to what happens next but probably it will mean a trip to Marrakech and further checks there and possibly a flight home in the short term. Like the saying goes "He who turns and runs away lives to fight another day" and the trip can start again when he is mended. There is a big complication with the bike. If you bring a vehicle into Morocco you have to bring it out, have it stolen or officially get it stored by the customs men or...you dont leave...it is as simple as that. Peter told us a story of a rider who crashed and broke some bones, left the hospital in plaster and went straight to the airport but was denied departure for a week as his bike papers were not in order. I am a little sad to leave Bikershome today, it is a sort of oasis of friendliness. Peter and Zineb are the sort of people you want to have near in a crisis. Nigel and I were extremely lucky to have decided to stop early a few days ago. We could easily have woken up in this tiny village Foum Zguid where I am now...and the story would have been very much more difficult. (PIC)

About 20 miles down the road, I passed this. It is a real double-take moment when you see it....American diner, complete with rusting American cars on the lot. It was built for a movie (The Hills Have Eyes?....or some other shlock scary movie) and is just sitting there decaying away on the roadside. Of course it has its resident guy asking for money when you take a camera out....

The road is just one amazing sight after another with deep valleys and jagged mountains. Already the faces of people around have changed quite a bit. People here are a lot more African looking rather that Berber/Arab and the villages are far less touristy and a more 'agricultural'. There is no industry down here other than agriculture as far as I can see. Continued on to a village called Foum Zguid which is about 40km from the Algerian border. Stopped in the only hotel in town and as far as I can see I am the only guest. Still got a very friendly welcome and am paying the princely sum of 200DH (£16) half board.

Bummer

Nigel woke up this morning complaining of pains in his chest and was having difficulty breathing so we decided to get it checked out. I thought it might be related to the altitude here or the stress of having made a big change in his life recently. Zineb brought us to the local private clinic and he was seen very quickly They did the necessary tests and he has been diagnosed with a heart problem so cant ride any further. We are waiting to see what a specialist cardioligist says but he may have to go off to Marrakech to be treated. What a bummer.


Spent the rest of the day visiting hospital & sorting some stuff out for Nigel. Eventually went to the souk and bought Betsy (or at least the outside of her) to sit on. I was fleeced (no pun intended) when I paid DH280 for her but it was the only sheepskin in town. She was a big 'un and would have covered 4 saddles :-).

Gorgeous Gorges

Left Tinerhir for a spin up to see the famous Todra Gorge. The walls of rock rise 160m vertically and at its narrowest, I guess it is about 30 feet wide. Only a little trickle of water runs through it at the moment but when it rains hard, it is a very different story. Outside winter, you can ride north through the gorge and come back down the Dades gorge but sadly all we could manage was about 5k beyond the narrowest point where frozen mud sent us back down the valley. I leaned later that there are 3x 2800m passes to cross on that route and all had lying snow on them so that is a non-starter on these bikes at this time of year. I got my first puncture on the way down and I got to actually use one of those bits of kit I have been hauling round for the past week. At least it worked and we got underway reasonable quickly. The very small bicycle pump I brought had me in a bit of a sweaty lather to get the wheel back to the correct pressure so I might have to think about that one again.


50 Km down the valley we turned right up to the Dades Gorge. The rock in this area is really not much more than compacted clay and is easily eroded so even small rivers cut deep. The last 1k up to the summit is spectacular. Serious switch backs with a 1 in 4 gradient in places. I saw a truck with a herd of sheep on the roof ( plus shepherd) come down it. Took the obligatory photo and fended off the friendly hawkers and started down the 'Street of the Kasbahs'. Kasbahs are fortified houses, some ancient and very crumbly, some relatively well preserved. All seem to be built of mud and stones and dont seem to weather that well.


We are now holed up in Ouarzazate in an excellent auberge (www.Bikershome.net) run by a Dutchman and his Moroccan wife. Some hotels pride themselves on their swimming pools, casinos etc. This place has a fully equipped workshop and a garage, a real luxury here. This place is dedicated to motorcycle touring in an area with some amazing terrain. A fantastic meal and great company. Going to search for a sheepskin in the souk tomorrow to put on the saddle to pamper my behind.