May 2010
1989 Kawasaki KLR650 Tengai
More photos from this trip
Day 1 - 03/05/10
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| Nothe Fort, Weymouth, from the St Malo Ferry |
End - Noussant de Gruyere, France
204km
My overloaded 1989 Kawasaki KLR650 Tengai and I were ushered onto the ferry at Weymouth by my good friends Dot and Roger. I had experienced a great deal of trepidation about setting off into the 'wilds' of France, relying on nothing more than my feeble wits and grade 4 schoolboy francais. Not my first trip but scheduled to be my longest - three months!!
Initially headed for Morocco, I would then return through Europe via the Alps, and down to Turkey. It didn't pan out that way as it happened. . .
Straight out of St Malo, a near miss with a French motorist insisting on 'Priorite a Droite' when he was supposed to 'Cedez le Passage' and having the satnav bracket fall off on the dual carriageway were enough to fray my already dodgy nerves. A quick stop for food and then flaking out in an empty campsite was as much as I could manage.
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| Chateau at Montreuil-Bellay |
End - Boussiere Poitevine, France
291km / 495km (Day / Total)
A grumpy campsite owner chastised me for not paying last night so after striking camp I shuffled meekly to the 'Grande Maison' to settle up. Damn your slur on my honest character!!
Bright and breezy weather as I checked out a couple of chateaux on route, becoming increasingly blowy as I neared Limoges. My goal was to get close enough to Oradour-sur-Glane to visit tomorrow but the conditions were getting worse. I called it a day when I saw a campsite sign directing me into a small village but had to ask a bemused looking local teen for directions - embarrassing as it transpired we were stood 50 metres from the obvious entrance. A much nicer Patron than last night and after admiring my bike (!!) he charged me €4! Bargain! Dog tired so it was another early night. Tomorrow the first of my 'Destinations' - The martyrs village of Oradour-sur-Glane.
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| Menhir near Oradour-sur-Glane |
End - Boussiere Poitevine (again!)
100km / 595km (Day / Total)
Heavy downpour and leaden skies brought my grand adventure to a very early halt. I cowered in my tent for most of the day reading as the skies emptied themselves around me. This would become a familiar pattern as it turned out (the rain rather than the cowering!). A recce yesterday had revealed no food shop in the village so when the deluge eased I donned my waterproofs and gingerly rode into the next town for fuel and supplies. A fortuitous signpost meant I took an exploratory trip to Oradour but just missed last entry so it was back to the tent on some lovely country lanes - very green and lush - and wet! I was tempted to relocate and rough camp at a clearing with a huge menhir but the hot showers at the campsite won out.
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| Burned out church at Oradour-Sur-Glane (top) Abbey Churches and Chateau of Rocamadour |
End - Rocamadour, France
243km / 838km (Day / Total)
An early start in weather that could best be described as 'not quite raining' and I finally made it to Oradour. This village has been left in a state of arrested decay as a memorial to the 636 villagers herded into the church and burned alive by the SS as retribution for resistance activity. The sombre conditions suited this moving and eerie place.
A lovely run down through Sarlat de Caneda on some super roads winding below cliff top chateaux and on to the awesome spectacle of Rocamadour. A fortuitously late arrival meant it was almost deserted and I enjoyed the precipitous drop from the Castle battlement walk and the precarious cliff face church and chapel. A real medieval feel to this maze of stairways and passages. Two great places in one day - very pleased with my choices so far, apart from maybe deciding to camp, given the rain! As I climbed out of the valley to find a place to stay the sun finally returned, bathing everything in a beautiful golden evening light. Another deserted farm campsite and I retired feeling very contented.
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| Hilltop Chateau at Najac |
Day 5 - 07/05/10
End - Samatan, France
277km / 1115km (Day / Total)
The weather picked up as I packed away my camp, hitting a heady 20°C; fully 8°C better than yesterday's high! I even got to ride in sunshine!!
Set off to see some ruined castles at Najac, Penne and Bruniquel, getting some superb deserted back roads using the direct option on the satnav. Had my first conversations in English today after locals took pity as I mangled their beautiful language.
Penne in particular was a fabulously rustic and ramshackle little place where everyone was very friendly and relaxed and I was tempted to stay for a while. The road was calling though and after a panic in a seemingly campsite free area I rocked up during a festival in Samatan and hit the municipal campsite.
The thumping call of what sounded like a pikey hoedown lured me into town where they had a bizarre indoor circus in the cattle market, complete with chained animals looming out of the dark outside.
The call of company and beer led me to an encounter in a bar with some incredibly condescending English girls working in the nearby Chateau which pissed me off - if you are so superior why are you just a fucking waitress? I'll stick to the locals - far more polite.
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| Cirque de Gavarnie from the town -5km away! |
End - Luz St Saveur, France
256km / 1371km (Day / Total)
Dropped my overloaded beast of burden as I packed! The sidestand dug into the soft turf but the disc lock was on and trapped beneath the bike so I could neither roll it nor stand it up to undo it. Felt like such an idiot! No damage though.
Failed to notice that the 8th of May is V.E. day and rode through several villages getting dirty looks from folks gathered at memorials! History huh!!
Finally arrived at the Pyrenees to a find them looking much whiter than anticipated. The information boards showed snow closures at various passes and the tunnel. closed for repairs. Bugger!
My first pass at the Col d'Aspin took me up numerous switchbacks above the snowline where I was able to weave around the snowy patches of tarmac, but utterly white and bleak coming down! Didn't even stop for a photo due to the cold.
The closed passes meant a detour through Lourdes which the guidebook had told me to avoid - the only miracle here was finding the right road out after the satnav had a tantrum and tried repeatedly to send me up one way streets and dead ends. So much for loading the most up to date European maps from TomTom!
Changeable weather ushered me up fabulous roads to Gavarnie where I abandoned the bike and walked in growing gloom to the awesome Cirque, where stormy clouds were cascading over the mile high cliffs above me. Possibly the most awesome natural spectacle I have seen anywhere in Europe; So breathtakingly huge that none of my photographs even begin to convey it's scale.
A nice campsite was found after a cracking ride back down deserted roads to the valley below -a great day marred only by the unseasonably snowy conditions and closed roads and cols.
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| What on earth am I doing? Approaching the Col d' Souloir at 1794m |
End - Sabananigo, Spain
189km / 1560km (Day / Total)
Another downpour delayed my departure until midday and another closure at the Col d'Souloir into the Col d'Aubisque necessitated a change of route, just as it started to rain again. At this altitude there was a chance of freezing so I headed back down rapidly; tetchy and frustrated.
As a closet twitcher I was impressed with the birds though. Kites, eagles and vultures circled as I stopped at one of the cols, talking to a fellow Englishman who lived locally and who expressed envy at my trip - Just do it man!
Eventually I found my way round to the Col du Portalet which appeared to be open!! Hurrah; Spain at last. The ride up was so drear and bleak though that I began to wonder just what the fuck was I doing alone on a twenty year old bike, 1794m up a mountain pass. Just after I crossed the border the heavens opened (again!)and on mercifully excellent Spanish tarmac I powered down to the lowlands in a fearful downpour with lightning and thunder crashing around me.
A police roadblock right next to a campsite was my cue and I took shelter on the porch of one of their cabins as the storm came and went with ridiculous suddenness and violence, making me laugh manically at the madness of the Pyrenean weather. My pitch had gained 6 inches of water in less than ten minutes!! And then almost by magic it cleared, the sun appeared, and within seconds steam was rising everywhere!!
Launderette, cafe, bar and bed. Tomorrow the Ordesa National Park!
Just a shade off 1000 miles since I set off a week ago - way behind my 200 miles a day schedule though. Damn that weather!
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| Waterfalls in the Ordesa Gorge |
End - Sabananigo, Spain
88km / 1648km (Day / Total)
Today's goal was to visit the Ordesa National Park. This is literally the other side of the mountain from the Cirque de Gavarnie - less than 10km as the crow flies but 180km by road!
I ended up hiking the whole way to the top of the gorge, motorcycling gear and all, which took 6 hours in total. Stunning scenery all the way and a series of impressive waterfalls as the stream tumbled the length of the gorge, falling hundreds of metres in the process.
On returning to the bike I was so tired I could barely stand and as the ubiquitous deluge rolled in I missed my turning going out of the gorge! I put out a foot to pivot the bike and it just gave way, dropping both the bike and myself to the floor, breaking the clutch lever off in the perch! Bastard!
With rain running from my lid I tried in vain to get it into gear without stalling, but ended up pushing it half a mile until I had enough slope to bump it into gear. Drenched with rain and sweating profusely I took shelter under a carport in the first village and was scoped out by a pair of cops as I fitted a new lever. At least I had brought the right spares but would need to find another as the broken item was utterly useless. I finished the repair and I returned to the campsite cursing my stupidity, the relentless rain and pretty much anything else that came to mind
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| Castillo de Loarre |
End - Ablitas, Spain
252km / 1900km (Day / Total)
I awake to glorious sunshine and travel on to Jaca to stock up on supplies. However, I am feeling a bit isolated and can't be bothered to check out the town itself, even though it's supposed to be interesting. I speak no spanish beyond Hola and Gracias which makes conversations a little short and tedious!
Out of the Pyrenhees now although it is still hilly. Visited the monasteries at San Juan de la Pena but again, couldn't summon the enthusiasm to tour the new monastery, given the relative busy-ness.
Passed some huge crags surrounded by vultures that the map refers to as les Mallos. Truly awesome monoliths, towering above the village of Riglos. My goal was the Castillo de Loarre which was closing soon so I had to forgo climbing to the top for the view (which I now regret! Maybe next time). The Castle was photogenic, interesting and very intact, but full of teenagers on coach trips, laughing and enjoying themselves, increasing my isolation. I had a conversation with a mexican lady photographer at the cafe but it didn't lighten my mood.
Pushing on I streaked through the Badlands of the Bardenas Reales de Navarra and was ambushed by the rain and dusk, necessitating pitching my tent in a pine wood alongside some olive groves. Feeling lonely, worried about being harassed for free camping, and fed up with wet weather - right here and now this seems like an ordeal rather than a holiday!
Day 10 - 12/5/10
End - El Burgo de Osma
190km / 2090km (Day / Total)
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| El Burgo de Osma |
After an arse-clenching misreading of the traffic signals I am back on the road, in the rain. I program the satnav to take me to the nearest town avoiding motorways and it immediately leads me straight onto a dual carriageway just as the rain gets switched from steady to torrential! Unable to stop or turn off, and at the mercy of speeding trucks creating clouds of spray, I ride 7 miles to the next exit and then pull up under the flyover. For several solid minutes I scream obscenities at the idiotic satnav, the biblical downpour, everything Spanish and my own fucking stupidity for embarking on this ridiculous trip. What the fuck was I thinking? The satnav is only saved from being dashed to the ground and stamped on by the barest realisation that I might still benefit from it.
I eventually calm down and follow the signs to the nearest town - El Burgo de Osma. I stop at a cafe and sit dripping, eating some random thing selected from an indecipherable menu until I have warmed up and calmed down.
Back on the bike I have gone no more than 500metres when I see, in quick succession, a hotel, a castle, a tower and a cathedral. No camping for me tonight!! Luxury, warmth and dryness await!! And all for €39. I am not leaving until the rain stops!
Day11 - 13/05/10
End: Segovia, Spain
140km / 2230km (Day / Total)
Why did I persist with camping so long in such shitty weather? A night in a hotel has massively improved my spirits and dried my gear. Apart from my boots which smell like death and rot!
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| Roman Aquaduct in Segovia |
Unfortunately just as I set off the rain started again and this time it was cold too. My journey to Segovia proceeded in small chunks as I could do no more than a few miles before my fingers were frozen. I stopped at every town and petrol station just to thaw out.
In the village of La Rades I staggered into the cafe and was almost mothered to death by the woman behind the counter, including bringing out a gas fire to put next to me.
We attempted to communicate for some time but all I understood was that she was half Romanian and hates Italians. I left her arguing with her husband, presumably about how they will never get rich if they provide half an hours use of a gas fire and four coffees for €1.10!!
Eventually I struggled into Segovia and, at 5°C, hit the hotels again. Finally the skies cleared and I struggled for over an hour to find the famous aquaduct, only to follow it to within 50 metres of my hotel!!
Day12 - 14/05/10
End: Toledo, Spain
181km / 2411km (Day / Total)
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| The plaza and main facade of El Escorial |
Ongoing cold meant a change of plan as I decided to go south rather than back over the mountains to Avila. The route was uninspiring with a lot of dull townsand with the bike feeling worryingly rough at speed on a few enforced motorway sections I eventually made it into Toledo and a pricey and greenery free campsite just as the heavens opened once more! Wonderful. . .
The rain in Spain falls mainly on the British touring motorcyclist!!
Day13 - 15/05/10
End: Toledo, Spain
15km / 2426km (Day / Total)
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| The Cathedral at Toledo |
I decided to postpone sightseeing until I had investigated the rough running of the bike and discovered that the footpeg mounting bolts had worked loose and the countershaft sprocket was floating freely in the shaft. It transpired that the garage that had fitted the new chain and sprockets had installed the keeper ring 180° out so that the chain was eating into the frame of the bike!!
Feeling very pleased with these easy repairs I set off into the town in good spirits to investigate.
Toledo was making the most of it's weapon-smithing heritage with shops full of reproduction swords and armour everywhere. Had a look at the numerous and excellent sights of the town and then bought some supplies and went back to the campsite as my head was only getting worse. Lying in the tent after some tablets I was disturbed by repeated fireworks going off close by so I set off to investigate and ended up crashing a wedding in the grounds of the ex-convent next door.
Back at the campsite I found what can only be described as Spanish Chavs having a disco / barbecue in the previously remote and empty corner that I had been occupying. This went on all night with up to 20 of them blundering around drinking, shouting, fighting and generally pissing me off. As the night got colder they abandoned their tents and got into their cars, with the engines running and stereos on banging out ethnically tinged Euro-Disco, with their kids whining constantly through the din. They managed to persevere with the torment until 6am when they bundled all their shit back in the cars and fucked off!! Headache not improved!!
During a conversation with a Dutch author and RTW traveller in the town I asked him what the high- and low-points of his trips were, to which he replied 'the freedom, but also the loneliness'!
Well timed words, like so many other conversations so far this trip. At least it has finally stopped raining!!
Day14 - 16/05/10
End: Fuencaliente, Spain
299km / 2725km (Day / Total)
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| Wetland Boardwalk at La Tablas de Daimiel |
I was glad to back on the bike in the baking heat and rode on the the hilltop fortress of Castillo Convento de Calatrave La Nueva, which was not only open but free to enter, although the horrible cobbled spiral track leading up to the car park did it's best to shake my bike into it's component pieces.
I rode on past a huge solar power station complex and circumnavigated a surprisingly ancient looking industrial area that had apparently been built since the satnav maps were last updated,three weeks ago!. As evening loomed I pressed on through open country (enlivened by a stop at an abandoned fuel station and motel with a very dead, rotting rottweiler?!?) until I dropped into the Valle de Alcudia, which looked for all the world like the serengeti, but with cattle rather than antelope! However the Satnav earned its crust and came up trumps with a cracking campsite at Fuencaliente when it became clear that I wasn't going to make Cordoba tonight.
Day15 - 17/05/10
End: Almodovar Del Rio, Spain
189km / 2914km (Day / Total)
End: Almodovar Del Rio, Spain
189km / 2914km (Day / Total)
I woke late again but the beautifully shady campsite ensured I wasn't dying of headstroke despite the 30°C heat and was on my way by 11am, although I stopped almost immediately to photograph half a dozen griffon vultures circling lazily just above me after I had disturbed their roost in a tree by the roadside. A quick wander round the Parque Nacional Sierra du Andujar (home to wolves and the spanish lynx) and then a push on to Cordoba.
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| Bell Tower and Palms at the Mezquita |
There were no obvious signs of life from the bike and given the heat I elected to push it quarter of a mile to the shade of some trees I had just passed and started to check the Tengai over. I soon discovered there was no fuel in the float bowl although I had just filled the tank! It transpired that when fitting the clutch cable I had dislodged the vacuum pipe to the fuel tap and once it was reconnected fuel flowed and the bike fire up.
After two breakdowns in quick succession I decided to find a campsite and ended up having a meal with a group of British waterskiers by the lake at La Brena, and then spent the evening drinking with three attractive Norwegian graphic designers! A good day, breakdowns not withstanding. Gibraltar tomorrow!
Day16 - 18/05/10
End: Linea de la Conception, Spain (Gibraltar)
335km / 3249km (Day / Total)
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| Mosque at the southern Tip of Gibraltar |
I have often heard it said that Gibraltar is like England in the fifties. Wrong. The only similarity is the language and a few English touches like M&S, English pubs and red phone boxes. It was crazy busy with about two million mopeds buzzing everywhere. I followed my nose and ended up at the southern-most point where, to my great surprise, the last building before Morocco (apart from the lighthouse) was a very smart white mosque! The roads up on the rock required a toll so I elected to leave it until tomorrow and retreated from the chaos to a nice verdant campsite in La Linea.
After a walk along the beach and a few snaps I stopped for a nice fish supper and several beers in a Spanish sea front eatery before I retired to the tent!
Day17 - 19/05/10
End: Linea de la Conception, Spain (Gibraltar)
61km / 3310km (Day / Total)
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| The Rock from the seafront at La Linea |
Barbary Apes everywhere and I saw one draw blood on a woman's leg when she tried to hide her food from it. Strangely shy about looking into the camera though so I have several photographs of them looking disdainfully into the distance and studiously ignoring me.
The official tourist office was no help whatsoever on the subject of visiting Morocco but I did some admin in a local Internet cafe and then hit the Pub for Pie and chips, washed down with beer! Feeling very content to be somewhere I can communicate again.
Day18 - 20/05/10
End: Linea de la Conception, Spain (Gibraltar)
78km / 3389km (Day / Total)
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| Ornamental Gardens in Gibraltar |
I spent the rest of the day doing more sightseeing around Gib, bought some oil, and then went back to the campsite and serviced the bike.
I am just not sure about the legitimacy of my ferry ticket due to communication breakdown with the seller but I will suck it and see - they'll either let me on or not!. Trying not to get too jittery - this feels very scary and a big step into the unknown!
Day19 - 21/05/10
End: Chefchaoen, Morocco
137km / 3526km (Day / Total)
What a crazy day!! It has been a real rollercoaster ride but probably the best day of the trip so far.
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| Valley view in the Rif |
Rory and Rachel were from Cambridge on a two week trip to do Morocco (it had taken me that long just to get here!!) and we had a great chat about the joys of motorcycling and our respective trips.
Nothing happened for well over an hour and long past the departure time (25 hours at least!!) and then in less than ten minutes flat the ferry was loaded and moving!!
The crossing took much longer than expected and was pretty rough and blowy but I sat outside watching Gibraltar recede and Morocco approach. I saddled up, said goodbye to R&R and was loose in Ceuta. Swiftly guided through the Border formalities by some professional looking unofficial helpers in brown djellabas for a handful of Euros and then I was in Morocco!! Easy!! What a faff over nothing. The Moroccan side of the border was a dump compared to the Spanish side and Ceuta was nothing to write home about!! It felt like the wild west and a little dangerous, particularly when an old Mercedes crossed the median strip in front of me and nailed a truck!
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| Blue painted walls in the Medina |
For reasons best not delved into I had come to Morocco armed only with a twelve year old and rather obscure guidebook and it led me to the Hotel Rif where a rather homely room with ensuite was aquired for the grand total of £15!! Once I had cooled down with a shower and some Ibuprofen I set off to see the town and it's famed blue medina. It was pleasantly touristy but not at all pushy and I was enticed into a rooftop restaurant for a fine meal of salad, lamb tagine, cake and mint tea, plus several bottles of the ubiquitous orange Fanta. When the bill for 50Dh arrived I nearly spat a lung!! 50Dh!!
It was then that my brain kicked into currency exchange mode and I realised it was a grand total of £4!! I had a laugh with the proprietor about it and apologised for my brain still working in Euros!
Back in the Hotel Rif it quietened down at about 10pm and I reflected on this excellent day, especially after all of my worries about it came to naught. Welcome to Morocco!!
Day20 - 22/05/10
End: Azrou, Morocco
325km / 3851km (Day / Total)
And I thought yesterday was a crazy day!!
Woke early and took full advantage of my shower cupboard (!!) before heading down to petit dejeuner, and thanked my excellent host Abdul who had given a five star service in a one star hotel!! Met two french dirt bikers on KTMs outside whilst I loaded up and then happened to stop at the same viewpoint as Rory and Rachel just outside town!! We had a chat about yesterdays experience and they seemed a little dazed by it all. They were headed for Ketama whereas I was going via Oazzane to Volubilis and Moulay Idris so we said farewell (but not for the last time . . ).
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| The bridge to the market |
Against my judgement I had to abandon my riding jacket; it was just cooking me alive. Once I had divested myself of it's bulk I was gloriously cool on the bike but wary of the potential for injury should I lay the bike down. I don't know what would constitute sensible gear for this kind of heat - in my enduro days I would just have worn a race shirt!
The main difference from Europe so far was the fact that EVERYONE wanted to talk to me, or at least check out my bike. Groups of teenagers would lovingly stroke it's flanks like some hotshit custom Harley, despite it being one of the nailiest old trailbikes ever to set out! They would point at the (admittedly ambitious) 160km/h on the speedo and whistle through their teeth in disbelief at the incredible numbers!
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| The Ruins of Volubilis with the Holy City of Moulay Idris in the background |
Back on the bike I rode into Meknes but the weather Gods were against me and the rain came in again so I pressed on to the town of Azrou where I was rapidly ensconced in the most excellent Hotel du Cedres, thanks to an utterly innaccurate recommendation from my new pal Hassan. The princely sum of £9 got a room with ensuite and toilet paper!! Supper was served on the veranda and was truly awesome. I opted for the Menu Touristique for maximum calorific intake! A soup starter, followed by a fish course of three breaded fillets then a truly delicious Steak Frites and topped off with Creme Caramel. Not exactly traditional Morrocan Fare but every course was exquisite and with the unavoidable lemon fizz a wallet bursting £7.80!!
It was a Saturday and the whole town seemed to be out enjoying themselves wlking and socialising, clogging ervy road with pedestrians, and focused around a rocky pinnacle literally crowned with . . . well, a crown! After a walk about I returned to the Hotel for my pre-arranged drink with Hassan but he was nowhere to be found!
I was concerned that I was spending money like water but a quick tot up of the remaining dirhams indicates that Morocco has so far cost me less than £40 all in!! Bonus!!
Day21 - 23/05/10
End: Midelt, Morocco
240km / 4091km (Day / Total)
I awoke to a lovely warm morning and after a
relaxed breakfast I reclaimed my bike from the other side of the square and
loaded up. Upset the receptionist by trying to pay with a Dh200 note and then
took a quick walk up to the crown on the rock outcrop overlooking the plaza.
Unfortunately I had discovered where al those revellers of last night had opted
to defecate with human turds literally and liberally covering the trail up to
the top.
A quick fuel stop and then up towards the cedar
forests and the Gouraud Cedar. After several failed attempts and a few miles
off road I encoutered a french hippy who had apparently been at the first Isle
of Wight festival back in 1970 who pointed me in the right direction.
Unfortunately the cedar, once I had found it , was dead! Again my 10 year old
guidebook works its magic.
Moving onwards along the route touristique du
cedres I found an off road track lined with white rocks which led me miles out
into the forest. I stopped to ask directions of a passing shepherd and realised
that we were being watched by dozens or barbary apes; much less bold than those
on Gibraltar. I tempted them to approach by throwing some apples out which they
seemed to like. A very magical experience to see them so close in their natural
habitat.
Back on the bike I stopped to give some fuel to a
stranded moped rider which was fortuitous as he then stopped me when my bike
just ground to a halt some miles later on. No electrics so it was a stripdown
to access the battery and loom. No visible issues but when re-assembled it
seemed to work properly again. I was destined to see this particular gremlin
again!
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| Dream on boys. . . |
The road south gradually climbed into the mountains
through lovely and varied terrain culminating at a lovely alpine meadow where I
stopped to extract a wasp from my shirt. As I hopped and swatted merrily a
yound lad followed by his younger brother and mother appeared from a makeshift
hut just below the road. They were very pleased to have a sit on the bike and I
gave them 10Dh each and a wafer biscuit. Their home was made from logs turf and
plastic fertiliser bags and I felt conspicuously wealthy. Should I give
something? Would it really make any difference? Fortunately a brand new
moroccan registered landcruiser drove past to add a bit of perspective. Sobering
never the less. But what a life so close to Europe.
Riding down into the first really desertified
terrain I rolled into Midelt just as the sun was setting. Gained a new best
friend and guide / fixer in Kasseem who seemed a little false from the off but
he helped me find a hotel, a place to store the bike, somewhere to eat and
cackhandedly made me mint tea.
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| Desert near Midelt with Middle Atlas in the distance |
Of course I was invited to see his carpet shop and
despite my protestations that didn't want to buy one he set to with a
vengeance. His enthusiasm was shortlived after I countered his price of £400
with £15! I don't think he had encountered such crass stingyness before and was
furious, despite his previous assertion that there was no obligation and he
would respect whatever offer I made. His brother was failing to hide his
sniggers over 'the master salesman' drawing a blank and I was unceremoniously
ejected into the darkened street.
Fortunately I had made sure I knew the way back to
the hotel but it left a bad taste all the same. And Morocco had been so
fabulous until this point. All dreams must die.
Day22 - 24/05/10
End: Erg Chebbi, Morocco
269km / 4360km (Day / Total)
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| Ziz Gorge meanders |
Slept badly mulling over who was more stupid;
Kasseem or I. Tipped the lad who helped me locate the garage where my bike was
stored but fuck all for the proprietor who was clearly in cahoots with Kasseem.
A mate of Kasseems sidled up and tried to sell me an ammonite for my brother
but I great delight in pointing out that my brother is dead and thus didn't
have much use for one. Midelt - the town of pushy salesmen. Actually the
fossils were very nice but I was still too pissed of at Kasseem to entertain
any more hard sells.
I rescued a tortoise from the road and moved it to
the verge where it defecated and then buried itself under a bush. No gratitude.
The road initially was dull winding tarmac up onto
another plateau but soon opened out into real desert and the Ziz gorge. The
river Ziz flows out into the desert and then dissappears into the sand, never
reaching a body of water. The trail was spectatcular and I stopped numerous
times for pictures but as it was the middle of the day the sun was overhead and
not ideal. I also saw a genuine camel train crossing one of the open plains but
didn't stop as I assumed it would be the first of many. Nope! A missed
opportunity.
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| Erb Chebbi at Sundown |
In addition the heat was unbearable. The map showed
two panoramic views but the terrain was so stark and the sun so strong I just
had to push on. The final stretch from Erachidia to Erfoud was like riding with
your head in an oven. It was cooler with the visor down to keep the heat out. I
have never experienced heat like it. Certainly over 40 degrees .
After a 7km dash across a plain of loose dusty stones
towards the distant dunes I arrived at the Kasbah Erg Chebbi. Showered to cool
myself down before hitting the dunes at sundown to takes some pics then back
for a lovely tagine then another shower.
I lay on my bed sweltering, stark naked with all of the windows open and
was still drenched in sweat. WIth hindsight a night out in the dunes would
doubtless have been much more pleasant and as memorable but in a nicer way.
Back to the mountains tomorrow. This is just too hot.
Day23 - 25/05/10
End: Boulmaine Dades, Morocco
372km / 4742km (Day / Total)
After, not surprisingly, an appalling nights sleep
I was up before sunup to do the dunes again in the morning light. Walked about
1km into the dunes but was concerned about getting lost so tried to stay in
sight of the hotel. Said goodbye to the french off roaders on BMWs doing the
piste to Zagora and set off towards the Todra gorge.
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| The last tree |
Allowed myself to be talked into doing some one a favour and taking emergency
water to Ruetarras as their 'canalisation' wasn't working (Hard to believe I
know but it was just a sales tactic! However they were very nice folks and not
pushy)
After chasing some kind of mad yellow 'roadrunner'
lizard on its back legs along the road I stopped just outside Tinehir to take a
photo when familiar and madly waving
couple on a BMW roared past. I caught up with them a little was down the road
and it was only at this point that I actually remembered to properly introduce
myself. The road to the gorge was in poor condition and I wondered how they
fared two up with way more luggage.
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| Overhung Hotel at Todra Gorge |
The Todra gorge itself was very spectacular with a
hotel built right under the huge overhanging lip of the gorge. It was the
busiest place that I had been to so far with a good smattering of tourists. I
rode on through and up towards Agoudal. Kasseem has said that the road was good
al the way but I soon ran out of tarmac on the steepest section and decided
that I would return the way that I had come. I had bought bon bons to give to
any begging kids which worked a treat rather than money. But the best was a
sweet little girl who refused any sweets and just walked off carrying the
hugest school bag, despite being a good 7km from the nearest village.
On the way back down I met a Czech biker on a KTM
990 Adventure who was on a low budget two week trip and was wild camping
everywhere due to spending 70% more on fuel that I was.
In Boulmane Dades I selected the cheapest hotel
from my ancient guidebook only to find it had gone upmarket at 300Dh! Had a
lovely evening eating and chilling on the terrace, watching the geckos swarm
round snaffling up the bugs and huge and ridiculously speedy ants. My faith in
Moroccan friendliness and integrity has returned; another great day.
Day24 - 26/05/10
End: Ait-Benhaddou, Morocco
258km / 5000km (Day / Total)
Up bright and early and into town to get some cash
from the bank as there was no cashpoint. Got a ticket as you would at the deli
counter and waited my turn but they came up trumps.
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| Morocco's answer to the GrandCanyon - Dades Gorge |
Wasn't impressed by the first 15km of the Gorge
road but after passing R&R going in the opposite direction on some natty
switchbacks it improved massively, getting better and better before culminating
in Morocco's answer to the grand canyon. Truly awesome and ridiculously quiet.
None of the tourists that I saw at Todra. I almost had the road to myself. Lots
of stops but again the tarmac ran out before Agoudal so I turned about and headed
back down.
On the road to Skoura the wind was incredible. It
was like being sandblasted. The poor Kawasaki was struggling to hit 50mph and
the oil was getting burned as the motor worked hard. It was like a very down at
heel strip mall for 50km and I resorted to counting types of cars to take my
mind off the unpleasantness of the ride. I stopped at Skoura and had a Fanta in
a cafe but it was a very insular place and the only person who engaged with me
at all was a lovely young woman who rather boldly gave me a huge yet shy smile.
Eventually I stopped at a lake and just took my
frustration out by sending the most expletive laden texts and shouting at the
incessant wind.
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| Desert, lake and sand blasting equipment! |
I stopped at the worlds shittiest internet cafe at
Ouazzazate before heading out to Ait Benhaddou. I'd had enough and everything
just looking dull and bleak and hot.
Found the least bad hotel at Ait Benhaddou and then set off to see the
Kasbah.
A young lad
of about twelve wanted to be my guide despite my protestations, asking
for a ludicrous 100Dh (£8). Eventually He agreed to guide me for 30 minutes for
40Dh but was less than impressed when he tried to stop after only ten. I made
him lead me all over the town, getting my moneys worth until he was fed up and
I had got what was agreed. What a grumpy old bastard!! To be fair I would not
have found the places that he showed me without assistance but I just wanted a
little bit of payback for the endless pestering, hawking and aggravation.
I went back to the hotel in a much better mood and
had another lovely tagine on the terrace, watching the sun go down over the
hills.
Day25 - 27/05/10
End: Marrakesh, Morocco
246km / 5246km (Day / Total)
Today has just battered my senses! Awesome in every
sense of the word. I barely know where to begin. Perhaps the most astonishing
day of my life; certainly this trip!
Woke early and had an excellent breakfast, feeling
much better than yesterday. Decided to revisit the kasbah in the sunshine and
daylight. As i crossed the stepping stones to the entrance I saw a line on
young woiuld be guides gathered outside, including my lad from yesterday. As
soon as he saw me he and al his mates turned their backs on me! Hilarious.
That's what you get for pestering me to take a guide I didn't want.
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| Ait Benhaddou in the pleasant light of morning |
As I wandered the higgledy-piggledy town I was
invited into one of the houses to have a look round and introduced to the
owners daughter. Still time for that moroccan bride everyone has been joshing
me about but I decided against it, even in jest!!
Back on the bike and heading for another run down
Kasbah atTamedakte. From the outside the crumbling mud walls were nothing
special but inside ti was surprisingly nice with whitewashed walls and a tiled
court with a fountain. Was watched by the owners young son from under an
upturned washing basket but I got the biggest cheeky smile. Shortchanged my
bike watcher as I had run out of dirham coins so I sent him off with £1
instead.
On the road north I stopped for a drink and made
the acquaintance of a French couple on Honda XR250s. They had hired the bikes
and were having a great time but invited me to visit When I was back in France.
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| View from the Glauoi palace at Telouet |
Next stop was Telouet and as I parked in the
surprisingly busy visit I picked up an idiosyncratic guide who looked like a
Jamaican hippy. His name was Jawad and he offered to let me decide what his
tour was worth - in fact it was excellent and he was very knowledgeable and spoke
good English.
The palace itself in fact dated only from 1942 and
from the outside it looked very run down. Inside though it was still impressive
enough to justify its palace status. It had been owned by the powerful El
Glauoi family back in the colonial era but they had fallen out of favour after
some kind of revolutionary activity and it had fallen into disrepair. Long
overdue repairs were being made and hopefully it's faded glory would get a bit
of a buff.
Back in the village I was introduced to all sorts
of folks and I got invited to stay once the other tourists had gone back to
their hotels in Marrakesh. There was a really nice vibe and I was tempted. However,
it was starting to get late and I still had to traverse the Tizi-n-tichka pass
to get to Marrakesh myself. In retrospect I should have stayed just for the
experience but I was on a roll.
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| Tizi-n-Tichka pass - Awewome ride!! |
The pass was awesome - one of the most phenomenal
rides of my life. Only a few stops as the riding was just so engaging. I was
totally stoked and after an ongoing 'race' with a landcruiser who didn't like
being overtaken by a bike (which he probably assumed was 125cc - Tough luck
loser!!).
I eventually rolled into Marrakesh as the sun was
starting to set. I had tried to swot a route from the guidebook but I actually
got swept down into the medina itself and ended up riding an overheating
Kwacker along alleys packed with mopeds, donkeys and pedestrians in a frenzy of
colour and activity. I pulled over to check the map and was accosted by a man
who shouted ' You want big square - come!' and proceeded to sprint off through
the crowds. I set off behind him and he ran for what seemed like forever but in
reality was probably only ten minutes, until I saw the tower of the Koutoubia
mosque. I was tempted to gun the throttle and leave him for dust but after his
sterling efforts I couldn't be so mean. I pulled over as my guide lay half in
the gutter and half on the pavement, on the verge of a heart attack, much to
the amusement of the bystanders
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| Koutoubia Mosque at Dusk |
I was soon ensconced in a hotel near the
Jema-el-faa and after photographing the mosque I hit the square as night fell
and checked out the various diversions. Cobras, musicians, dancers and freaks.
I had some food and then took a wander down dome of the sidestreets. Another
helpful young guide offered, despite my protestations, to show me the way back
to the square as I was obviously lost. He then tried to lead me deeper into the
maze of streets where I genuinely would have been. However, he was left with a
little egg on his face when I ignored him and, going the opposite direction,
walked straight back into the square.
Unfortunately I had not noted either the name, the
appearance or even the specific location of my hotel so I had a challenging
half an hour as I tried various wrong buildings and offices, getting a mixture
of reactions from security guards and families having dinner; all with many
apologies. Eventually I stumbled on the right place but there is some kind of
lesson to be learned there!!! What a phenomenal day. Any one of the experiences
today would have been the highlight of a month back home. Even this morning
seems like weeks ago.
Day26 - 28/05/10
End: Afourer, Morocco
300km / 5546km (Day / Total)
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| Tiled court in the Bahia Palace |
Tempted to do another night but this hotel was not
worth another stay so I headed out to check out the sights of Marrakesh. My
dodgy guidebook failed to get me swiftly to the Saadian Tombs but instead I followed
a party of schoolkids as I assumed they would be doing something worthwhile.
Too busy to really enjoy so I was off again to the Bahia Palace, pausing only
to direct some female tourists who clearly thought I was going to try and sell
them something.
The palace was beautiful if a little run down in
places and it is interesting how the moorish architecture in Tamedakte and
Telouet, the tombs and now here have just got a bit more superlative each time.
If I had done any of these in a different order the impact would have been
lost. Each was just the higher up the awesomeness scale than the previous one.
Heading out of the city the traffic was fairly
minimal and not that chaotic. Feeling rough after my poor nights sleep so after
a while I stopped for yet another tagine, before heading again for Ouzoud
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| Taking the plunge at Ouzoud |
On arrival I parked up and then collected an
'official' guide who promptly led me off into the wilds to get me lost to
ensure that I retained his services to actually find my way back to the falls.
Not as fun as Jawad but professional. The falls were stunning, with a permanent
rainbow laying over them in the afternoon light. I took a ride in the local
equivalent of the mid of the mist which was little better than a raft and then
headed off once more.
The roads down to Afourer were magnificent but I
was feeling drained. When I arrived the hotel referred to by the michelin map
was a big expensive 4* touristy place which I was not really keen on but I was
just so bushed. After haggling the price down to 790Dh (£64) Itook it, mainly
as the room had a bath which I promptly used. Bliss.
Dinner in the hotel restaurant was expensive and
the ambience was horrid, catering to Mercedes cossetted French tourists come to
look at (but not interact with) Morocco. Not a high point of my trip!!
Day27 - 29/05/10
End: Kenitra, Morocco
400km / 5946km (Day / Total)
In the morning all the French arseholes had been
chauffered off to look at Morocco from a safe distance so I had a relaxed and
pleasant breakfast. No definite plan today so I will just head towards Lixus.
.JPG) |
| Wiggles |
I cruised the main road back towards Kenifra where
I stopped for refreshments and then went cross country towards Kenitra on what
the map showed as a straight route but which was in truth the most twisty road
so far. The town of Aguelmous wasn't even on the map but I had to make my way
through a street market with an unfriendly vibe and out of town through miles of
landscape literally covered with empty plastic bottles in their millions. I
have never seen such a ruined landscape and it definitely made me think about
the benefits of recycling and the mountains of unwanted plastics littering the
world.
The elevations were not great (less than 1000m) but
up and down in a relentless series of gritty hairpins. I have never misread so
many corners in my life!!
After encounters with horrendously noisy guinea
fowl and suicidally deranged dogs coming out of nowhere half way round a
hairpin I rolled across fertile plains until I arrived at Kenitra. Rather than
the charming moroccan coastal town I was expecting it was a nasty french
feeling port but on the way out of town I came across a weird resort
hotel with rooms like thatched conical huts. They had beer, baths and a pool,
as well as musical entertainment. Made the mistake of asking for a ham pizza
(those moslems!!) and gave the manager a panic when my tab ran over 250Dh.
Ceauta tomorrow so this will be my last night in Morocco!! What an experience
it has been.
Day28 - 30/05/10
End: Linea de la Conception, Spain (Gibraltar)
351km / 6297km (Day / Total)
Woke after some very weird dreams I had a Sunday
lie in. At A dodgy rumble and a dash back to the room for my first 'loose stool' event of the
trip. luckily it was a one-time thing so after another shower I was on my way.
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| View of Larache from Lixus |
After negotiating a horrendous traffic jam in
Larache I headed across to Lixus beach and promptly bogged the bike down in
deep dry sand. Much sweating and swearing later I had it free and rode back up
the road to see a uniformed security guard stood under a tree. He turned out to
be the site security officer and it seemed I had found the only moroccan who
spoke less french than I did!! He led me round the site and explaind that he
had been employed after the best mosaic here had been vandalised and
subsequently buried again for its own protection. His father was caretaker of
the site so it was a family affair but they were nice, genuine people and I
wished them well.
Before long I had found the bypass around Tetouan
and I was astonished by how nice it looked but that was nothing compared to
Fnideq! What had seemed like a ramshackle and chaotic shithole when I came
through ten days ago now looked tidy, kempt and prosperously modern. They had
even employed some street sweepers since I was here and it genuinely looked
like a different town. Clearly it was just the contrast with the other towns
that I had seem but it was a stunning transformation all the same.
 |
| Heading Home! |
Crossing into Ceuta was a simple process without
much help from the touts and after purchasing a ferry ticket from a roadside
booth I was making the crossing in much better conditions than coming out.
Before long I has booked in at the campsite, set up
my tent, and was crossing the campsite when a fellow camper said 'Hola' and
asked if I used to attend Brockenhurst College? It turned out to a guy called
James McClellan who was a friend of friends from way back. He had been cycling
round Europe for the last year and had just ended up in Gibraltar. We had a
great chat about all sorts, and people that we knew before being joined by some
other campers. Franglais was spoken, wines were drunk and before I knew it
midnight had arrived and I retired to my tent.
It is amazing how much this tent in this place
feels like home. A hard day today but ultimately a good one. Rest day tomorrow
and Gibraltar's best full English.
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