Morocco

2nd January - Day 14, Meknes.
Already it is getting darker here much later than Edinburgh - we must have travelled round a fair amount of the world's curvature. thank the Gods that the weeather changed today - for the first time in 2 weeks it's been beautiful blue skies. We had fun yesterday but did get wet on a lovely ride to Chefchaouen; a stunning hill side town in the middle of the Rif mountains. The countryside is full of olive groves, orange orchards and, I guess, hashish plantations, given the amount that seems to be for sale on the streets and smoked in bars. Chefchaouen is famed for its vibrant blue than seems to have been liberally painted (read 'splashed') on all buildings, doors, windows and alleyway floors. the town is a tourist town, but unlike Malaga it is full of Spanish tourists and much more civil for it ... My introduction to the tagine was a mean affair, with the flavours mingling in the atmosphere with pot smoking, baggy-panted Spanish hippies.

We then split from Cactus and Keely for a few days so that we could get the Mauritania visa from Rabat.

4th January - Day 16, Rabat
Welcome to African beaurocracy! Today's job was to get a Mauritanian visa from the embassy in Rabat. Visas were available at the Moroccan/Mauritanian border until only a few weeks ago. The embassy staff in Rabat are obviously ill prepared for their new job issuing visas. The long New Year weekend coming to a close resulted in an army of vagabond travellers of all varieties congregating at the gates of the embassy in the early hours of this morning. The vehicles outside looked like an A to Z of Sahara overland cars, vans and bikes. The travellers ranged from the traditional muslim Moroccan to the crusty (and I mean very crusty) French youth. When the gates opened at 9.20 (late), pushing and shoving was the order of the day. Four to five people at a time were let into a tiny room with a tiny window in a wall from where visas applications were taken in.

Numbered tickets were eventually issued to the crowds outside, which resulted in arguments and more shoving. When the 11am official closure loomed and tensions rose futher, a representative announced that the embassy would stay open until everyone had been seen. Phew! Meanwhile we stood in the torrential downpours that were flooding the road, with only doorways and a tiny canopy to protect us from the wet. We finally left the embassy 5 hours later at 1.30pm with my passport accepted.

We were told to come back at 8pm the same evening to collect passports and visas. After more heavy rain and more waiting, I collected my passport at 10.30pm, after a further 2.5 hours waiting. But at least I have the visa!! Tomorrow we'll head East and South over the Atlas to eventually hook back up with Cactus and Keely.

6th January - Day 18, Merzouga
Sun and the Sahara. How happy are we? In our quest to head South for the warmth we've reached the Sahara. From Midlt at 1500m in the plateau beteen the middle and high Atlas, we climbed through stunning scenery to a 2000m col. The decent from there was stunning, passing a turqouise lake towayds the flat Sahara. For a while we seemed to be on a vast, completely flat,open, barren plateau, until Tracy pointed to our right where the River Ziz had created a huge cleft in the land. At the bottom of the gorge was a plam plantation and earth-built villages. With the towering escarpments above it was breathtaking.

Here the women wear black (always with a bit of glitter!) and those that are married have facial tattoos. As we decended, the temperature rose and the landscapes become ever more barren. We were heading for Erfoud and Morocco's Erg Chebbi - an enormous sand desert. After many landcruisers fll of tourists opassed us, we rolled into Merzouga with its brilliant red sand dunes and not so brilliant touts (it has the reputation of fast becoming the most tout-plagued place in Morocco). We rode straight past most of them, despite them leaping into the road infront of the bike in an attempt to stop us, and rode right up to the dunes for photos. The most persistent tout followed us on a clapped-out moped, yelling all the time. We succombed and are now at a comfortable auberge right by the dunes for the night. We are the only guests, and we can hear loud drumming - Berber music - being played from the dinning hall. We are determined not to go outside for fear of getting roped into 'audience participation' and a demand for money (in payment for the entertainment), so we're sitting in our room giggling instead with the door locked.

7th January - Day 19, Nkob
An early wake up today was rewarded by a wonderful, not quite dawn walk into the sand dunes. With no other toursts or touts around, we had a fabulous start to Tracy's birthday. We had made contact with Cactus and Keely and planned to meet them further west. They were taking on an epic crossing by piste roads (ie off road) from the North, while we enjoyed scenic tarmac roads through abrren countryside. At an interesting escarpment in the middle of nowhere, we stopped and walked up on to the ridge. As if by magic, three fossil salesmen with rtays of ammonites appeared from nowhere with enthusiasm, smiles and fossils. How do they do it? Where did they come from? It seems people are everywhere and everyone has something to sell. Cactus and Keely were having a hard time and their route and would be late, so we carried on to Nkob through very strong winds - which I'm sure is going to give me neck muscles like Arnold Schwartzeneger! We met a Slovac guy and his beautiful Ukrainian girlfriend for an extended lunch in a remarkable scummy restaurant and late fot shown around all the accommodation in town by our friendly, filthy waiter on his clapped out moped. We finally found a great camping auberge with warm rooms (a rarity!), the hottest and most powerful shower in Morocco and decent enough food. Cactus and Keely finally arrived, accompanied by a land rover with a British couple from Guernsey who had made the same crossing. Would you believe, Tracy knows them - having worked with Lauren for years handling cruise ships in Guernsey. Small world. Led to a fun evening with the 6 of us plus a another nice Brit called Tony. Not bad for the arse end of nowhere.

8th-9th January - Days 20, 21, Zagora-Dades Gorges
...the only thing more erratic than a Moroccan school kid on a bicycle is the suicidal dogs that obviously don;t think it's worth living in these parts, as they walk calmoly in front of you, watiting to be hit by the motorbike, even with the horn being pressed continuously. The Draa Valley is where the trade caravans used to travel en route between Marakech and Timboctu. Morocco was the trading post between sub-Saharan Africa and Europe. I assume the takes collected in the Draa Valley paid for the huge Kasbahs (fortressed houses) down this valley. The Kasbahs are like family/clan fortresses made out of earth and straw. They are beautiful to look at and suprising in the quantity and size that are still standing. The Kasbahs and the palm plantations and arid mountains behind make quite a spectacle.

We had spotted problems with the motorbike by the stage - serious damage to the chain chain set, with bit chunks being taken out of the teeth. It was a problem we couldn't ignore - probably caused by initially have the chain too loose, and then over-tightening it, we think. The bike isn't really designed to take 2 riders plus all our luggage. We'd need to get the parts replaced, somehow, before I could carry on through Africa. We started to make calls to get parts sent over from the UK and find a place to get it fitted. Cactus had contacts for both, and so we made a stop in Ouarzazate to visit Bikers' Home - an operation run by Dutch Peter and his Moroccan wife Zineb. He has a garage for repairs, rooms to stay in and offers off road touring - a great set up.

10th-11th January - Days 22,23, Ouarzazate to Marakech
We headed to Ouarzazate and the Bikers' Home to firm up plans to get bike parts out from the UK. A phone call back to the UK confirmed the usual lack of action in these situations - the parts had not yet been sent (ordered 2 days earlier). By sheer chance, a friendly Belgian guy called Boni was at the Bikers' Home too, and had the very bad luck to have completely buggered his bike while getting stuck in a river half way through an off road ride. His bad luck became my very good luck - it must have been a kharma thing. The bike he had is a Yamaha Tenere like mine. As it was now in a disassembly line of broken parts lined up on the garage floor, he very kindly sold me the parts I needed for my bike, from the remains of his. He simply added the parts we took to the order he needed to make for his own damaged bike. Boni - thank you - we owe you one, and we hope you make your trip through Africa some day too!

It never really occured to me before this trip just how delicate moptorbikes are. They also wear alot faster than cars or bicycles. 8am the next morning the mechanic came to sort out my bike (the Paris-Dakar rally has meant that Morocco is packed with good mechanics). By 11am I was on the road and Tracy was on a bus. We both heade over the High Atlas to Marakech, from where Tracy will catch a plane home. I was much happier with Tracy safe and warm on a bus and not cold and potentially unsafe on the bike with me. The pass over the mountain had only just re-opened after lots of snow. Luckily today was fantastic weather, the riding was fabulous with sweeping corners and mostly dry roads on the climb. At over 2000m, the high pass will be my highest point on the entire journey. At the top there was the first of 2 car crashes I passed. The Moroccans are truly terrible drivers - erratic, unreliable and if the vehicle is pwerful enough they drive way too fast. After meeting Tracy for lunch at the coach halfway point I soon passed the second accident. This time, the traffic backed up and after passing the accident site, the drivers started driving as if crazed. The slow trucks had caused tailbacks and cars cut me up trying to overtake them. For me to overtake them was dangerous as was staying in my spot in the line of traffic.

The approach to Marakech was no beter with some cars travelling at 100 miles per hour, others at a more moderate 40 miles per hour. I waited for Tracy's coach to pass me so I could follow it into the coach station. It turns out that the coach driver was as crazy as any driver in Morocco. I followed in hot pursuit as if I was in a Bond movie. Stressful and not at all fun!

Andrew

Editor's note: We found a hotel in the Ville Nouvelle and walked into the famous main square of Marakech that night for a terrible, over-priced meal at one of the food stalls, had a quick look about and decided that we didn't like this place at all! We have felt that while in Asia, we were always approached by people wanting to sell us something, at least we enjoyed the interaction with them and felt we all had fun together. But in Morocco, we have generally felt that it is a one way relationship - everyone is looking for a way to make their buck, but without the rewarding chats, gesticulations and fun that we enjoyed in Asia. We set our minds to having a good full day the next day in Marakesh - our last together for a few months - and were rewarded with a day of wandering through the Northern part of the souk, eating in 'holes in the wall' (want any tripe or offal with that?), meeting a wonderful French man, Patrick, who runs the lovely Maison du Photographie and read us a beautiful poem about travellers that he had translated and generally just enjoying exploring together. Andrew dropped me off at the airport the next morning and headed South.

I spoke with him last night (Saturday 16th Jan) and he had already crossed Western Sahara and got over the Mauritanian border in the afternoon, which he described as 'interesting'. I decided not to delve further! Tonight he will reach the capital of Noukachott and will either spend one day there to get his Mali visa, or will scoot directly over the border in one day to reach St Louis in Senegal. Internet is sparse - and dial up only I understand. So he'll probably email blogs to me to load up for him. Not sure how we'll get photos loaded, but we'll figure something out. I haven't managed to get the link to photos working yet, but here you can do it manually: http://www.flickr.com/photos/asiabybike/

Enjoy!