hi Choutos
You misunderstand me , the room was 325dh and 25dh for the parking!
Dave

__________________

Hi K,
For some reason I seam to be able to get onto my blog ok but perhaps you tell the rest of the family I'm struggling to get my e mail connection, I'm not being rude or anything!
The rug is being shipped over by DHL after I get back to the UK.
I haven't had any alcohol since arriving here

__________________

DAY 9 - MON 12TH OCT 2015 - TETOUAN TO FEZ - 170 MILES APPROX


As good as gold there was Mohammed in my hotel lobby at 9.30am on the button and a short 5 minute ride we were at the insurance office. 620 dirhams (£42) later I was all legal and good to go, well for the next 10 days anyway!
On saying goodbye to Mohammed I felt a bit sad as he had been so generous and helpful with his time. If anyone else is thinking of visiting Tetouan anytime soon let me know and I will give you his mobile number!
I'm going to digress briefly as I forgot to tell you about another piece of remarkable good luck I had on my first day in Morocco. If you recall soon after landing in Morocco I had to stop in order to top up the oil level, which ,by the way, is done via a filler cap at the top of the frame of the bike as this is where some of the oil for the engine is stored. I probably then rode for another 25 miles or so before getting to Tetouan. Once at the hotel I was just parking my bike up for the evening in a shack at the back of the hotel when I noticed to my horror that I hadn't replaced the oil dipstick/filler cap and all I could see was a hole in the frame where said cap should have been! Needless to say I gave myself a mild telling off including 'Dave you stupid f--k, you total tw-t and you totally stupid forgetful C U Next Tuesday' word which I hate!! But then I immediately remembered I'd precariously poked the dipstick/filler cap between my handlebars and the hydraulic brake hose. I looked and incredibly it was still there!! I thanked god, but remembered where I was and made it Allah instead!
Anyway back to today. With Mohammed's excellent instructions to get me on the right road I was soon heading due south using the excellent Michelin map and the basic but pretty accurate sat nav map that my son had managed to download or is that upload?! Anyway it's recommended by Chris Scott ( It's called OLAF in case anyone's interested). You can't type in destinations and then ask it to navigate or anything but it does show you which road you're on and the direction in which you are heading.

RIF MOUNTAINS WITH NO REEFERS (SEE BELOW!)
The scenery for the first half of the journey was stunning with the spectacular Rif mountains all around. I by-passed a town called Chechaouen which is apparently the epicentre of the where most of the famous Moroccan cannabis originates from and sure enough as I slowed down to get on to the Chechaouen ring road, from nowhere an old man on a moped appeared on a moped next to me arm outstretched and several clingfilm wraps of the famous Moroccan black in the palm of his right hand. I politely declined and used the palm of my right hand to squirt open the throttle to leave the mafia godfather of hash a diminishing dot in my wing mirrors.
The scenery gradually morphed into parched brown rolling hills and eventually the land flattened out completely and there sprawling in the distance was the great city of Fez one of Morocco's largest cities; factoid alert!; with a population of well over a million inhabitants. As I approached the outskirts another moped magically appeared beside me. 'Hey hello englishman, if you are looking for hotel near centre of Fez you are going the wrong way, I know good hotel 350 dirhams, follow me, if you no like you go your own way!' As my last guide had served me so well I decided to again place my trust in a total stranger and so I tagged on and into the mayhem of the Fez traffic we plunged! I did make a mental note to myself that should we stray into one of the concrete high rise housing estates around the city I would break off and make my own way. But to be fair my skinny semi-toothless guide stuck to all the main busy roads until the very last bit when we turned into a quiet leafy street and and into the lovely little Riad Aliane hotel. It was 400 (£27.50)dirhams a night but this included secure parking and breakfast. I was shown past an enclosed peaceful courtyard with carpet on the walkways, mosaic walls all around and luxurious sofas both in the reception and in the courtyard. I was shown to a tastefully decorated en-suite room and the whole place had a lovely feeling of cool peaceful tranquility. Wanting to explore Fez in more depth I decided to book 2 nights there and then! Meanwhile Fahd fussed around me arranging for some of the famous Moroccan mint tea to be served. I commented how nice it was and, sensing my need for further Moroccan culture, suggested I might like to try a traditional Moroccan meal in one of the best restaurants within the confines of the old Medina. Before I knew it I had a table booked and I would be picked up at 8.30pm to go there. I also mentioned to Fahd that I was worried about oil dripping onto the hotel's pristine clean paved area where my bike was parked. 'I know someone who can fix your bike if you like?' Within half an hour I was dodging in and out the traffic following him once more, but this time to the motorbike repair shop. The chap there took a quick look, had a quick chat with Fahd who told me the mechanic would pick the bike up from the hotel tomorrow, fix the oil AND the fuel overflow problem, and then return the bike back to the Hotel. How much? I've no idea, but it would be lovely to continue my adventure without having to worry about these things. Finally Mr. Fix It Fahd told me his dad was an official city tour guide and to get the best of my day tomorrow it would make sense to allow his father to be my guide. Oh well hopefully it will be 25 Euros well spent!
Fahd returned to the hotel in the evening to arrange for the taxi and someone to meet me at the other end outside the old Medina. I was met by a pleasant tubby balding middle-aged man who then led me on foot through a convoluted labyrinth of alleys and passages until after ten minutes or so I entered the fairly ordinary looking doorway into The Palace restaurant. I could then see why it was so-called. The fifty foot high ceiling, upper walls and gallery were all intricately carved cedar wood and the pillars and walls were beautifully inlaid mosaics. The food was just as impressive with a starter of various vegetables all prepared Moroccon style, a main course of lamb and prune tangine with boiled egg and roasted almonds, a bit rich, but the sweetness of the prunes seemed to complement the lamb perfectly. By the time I reached the final course of a simple fruit selection I was stuffed to the gunnels! Oh well I should sleep well tonight, provided those prunes don't have an adverse effect!!

__________________

Yes, I totally misunderstood you . That price makes more sense

Enjoy and keep writing!!!

__________________
http://www.wanderclan.com

Hi Dad,

Hope is all going well!

Maybe if you get a chance tomorrow evening 6-9 BST we can chat on skype. We can have a catch up and hopefully iron out any technical issues you are experiencing

Lots of love
Dan xx

Ok Dan
Do u want me to text you when I'm next to my laptop tomorrow?
xx

__________________

yes please xx

Oh Dave, that all sounds fantastic. I can just picture it all, especially the Moroccan mafia on a moped!! Sounds like your toothless skinny guide, could be another diamond in the rough. All this time i've been thinking poor Dave, i'm glad that's not me, but i'm now feeling quite jealous :-). Now I really want to see a picture of this restaurant and the food!! You should get some pictures on Facebook when Dan's given you the technical lesson on Skype. Love you lot xx

BTW, when are you arriving in Marrakesh? There's lots of all-inclusive hotels there just outside of town where you could fill your boots for a couple of days before continuing.

I will tell the family that you're struggling to get email. Really proud of you Dave x x x

Thanks Karen glad you haven't forgotten me! Had a bit of a moment today!
See blogg! Still not sure about my exact route yet but will bear your suggestion in mind
D xx

__________________

DAY 10 -TUE 13TH OCTOBER 2015 - FEZ (0 MILES)
Sorry everyone I'm just about to have another meltdown! Once more somehow I've pressed the wrong button or touched the screen in the wrong place and I've lost everything for today's blogg. Can't face starting again now. It's getting late and I'm back on the road tomorrow. If I arrive at my next destination early enough will try and catch up then.
Ok so let's try and catch up a little. Last night it took me a while to drift off as I was being hounded by 2 or 3 pesky mosquitoes hunting for my blood. I didn't mind that so much as the sound of the incredibly high pitched buzzing everytime they made a pass of my right earhole! Thankfully I had my bike earplugs close to hand so I used them. Swatting mozzies with earplugs is incredibly difficult you know!!
Next morning after eating a lovely hotel breakfast at 10am on the dot there was my guide, Thami. As we left in a taxi for the Medina slightly worryingly no one had turned up to take my bike off for her second set of repairs. Hey ho no point in worrying about it now. Thami was a fit looking man of about my age spoke excellent english and during conversation he revealed that in the past he was one of his country's top body builders and had traveled all over the world to compete until a back disc injury ended his career. He therefore started his own gym back in Fez and also trained to become a tour guide.

IN FEZ NOT WEARING A FEZ!
Once at the Medina I paid the taxi man 20 dirhams (about £1.40) for the 20 minute journey and once more I was enjoying all the sites, sounds and smells of the Medina. And a bit like Mohammed, Thami seemed to know everyone as we wended our way past mosques, schools, museums, and every kind of shop imaginable. One of the highlights for me was the tannery. We were led up onto a roof top where we could look down on the poor men squelching about, many bare-footed in giant concrete vats of guano (birds s--t) and dye. The smell was quite acrid, even from way on high and so to counteract this we were given sprigs of mint to waft around under our noses. How those men work right in that stuff day after day looked like the stuff of nightmares to me, but an even worse job was when I was taken to the turkish baths. No modern gas powered boiler here. I was shown to a dark little entrance that led down a couple of steps and further down using huge sacks of sawdust and there sat down at the very bottom was a little wizened man well into his seventies shovelling sawdust by hand into the fiery furnace in front of him. It really was a vision of hell as far as I was concerned.
Back up and into the light, Thami continued to bombard me with facts and figures as we concluded the tour next to a small shoe shop. Apparently he had arranged to meet his son for a late lunch somewhere in the Medina. He obviously knew the owner of the shop well because he passed the details of my hotel to him, bade me farewell and I continued my journey to the outskirts of the Medina guided by the shopkeeper. Once there he hailed a taxi for me, told the driver where to take me and I was on my way, back to my lovely little oasis of a hotel, or so I thought! A short while later we arrived in a busy street and the driver pulled over and tried to usher me out of the taxi. 'Non non!' I said trying to use my body language to indicate I didn't have a clue where I was. 'Votre hotel est ici, non?' 'Non, non' I replied. 'Quelle s'apelle votre hotel?' he asked. At this point I once more in my minds eye began cursing myself for being so stupid to leave a hotel in a sprawling city without having a card or it's name imprinted on my mind. All I could remember was 'Riad Ariande' or something similar, but the poor taxi driver just looked at me blankly. We drove up and down the road for what seemed an eternity and as we did so the potential enormity of my problem began to dawn on me and that horrible serpent of panic that starts in the pit of your stomach began to strangle my whole being and I could feel myself breaking out into an uncontrollable sweat all over. In the game of chinese whispers between, Thami, the shopkeeper and the taxi driver how much had the name and location of my hotel become distorted? I could quite literally been miles away in completely different part of the city in a street with a similar sounding name to mine. With my passport and belongings back at the hotel, my bike away goodness knows where being mended I began to think 'Jesus I'm going to have to ask the taxi driver to take me to the nearest police station or embassy/consulate in Fez in order to explain my dire predicament'! Then just as my stomach was doing it's eleventh somersault the driver suddenly exclaimed ' Hotel Dar Aliane!' As he pointed at a sign on a lamp post indicating the hotel was off the main road down the side street which of I then immediately recognised. I can't explain the feeling of relief that flooded over me at that moment, I could easily have leant across and given the taxi driver a great big kiss!! But I settled for paying him and instead gave him a much bigger tip than I normally would've done.
Once back at the hotel things got even better when a little later Fahd turned up with my bike. 'My mechanic he spend all day working on bike. It is 100% repaired Mr. David, no leaks, oil fixed, petrol fixed here are broken bits to prove to you'. He then proudly showed me the old crankcase clutch oil seal and a couple of other very small worn rubber seals that had obviously come from the carburetor somewhere. The cost, £65 the lot! It may have been even cheaper as Fahd had probably put some commission in there for himself somewhere, but regardless I was just so happy to be back at my hotel and hopefully have a bike that was now 'firing on all one cylinder' if you see what I mean? Before he left for the final time I gave Fahd a further tip and in return he gave me his phone number should I ever return to Fez.
In the evening I took a stroll and couldn't help admiring the successor to the mule; the three wheel motorized tricycle pick-ups sporting some chinese single 250 or 350 single cylinder engine and being given macho names like 'Docker' 'Top Moto' 'Tiger Moto' and 'Bat Man'! I will never be able to visualise the Batmobile in the same way ever again!!

TO THE BAT MOBILE ROBIN!

__________________

Great read Smudger, thanks. It kept me entertained whilst I am on the ferry (as I type this) to Zeebrugge. Off to the Balkans won't be as warm as you are
Have a great time

Wayne

__________________
The Balkans
https://new.horizonsunlimited.com/poi_entity/8417

Great reports Smudger; looking forward to the pictures

Hey Wayne
I'm glad you're enjoying it. Don't get too cold around the Balkans, it could be very painful!!
Dave (Smudger)

__________________

Thanks for the kind comments I have tried to make it a little entertaining
Dave (smudger)

__________________