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Morocco DRZ adventure October 2015
DAVE'S DIARY - MOROCCO ADVENTURE OCTOBER 2015
https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-n...2-Ic42/422.JPG JANUARY 2015 After much procrastinating and telling close friends and family that I intended to have a ‘Big long adventure on a motorbike’, I thought I’d better start putting my money where my mouth was and at least start looking around to buy a bike to show others and, perhaps more importantly, myself, that I was serious! After reading Chris Scott’s overland bikers ‘bible’ and checking out Horizons Unlimited I settled on a short list of three. BMW’s 650 X Challenge, Kawasaki’s KLE 500 and Suzuki’s DRZ 400. My only other stipulations were that it should be under £2,500, have under 10,000 miles on the clock, be bog standard and appear to have been reasonably well looked after. Cue much scouring of E Bay, Gumtree and Bike Trader! I found plenty of candidates, but they all seemed to be in far flung places like Penzance, North Wales and Aberdeen! EARLY FEBRUARY 2015 Spot potential candidate on E Bay. Suzuki DRZ400, Yellow (My favourite colour!) Under 5,000 miles on the clock, standard, looked in nice condition on the pics, had a ‘Buy it now’ price of £2,500 and it was only at Chesham, about an hour from Reading! TUE 3rd FEB 2015 The DRZ’s listing was due to finish this evening and surprisingly as yet, despite something like 72 ‘Watchers’ no one had put in a bid! I therefore phoned the vendor, an amiable sounding chap by the name of Gareth. He knew some of the history of the bike together with previous MOT’s all of which tended to suggest the mileage on the bike was genuine. I decided to travel up and have a ‘gander’ at it! I know one mustn’t stereotype but I was reassured upon my arrival to see that it was a nice house in a nice area of Chesham! Gareth was there with his mum and both seemed honest and straightforward, as was the bike! Or so it seemed! No, it wasn’t immaculate, but what do you expect, after all it was a trail bike and it was over 11 years old now! Although I’m no expert I could tell that the engine was running sweet as a nut, it was still all screwed together tightly, wheel bearings, chain and sprockets all seemed pukka! I made an offer of £2,200 and for another fifty quid and a £100 deposit the deal was done! A provisional arrangement was made to collect it on Saturday and I left with a few butterflies of dread and excitement about what I was letting myself in for! FEB TO AUG 2015 I obviously intended to regularly update this blog but as you can see other things seem to have taken priority! However a lot of those things did relate to the bike! For instance to get the kind of rack and pannier supports I wanted at a relatively reasonable price I had to order them from The States (they seem to have all the good stuff in relation to dirt bikes)! I was initially going to just rely on my Michelin Morocco map but bottled it and purchased a Garmin bike sat nav for just under £300. I managed to wire that in straight to the battery as I did with an all-weather cigarette adaptor socket, which I taped to the rear side of the cowl above the headlight. I then went on a camping equipment buying spree in Decathlon. Bought a two man hiking tent, a self-inflating mattress, a sleeping bag, an aluminium saucepan, mug and some cheap plastic cutlery. I seem to recall this lot lightened my wallet by about £130. I could’ve bought a cheap Calor gas stove but being concerned I wouldn’t be able to get replacement canisters in North Africa I ordered a petrol primus burner from e bay for about £60. Next objective, strap it all to the bike and go on a mini camping expedition to see how everything holds up! https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-q...0-Ic42/511.JPG So at the back end of May off I headed to the West Country for my mini adventure staying on designated sites at Corfe Castle, Exmouth and Porlock. Thankfully the rain just about held off; however the first couple of nights were unseasonably cold! Considering I haven’t slept under canvas for about 45 years it didn’t go too badly. First night I hardly slept a wink, second night slept for about 4 hours. By the third night I was so knackered I think I actually got a full 8 hours or maybe I was just getting used to the whole ‘camping’ environment! The bike itself performed faultlessly apart from one embarrassing moment on the morning after my first camp. Whilst sat down enjoying their bacon sarnies my ‘next door neighbours’ had been gleefully watching me carefully load up the bike. When I turned my back just for a couple of seconds to attend to another chore I heard a deep ‘crump’ sound. Turning back, my bike had toppled from the side stand on to its side, breaking the plastic clutch hand guard. I quickly hauled the bike up again pretending nothing had happened. I had gone from Mr. Supercool to Mr. Supertool! The underlying reason for the mishap was the fact that the previous owner had lowered the suspension of the bike without fitting a shorter side stand meaning, when parked the bike was almost bolt upright instead of leaning at a nice safe angle! The only damage was to the plastic clutch lever protector which had sheered completely, but at least it saved the lever itself! More worryingly whenever the bike has been running for a while and I park up I notice the slow dripping of oil from the underside of the bike. Unable to identify where it’s coming from I decide, for the moment, just to keep an eye on the level. Upon returning home, I take stock of what I’ve learnt: 1) I need to get the bike raised back up to its proper height to avoid further embarrassing bike falling over moments! 2) Get the oil leak checked by someone who knows where to look! 3) Get a screen to make ride more serene! 4) Probably ditch my open face patriotic union jack open face helmet in favour of my old full face. Although it looks cool and funky I just find it too noisy and drafty! 5) Lastly and perhaps most importantly I have to do something to try and make the ‘razorblade’ seat more comfy! Point 1) was sorted by a lovely old boy by the name of Malcolm who has his own little back street workshop in Caversham. Thankfully I had the original suspension support links which returned the bike up to its proper height. He also checked point 2), the oil leak which he seemed to think was as a result of being over-filled when I did an oil and filter change soon after purchasing the bike. Reference point 3),I have bought (directly from China!) and fitted a windscreen which has made riding much less drafty! Point 4), will wear my old faithful Shark full face which matches the bike better to! Point 5) I have bought thin weather proof cushion full of what appears to be those little dried beans you get in kids small soft toys. I have tried it on a ride down to Devizies and back and my bum did seem to feel better! But I guess the real test will come when I spend most of the day in the saddle! SEP 2015 OK so as my departure date approaches (Sun 4th Oct 15)my bum is getting quite squeaky as there are lots of jobs I could and should've done sometime ago but for one reason or another, well in fact no reason, I haven't done! For instance I've known one of the the fork legs is leaking oil from a seal for sometime but have chosen to ignore it until now! Malcolm to the rescue! He has now replaced both seals for me and put on a couple of rubber fork gaiters to preserve said seals! So here I am, last week in September still no travel insurance, still learning how to use my new little travel laptop, trying to learn how to do this blog and upload pics, haven't fully loaded the bike yet to make sure everything fits on and won't fall off half a mile down the road! Perhaps most worryingly I couldn't find my MOT so checked on line only to find out it expired at the back end of April! Cue panicked phone call to MTC Motorcycles in Reading to book an MOT for Saturday (the day before I go!). Further panic, I was hoping to take Friday off but too much going on at work, still haven't sorted travel insurance and just realised my number plate is too small and won't pass the MOT. A quick phone call to MTC! They will make one up for me for the day of the MOT for about three times the price you can get them off of e bay, but time is now pressing so I've told them to crack on! I also had a crash course from my son earlier today on setting up and using Skype as my sisters are getting all worried about me and want to check I'm still in one piece after a remote day in the Moroccan desert! Ok so it's Friday night now and feeling a kind of nervous fear/excitement as my departure early sunday draws near! I have sorted the travel insurance for under £30 with a company recommended, called Navigator Travel Insurance. Oh I also forgot to mention that although on my foray earlier this summer I camped I have decided for this trip to just find accommodation as I go for two reasons. Firstly I didn't feel confident about fitting everything I needed on to the bike and secondly,apparently most of the hotels in Morocco are dirt cheap; so I'd be lugging around a load of stuff on the off chance that I might decide to camp for the odd night. Maybe next time eh?! :-) So manic Saturday is upon me! Start doing a bit of packing but have to get the bike down to MTC for that pesky MOT. Anyway the bike flies through the test with it's new big clunky plastic No. plate firmly attached! The guy in the shop also notices there's an oil leak. He seems to think it may be coming from the gear lever shaft or nearby, however he seemed to think it wasn't 'Federal' and I just needed to keep an eye and top up when needed. When I mentioned I was off to Morocco his eyes lit up as he'd ridden out there about 10 years ago. He kept coming out with words and phrases like 'Brilliant, 'It'll blow your mind' and 'The people out there are so friendly and helpful'. So with a spring in my throttle I rode back home to be greeted by my sister with scissors and electric clippers in hand. Half an hour later I was sporting a grade 3 crewcut, well it just meant no worries about what style my hair might come out after being stuck under a crash helmet all day!! Then I continued packing and by 7pm I had the bike fully loaded and all my biking attire laid out in the spare room ready for the next morning. I guess the only logical thing to do was go down the pub for a couple of pints and home for a supper of fish chips, hopefully not 'The Last Supper'! |
Nice post, I'm off there in April with some mates! As for the seat, I swear by gel pads, not the cheap ones, but the decent medical grade ones designed for people who sit in wheelchairs all day.
There's a company called something like medica gel? I think they also sell on ebay. They not only do gel pads for medical use, but as a sideline for motorcycles. I have one and made my own strap on pouch. I rode my Elefant back from Italy last summer, just under 1,000 miles, in a day. No usual arse ache! I also rode my Ducati cafe racer back from the South of France last weekend in two 360 mile days, in relative comfort. Highly recommended ;-) I'll try to find a link. |
This is the company I used, decent medical quality stuff, well worth it. Riding on one feels weird at first as you move around a bit, but a friend with an airhawk pad says the same about his.
http://www.danmedicasouth.co.uk/prod..._wcB]DebbonAir |
Hey Thanks Nick I've invested in this beanie bag thing now so I'll see how it goes for this trip. If it's not up to the job will definitely look into your suggestion.
Thanks again Dave |
https://www.google.es/maps/vt/data=R...=1&h=200&w=555
https://www.google.es/maps/vt/data=R...=1&h=200&w=555 https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-e...2/IMG_4251.JPG 4th OCT 2015 - DAY 1 - READING TO ANGERS ((RDG TO PORTSMOUTH 55 MILES APPROX AND CAEN TO ANGERS 162 MILES APPROX) Predictably bad nights sleep despite a couple of pints up at the White Horse in Emmer Green earlier in the evening! I had set my alarm for 5am but was wide awake by 3.30am, so spent the next hour and a half tossing and turning, worrying about what I should or shouldn't have packed and the multitude of things that could go wrong!! However , thankfully having done all my packing the previous afternoon I was able to just get dressed up in all my motorbike clobber, have a quick slurp of tea and by just after 5.30am I was on my way! Broadly this was a day of five ups and downs: 1) DOWN The ride to Portsmouth was freezing 2) UP The ferry across to Caen was very relaxed with the sea also in an extremely calm state. I even had a chance meet with an old colleague from work. Had a good chat. It was just a shame a lot of it revolved around other ex-colleagues who were, sadly, no longer with us! 3) UP The first 150kms or so of my ride south was glorious warm, dry and good roads. 4) DOWN It started raining heavily and instead of following the good roads on my map, I let the dreaded sat nav take control and ended up doing the last 150kms to Angers on boring motorway like roads into the driving rain. The only saving grace was that it took me virtually to the front door of my overnight hotel, the Ibis Central! 5) UP It was only once I'd peeled off all my sopping bike gear, changed into some dry clothes, gone down to the hotel restaurant for some sustenance that I could feel the warmth returning to my extremities. Only then was I finally able to relax! |
Sounds like my first day in France a few weeks ago, rain for the first 450 miles! Hope it improves for you :-)
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Ride Tales
Hi Dave,
I reckon starting out is always the hardest part so hopefully that's the worst of it and now you can start to relax and enjoy the journey. Maybe be rebellious and ignore the SATNAV. Hope you have a good day today. Maybe try to post a map of your route when you get a chance. It would be good to visualize exactly where you are. Looking forward to the next instalment :-) Karen xxx |
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Weather much better now thanks:thumbup1: |
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Much better route today. Weather improving. Will try at some stage to post a map however I think this may be beyond my limited tecability:thumbdown: |
https://www.google.es/maps/vt/data=R...=1&h=200&w=555
https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-I...2/IMG_4247.JPG (Sorry didn't take any pics today so here's one for those who haven't seen me with my new streamlined haircut!!) 5th OCTOBER 2015 - DAY 2 - ANGERS TO MONT-DE-MARSAN (335 MILES APPROX) After a blissful nights sleep and waking up full of the joys of Spr---autumn, I drew back the curtains and there it was ---- raining AGAIN, HEAVILY. I'm surprised Angers hasn't sunk without trace! Oh well there was nothing I could do about it other than clobber up again in all my wet weather gear and face the elements once more. Thankfully most of my gear had dried out from yesterdays deluge, apart from my gloves and they were still as soggy as two freshly squeezed tea-bags! No hotel booked this time I was just heading south to see how far I could get. So off I paddled!! Somewhere close to Poitiers I stopped for fuel and had to use a completely automated pump with an automated voice barking instructions at you in French! I enlisted the help of a kind car driver next to me, but even he couldn't get it to work. After trying to get it to work for about twenty minutes aforecourt attendant appeared from nowhere announcing that that pump had run out of petrol and I had to try another one. Finally after about 30 minutes I was able to screw my petrol cap back on and get the hell out of there, still in the pouring rain! Bravely I rode on eventually stopping for a late lunch at a typically french restaurant, Mcdonalds!! And then we were off once more, in the pouring rain! But wait what was that I could see in the distance, was it brighter skies? Yes it was and gradually, bit by bit the rain eased and by the time I reached Bordeaux the roads were nice and dry. I nearly ran out of fuel on the run south of Bordeaux because at my previous fill up I had forgotten to reset the petrol tap from reserve back to the on position. And of course with the tap in the reserve position the bike would have gaily kept going until completely empty. Sat Nav to the rescue! Within a couple of K's I was at another automated filling station which eventually accepted the third credit card I had tried to use. So full up once more I rode the last few miles to Mont De Marsan in beautiful warm sunshine and upon arrival i simply used my magic Sat Nav to find me a hotel somewhere near the town centre. For what it was 'The Pyrenees' was quite expensive (59Euros) for a pretty basic room, but at 7.30 in the evening after a long days ride, I didn't fancy scooting round town to other hotels to find out if I could get a better deal. So I took it! Dumped my gear changed and walked out into an evening warmed by the balmy gentle air wafting up from the Iberian peninsula. This, my friends, is more like it! When you've been drenched to the skin two days on the trot, you appreciate the good weather so much more!! |
Hi Dave, glad to see its going well and getting warmer. We'll be keeping a eye o your travels. All the best Sara Bx
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6th OCTOBER 2015 - DAY 3 - MONT DE MARSAN (FRANCE) TO SORIA(SPAIN) 235 MILES APPROX
https://www.google.es/maps/vt/data=R...=1&h=200&w=555 (Not quite my route, mine was more due south going over the Pyrenees, but gives you an idea!) Guess what? Woke up to a blue sky and warm sunshine. Managed to pack up and load the bike a little quicker as I get used to where things are best packed and how I bungee everything to the bike! Having studied my map last night I knew which way I wanted to go and thankfully the satnav agreed with me and within a short time we were out of the town and heading due south on the open road. Then as the Pyrenees began to loom in the distance the road began gently curve back and forth and gradually gain in altitude. Warm sun, twisty quiet roads, as a biker it just doesn't get much better than this! As I approached the summit the road became more sinuous and steep just like the switchbacks you see on the Tour De France. By the time I reached the pass, effectively the border between France and Spain, the wind had picked up and the grey clouds had gathered ominously overhead. On the way down I could definitely feel a drop in the temperature and I caught a couple of light showers. So much for that lovely Iberian weather I was eulogizing about yesterday! https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-j...2/IMG_4265.JPG Once clear of the Pyrenees I have to say I wasn't overly impressed with the northern Spanish countryside, which was largely flat, divided between industrial, scrub and agricultural land. On the way to Soria I must have seen at least three or four large tractor dealers all proudly displaying their Massey Fergusons and John Deeres on the forecourt. And as if to emphasize the point as I arrived in Soria I was stopped by the police in order to allow a huge procession of tractors to rumble by, each one displaying a couple of large green flags on the front of their cabs. I get the feeling they were demonstrating about something or other. Again late last night I had 'cheated' and booked a hotel in Soria on line. However upon my arrival the front of the hotel was completely empty and deserted inside with what appeared to be 'For Sale' signs in the window. Great I thought there's 40 euros down the drain! Thankfully there was another hotel just across the way which I managed to book into without any problems although the proprietor couldn't speak a word of english so I was unable to explain what had just happened. So after unpacking most of my stuff and getting changed I went for a wander through the town when by chance I spotted the Tourist Information Office. I told the lady that her town was presiding over a closed down hotel that was still happy to scam unsuspecting travelers out of their hard-earned wedge! She gave me a confused look and made a phone call to the Alba hotel. The phone was obviously answered and after a brief conversation with whoever was on the other end she told me it was indeed open for business. I thanked her and walked back to the Alba and hey presto I found an obscure side entrance that I hadn't seen before. I tried to explain to the receptionist what had gone on but again, not a word of English. I therefore returned to the T.I. office and asked the helpful lady to phone my new hotel to explain what had happenned. After 5 minutes of intense chat she announced that my new hotel would allow me to transfer back to my original hotel! So I returned to my hotel, hastily gathered all my clobber and after 3 or 4 trips back and forth I was once more a client of The Alba Hotel! All's well that ends well:-) |
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Thanks for your kind thoughts, hope you're enjoying the blog. |
7th OCTOBER 2015 - DAY 4 - SORIA TO GRANADA - 400 MILES
https://www.google.es/maps/vt/data=R...=1&h=200&w=555 I'm sorry everyone I'm not writing anything today as I've just spent about an hour and half updating my blog, somehow pressed the wrong F-----g button or touched the screen in the wrong place and lost the lot! I was having a good day until that moment. Will try and upload a pic and that will have to do I'm afraid :-( https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-P...2/IMG_4273.JPG My Suzi in the foreground with the sun setting on the Sierra Nevada mountains in the distance. Big day tomorrow, ferry to Morocco all being well! OK so I'm in a slightly better mood now and, for reasons which will become clear in tomorrows blog, I have a little time on my hands!! I seem to be getting a little quicker at packing and loading because by just after 9.30am I had saddled up and Soria was just a distant memory in my wing mirrors. I was glad to, as my episode with the closed down part of my hotel seemed to be reflected around a lot of the town with lots of commercial property shut and/or up for sale, very sad. This sadness had rubbed off onto the towns folk as no one seemed to smile or have a spring in their step. I guess this is mostly the result of Spain's crushing debt and unemployment situation. So I'm calling the town SSS - Sad Sorry Soria. If you ever look for Soria on the map it's about 150 miles north east of Madrid and basically in the middle of nowhere! But as a result the motorway is so deserted it's unreal. I was riding along and just counting how long it would take before I would see a car coming from the opposite direction. Sometimes it would be over a minute! I would bet my house against being able to do that on any motorway in England at 10.30 in the morning! There was certainly a chill in the air, but the sun was breaking through and by the time I sailed past Madrid it was lovely and warm! Earlier I'd set the satnav for Algeciras and allowed it to route me on all the main non-toll roads as I wanted to make as many miles as my numb bum could stand in one day!(Anyone from TVAM look away now! And kids don't try the following at home!)) So to alleviate the boredom and to get out of the buffetting effects of the wind whistling across the vast open Spanish plains I began tucking behind the big artic. lorries and as a faster one overtook so I would hitch on to the back of that one and if a coach came thundering past I was laughing!I was like a giant flee hopping from a corgi to a spaniel to a greyhound! ( Greyhound bus - see what I did there!) Never mind! On I went dropping plumb south like stone, passing Toledo, Madridejos, Menzanares, Linares until I could the Sierra Nevada mountains on the horizon! And as I passed Granada to my east so my odometer indicated I'd covered the magic 400 mile mark. And just at that moment so the Marinetto Motel right next to the motorway beckoned me in. I'm glad it did to, although initial impressions were not good as I was greeted behind reception by a lady gaily puffing away on a cigarette! I don't know whether it's illegal in Spain, but you just can't imagine it in our country now can you? However she was extremely friendly and helpful allowing me to park my bike right out the front under the gaze of cctv cameras, my room was en-suite, clean and large and all for 25euros, bargain I'd say! Now for some worrying news. Since riding down my chain seems to be stretching worse than a piece of nicker elastic, will adjust tomorrow first thing. For some reason the breather pipe from my carburetor has started convulsively spewing small amounts of fuel out after I've stopped the engine? Turning the fuel tap to off straight away seems to prevent this but somethings obviously not right there. And also my oil leak seems to be getting worse. Again I will check my oil level first thing in the morning whilst the oil is cool and in accordance with the manual i.e. run for 3 mins switch off ,wait 3 mins then check oil which is actually stored in the top bit of the frame behind the fork yokes. |
Hi Dave, sorry for lack of communication. I've not been at work so struggled to get on the site from home but seem to have cracked it on my mobile
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Will send a longer communication tomorrow. Hope you're having a good day today xxx
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DAY 5 - 8TH OCTOBER 2015 - GRANADA TO MALAGA - 80 MILES APPROX.
https://www.google.es/maps/vt/data=R...=1&h=200&w=555 Yes that's right folks, a measly 80 miles today and no crossing to the 'Promised Land' today I'm afraid! By 8.30am I was down by my bike tools laid out in the car park adjusting my chain. The trouble was by the time I'd tightened everything up I only had a couple of notches of adjustment left and I knew there was no way after a week and a half of riding in Morocco some of which would be dirt roads, that the chain would last. And the chances of being able to get a new chain there would be extremely unlikely. Secondly I did a careful check of my oil to find there was no oil !! Well that's what my dipstick said anyway! I had bought 500ml of oil with me, half of which I used right at the beginning of my trip. So in went the rest and thankfully my dipstick was happy; for the moment! The fuel problem is still occurring although seems to be ok whilst the engine is running, so I must just remember to turn the fuel off when switched off So it was first big decision time. Stay in Spain to try and get the problems fixed or risk it for a biscuit and travel on regardless. It was a no brainer really, I had to get at least the chain and oil leak seen to and thankfully with modern technology I used my laptop to locate a motorcycle repair shop in Malaga and then programmed in the address to the satnav. https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-d...2/IMG_4277.JPG WILL THIS SHOP SAVE MY DREAM? Within a couple of hours of riding, once more in glorious sunshine, I pulled up outside Moto Sprint in Malaga. Thankfully the female receptionist spoke a little English and together with the mechanic who came outside to check the bike I was able to explain about the chain and the oil leak ( I had already bought a gear shift shaft oil seal just prior to my trip as Malcolm, my mechanic back home believed that's where it may be coming from. The annoying thing was I took the bike out for a good 20 minute test ride during the week before leaving and I swear on that occasion it didn't leak. Hence the reason I didn't get it seen to prior to leaving. B-----ks!!) As I suspected he would, the mechanic recommended I also have the sprockets done at the same time. Cue several phone calls from the very helpful lady. After about 40 minutes of phoning round she announced the best they could do was order the parts today and hopefully they would arrive first thing tomorrow. I then asked if she knew of a cheap hotel nearby. She pointed along the road 25 yards and there was the Hotel Guartin right in front of me! After parting with another 40 euros I was shown to my very pleasant room and being assured it was a safe area I was able to park my bike just along the road from the hotel. Trying to look on the positive side I made good use of the afternoon by going for a jog to downtown Malaga to take in the sights. ( I intend to walk back down later to get some pics and probably have a sit down meal). Also it's given me time to catch up with this blog after yesterdays setback. So you must all be on the edge of your seat now wondering ' Well when are you going to Morocco Dave?!' Well I think even if they get the bits and the job is done by early afternoon it will be too late to go tomorrow as I don't want to be arriving there late afternoon looking for accommodation as it gets dark, so I'm afraid it looks as though tomorrow will also be another night spent in Spain. I spent a delightful evening wandering around the city centre. I arrived at the wide main marble, yes marble, pedestrianized shopping street just as the sun was setting and all the street lights were coming on, magical! For anyone who's interested I've worked out how to copy and paste maps on to this site, so I've updated all the previous days travelling if you want to take a look! |
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DAY 6 - FRIDAY 9TH OCTOBER 2015 - MALAGA TO ALGECIRAS ( 87 MILES APPROX)
https://www.google.es/maps/vt/data=R...=1&h=200&w=555 Greetings all I bear good news. My bike is fixed, well sort of! The chain and sprockets have been replaced, brilliant. The oil seal was also done but unfortunately it appears the leak may be coming from the seal right next to the gear shaft that senses when neutral is selected. So I have bought another litre of oil and hope this will see me though the next week or so, fingers and everything else crossed! Thankfully I didn't have to be out of my hotel room until midday so this allowed me time to book my ferry ticket at a nearby travel agent (one less thing to worry about!) for about £60. Worryingly my Santander Zero credit card wouldn't work in the ATM so I thought the logical thing to do was go into a Santander bank after all they are based in Spain! However the branch I went into was a small one with one girl serving a long queue and knowing my midday deadline I went back outside and used my normal Santander debit card instead which, thankfully, worked fine. Back at the hotel they allowed me to store all my luggage and riding kit down in the basement. Back at the bike shop the parts still hadn't arrived, but I was assured they would and the job would be done by the end of the day. So camera in hand I wandered down towards the city centre and came across the official city tour bus. Twenty euros later there I was on the open top bus enjoying the warm Malaga October sunshine and learning all about the city. Factoid: Pablo Picasso was born here! Half way round the trip we alighted from the bus and were taken on a walking tour of the city centre which is all pedestrianized. It was one of those hop on hop off services with buses passing every 20 minutes. So having done one circuit I stayed on board and this time alighted at the old castle high up and overlooking the city. The views were stunning and after some hastily taken pics it was back on board the fun bus to continue my 2nd tour of the town, although this time I did alight early at one of the stops that was closer to the area where I'd stayed the previous night. https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-H...2/IMG_4315.JPG THE DREAM LIVES ON! MY SAVIOURS FROM THE BIKE SHOP! Back at the shop it was now 6pm but there was my bike resplendent in new sprockets, chain and oil seal ! So after parting with another £100 and hastily getting changed back at the hotel I was back on the road heading for Algeciras. However at my next fuel stop, as stated earlier, I realised oil was still dripping and the fuel coming from the breather pipe from the carb is getting worse. I arrived at the hotel Victoria Marina, which was situated immediately adjacent to the port, in darkness. As I couldn't park directly in front of the hotel I rode round into the side street where there was little, if any, street lighting and further along in the gloom I could see a large group of mainly black African looking men. As they heard my engine and saw my headlight they seemed to all stop whatever it was they were doing and look towards me. Thankfully I was able to do a quick 180 and head back past the 'lady of the night' hanging about on the corner, to the bright---ish lights at the front of the hotel. The hotel was a bit seedy with a scruffy greasy haired male receptionist who curtly told me I couldn't leave my bike out the front and that there was a car park down the road for 10 Euros (£8) for one night. I agreed to move it once I'd unloaded my gear. The room,up on the 7th floor, was basic but large and clean. Once sorted I returned to my bike and simply moved it about 15 yards away from the hotel entrance and used my cable lock to secure it to a nearby lampost. It took me a while to drift off thinking about catching the right ferry, being there in plenty of time, complications with the administrations of getting into Morocco, finding a cash machine, purchasing insurance and finding accommodation once there. Not much to worry about then eh?!! |
If you still are in Algeciras tomorrow we can have a beer, if not just enjoy Morocco!!!
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Hi Dave, are you online at the moment. I've just been reading all your news in more depth.
How's it going; where are you now. For some reason I can't seem to see anything after the 7th October? Karen xx |
Yay, all your latest posts have just come through. All sounds brilliant Dave.
Are you enjoying it? It's cold here :-( x x x |
Going by the timing of the last post, 18 hours ago, i'm guessing you must now be in Morocco. Bet it's starting to get hot? x x x
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Just managed to get hooked back on to the internet, so I can continue my story although maybe not with pics as just checked and all the maps and some of the pics don't seem to be coming up:thumbdown: xx |
DAY 7 - SATURDAY 10TH OCTOBER 2015 - ALGECIRAS (SPAIN) TO TETOUAN (MOROCCO)
(APPROX. 70 MILES) https://www.google.co.uk/maps/vt/dat...=1&h=200&w=555 Upon leaving my salubrious abode I was greeted by a more congenial receptionist who nonetheless had still stuck another 7 euros from nowhere on the bill. But being paranoid about getting to the ferry port in plenty of time I couldn't be arsed to argue the toss so I just paid and was glad to saddle up and get going. Five minutes later I was at the port and joined the queue for the Mediterranea giant catamaran. We were due off at 11.30am but because it wasn't a roll-on roll-off ferry the big artics all had to reverse into the cargo hold and one particular lorry seemed to take an eternity. Consequently we finally sailed out of port some time after midday. Soon after sailing past the great rock of Gibraltar it didn't take long for the great continent of Africa to come into view and after about one and a half hours we were docking in Tangier Med. Now this is where the fun and games started! Apparently the Moroccon police come on board to carry out the first passport checks. So initially we were all directed to the middle of the boat, then we were all sent to the front of the ship and finally all herded to the back where 3 plain clothes policemen had miraculously appeared! After about 40 minutes I had my first passport stamp and was riding into freedom at last, WRONG!! We then had to queue at the first set of booths where some more plain clothed police carried out some kind of other check. At this stage I was discreetly and pleadingly asked for 'Une cadeaux s'il vous plait?' (A present please?). I pleaded ignorance and was therefore directed ahead to customs where several other uniformed Keystone Cops seemed to be randomly checking documents and searching what appeared to be mainly Moroccon vans and cars crammed to the gunnels with all manner of household goods including a toilet, it's true! The wait here was interminable! It must have been at least an hour before my documents, including vehicle this time, were checked. Even then I got sent back with my documents to the first set of booths, only to be told by the original cops there that all was in order and I could go back to customs again! After further conflabs about goodness knows what amongst themselves I was finally told to go! Hurrah! Documents safely packed away off I rode only to be stopped a hundred yards later at yet another bloody checkpoint! One final passport check and this time it really was Morocco here I come! After all that the feeling of relief once on the open road was quite euphoric. So with a big smile on my face I headed east with the initial intention of ending up at a town called Chefchhaouen to look for accommodation. First though I needed money and insurance. The former was sorted quickly as the first seaside resort I went through had banks along the seafront. But despite Chris Scott's ( The Moroccon overland guru) assances there were plenty of 'Bureau's d'assurance' along the road, I'm dammed if I could see any! Placing this small problem at the back of my mind I needed to deal with a more pressing problem, oil, or lack of it! So I pulled over and using the litre I had purchased back at the bike shop in Spain I guestimated an amount and continued my journey skimming the edge of the Rif mountains. Certainly along the first 20kms or so from the port the roadside was populated by small groups of very dark skinned African men apparently doing nothing although some did hold there hands out as I went past in a kind of begging gesture. All would become clear later. The first major town I came to was called Tetouan and as I negotiated a busy roundabout looking for signs to Chefchaouen a local biker on an ancient 250 Honda semi-trail bike pulled alongside me and the friendly faced man said, 'Hey I speak English, if you are lost I can help you'! Here we go I though be prepared to be scammed, ripped off or murdered! But I was lost so I pulled over anyway! After various pleasantries he assured me his job was as an official tour guide in Tetouan. So rightly or wrongly I thought let's go with the flow Dave and I asked if he knew of any reasonably priced hotels in the town. ' I show you now, follow me'! So off we went and 10 minutes later we pulled up outside, ironically enough, The Malaga Hotel, situated right in the town centre. In we went and after a short conversation with the receptionist, Mohammed had booked me in and secure parking for the bike for 350 dirhams ( £24). The room was basic but clean and tidy. Mohammed said, Ok so now you shower, change, and I meet you back here in an hour and I show you the Medina, the Palace, the Souk and maybe you want something to eat?!' I dutifully did as I was told and sure enough Mo was waiting for me and off we went all around the market, the alleys,the mosques and sure enough there is a palace there, not as grand as Buckingham, but apparently the king does stay there for a couple of months each year. Apparently Mo reckoned he'd been tour guiding around the town for over 30 years, taking mainly Spanish tourists who nip across like we used to do on the booze cruises to Calais , in order to snap up cheap bargains at the Tetouan market. And in line with his job as a tour guide I was subjected to the carpet salesman and later the exotic herbs, spices and oils man. Those that know me know I keep my wallet more firmly shut than a cell door in Wormwood Scrubs! But going with the flow I ended up buying a delightful silk carpet for £250, having an essential oil massage and buying some fancy nail ointment. So wallet lighter, all relaxed and oiled up we continued our tour finally ending up in a friendly fast food establishment where he left me to enjoy my sheeps heart and chicken kebab! https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-h...2/IMG_4322.JPG MOHAMMED, 'I KNOW EVERYBODY'! What a character Mohammed is! He seemed to know everyone, which he was obviously quite proud of as after exchanging pleasantries with a shop keeper here and a policeman there he would say, 'You see I know everybody'! Before he left I gave him 150 dirhams (about £10) to say thanks as he'd been absolutely brilliant and helpful. However he wasn't finished there! 'Tomorrow, even though it is Sunday and everything is closed I meet you here, I know some people and we get you some insurance so you can continue your journey without possibility of going to prison and having your bike locked away!' GULP!! I never realised it was that serious! I asked about the men along the roadside and apparently Morocco is very much like Serbia, Hungary and Greece are at the moment, with illegal immigrants passing through trying to get into Spain and beyond. The main difference being in Morocco they get absolutely nothing, so they tend to congregate at the roadside, begging in the hope of being given some food and water on their journey before they jump into a dingy to try and cross to Europe. For some reason a lot of my pics and maps seem to have disappeared from the blog at my end,not sure why atm. |
DAY 8 - SUNDAY 11TH OCTOBER 2015 - TETOUAN TO TETOUAN (1 MILE APPROX.)
10am sure enough there was Mohammed in reception beaming smile, but with the news that he was not able to wield enough influence to get an insurance office to open. Mohammed cannot move mountains it appears!! Obviously now worried about the prospect of being locked up I made a decision to stay in Tetouan for another night. However knowing I now had the day and the weather being awful what a great opportunity to get stuck into this blog. Problem, despite assurances their Wi Fi was working I just couldn't get connected. 'Take computer, come with me'! Mohammed commanded so without further ado in the drizzling rain I hopped on the back of his bike, no helmet! 'Don't worry, I am experienced rider and I know all the policemen!' Sure enough the 2 or 3 policemen we did see simply waved us through like a couple of VIP's! We stopped at a local phone shop where they quickly established there was nothing wrong with my laptop. 'Ok so we change hotel and you get wifey!'. So packing up my kit as quick as I could I followed Mohammed to a slightly newer part of town where I booked in at the hotel Panorama, cheaper, quieter and with beautiful views overlooking the northern Rif mountains and the 'WiFey' was working! http://https://lh3.googleusercontent...2/IMG_4349.JPG IT'S NOT CALLED HOTEL PANORAMA FOR NOTHING! His work done for the day Mohammed jumped on his bike before announcing 'Ok I will come back tomorrow morning, 9.30, and I take you to get insurance' What a man!! So having the afternoon free I have managed to do some clothes washing and get this blog up to date. Looking outside there is now a nice warm breeze, my clothes are nearly dry, and the rain has stopped. So I'm off to do some exploring. Laters!! In fact my exploring took the form of a 30 minute jog down into the newer part of the town and finished off with five sets of up and down some steps connecting the road of my hotel to a lower road running parallel. Everywhere I have been in Tetouan so far there are cats, but as yet I haven't seen one dog, strange that! Any theories? Also another factoid; Morocco's population is over 33 million and over half that population is under 20 years of age - a bit scary really! After watching a beautiful sunset from my balcony I walked to another little fast food joint recommended by Mohammed where I had a hot toasted chicken baguette, chips, a kind of spicy chicken samosa/pastie, a drink and some delicious sweet sticky almond cake for afters, two quid the lot, I kid you not!! After I get the insurance sorted tomorrow I'm headin' south towards Fez and wherever the road takes me! |
So your adventure started!
You could get insurance (and cash) at Tanged Med, just after the customs. And please don't pay 350 dh for secure parking, it's usually 10-20 dh, 25 dh is the maximum I paid in Morocco. Don't worry anyway, be ripped off is part of the adventure ^_^. |
OMG Dave, it sounds like Mohammed might have been quite a blessing. So how on earth have you got room for a silk rug on your bike? Karen xx
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Hi Dave,
I'm glad the weather is improving. I know the food is cheap, but have you attempted to buy a beer in the hotel? You might get a shock then ;-) Karen xx |
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You misunderstand me , the room was 325dh and 25dh for the parking! Dave:oops2: |
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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 herebier |
DAY 9 - MON 12TH OCT 2015 - TETOUAN TO FEZ - 170 MILES APPROX
https://www.google.com/maps/vt/data=...=1&h=200&w=555 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. https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4...2/IMG_4364.JPG 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!! |
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Enjoy and keep writing!!! |
Help is on its way
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 :smartass: Lots of love Dan xx |
Ok Dan
Do u want me to text you when I'm next to my laptop tomorrow? xx:thumbup1: |
yes please xx
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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
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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 |
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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. http://https://lh3.googleusercontent...2/IMG_4403.JPG 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!! https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-D...5B1%25255D.JPG 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 :rofl:
Have a great time Wayne |
Great reports Smudger; looking forward to the pictures
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I'm glad you're enjoying it. Don't get too cold around the Balkans, it could be very painful!! Dave (Smudger) |
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Dave (smudger) |
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sorry I haven't been in contact. Tony & I have enjoyed:thumbup1: reading your blog. It sounds like you're having a real adventure. BTW everything's fine at your house, & Dad sends his love, Love Helen |
Makes you count your blessings! Imagine how awful it would be in the heat of the summer; it was 57 degrees when I was in Marrakesh a couple of years ago!! Karen x
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Another DRZ rider
Enjoying your ride report Smudger, especially as we are both on the same make and model of ride.
I'm heading in the same general direction but have a long way to go, presently in Georgia getting cold and wet while I wait for my wife to fly over for a visit. Off to Turkey at the end of the month and then heading to wherever I can find warmth and heat. I'll use you report for reference later on so feel free to put in GPS coordinates for any places you think particularly interesting or important. Looking forward to the rest of the report. |
DAY 11 - WEDNESDAY 14TH OCT 2015 - FEZ TO ER RACHIDIA (215 MILES APPROX)
https://www.google.com/maps/vt/data=...=1&h=200&w=555 The staff being so laid back at my hotel, breakfast didn't materialize until about 8.30am even though I'd been sat there since 8am! But I was feeling so relaxed I didn't mind, it just meant I didn't get away until 10.30am. Even with my trusty sat nav and Olafs map I still managed to go wrong 2 or 3 times before finally getting on the N8 and heading due south. The vast plains stretching in front of me as far as the eye could see. Now I know what they mean when they say, 'Big sky!!' But as Azrou approached that began to change as the Middle Atlas mountains came into view and before long we were climbing, 2,000 feet, 3000, 4,000 past Ben Nevis, ,5000 feet and more! Once at this altitude so we remained obviously riding across a vast plateau with yet still higher mountains either side of me. With the change in air pressure and because I had my earplugs in my ears began to ache unable to equalize the pressure either side of my ear drum. Also the temperature plummeted so about midday I took a well earned coffee break at a petrol service station where I was able to add another layer of clothing and allow my ears to adjust properly to the drop in air pressure. Also a quick check of the bike revealed Fahd was correct and my bike was indeed '100% fixed Mr. David!' I set off again now surrounded by a cedar wood forest and after a short while I saw a triangular warning sign, not with a deer silhouette, no, a monkey silhouette! And sure enough about a kilometre later there was a layby with a few tourists. men offering horse rides and sure enough about a dozen or so macaque monkeys hanging around (I know that's what monkeys normally do, but I meant metaphorically as in fact they were mostly sitting and walking about!) hoping for any tidbits the tourists would throw their way. A few pics and i was off again gradually dropping down to another huge plain which seemed to go on forever, but once more looming on the horizon, more mountains, this time the High Atlas Mountains, as if the last lot weren't high enough!! Not that I was complaining as all the mountain scenery was gob smackingly breath taking! https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-2...5B1%25255D.JPG HIGH ATLAS MOUNTAINS DRIFTER! It was like deja vu as up we went again, this time even higher to over six and half thousand feet and at around that altitude we remained for another hour or so as me and Suzi made our way to the Ziz river valley gorge, our escape route back down to a sensible altitude, passing a massive reservoir where the Ziz had been dammed at the southern end. Finally I dropped down into Ar Rachidia, my chosen destination as it seemed a good place to base myself to strike and try one or two of these dirt trails that Chris Scott eulogizes about. Before I came out here I'd made up my mind I was going to try and get one basic hotel for under a tenner. Well here it was! The Milano! Situated on the noisy main thoroughfare through the town I had to climb a set of steps past a broken window! The staff, respectable looking and polite, and they almost looked embarrassed as they showed me the room up some dingy stairs to the third floor. OK so the toilet seat was broken, the flush didn't work, but bucket was provided to be fair! I had to ask for toilet roll and a towel' but no soap I'm afraid, and it looked as if the windows hadn't been cleaned for about 5 years. 'Combien?' I asked. 'One hundred twenty dirhams' (£8 ). 'Do you have internet?' They did. 'I'll take it then'. They looked really quite shocked as I handed over my passport for the necessaries! Once I'd hauled all my gear up three sets of stairs (no lift obviously!) and got changed I surveyed my desirable residence more closely. I went to check under the blanket for the state of the sheets; there weren't any! Just another blanket to go on top of the blanket I was expected to sleep on!! Also the longer I remained in the room the more I was sure I could smell that well known perfume, Eau De Urine! I ventured out to get a bite to eat and was once more pounced upon by a 'Friend', who insisted on sharing his mint tea and crepe with me before suggesting all sorts of tours he could arrange for me down in Merzouga, but by now I'd had enough of all these fixers even though the last two had been worth their weight in gold. So this time I politely refused and instead of it costing the tourist money I'm afraid on this occasion it cost the local money. I wonder how I'll sleep tonight?!! |
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It's certainly an experience!!! I can't believe even complete strangers are also reading and enjoying the blog. Love to all xx |
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Thanks for your kind words. I'm afraid I'm not very good with sat nav but if can find co ordinates of somewhere particularly good will make a note. I'm growing to love my bike despite the tribulations! However when I get back I simply must do something to improve the seat comfort. Do you have any suggestions? Dave |
Hi Dave,
Really enjoying the blog and looking forward to each day's installment. I had a crazy idea of flying out to Marrakesh to see you for a day or two, but sadly I don't think it will work out, especially as i've no idea when you'll be arriving there etc. I would just be sunning myself in an all inclusive 5 Star and you could come and join me for a well deserved rest for your bum!! Hope you survive the hotel; sounds disgusting :-( x x x |
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Probably not going to Marrakesh now anyway! Have made other plans. Glad you're liking the instalments:mchappy: xx |
DAY 12 THUR 15TH OCT 2015 - ERRACHIDIA TO IMILCHIL - (137 miles approx)
https://www.google.com/maps/vt/data=...=1&h=200&w=555 I have to admit that I didn't sleep very well. Whether it was the thought of when or if the blankets I was sleeping between were last washed or was it because I had one of those nights where I had to get up about 4 times for the loo? I could understand it if I'd had 4 or 5 pints but I only had a small bottle of water with my meal last night? Also I had to employ the ear plugs again, this time because of the lorries thundering away from the traffic lights outside the hovel, I mean hotel, every couple of minutes until the early hours! Anyway I didn't need the alarm to get me up especially with the bright morning sun streaming past my half a ragged curtain! So wanting to be out there asap I got ready in double quick time and was good to go just after 9.30am, that's a record for me so far on this trip! I made bit of a faux pas yesterday as the starting point for my back road adventure today was over 40 miles back down the road I had travelled yesterday! Doh!! And of course I did my usual shenanigans of going the wrong way for 10 minutes before realising I was heading in totally the wrong direction (saved by the sat nav again!). So after doing a quick 180 and getting back into Errachidia I was soon on the road back to Er Rich, the town where the back roads started. As I rode along I began to doubt my off road capabilities and had visions of crashing and/or getting lost in the mountains. So upon arrival at Er Rich I decided to take stock and try and formulate a plan. So I parked up outside a cafe right by the main bus station and became the centre of attention as kids and several grown ups flocked around the bike to take a closer look .Meanwhile I tucked into an omelette and coffee, pouring over Chris Scott's book and my Michelin map. As I came into town I'd seen a sign post for Imilchil , which I remembered reading in my book that it was a village on the route and there was accommodation there, so I thought if there's a sign for it, there's accommodation there, cars and lorries can get to it ok so therefore I should easily manage on the trail bike. Brunch consumed, decision made I was off, heading due west right into the very heart of the High Atlas mountains! And it was brilliant! There wasn't a cloud in the sky, the road, certainly for the first 20kms or so was flat and well tarmacked. With hardly any other road users I really felt on top of the world and for no apparent reason a great big fat grin broke out across my face and at the top of my voice I shouted, 'Yeee Haaa! This is what it's all about!' But the elation gradually subsided and I had to increase my concentration levels as the road began it's relentlessly sinuous rise from the plateau following the course of the River Ziz upstream. In parts the road was good, but there were also many bits where a lot of the surface had crumbled away or become heavily potholed. On many of the bends there was loose rubble and dust so extra caution was required, especially when the odd lorry, car or mule would appear from the opposite direction on the wrong side of the road. I did lose grip a couple of times, but nothing that made my heart leap too much! And beyond a particular junction the traffic increased and I kept getting stuck behind various ancient cars and lorries belching out black diesel fumes and/or throwing up all that dust from the bends causing me to drop right back just so that I could see properly and get a clear run and make an overtake. Every 25kms or so a little hamlet would appear where the vast majority of the buildings were constructed of mud apart from, of course, the mosques most of which appeared very recently built and constructed of concrete and brick. At one stage I stopped the bike, took my empty plastic water bottle, which funnily enough had 'Atlas Mineral Water' on the label, walked down to the wide mountain stream and filled up. It tasted lovely and of course it was totally genuine and authentic! https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-N...2/IMG_4438.JPG THIS IS WHAT I NEED UNDER MY SADDLE SORE BUM AT THE MOMENT! I finally rolled into Imilchil about 3.15pm, 7,350 feet above sea level according to my sat nav! I drove through the village scanning the hotels as I did so, also coming across a petrol station, which was handy as I really thought I was going to have to use the 5 litres I,ve had strapped to the back of my bike for the last week and a half! I settled on the Chez Bassou. Spotlessly clean, modern, evening meal and breakfast, all for 250 dirhams (£18). Having arrived relatively early I took the opportunity to wash my smalls and use the washing line up on the roof of the hotel. After a couple of hours sunbathing on their terrace I thought I'd better do a run. No more than 8 minutes up the road and I was knackered, so I about turned and wheezed my way back to the hotel. Feeling quite depressed about my performance , or lack of it, I then suddenly realised at seven and half thousand feet it was hardly surprising my lungs felt like a couple of semi-deflated party balloons! Had a lovely hot shower which was just as well, because as the sun went down so did the temperature of the hotel and there is no heating in the rooms and it appears that the antiquated looking boiler situated in the middle of the modern lounge is only for the open areas of the hotel and apparently will not be lit until winter arrives here properly! Good job we have extra blankets!! Had a lovely 3 course meal this evening including a beef tajine and veg, delicious! |
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DAY 13 - FRIDAY 16TH OCT 2015 - IMILCHIL TO IMICHIL - 65 MILES APPROX
I forgot to mention that late afternoon I got chatting to a Canadian couple at the hotel and the fella asked if I was here for the big festival! 'What festival?' I replied. He then enthusiastically told me that it was the first day of a 3 day festival where all the local people come together so that eligible bachelors and young ladies can see who's on the market, so to speak and apparently decisions are made and over the next couple of days around 30 marriages take place! But more than that it was a market and simply a spectacle to behold. So although I had originally intended to move on I decided to stay another day and go see for myself what the fuss was all about. After riding 20kms south the road became extremely congested and flag poles appeared each side of the road proudly bearing the red Moroccan flag. After inching my way through the mayhem of people,cars, trucks,animals and other motorbikes I found a place to park and went for a nosey! Within 10 minutes I was accosted by a 'friend'. This one was called Khalid, a pleasant, not too pushy 23 year old from the local village a couple of kms down the road. I was ushered into a a kind of low slung home made gazebo type affair with blankets for a roof and a patchwork of berber patterned rugs on the floor and the old boy looking after the tent disappeared somewhere to get the mint tea sorted. Khalid told me he spent most of the year drifting around Morocco looking for any work, but always returned at this time of the year as it was the highlight of the year for all the locals. As it was such a scattered community, the matchmaking festival was actually bit of a necessity as was the market, because it was basically the last opportunity for the locals to get what they needed before the sometimes harsh winters set in and if it snows whole communities get cut off for weeks on end! Also he explained if it was a particularly wet winter then whole houses get washed away as they are basically made of mud with no foundations as such. https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-u...5B1%25255D.JPG Following elevensies Moroccan style I was shown round the market although no marriage ceremonies were in evidence at that time. Needless to say everything was available to buy, from a second hand hinge to stout looking mules and everything in between. The Canadian chap said,' Hey there's so much goin' on you could spend all day there!' But after a couple of hours I'd had enough, so after Khalid had taken a few pics of me in the market and I gave him a tip for being my guide I decided to go off exploring on my own on the bike. Heading further south I started to rise up even further until the contours on my sat nav were showing well over 8,500 feet and despite the sun, there was now quite a chill in the air. Just as I'd made a decision to turn back, an incredible view opened up in front of down into what I can only guess the Grand Canyon must look something like with a river snaking through the valley at the bottom and a mountain on the other side that must have been well over 10,000 feet! I stopped the bike, walked down the slope until I came to the edge of a steep precipice that plunged down into the canyon and there I sat for about 10 minutes taking in the awesome view! https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-9...5B1%25255D.JPG MOROCCO'S ANSWER TO THE GRAND CANYON! Back on the bike I started to head back towards my hotel but not before taking a detour along one of the pistes (proper dirt roads) that Chris Scott talks about in his guide. I only ventured along it for a couple of kms or so before turning round, but had I chosen to go on I wouldn't have seen tarmac for another 30 miles or so! I had to fight my way back through the crowds at the festival before emerging unscathed the other side and travel back to my chilly hotel. Which reminds me, it was an amusing and strange spectacle last night as everyone settled down for the evening meal dressed in fleeces, coats, heavy jumpers and one young lady even had her hood up whilst eating! Also I'd got chilled to the bone earlier before the meal sitting still for too long doing this blog and had to go to bed initially wearing my thermal vest, long johns and socks! |
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Thanks for the recommendation. I saw them on e bay but the idea seemed so basic that it couldn't possibly work! Doesn't the sheepskin become sodden when it rains? And where do you get them? Don't say from a sheep!!:clap: |
Sheepskin
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Sheepskin. Where I'm sitting stays dry and I take it off and give it a good shake to get rid of water. The wool still has plenty of lanolin in it and it naturally sheds water easily enough. I bought mine in Australia but I've seen others using what they could pick up locally in Mongolia and Central Asia so I reckon you should be able to find one in Morocco, although you might need to shampoo it first. Also good when camping to just throw on the ground for something sort of clean to sit on. |
DAY 14 - SAT 17TH OCT 2015 - IMILCHIL TO OUARZAZATE - (180 MILES APPROX)https://www.google.com/maps/vt/data=...=1&h=200&w=555
Well I really wasn't expecting to be heading further south! my original 'on the hoof' plan was to start heading north-eastwards again with an overnight stay inland before heading for the Atlantic coastal resort of El Jadida and spending 2 or 3 nights there to just to do the usual touristy things i.e. relax, sunbathe and swim But whilst doing my blog yesterday I checked out the weather for El Jadida and for the time that I would be there it was rubbish! In addition after sampling the piste yesterday and telling all my friends back home that I was going to be riding the dirt roads of Morocco I felt both a need and an obligation to do it properly! In addition I checked the forecast further south and it was much better. So even after consuming another hotel breakfast I still managed to break my record and get on the road for 9.15am! A top up with fuel at the local Afrique petrol station and like the other day I retraced my steps of yesterday once more battling through the crowds at the marriage/market festival and another 8 miles further down the road a right turn and I was back on the loose stuff. As I followed the track I just kept a steady pace, probably averaging no more than 10 mph. In fact it was probably less than that as I kept seeing such great scenery I had to keep stopping to take pics! Occasionally a pick up or a van with good ground clearance would come the other way but basically I was on my own. I felt like a proper explorer boldly going where no man, well maybe a few, had gone before! And the higher I went, 8,000 feet, 8,500 feet, 9,000 feet the more of a super hero I became until I reached the pass at about 9,200 feet and there parked up were 5 or 6 locals with there bog standard road going chinese import Skygo 100cc's and Lexmoto 125 cc's! https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-a...5B1%25255D.JPG THE 9,000 FEET HIGH CLUB! MY NEW MOROCCAN BIKING BUDDIES! Well that was my bubble well and truly burst! Anyway I stopped to ask them to take a couple of snaps, which they duly did. They were all so friendly even asking me to come to lunch, where on earth that would be up here god only knows! And my bubble was well and truly punctured when I saw a couple of mountain bikers carrying all their kit pedalling along the track! And as I cracked on the bikers suggestion didn't seem quite so outlandish for even right the way up here there were people somehow eking out a living mostly through farming but i presume some the peasants had become more entrepreneurial and opened up as a cafe/auberge. As I went along mile after mile new vistas were constantly opening up in front of me requiring a stop for some more photographs. I came round one bend to be confronted by a great big digger type thing straddling the whole width of the track trying to repair a bit of the road that had obviously recently subsided. For a moment I thought I was going to have to turn around and travel back 2 hours to get back on the main road! But these guys had it well rehearsed. He simply retracted his wide stabilising feet, drove forward into a tiny lay-by, in order to allow me past. How a car would get past I daren't think! At last I started to descend at first gradually and then via a series of switchback bends, all on gravel, but I just took it nice and steady. By the way the bike is now performing perfectly, no leaks, all the luggage and everything I strap it to is all staying screwed together and tightly strapped on, despite taking a real hammering today. Finally after about 30 miles the gravel finally gave way to tarmac and I was able to push on a little, but still being wary as every so often there would be a patch of unmade or unrepaired road, quite often through the centre of the little villages I was now passing through. I've just thought of an idea, we could save millions in our towns and cities by employing a similar tactic. Allow the roads to fall in disrepair and hey presto no requirement for sleeping policemen or other expensive speed reducing road furniture! Sorry, I digress; once more the road went into switchback mode and as the walls of rock around me became steeper and steeper I knew I was entering the upper end of the Dades Gorge, like Cheddar but about twice the height and five times the length! Several stops and pics later the scenery at last began to give my senses a rest a until I knew the show was finally over and I emerged on the main road for Ouarzazate where I had my first 'heart in the mouth' riding moment. From nowhere a cat decided to use up one of it's 9 lives by running out in front of me. I missed it by inches! And the next was a 'slow motion but you can't do anything about it' moments. I'd just ridden into Ouarzazate and was riding slowly along the main street looking out for a hotel following a pick up truck which stopped in front of me. No problem, I took a trajectory to ride round him but he suddenly decided to reverse causing me to have to turn really sharply to the left. I managed to avoid him although the rear offside of his truck did brush fairly heavily with my nearside pannier. Thank god I had soft luggage, no damage done. Hard luggage could've been a whole different story. So here I am in the hotel Royal in Ouarzazate. Royal it certainly ain't! I'm afraid it's another 100 dirham job. However this place although basic it appears clean and does have sheets! When inspecting the bathroom there was a fairly pronounced sewer smell wafting up from the shower drain, but then I noticed a cheap aluminium ash tray in there as well, which fitted perfectly over the shower drain, sorted!! The street at the back of my hotel housed all the main shops, market stalls and restaurants, so in the evening I took a stroll and settled for a tuna pizza and big bottle of spring water, all for just over £2. Back at the hotel I was starting to feel a bit squiffy as I think something in the couscous the previous night was playing havoc with my guts! So I took a couple of paracetamol went to bed and prayed I wasn't going down with something. |
DAY 15 - SUN 18TH OCT 2015 - OUARZAZATE TO MARRAKESH (125 MILES APPROX)https://www.google.com/maps/vt/data=...=1&h=200&w=555
So I guess you've all got two burning questions? Firstly I wonder how he's feeling this morning? Well I'm pleased to report that whatever it was has now safely passed through and I'm feeling much better thankyou! And secondly you must be thinking 'What's the plan Stan?' Well having travelled as far south as I reasonably can in the time available I had to start heading northwards again and as Marrekesh is directly north west it would be silly to miss it. I may stay a couple of nights but more than likely I'm going to continue north west to the Atlantic coast and then make my way back up to Tangier Med and be ready to sail on thursday morning. That will then give me thursday afternnon, friday, saturday and sunday morning to get to Santander in the north of Spain for my afternoon sailing. Anyway back to today, having not bothered with breakfast I was away by 8.30am and I didn't even go wrong with my initial way finding, mind you there was only one main street into and out of town! It was another sparkling day but as I new I had to go back across the High Atlas mountain range I still made a point of wrapping up quite warm as I was heading back up into the stratosphere once more! Just another observation about Morocco; I get the feeling they've only just introduced traffic lights on their roads because when you pull up to them in the bright sun they're just not bright enough and if you actually pull up to the indicated stop line on the road you've actually gone past the traffic lights!! Needless to say driving through the mountains brought yet more stunning scenery and to make things more interesting they are in the process of upgrading a 4 or 5 mile stretch which involved some, shall we say, 'interesting' contraflows, sign posting and men waving red flags everywhere directing traffic. There were earth movers everywhere and one particular huge CAT digger seemed to be defying the laws of gravity as it clung on to an incline, well, like a cat! Put it this way, if Mr. Health and Safety was there from UK Highways department the whole operation would have been closed down immediately!! https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-h...5B1%25255D.JPG 'DON'T YOU KNOW WE'RE RIDING ON THE MARRAKESH EXPRESS?' Finally the mountains were left behind and the riding was a more relaxing proposition. Also being that much lower and now into the afternoon the temperature had shot up and by the time I hit Marrakesh it must have been 80 degrees F. Despite having removed my fleece earlier, in my leathers I was still boiling up and although I had earlier drawn up a short list of hotels in the Medina, that plan went out the window when a local told me there was no parking at all in the Medina, so for a few dirhams he directed me to the nearby Grand Tazi hotel where I was able initially to park right outside in order to unload. I then had to take the bike to their secure underground car park. Again the room is basic, but clean and even though it's only a stones throw from the main square (Place Jemaa El Fna) in the city it's got a swimming pool. Once all booked in, and having missed a couple of my routine swims back home,the first thing I did was get my cozzie on and do 30 minutes of crawl. I had the whole pool area to myself so once finished I just laid back and sunbathed for half an hour or so thinking of you poor damp sods back in the UK! After changing I walked the couple of hundred yards to Jemaa El Fna and just had a meander up to the huge city mosque, bought a few fridge magnets from one of the side street souvenir shops for family back home, well on a bike you can't fit anything much bigger on, can you? In the evening I wandered again down to the square and sat in one of the hundreds of eateries that get set up in the square each evening. For my meal last night in Ouarzazate I paid about £2.50. Tonight I paid £10. That's tourist prices for you!! |
Hi Smudger,
I'm really enjoying your blogs and eagerly look forward to readng the next evenings installment. Morocco's a great country to travel on a bike and glad to hear you're enjoying yourself. I'm sure your TVAM training has helped at times!....I'm an ex member with the group. Can't wait for my next trip there early next year. |
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Thanks for your flattering words and glad you're enjoying my travel story! I presume you've been before? Dave |
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Hope your travels are going well. Are you doing a blog by the way? Also I meant to ask if you carry fuel using your sweetcheeks what containers do you use as I thought the normal fizzy drinks/water bottles melted when petrol is put in them? |
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I used two 1.5 ltr pop bottles when I did my trip in Thailand and Laos last year, I never had a problem with then, but make sure to get the ones with the better screw lid https://farm9.staticflickr.com/8583/...981ddac8_c.jpgIMG_1467 by Wayne 66, on Flickr PS it is still persisting it down in Slovenia, hope you have better weather haha Wayne |
DAY 16 - MON 19TH OCT 2015 - MARRAKESH TO EL JADIDA - 125 MILES APPROX.
https://www.google.com/maps/vt/data=...=1&h=200&w=555 I'm afraid it's bad news, or potentially bad news. My case of the 'screaming ab dabs' has returned with a vengeance! I was up at least three times last night being thankful I was close to a toilet! Out on the road I won't have this luxury! The good news is I'm still feeling ok and still have my appetite so I was still able to enjoy a hotel breakfast, limited as it was to bread, butter, jam and coffee. I had paid extra for this, had I known this was all I was getting I wouldn't have bothered; tourist prices again I guess! I remember the last time I had a case of the 'trots' I was in Egypt where I left it and left it, thinking it would clear up by itself and in the end I was so weak and dehydrated I could hardly get out of bed. In the end I had to have a doctor called out to me who hooked me up to a salt drip containing various anti-spasmodics and anti-biotics. It certainly did the trick. Within 2 or 3 hours I was up and in the swimming pool! So it's just gone 9am and I'm off to the pharmacist to get myself some drugs! 'Diarrhoea', I repeated, but the bearded wise man in a white doctors coat looked at me blankly. Not wanting to point to my bottom and start doing charades of me squatting down onto an imaginary loo I pointed instead at my tummy, rubbed it in a circular motion and made a pained look on my face. Immediately his face lit up and with a knowing smile and handed me a little box with loads of arabic hieroglyphics on it. I also managed to establish it was the usual,'take 2 three times a day'. Medication taken I was in no hurry to move on so I took a barely luke warm shower, packed , loaded and was good to go for about 11am. Despite being in one of the busiest ( and beepiest - in my whole time in Morocco I haven't come across anywhere as horn happy as in Marrakesh. As soon as the lights turn green if you don't react with the reflexes of Lewis Hamilton they're tooting like mad for you to get going!!) cities in Morocco, I managed to escape the metropolis without going wrong once! My journey started pleasantly enough as I continued my journey north west, warm sunshine and a pleasant breeze coming all the way from the Atlantic some 60 miles away on my left. But as I approached a small group of hills on the horizon I could see that beyond them the sky looked dark and foreboding. Sure enough as I started to come back down on to the pan-flat plain on the other side the rain started. So for the first time since France I had to get the waterproofs on. The rain I could cope with but the cross wind increased five fold and so with vision impaired by the horizontal rain coming in from my side and having to lean the bike to my left to compensate was pretty scary, especially when occasionally the wind would suddenly ease briefly and I found myself lurching to the centre of the road towards oncoming traffic! But even more frightening was when the big forty tonners came past from the opposite direction. It felt as if the whole bike was being side-swiped by a one second hurricane, almost lifting it off the tarmac and plonking it back down again. In the end I was moving as far to the right as possible and slowing right down every time one approached. Mercifully within about 20 miles of El Jadida the wind began to ease and the rain stopped. As I came into the town god decided to throw one more brief but heavy shower onto me, but by the time I reached the coast line it had passed and the sun was peeping through again. I rode for a while along the beach promenade road until I saw a sign for Hotel Yahia. Laying some 400 yards back from the coast it was very reasonably priced, modern, quiet and clean with underground parking to keep the bike safe. I think the Immodium (or whatever it was) was starting to work it's magic as I felt well enough to go out for a run initially to the beach front and turn left and head for the old town itself. I retraced my steps back to the hotel and on the spur of the moment I put my swimming costume on under my shorts and returned to the beach. If you had kids what a great beach, lovely yellow sand and shallow for miles out. I saw a young man sitting alone enjoying music on his phone. I politely interrupted his solitude asking him to take a couple of pics with my camera and then keep an eye on my stuff whilst I went for a quick dip. The tide was quite a way out so I just jogged and jogged towards the water until I had to dive into an oncoming breaking wave. Refreshing, invigorating, the water not being Med warm, but certainly not the testicle-inverting temperature of Hayling Island in the middle of summer! I swam out for about 200 yards and could still stand up! Being aware the lad was doing me a favour I made my way back to the beach. I thanked him and we started chatting a bit in my pigeon french and some in his pigeon English. His name was Anass and if he ever comes to the UK he will have to change his name! I was allowed one of his earphones and unlike all the middle eastern music I'd been subjected to over the last couple of weeks it was great to listen to a selection of his tunes, nearly all western music. In the end he asked if we could be friends on Facebook and didn't even want any dirhams for the pics taken or giving me his time and his earphone! https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-w...5B2%25255D.JPG Some would say, 'That's an awful long way to travel on a motorbike for a swim in the Moroccan sea Dave' But as they say, 'it's not about the destination but the journey'! A bit like life really. |
Get well soon Dave.
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Kicking back in Georgia
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Sorry to read about your stomach problems mate, make sure you stay hydrated and get some lemonade into you. The sugar helps with energy. |
Hi Dave,
Hope you're feeling better after your trip to the pharmacy. All's well here, we've read Dad your blog & he really enjoyed it. Tony said do you know Reading won at the weekend 1-0 against Charlton & they're second in the league.Rugby World Cup all the northern hemisphere sides are out. Look after yourself, love Helen |
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Already feeling much better thanks:thumbup1: |
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Feeling much better now after taking drugs! Great news about Reading thanks. Heading north again tomorrow:thumbup1: xx |
Thanks Rob
Will look you up on FB when I get home. What's RR? |
Hi Wayne
Nice to hear from you again! What do you do to keep your bum from being split in half by the moto cross type saddle? |
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Hope you are feeling a bit better? I use this and it is doing the business http://www.horizonsunlimited.com/hub...-seating-83784 Wayne |
Hope you are feeling better
Hi Dad,
Liss and I have both emailed you, not sure weather you got it or not. If you can try and get that working again. Hope you are well. Maybe we could organise a Skype session this week at sometime. Lots of love Dan & Liss xx |
DAY 17 - TUE 20TH OCT 2015 - EL JADIDA TO ASILAH - 250 MILES APPROX.
https://www.google.com/maps/vt/data=...=1&h=200&w=555 How did the Imams call everyone to prayer before electricity and speakers came along? It's something I began thinking about this morning. I'd set my alarm on the phone for 7.15am, but I don't know why I bothered as a dog began yapping at about 6am, then a cock began crowing about 6.30am and just before 7 the the nearby mosque began blaring out. The Imam would start at a low level growl building to a high pitched crescendo before dropping back down to a low pitch and building once more, like a car accelerating and changing gear, except this car had about 50 gears! Anyway answers on a postcard please! I'm pleased to report all is 'quiet on the western front' in the bowel department, but will still take a couple more tabs to be on the safe side! Breakfast was a real treat this morning, not only the bread and jam, but a fried egg as well! I took my time getting loaded up so didn't hit the road until about 10.30am. Another beautiful warm day with just a few clouds to break up the blue sky. I assume it's the same with other bikers, but when you set off on any journey and the weather is like today it just puts an extra spring in your suspension and the meaning of joy and life in general becomes a lot clearer! My plan was to head up the coast and at least get to a place called Kenitra, just beyond Morocco's capital, Rabat. My plan was to stay off the toll roads which worked swimmingly until I reached Casablanca. I rode through the city on what seemed to be their equivalent of Reading's Inner Distribution Road, and although a really busy 6 lane carriageway things were moving along really well. Then I realised why. I'd inadvertently ridden onto the toll road! No big shakes I cleared the outskirts of the country's biggest city( about 3.5 million if you're interested) paid the toll and slipped back onto the N1 (A Road equivalent). Being near the coast the ribbon development was extremely evident and really slowed me down due to the sheer amount of traffic, roundabouts, junctions and traffic lights. And the weather which had been my friend earlier was now becoming a little too hot and by the time I'd battled through Rabat (their second biggest city) I'd made two decisions. Firstly to go beyond Kenitra and aim for a place called Asilah and secondly to get back on the motorway to do some mile munching. Now I find when in a car on the motorway you tend to just settle down comfortably put the stereo on, switch off and before you know it you're at your exit and off you go. On a bike you have to remain concentrated and with no in-car entertainment or anyone to chat to you end up thinking about your aches and pains. And on my bike it quite literally is a pain in the arse. As I think I may have mentioned earlier the seat on my bike is like perching on a piece of forbytwo and although I have bought a beany bag thing it has made little,if any, difference. In fact it must be quite strange coming up behind me if you're in a car as you will see a man who is maybe disabled in some way as he wonkily perches on the saddle with all his weight on the back of his left thigh and his whole right side is hanging off the right side of the bike, and when viewed a few miles later has apparently got ants in his pants, or feels the need stand up straight on the foot rests at sixty miles an hour, sit down and repeat 4 or 5 times, or a right leg comes out to the side, followed by the left leg, 'and we do the okey cokey and we turn around'! Anyway I think you get the picture! But not this motorway, oh no, it was entertainment all the way! For the first 10 miles there were men all along the hard shoulder selling what appeared to be walnuts which had obviously been scrumped from all the trees lining that part of the motorway. Then every so often a local would just pop out from the hedgerow and amble across the carriagewy. Then there were women in between the crash barriers in the central reservation harvesting whatever was on the shrubs growing there! A dog taking a crap right by the hard shoulder! A police biker hurtling past me, obviously to deal with the great big piece of delaminated lorry tyre in the nearside carriageway just ahead, oh no, he had a far more important job further up the road. For further up the road was a broken down car on the hard shoulder already being dealt with by the local bobby, so like the women, he also thought he'd stand in the central reservation, but unlike them, he wasn't doing anything useful! And I had another chuckle when I pulled in at a service station and there were three police bikes parked outside the entrance one of which was in a disabled bay! https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-h...5B1%25255D.JPG THE BOYS IN BLUE SETTING A FINE EXAMPLE As I headed further north I could see black clouds ahead and although I very nearly had to resort to the waterproofs, a rainbow appeared ahead and the skies gradually cleared and by the time I reached the my exit the rain had stopped. The man at the toll booth charged me £4 which for well over a hundred miles of motorway I thought was very reasonable. Asilah, what can I say about Asilah? Basically it's a little gem! As I rode in it felt different straight away, tidier, cleaner, dare I say, a little more westernized? I initially stopped in a little street on the outskirts to check out any recommended hotels in my Rough Guide To Morocco ( a bit of a bulky paperback to be carrying on a bike but as my trip as gone on I've found a lot of useful info. in it). In the 'Basic' category it mentioned Belle Vue and I'd seen a sign for it back along the way. So I turned round and after a couple of minutes I turned along a quiet side street and there was this little 'Oasis' of place differentiated from all the other properties by the profusion of large plant pots outside and a lovely tree bearing beautiful blue flowers. As I took my ear plugs out I was greeted by a lovely cacophony of birdsong. There was no one in reception but I could see a figure laying on the settee in the gloom at the back of the lounge. So I called out and the figure emerged from his slumber and stumbled towards me still half asleep from his late afternoon siesta. Moustapha, the hotel owner,was a slightly built impish little fella and when he finally came to we did a little friendly haggling and as I had indicated I wished to stay 2 nights instead of one I manged to get the price down from 500 to 400 dirhams (£28) for both nights. He gave me a delightful little room up on the second floor with a balcony overlooking the street. The room, a bit like the hotel was a little quirky in that initially I didn't think there was an en- suite.But upon opening one of the doors to the wardrobe, it was in fact the entrance to the toilet and shower! Once changed I went back down to move my bike as Moustapha insisted I should put it right outside the hotel entrance so it would remain safe.I then asked if he would take a pic of me and the bike. I honestly got the feeling he'd never taken a picture before as I carefully explained about operating the camera. In the end I heard a click of the shutter and when I showed him the picture he had taken he seemed genuinely chuffed to bits that he had achieved such a feat! I then did a selfie with both of us and he seemed just as gleeful about that as well. I then took a 2 minute stroll down to the seafront and then the 1km walk out on the sea wall protecting the large harbour area. As it was now around 6.30pm the sun was just starting to set. Because there was a strip of cloud above the western horizon firstly the sun sank through that causing all sorts of beautiful shades at the other surrounding clouds and then as it emerged again from the bottom, just before sinking into the Atlantic a whole new array of colours were projected across the waves and into the sky. I don't know about you but do you ever get those times when everything just fally into line and a lovely feeling of true peace and contentment descends upon you. That's how I felt! Too soon though the sun had completed it'sfree light show and I made my way back to the town for a pleasant meatball tajine in one of the restaurants near my hotel. Sorry for the long blog today, but I have had a really great day! No riding tomorrow, just relaxing and exploring! |
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DAY 18 WED 21ST OCT 2015 - ASILAH
Well this mornings wake up call from the local Imam was certainly a lot more tuneful than the guy in El Jadida, almost melodic actually! Slight downer; I had to employ the ear plugs last night as it sounded like there was some kind of domestic dispute going on down the street somewhere and the only thing I had to overcome then was the thickness of my mattress, or lack of, and the fact it was resting on a solid base. I kept telling myself it would be good for my bad back and eventually I did drift off. Knowing I had the whole day I took my time getting dressed. I drifted downstairs and ventured all of twenty yards to a tiny little cafe next door where I had a simple breakfast of bread, jam, plain omelette and a cup of coffee which set me up for a stroll around the Medina which was a much further 2 minutes away! While no where near as big or impressive as those that I visited in Tetuane and Fez it made up for in it's location by the sea and the way the houses are brightly painted in a kind of Greek style I guess, and every so often you'd come across a gaily painted mural on one of the whitewashed walls. https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Q...5B1%25255D.JPG One vendor lured me into his linen store trying to sell me a some kind of cotton blanket or other, but when he realised I wasn't really interested we got chatting and I mentioned how much I loved Asilah and wondered how much property was going for in the area. He seemed to think a really nice spacious one bedroom apartment in the town would go for about 40 thousand euros which I think is about £30,000. I felt quite tempted but my reservations with what's going on in the region not a million miles away and even though it is a moderate muslim country with a fledgling democracy of sorts, there is a massive young population many without proper work and not much hope and unfortunately that breeds discontent. I really hope I'm wrong. Enough of my pessimistic side, I returned to the hotel at lunchtime, slung on my kit and although the temperature was around 75 degrees F, like 'Mad dogs and Englishmen', off I went,'Into the midday sun' running for north out of the town along the beautiful wide sandy beach which apparently stretches most of the way to Tangier. I didn't reach Tangier opting to turn back after 25 minutes. A quick turnaround at the hotel and I was back on the beach this time with trunks and towel. Unlike El Jadida where it was a brief dip in the sea this time I was able to have a good swim and then I just laid on the beach, which I had virtually to myself, for an hour or so before once again returning briefly to my bijou residence in order to grab my helmet and keys and ride to the nearest petrol station to fill up ready for an early getaway tomorrow morning. By the way fuel here is dirt cheap at under 60 pence a litre. I took a slightly circuitous route coming back to the hotel as I was in shorts and tee shirt and I just wanted to feel the lovely warm breeze blowing on my skin. Back in Blighty these opportunities are few and far between and if you do venture out attired in such a fashion you are considered a fool and frowned upon. I like being a fool sometimes! Yet another brief stop at my room and I was out again to get some water and apples for my onward journey. I also bought the nicest tasting dates I've ever had. Mind you they are a little fresher than we can get in the UK, aren't they?! After my exhausting shopping expedition I stopped at a cafe overlooking the local market and was immedietely treated to some more free entertainment! Two young men in their early 20's obviously had a disagreement about something or other and were having a grappling match, which nearly got out of hand when they both managed to get hold of large sticks and were about to go at it, 'Hammer and tongs'! Thankfully friends on both sides stepped in to make sure no serious damage was done. This tooing and frowing went on for about 20 minutes during which time one would have thought the local Old Bill would make an appearance. No chance! All too busy doing their road blocks and standing by their police bikes trying to look important!(see yesterdays blog) Well we are in Morocco! After my meal this evening I sadly made my way to the Bureau De Change to exchange my remaining dirhams back to pounds, as this signified my adventure in Morocco was almost at an end. By the way this is the second time I've had to do todays blog. Went to upload it earlier and somehow lost internet connection and all was gone! If I do anything like this again I must make sure I have Word up and running which obviously saves everything as you go along. Then I would simply cut and paste on to this site when complete. |
Hi Dave,
Sorry i've not commented for a few days. I've been manically busy at work and every time I went to do so, something urgent cropped up. Work can be most inconvenient like that ;-). I'm really enjoying the blog and loving the sound of the Asilah. Sounds like a fantastic little place to stay as a get-away from it all type of a holiday. Do they have any 5* All-Inclusive hotel!! Only joking; your experience is so much more real. You must be sad to have to come home after all that adventure and that beautiful weather, not to mention the cheap food and petrol :-) Looking forward to seeing you when you get home. Lots of love x x x |
Glad you're still finding the blogs entertaining!
Looking forward to seeing you all in a few days xx |
DAY 19 - THU 22ND OCT 2015 - ASILAH (MOROCCO) TO OLALLA DEL CALA (SPAIN) - 215 MILES APPROX
https://www.google.es/maps/vt/data=R...=1&h=200&w=555 https://www.google.es/maps/vt/data=R...=1&h=200&w=555 Who needs a phone alarm when you get a free wake up call from the local Imam at 6am!? It was only 30 minutes before my alarm and it meant I was on the road at a record breaking 7am! I had originally intended to take the toll motorway to ensure I would arrive at Tangier Med in plenty of time and avoiding any chance of getting lost in Tangier city and possibly missing the 10am ferry. Then as I straddled my bike it suddenly occurred to me that I had no dirhams left and when I used the tolls a couple of days ago there was certainly no evidence they accepted credit cards at the booths. Oh well not the end of the world, I thought. Just take the coast road instead and negotiate Tangier city and the worst that could happen would be miss that ferry and wait a couple of hours or so for the next one. For the first 10 miles I was hampered by mist rolling in from the sea (Mull Of Kintyre - Paul McCartney in case you were wondering!). Thankfully that cleared and I was able to push on at a decent pace reaching the outskirts of Tangier City. It was now properly light now and once more it was obvious it was going to be a lovely warm day. What was less obvious was how to get to Tangier Med! And as I pressed on into the heart of the city mild panic began to grow as I had visions of getting lost and missing the boat. Thankfully I saw a sign for 'Plage' (beach) then I knew as long as I hit the seafront and turn left I'd be on my way. My plan worked and soon I was climbing my way along the coastal hills through the 'posh' suburbs and out of the city. What was I worried about? Just after 8.30am and there I was at the Transmediterranea ticket office picking upmy boarding pass. I stole myself in order to prepare for all the shenanigans I was about to be put through before I could finally get back to Spain. Again what was I worried about? I still had to pass through about 4 different checkpoints, but this time I just sailed through, if you'll forgive the pun ( well maybe it's not quite a pun as I wasn't actually sailing at that moment in time, but let's not split hairs, talking of which I'm loving my crewcut, what do you think? Also not sure about the beard?!!). By 9am I was quayside twiddling my thumbs wondering when the ferry was going to appear. Appear it did and as I secured my bike in the hold of the ship I noticed a little Honda CB 125 pull up behind me. Being such a small bike I just assumed it was a relatively rich Moroccan who was having a trip over to Spain. But as the chap removed his helmet he was obviously European and he immediately commented, 'Ah Suzuki DRZ 400 nice bike, great for Morocco I should think' in a distinctive French accent. Yves came from Limoges, right in the middle of France. What I found remarkable was that he'd ridden this tiny little machine all the way from his home into Morocco and way further south and east than I'd been over a two month period. However what I found even more amazing was that he was nearly 70 years old and his only luggage was a small rucksack and a few other items strapped to his pillion seat! I found it quite inspiring and made me think that hopefully I still have a few more years in the tank to plan and experience more great adventures! https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-r...5B1%25255D.JPG GIBRALTAR, A SMALL CORNER OF SPAIN- FOREVER ENGLAND! Once on board Yves spread out his big map of Spain and having established that I was making my way to Santander he said that for the first two thirds of the journey we would be taking the same roads and I'd be welcome to join him. Initially I snobbishly thought 'What with that tiny thing'! (meaning his motorbike of course!) I gave it some thought as when you're alone you do what you want when you want, no worries about trying to accommodate their wants and needs or be concerned about what you want or need will impact on them. 'Come on Dave remember go with the flow'. so I agreed to tag along and see how things went. We flew through the Spanish border and were soon negotiating the busy roads of Algeceris city. Yves had no sat nav and was relying on good old fashioned maps and asking people, the trouble was he stopped a couple of times to ask different people the way and I think he was getting conflicting or certainly confusing information as he would return to me in a huff saying 'Never trust people, they don't know even where they live and how to get out of their own town'! I tried to get a word in edgeways saying that I had vectored in a random town north on the road we needed to be on and perhaps we should just follow that, but I don't think he was listening so we rode on and eventually we hit the right road, but already I was beginning to regret my decision to tag along with him. I also had reservations about the ability of his bike to keep up but to be fair once we were on the open road on the flat he would be comfortably cruising at a genuine 60mph and only struggled a little on the inclines. I had to stop for fuel, he didn't need fuel. He wanted to stop for something to eat, I wasn't hungry! You see what Imean about different wants and needs. Thankfully I was given the perfect excuse to go my own way when he announced he wanted to take some toll roads. I told him that I preferred to stay on the free roads, so we road a little further and as the Peage Toll booths approached we gave one another a friendly farewell wave and I took the slip road off to the right. On I pressed past Seville and relentlessly northwards but still bathed in lovely warm sun I was loving every mile now that I'd regained my independence. As evening approached and my tank went onto reserve I knew it was time to look for fuel and a roof over my head. Just then the next road sign indicated a petrol station and accommodation nearby. Tankful I rode into Olalla De Cala, a lovely little spanish village. There I found the Carmello bar/hotel and even though the owners didn't speak a word of English we soon established through gestures and sign language that there was room at the inn and food would be available, sorted! I quickly changed in order to enjoy the last rays of sun together with my first cold beer since leaving Spain for Morocco a couple of weeks ago. Heaven! |
Skype
Any luck getting that skype working?
Lots of love Dan xx |
Hi Dan
Did leave you a skype message after taking ages to get on the site! but it's all I can do to post the blog atm as I now realise the link times out! Will try this evening xxx |
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I don't know if you saw this I put on the other day, and the Sun is out, bonus Go steady Wayne |
Liking the beard Dave; so glad to see you looking so happy and relaxed. Dad thinks you're back Monday?
Remember fireworks night at Dad's on Saturday 31st October (joint birthday for Teresa & Me) :-) |
Skype!!
Lissie wants to skype now if you can get it working
Lots of love Dan xx |
Hi Dan
For some reason I can't get into my account to update my blog atm. \so unless resolved no more blogs I'm afraid. Re skype, again I have some kind of skype web page in front of me but whether I'm open to video calls or not I don't know??:thumbdown: xx |
Hi Dave,
Sounds like you've had a real adventure, not over yet, enjoy your last few days Love Helen & Tony xx |
Hi Wayne
Sorry I did get the link, thanks. Haven't looked yet but will definitely check it out on my return to UK Dave |
DAY 20 - FRI 23RD OCT 2015 - OLALLA DEL CALA TO PEDROSILLO EL RALO - 270 MILES APPROX
https://www.google.es/maps/vt/data=R...=1&h=200&w=555 I didn't rush to get away this morning as I wanted to update the blog and get a few pictures uploaded from the past couple of days. Also more European weather was in evidence today with a slight nip in the air and a light covering of high cloud, so I figured by hanging around a little it would allow things to warm up a little, mind you I still had to put the fleece on under the leathers when I finally got back on the road about 10.30am. Nothing much to report on the landscape although it was certainly more varied than the eastern route I took heading down. At times the road was so bereft of traffic I felt like I was' king of the road' (Roger Miller top ten hit circa 1966!) Things did get a little more interesting as I crossed a mountain range called the Systema Central where a lot of the time I was cruising well above 3,000 feet, but I'm afraid when you've been spoilt by the High Atlas this all seemed a bit, well, average I guess! At one stage I was getting a little fed up with the wind blast so took shelter behind a lorry for a while, but it back-fired when I followed it off on to a slip road that wasn't my turn and ended up having to travel 5 miles to the next junction before being able to turn round and get back on the right road. Also I made my first right side left side mistake today. I'd just filled up and had taken a break for a drink of water and to eat some of the delicious dates and figs from the Asilah market. Mind in neutral I pulled out from the service station straight onto a roundabout in a clockwise direction only to be confronted head on with a car coming from the opposite way. Thankfully neither of us were travelling at speed. We both slowed down, I gave an embarrassing apologetic wave, did an about turn and continued on my way , luckily no harm done! I'd made up my mind to get beyond Salamanca. With that target achieved and when my poor aching back of my right thigh could stand it no longer at the next exit with a fuel and bed sign I off. I'm in a nice little place called Hostel Carolina in a hamlet called Pedrosillo El Ralo. How can I describe the lanscape here other than to say they should call the village Pedrosillo El Norfolk or Suffolk. Enough said!! I ate in the hostal restaurant and once I'd used t'internet to interpret the menu I established that for a fixed price of 9 euros I could have a starter of salad, main course of mackeral, some kind of pudding with the word yogurt in it, bread and a drink. That'll do me I thought. I placed my order and then pointed to my glass and in my best Spanish said ,'Vino tinto por favor'. A minute later he returned with my bread and a WHOLE bottle of red wine, which he opened and simply left on the table. Some wine connoisseur would tell you it was crap I expect but I thought it wasn't half-bad! After quaffing half the contents with my meal there was no way I was leaving the rest, so it came back to the room and now sits in a plastic bottle for future consumption. Bowel Movement Update Report: Nothing to report and that's what's starting to concern me a little now, the Marrakesh Immodium has worked too well as nothing has shifted for nearly 5 days now! I still feel fine, not bloated or anything, I even did a jog earlier. Oh well lets hope who's ever on strike down there in the lower gut department decides to go back to work and open the sluice gates very soon! Sorry didn't take any pics today as there was nothing that warranted a snap. So here's one of the stunning sunset in Asilah which you could say signifies the end of my Moroccan adventure! https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-K...5B1%25255D.JPG |
Hi K
Dad's right I won't be back in Reading until monday evening, xx |
Well enjoy being 'Kind of the Road' whilst you can, as it will be a shock to the system when you get back to old blighty with our roads, not to mention the rain which hasn't stopped all day today!! Bet you enjoyed that wine; you must have been drunk after the first glass :-).
See you soon and remember to put 31st for get together in your diary x x x |
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No dramas not over yet see todays blog!!! xxx |
Hi Karen,
Yeah will seem strange battling through so many cars and lorries just to get home, hopefully the weather will be kind to me on Mon afternoon! xxx 31st set aside no worries |
DAY 21 - SAT 24TH OCT 2015 - PEDROSILLO EL RALO TO REINOSA - 174 MILES APPROX.
https://www.google.es/maps/vt/data=R...=1&h=200&w=555 As I awoke this morning I could tell moves were definitely afoot, or should I say abottom, in the bowel department! However I'm afraid it turned out to be a bit of a false dawn and once I'd been to the loo I'm afraid I could only claim a very limited success. After doing most of my packing and togging up I wandered down to the bar area and thankfully the three people sat at the bar all had a slice of toast, jam, butter and a cup of coffee in front of them, so I simply pointed at their breakfast and then pointed at myself and the girl behind the counter immediately understood and got things underway. Just another funny little observation about bars and counters on the continent. In the UK if the barman wants to leave the bar area he or she simply lifts the section of bar which is hinged with may be a little shoot bolt for security. But I noticed certainly in Spain and Morocco this is not an option and the employee is forever having to stoop down as they attend to various chores on both sides of the bar/counter. Perhaps a little more secure than the UK system, I don't know? Since having my new sprockets and chain I haven't really checked it at all. So as I was in no hurry I had a good look and it didn't seem to need adjusting but it was as dry as bike that's been on Moroccan dirt roads for a couple of weeks!! All I had was my, now, half litre of engine oil in its plastic dispenser. I couldn't pour it on the chain as it would've used loads and made an awful mess. Thankfully I'd taken a few of those very thin one size fits all polythene gloves at my last garage visit. So I slipped one on and then poured a little oil into the palm of my hand and gently applied a small amount at a time, moving the bike forward a little each time in order to expose a bit of new unoiled chain. I also checked my engine oil level which may have dropped marginally so I topped that up whilst I was in 'maintenance mode'! On the road, nothing much to report really. The bike is running perfectly. I keep trying to adopt slightly different riding positions in the hope my aching right leg syndrome doesn't develop, but no luck in that department I'm afraid. So I pressed on to my target destination, a delightful little town called Reinosa, tucked away in the Cantabrian mountains but within an hour or so of Santander (tomorrows destination). With the help of my sat nav I found a nice cheap clean hotel right in the centre of town called the Abrego. After going through the booking in formalities with the receptionist she handed me my room key and then showed me another key on a ring and as I understood it, she was indicating there would be no one in reception later and that if I wanted to go out I had to take the key she'd shown me in order to get back into the lobby of the hotel and thereby gain access to my room. I had also been told the street outside was pedestrian only and I'd have to move my bike to find somewhere to park. So I grabbed my helmet and rode round the block a few times and found a good spot close to the hotel. Within 10 minutes I was back at the door, which was now locked and the lobby was in darkness. Bo----ks! I didn't realise she was shutting up shop now, otherwise I would have taken the key she had shown me. Never mind, I thought, it's just their afternoon siesta and she'll be back at 5 or 6 this evening. So I took the opportunity to go to the local Lidl store and get a few food supplies for my 24 hour overnight journey back on the ferry tomorrow. All safely stuffed in my rucksack I travelled about 4 miles out of town to what I guess you'd describe as being a nature reserve next to the River Ebo. I spent a pleasant hour or so walking round that and as 5pm approached I made my way back to my hotel. Still all in darkness, double bo----ks, never mind I'm sure someone will show at 6pm! Then it dawned on me it was saturday and in Spain, apart from restaurants and bars, basically everything shuts down at saturday lunchtime and that's it until monday morning. Sure enough 6pm came and went, no sign of anyone, treble bo----ks! My only saving grace was, unlike in Fez, I'd learnt my lesson and this time I had one of the hotels calling cards with me and a phone number. Where was my phone, in the room of course, quadruple bo----ks!! In the end I approached a young couple with a kiddie, knowing that a lot of the older Spanish people don't speak a word of English.Thankfully the girl did have enough of a smattering to understand my predicament and using my calling card and her mobile she phoned the number. Thank god someone answered. After a short conversation the girl told me to remain where I was and someone would be with me in 10 minutes. Sure enough the same girl who booked me in turned up and in broken English asked if I had left my key in the room. I said 'No' I had it on me. I pulled it out my pocket and handed it to her. She then dangled the keyring in front of me and to my horror and embarrassment there were two keys hanging there, one for my room and one for the hotel front door, quintuple (or whatever the correct term for five is!) bo----ks!! I profusely grovelled and apologized for spoiling her weekend, but she said it was okay and left me feeling relieved but bit of an idiot! Not content there I gave myself another scare a bit later when I went to check my return ferry ticket for tomorrow only to find a sheet of paper from my printer indicating I should have caught the thursday 22nd Ferry from Bilbao to Portsmouth. Oh Christ what have you done now Dave you tw-t!? as I urgently shuffled through my other papers and there at the very bottom was my confirmation paperwork regarding tomorrows sailing, I'd obviously been looking at alternatives and as the Bibao to Portsmouth was an option I'd obviously printed it off and then it just got shuffled in with the rest of my paperwork. Anyway as I believe Dickens, or Shakespear or someone said,'Alls well that ends well !' |
Looks like you are still with the silly open face lid,,,,lol,,,great trip you are having looking forward to the next chapter.
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I'm afraid so. Proud to be british you see and also when approaching the locals in Morocco I'm sure they prefer to see a smiling face rather than the aggressive look of a full face. Glad you're still enjoying the blog |
That was one of me first adventures I was planing to do that didn't happen, I couldn't find a way to get across from Tunisia to marroco so I ended up in albania and Italy still had a great time, I know what you are thinking don't ask,
I bet you will have the bug now, on the ferry back you will be planing you next one,,,,I think,,,, |
DAY 22 - SUNDAY 25TH OCT 2015 - REINOSA TO SANTANDER - 50 MILES APPROX.
https://www.google.es/maps/vt/data=R...=1&h=200&w=555 I seem to be getting all mixed up with my UK and continental time differences and some how contrived to set my alarm for 6.30am instead of my intended 7.30am wake up call. The only bonus was when I turned on the TV the Malaysian Moto GP was just about to get underway! So being as I didn't need to leave until about 11.30am I settled down to watch Danny Pedrosa win with Jorge Lorenzo finish second and Valentino Rossi finish third after causing Marc Marquez to crash, well that's how I saw it. I wouldn't be surprised if 'The Doctor' doesn't get 'struck off' for that incident! My savior from last nights shenanigans was sat at reception and with a knowing smile, as if to say, 'You stupido Englishman!', ushered me through to the breakfast room. Being the only person in the room I was treated to unlimited coffee, toast, jam, butter, orange juice and croissants, so I duly filled my boots, well my tummy to be more precise! And as I rose to return to my room, the compacting effect of what I'd just eaten on top of everything else I'd consumed over the last few days finally had the desired effect! After a couple of false starts yesterday I could tell this was the real McCoy and ten minutes later I emerged from the loo a much relieved man and a few pounds lighter to! Anyway no more toilet talk, promise! It was time to pack and get kitted up. I had originally planned to leave earlier and take a detour around the nearby lake, in fact I'm pretty sure it was a reservoir resulting from the damming of the river Ebro that I'd visited further upstream yesterday. However the weather was quite damp and overcast, so I skipped that plan and headed straight for the port. Once on the road, the weather quickly brightened up and as I'd left in plenty of time I left the autopista and instead opted for the old twisty road that ran roughly parallel. The sun had at last put his hat on but the roads were still a bit damp so I had to be a bit cautious regarding lean angles, but the way the old road followed the sinuous stream and railway along the valley floor was so much more fun and in keeping with the surrounding scenery rather than the new autopista which was just blasted into the mountainside so that it could bludgeon it's way straight through to the north coast. Although my new route was far more picturesque the opening of the new road had obviously taken it's toll on the old, as every so often I'd pass a closed hotel, garage or shop that had obviously depended on passing lifeblood of vehicular traffic. The bonus for me was that between the towns along the route I virtually had the road to myself. https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-k...5B1%25255D.JPG THE OLD ROADS ARE THE BEST! My nirvana was gradually dismantled as I approached Santander and the traffic began to build. Now I've grown to begrudgingly love and respect my sat nav but just when you become reliant on it, just like a woman, she lets you down (only joking ladies!). Sure enough it took me to a point along the road immediately adjacent to the harbourside and indeed there was the Brittany Ferries Amorique right in front of me. The only problem was a 15 foot wire fence preventing me getting to it! Using my loudest four fingers in the mouth wolf whistle I managed to attract the attention of a flourescent jacket-wearing employee on the other side of the fence, who directed me back in the direction from whence I came. By now 1.15pm checking in time was rapidly approaching and once again that feeling of mild panic began to creep up on me. Calm down Dave. I headed back out of town. After a mile or so I managed a U- turn and headed back into the city centre this time ignoring my sat nav and instead concentrating on the signs for the ferry. Again I made the same approach but this time I spotted the entrance gate (which I have to say in my defence was not very obvious at all). Safely through, checked in and passport control negotiated I pulled up behind a couple of Harleys dressed up like christmas trees, and that was just the riders and their partners! I was fortunate enough to pull up to another trail bike, a 2005 BMW F650 single. The first thing he said after asking where I'd been was that my engine sounded sweet as a nut I said ' I wish my seat was as sweet'! We had a laugh about that as he explained that the legendary BMW comfort certainly didn't apply to his bike either! As we chatted, Gareth, unsurprisingly lived in Wales and was a member of the Trail Riders Fellowship and that he and some other mates and members had spent a few days riding some of the dirt roads in eastern Portugal. Exhausting but great fun as he went on to tell me he had a much more hardcore Husquvarna enduro bike at home but had bought the BMW as he had to ride on tarmac down to Portsmouth from North Wales and then on to Portugal itself, where it then became his trail bike. I have a lovely double cabin all to myself and as soon as I'd changed out my bike gear the first thing I did was wash my long-sleeved thermal under vest as when I put it on this morning it was positively humming and I just couldn't stand the thought of putting it on again for tomorrows final leg home! |
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I'll be honest, I won't be planning anything until I get the comfort of my seat sorted out properly!! Dave |
DAY 23MON 26TH OCT 2015 - SANTANDER TO PORTSMOUTH - 780 MILES APPROX
PORTSMOUTH TO READING - 55 MILES APPROX https://www.google.co.uk/maps/vt/dat...=1&h=200&w=555 I spent a reasonably relaxed evening in the lounge area of the ship as this is where the wi-fi hotspot is located. Therefore I was able to update the blog, albeit I had the old problem where somehow the link dropped out so when I went to upload, everything I'd scribed for the last 45 minutes was lost! Back to square one it was then! Consequently I didn't actually go to bed until midnight. Never mind , I thought, I should sleep well, especially as I spent the best part of an hour in the evening doing exercises in my tiny little cabin! Even though the sea was relatively calm it was a broken nights sleep and when I arose I felt I could've done with a couple more decent hours, but I'm one of those people who, once I'm awake, I might as well get up, otherwise I just lay there or toss and turn. Mind you after an invigorating splash in the shower I felt good to go! So I had breakfast made up of the supplies I'd purchased back in Reinosa and then read my first British newspaper for 3 weeks and went back to my cabin for an hours snooze to make up for last night! I then spent the rest of the time bringing this blog up to date. https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-r...2/IMG_4645.JPG ENGLISHMAN LEAVES SPANISH SHORES ABOARD FRENCH SHIP HOMEWARD BOUND! 27 hours at sea on board the Amorique and at last I was able to tog up for the last time. If you have to wait around quite awhile before riding, putting the right amount of kit on is an art! I think there are 2 schools of thought on this subject. 1) Put on what you feel comfortable in at the time, start riding, get cold, stop soon after you get going, place on extra layer(s), set off again! 2) Put on extra layers, become all hot and bothered, start riding, cool down, keep going until your destination! I am of the latter school in case you were interested! Having said that within 4 miles of leaving the terminal at Portsmouth I was pulling in to a garage to fill up the bike! Wanting to be home before dark I must admit I didn't hang around, so after a fairly rapid but uneventful journey I rode into my close with a strange mixture of emotions. Relief at making it home in one piece, sadness that this was the end of my Moroccan odyssey, the pleasant anticipation of being back in my own house and in my own bed later, the excitement of seeing other members of my family who I'd missed, and dare I say it, I was actually looking forward to getting back to work the very next day, sad I know! As I wheeled my bike into the garage and kicked out the side stand I actually patted the tank a couple of times and whispered under my breath, 'Thanks old girl, you got me out there, you got me back', and I then kissed the windscreen! I really felt quite emotional, again a bit sad I know!! Once in my humble abode, a lovely surprise, my sister who'd been popping in from time to time whilst I was away had left a fresh loaf of bread, milk and a packet of chocolate Hobnobs, I tell you life doesn't get much better! So after a lovely cup of proper proper tea and a couple of biccies I got cracking with the unpacking and put a wash on. Then it was a half hour slump in front of telly but with eyelids drooping I crawled up the stairs and crashed into my lovely warm bed. Within a couple of minutes I was in never never land dreaming of the endless possibilities for next years adventure! |
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