The Start of the Long Way Home.....

Evidence of Morocco's drive to improve the infrastructure in rural areas manifested itself in the improved access to FBJ reducing the piste to around 3 miles and judging by the drain pipes lying around further improvements are in the pipeli.......

 

Thus I was soon out on to a surfaced road that last time I was here was a rough track to various small hamlets. It climbed to a spot above the roaring Atlantic where I saw two lorries releasing their cargoes of racing pigeons which reminded me of a ringed bird that had been hopping about at the top of the Tizzi n'Test last week. In the distance lonely Foum Assaka was partially shrouded in the sea mist that rolls in most days but burns off as the sun heats things up and I descended at speed down the new road that only a few years ago had been a decidedly tricky track. Out at the beach the skeletal remains of abandoned houses gave an almost forlorn air and I was sorry to see that the small cafe we had used before was locked up and swept by sand. I parked up and walked south passing some very rough huts of plastic and fishing nets again half buried in the sands before returning and walking up to Le Rayon Vert which was as rustic and cute a set up you could wish for. A sea terrace, brightly decorated rooms and a lovely dining and lounge area made this a place to come back to but this time I only stopped for tea before returning along the dusty access track. Roaring engines announced the arrival of a number of Belgian off road karters, all travelling at a dangerous speed and one appearing round a corner on two wheels and requiring a quick avoidance manoeuvre by yours truly - they received an appropriate international sign language rebuke.

I decided to try and return via the valley floor to FBJ and soon afterwards met the trekking group and before long was in a terrific valley with an old kasbha, cemetery and associated building and some remarkable geology. However after a couple of miles the valley became too rough with deep channels and thick if stunted tree growth so I followed the Sat Map's indicated track up and out for a couple of miles uphill before reaching a junction where another track headed south and mostly downhill back to the ruined fort. Here I spotted a lovely owl at sunset and watched the shepherds run their flocks in to the safety of the old fort's semi ruined stables for the night - I'm not sure what predators lurk round here, perhaps it's just to stop them roaming too far whilst the shepherds rest up after what must be long hot days in this desolate landscape.

 

As I had expected the Belgians seen earlier and quite a few more were parked up at the site and seemed to be part of a rally with a large 4x4 support truck and a medical Landcruiser. It was good business for the site and they were consuming plenty of food and booze but being a) Ramadan and b) a country where alcohol is not consumed by the locals I felt this, plus their tearing up of the landscape oblivious to the signs of nature I quietly observe was perhaps not the way tourism should be going. The beauty and silence of the dunes at Merzouga are often shattered by idiots on dirt bikes and 4x4's but hey as long as your Insta feed is cool so what eh ......

A large MAN 4x4 truck rolled in with a young German family but otherwise I had the camping to myself and gave a young troubled looking lad, who appeared from a shelter out in the scrub that I thought was abandoned, some water, an orange and bread which he squatted some distance away behind my van to consume. I later realised this was to remain hidden from others as during Ramadan fasting is supposed to be until sunset and covers food, water and smoking.

Next day the Belgians departed in a haze of dust and noise and as I went over to pay I was disgusted by the amount of breakfast they had left untouched and which would almost certainly go to waste. Anyway I paid up - note to self their bottled water was expensive at 10 dirhams per 1.5 litre - later at a small shop 5l was only 11 dirham but I do appreciate they have a living to make and costs to cover.

Taking the new road past Foum Assaka led me north towards Sidi Ifni a large fishing port and harbour with dozens of the small traditional boats moored up. The town is an odd mix of elegant new homes, rough apartment blocks and smart civic buildings but I passed through and enjoyed the coastal scenery as the mist had burnt off. I spotted a rough track down to a large flat area on the cliffs and decided it would be a great place to stay the afternoon and night so parked up with two live in lorries nearby. It was a stunning spot with several stray but friendly dogs hanging around - these are looked after by a really nice young guy who lives in a shack and asked just £2 for the stopover - we had a good chat as the surf rolled in below us. I then walked down a steep path to the beach where a few simple huts provide what must be a remarkable option to stay the night arriving by quad or on foot.

 

A few hundred yards south was a remarkable sea arch which I walked down to and then through after judging the waves. On the far side a remarkable dwelling was  tucked under the cliff at sea level - extremely vulnerable during the storms but an amazing place.

Back at the van it was a memorable night before the following day I headed inland to Tiznit which I recognised as a place we had explored before with an extensive souk, medina and jewellery quarter. I filled up with Shell's fancy diesel at £1.10 a litre and noted the van's continuing MPG in the high forties before taking the high back road to Tafraoute well north of the usual R104 and Col de Kerdous. I had planned to stay at the Painted Rocks a few miles out of town but there were signs indicating this is no longer tolerated, no doubt due to poor behaviour and misuse as we had seen large numbers staying for lengthy periods previously. Thus I was content with exploring and photographing the remarkable rocks which recently saw a new coat of paint although already graffiti is appearing - honestly....

 

Down in town I saw a number of vans parked up in the palmery so pulled off the road and settled in at the edge near more remarkable rocks. Later on a lad came to collect 15 dirhams - about £2 and I walked in to town to get some bottled water as my tank contained the slightly undrinkable FBJ water.

I had come to realise that during Ramadam things are much quieter here - perhaps like a 70's Sunday in the UK with businesses opening later, cafes and restaurants hardly at all other than to cater for tourists and then at sundown - 7pm - everything closing as people head home to break fast with their families

Food shops and souks are still open and the various workshops, garages and so on still trade but the roads are quieter and it is generally less frenetic.

After a quiet night an old guy came pedalling round with bread and patisseries followed by a 4X4 with a 1000 litre IBC tank on the back with drinking water. Then separately two garage vans turned up with their business cards - I love the entrepreneurial flare that these people display and recognised one as the workshop in town that many camper vans and lorries head to for repairs or resprays. Later I walked down to see the usual cluster of foreign vehicles awaiting attention before heading back for another quiet night having seen the planetary alignment in the night sky

The hot, high and dramatic ranges of the Souss Massa Draa took me via Ighrem to Talioiune where I greeted Ali at Camping Des Etoiles once more, parked up and then walked in to town to get my phone topped up. Again it was a different less vibrant atmosphere but fascinating nevertheless. In view of Ramadan I have decided to delay my planned 5 day trek in the Toubkal area as I would not feel comfortable eating or drinking during the day whilst guides abstain and the opportunities for refreshments and shared meals with host families would be lessened so I hope to arrive in the area as Ramadan finishes and get in to the mountains at the end of April. Thus for the next three weeks I will head in to other hills as down on the plains temperatures are in the high thirties which rather limits activities. I gave Ali some headphones for his radio as a food gift would not have been very sensitive and then followed a superb road south through the SMD via Tisnassemine with empty roads, wild camels and stunning mountain ranges. A road east turned to gravel after 20 miles so I turned back and dropped towards Tata arriving on the N12 just north of the Algerian border. I turned east and soon spotted a place for the night which apart from a steep drop off which might deter longer vans from joining me made for a brilliant park up. The deeply carved mud canyons were rock solid but only a month ago the area had seen unusually biblical downpours which explains the good covering of greenery and healthy looking trees dotted around the otherwise desolate landscape. The night sky and quiet road in splendid isolation made for a memorable stay.

 

Then it was away to Foum Zguid where I had stayed perhaps a decade ago and then North once more before a right turn brought me to an old favourite Ferme Maison Tansifft at Agdz where I parked amongst the palm trees and have sat here today keeping cool and updating the blog. The roof sensor on the van is reading 66 C whilst inside is a more bearable 35, insulation works both ways !! Said and his crew are sitting in the shade, I'm not sure I could wait until sunset for even just water and am very grateful that the fridge is providing ice cold water on demand. Food on the other hand would be OK probably as in this heat I have little appetite which should help with my ongoing efforts to lose weight, 5kg at the last count due largely to a 10/14 eating regime.

 

 Onward plans are to head to Nekob and try to take a road north via Ikniounn over the Djebel Saghra otherwise I'll drop back to Camp Serdrar south of Tazzarine for a few days before heading north and trying the road beyond the Dades Gorge via Msemrir and through to Imilchil - that's the one where we met a German cyclist but were defeated by snow which I hope has long gone. Time at Imilchil will be well, a chill as it's high up and allow me to get back on the bike again.

 Extra piccies here.

Old Favourites : New Adventures...

Dropping down the Dades we turned east towards Boumalne and decided that a driveable road over the Djebel Sarhro may not exist so headed on to Tinghir and the remote lonely road to Alnif. Then a turn west again brought us to Nekob with its many fine kasbahs. A few kilometres down a gravel track brought us to the calm of the camping at Auberge Assou run by a French woman and her Moroccan husband who brought us tea in the shady courtyard of their family home. There were a few others staying - two large French vans had large quads on trailers and there were a couple of off road trucks but it is a large compound with plenty of room.

We cycled north along the newly laid road that was being finished off and passed the large stone crushing plant creating a racket in a haze of dust before climbing for a superb view north to the Sarhro range and a valley I had cycled through a few years ago.

Next day we rode in to the village and enjoyed picking our way through the backstreets passing the many kasbahs and meeting friendly kids who waved and smiled before stopping in town for a well earned fresh orange juice and watching the world go by. This included a group of French bikers on GS1200s who looked somewhat hot and bothered in temperatures around the mid thirties.

Returning to Tazzarine we drove south for a few miles and then turned off for Camp Serdrar a few miles down another dusty track. This is again popular with the French quadding enthusiasts and we were made very welcome by Ibrahim who recognised me and the van from 4 years ago. We discussed the hardships they had faced during Covid lockdown, ordered bread for the following day and then sat in the shade of the raised tailgate on a scorching afternoon interrupted only by a French guy who's loud booming voice was annoying most others. His sour faced wife also monopolised the only working washing machine and used the two hour cycle each time so it was mid evening by the time we got our load in but in the heat the bedding was still dry by bedtime!

 

Next day we rode out past a few camels to the road and then took the dirt track out to the rock carvings at Ait Ouazik. It was in a far better condition than my first visit so the 12 miles soon passed with various locals on mopeds or trishaws waving as we dropped down a palm lined gorge. In the village I tried to mend a young lad's front brake but really he needed a new cable but despite this he and a few friends enthusiastically rode with us up to the carvings. They enjoyed a race and left us alone to walk up to the small shed where a friendly guy showed us round and chatted about the developing agriculture in the region. Then it was a steady ride back to the road and a juice break in the quiet filling station. The two attendants then invited us to share their lunch of fried meat and bread - yet another display of the genuine friendship and hospitality we have experienced across Morocco.

Back at Serdrar we had ordered a meal on the terrace and enjoyed a tagine and brochettes in the shade as a group of dusty bikers settled in to the large Berber style tents available.

We dropped down to Zagora in the Draa Valley and picked up some food before following the palm filled valley to Agdz and staying at another lovely site I had used before : Ferme Maison Tanssift, again run by a Moroccan/French couple. Although Corinne was away Said remembered me and we were soon parked up alongside the vegetables growing under the palm trees. It was again very hot so we knew the panel would provide for all our power needs and again used the propped up tailgate to provide shade. Our gas bottle needed changing - at less than a pound a refill we are quite blase about usage although its really mostly for the fridge and a shower as we are cooking far less preferring to enjoy salads, cheese, nuts and the delicious round breads at a couple of pence each.

 

We cycled the couple of miles in to town that evening to enjoy walking round the busy streets and were hailed by a guy who heard our English voices. He claimed to be going to the UK later this year and wanted me to draw him a map showing London, Manchester etc as he was going as part of an initiative to reduce eye conditions in the local population caused by the bright sun and dusty air. Now I am not new to this amazing country and sure enough we were ushered in to his shop for tea whilst I roughed out the basics of the UK geography. Then predictably a carpet appeared and the sales patter began but my usual line of living full time in a small van put paid to that. Then jewelery was produced and after some good natured haggling we left with an intricately engraved bracelet and a host of memories. We had been inside a long time and were surprised to see it almost dark which made the return ride through the bustling main street quite an experience.

Next day we rode back in and then climbed for a view over the palmeries before dropping in to them and randomly exploring the shady sandy tracks with women washing clothes and rugs in the clear water channels, working in the tiny fields or loading donkeys with cut vegetation to feed livestock back home. It is a unique experience to explore like this and the bikes are the perfect form of transport giving us a chance to meet people and cover a fair distance. We climbed the steep track up to the huge abandonned ksar at Tamnougalt and explored its extensive remains - all slowly collpasing as unless pise is regularly repaired heavy rains will destroy it all. Said had told us that many houses had collapsed after recent unusually heavy rains and showed us pictures of damaging flooding out on the coast. From the ksar we dropped down to another which has been maintained but felt the two 'guides' were a bit pushy so left it for another time and sought a much needed and heavily sweetened tea at a small restaurant further along the road.

Back at the site we got talking to a French couple camping out of their Fiat Pand 4x4 who had shipped their motorhome to South America from Cyprus with Grimaldi Lines, travelling with the cargo vessel as passengers for the full five weeks which they said was amazing. It certainly gave me food for thought as I really enjoyed my brief visit there in 2015.

Leaving Agdz we climbed the remarkable Tizi n'Tinififft pass with stunning mountain geology and then dropped to Ouarzazate and then headed east again to Skoura for the road north to Toundoute where we stayed at Chez Amoudou, a small family run park up with room for perhaps 6/8 vans on their yard. The son Mahfoud spoke very good English and was great to talk to and we decided a couple of nights would be well worth it. We had tea in their guest rest area and then set off on an evening ride following a dirt track being upgraded in to the hills - we could ride some of the new sections so eventually arrived at a view point over a beautiful valley with ksars, green fields and neat terracing. An older woman struggled up a narrow path in worn out shoes with a toddler on her back leaving us feeling very humbled as we returned mostly downhill at speed for a remarkable sunset.

 

The following day was market day in the village so we rode up, left the bikes unlocked near a small cafe and threw ourselves in to the bustle of the vibrant scene. The quality and quantity of fruit and veg at rock bottom prices never ceases to amaze and the dozens of stalls sold everything you could wish for. Two blacksmiths had set up their tools alongside two charcoal pits that were roaring away and were repairing or producing hand tools under a shady canopy. Impossibly overladen straw lorries were in one corner, a livestock auction in the other and poultry in cages were being dispatched on demand in another section. We enjoyed it all immensely and after a couple of hours sat for tea watching the vans and cars slowly dispersing with all manner of goods and passengers strapped to the roofs.

Back at the camping we met a Dutch couple who had been in Morocco just before Covid, they had flown home for a few days leaving their van at Casablanca airport and then were unable to return for 8 months. Apart from a green and smelly fridge all was well though and the airport had cut them a fair deal. They had shipped their van to Canada a few years back and toured North America extensively and had a MAN truck based camper on order back in the Netherlands for future trips.

Remarkably the French Panda driving couple turned up which made for entertaining conversation, it's great to meet similar minded people and share experiences. Mahfoud's sister produced fresh bread each morning and as we were about to leave after two nights invited us to have a meal later that day so we decided to stay and rode back in to the village and out through a lonely valley towards a distant village. I stopped at a small shop offering photo copying and other services and got my phone topped up for the next two months before we took a side track to another remote village. Here we were amused by the sight of a packed sheep lorry with the sheep dog also jammed in by the door grille looking slightly bemused.

Our couscous and chicken meal, shared with the Dutch couple was excellent but far too much for us all to finish and Mahfoud enjoyed improving his English by answering our many questions - he was a lovely guy and I hope his plans to expand the business work out. 

To work off our meal we rode in to another village, explored the kasbahs again to the delight of the local kids and then rode back against a stiff headwind after watching a lumbering straw lorry negotiate the narrow twisting streets.

Goodbyes were said the following day as we returned to the N9 and soon took the side road to Telouet, observing, but not stopping at, the popular kasbah of Ait Benhaddou. The road climbed steadily through numerous villages in the green valley before emerging on a high plateau where we pulled off next to a phone mast to have lunch. Before long a woman appeared as if from nowhere and wanted us to look at a few simple wares she was selling - a beautiful amethyst geode really caught my eye and at only 100 dirhams (£8) was an absolute bargain. I had no intention of bartering and on seeing her worn out shoes we gave her two pairs of flip flops we had brought from the Langdale Spa in December - the sheer contrast in our fortunes can be very hard to square but we give what we can and hope that as Morocco emerges in to a new economy and social structure life will improve for all.

 

At Telouet we turned off the main road to visit the 3 old kasbahs and were directed to a parking spot by a guy who then, as is often the case, wanted to be our guide 'at no cost'. He was nice enough and led us around the best preserved kasbah with some amazing decorations to equal Granada's Alhambra and great views across the valley. He took us round the outside and then to a small shed where three or four women were mixing and flattening out dough and then baking it quickly in a wood fired oven that was keeping the shack very cosy. They were very friendly and offered us some to try but as I had no small change we couldn't really buy any which was a shame. Back at the van where we had considered staying for the night our 'guide' invited in to his adjacent carpet shop, as expected but we declined and also decided not to stay as it was a dusty and steeply sloping spot so we gave him a few quid for his time and left to check out a sign to camping we had seen earlier.

The track was being improved and a huge bulldozer was levelling out the earth but I doubted we would get through so we returned to Telouet and continued on towards the famous Tizi n'Tichka pass. A small hotel provided overnight parking on a level gravel yard above the river so we stopped for the night with a Dutch couple arriving later. We didn't use the facilities but certainly the rooms looked well decorated and comfortable even if the owner seemed a bit taciturn which is unusual here.

We left in glorious sunshine and turned right on the N9 for a couple of miles to reach the pass at 7,200' before turning back south and at Agouim after a lot of descent and many sections undergoing improvements turned west on a minor road to Sour and eventually the village of Toubkal which sat on the southern aspects of the eponymous summit. We had met a young man pushing his moped that had run out of fuel so were able to give him some and a dash of 2 stroke to get him on his way - he would have had a job telling that tale to his mates.

We stopped for lunch above a beekeepers travelling encampment before heading along to the N10 during which I realised this was a road I had tried to use in the other direction a few years ago but had been thwarted by an enormous rockfall and landslide.

Passing through Aoulouz a diversion took us through the crazy back streets before we reached Taliouine, the centre for saffron production in Morocco. I had stayed at a campground there previously but fancied trying another which turned out to be down narrow dirt tracks and closed giving us some excitement trying to get out of the place.

Back nearer Talioiune we spotted the Camping De L'Etoile and turned in to a large level area behind a sturdy wall where the gardien, Ali, greeted us. He was a lovely guy of advanced years and assisted us with filling up the water and then showed us round some basic loos and a decrepit gas powered shower - not for the first time were we grateful for the van's facilities. We decided to park on the lower level to be further from the road and then walked in to town for a good look round and a mint tea. Later we decided to eat in a snack bar and enjoyed a good pizza and meat skewers as we watched the world go by. A young lad rushed up and hugged us both but was clearly not all there as he then just stood looking at us - the owner later explained that he had had a head injury so we left enough cash to get him a meal next time round as yet again we felt so hugely humbled.

Back at site it was all change as 4 Toyota Landcruisers from the Czech Republic had arrived and more or less surrounded us - they were a friendly bunch and two guys were working on the engine of one whilst meals were prepared and roof tents erected. Ali kept asking us if we were OK with the disruption and we reassured him it was fine. Next morning the vehicle was still disabled and the decision had been made to tow it to Tangiers as once in Spain they would get recovery back to the CR. This reminded me of my travails in the old van heading over the Tizi n'Tichka and I wasn't able to determine if they too were going to attempt the same pass - suicidal with no PAS or servo assisted brakes. It would be a heavy demand on the towing vehicle and take at least a couple of days but they all seemed in good spirits as they left the two remaining vehicles to pack up - one of which I noted had a flat rear tyre. We were going to walk back in to town for some food shopping but Ali pointed out a large souk taking place across the dry riverbed so we headed there instead for a final experience of these remarkable occasions. Sheep and goats had been quickly dispatched prior to butchering, poultry awaited a similar fate, overloaded lorries were being parked up and the whole atmosphere amazed us as always but again we were left conflicted by an old disabled guy crawling through the crowds with two hand clogs and his legs protected by old car tyres. 

We took Ali some bananas as he'd not got a tooth in his head, bought some saffron and said goodbye a thousand times to this endearing character before returning through Aoulouz and then heading north up the amazing Tizi n' Test pass that climbs steadily for 20 miles through an ever impressive series of hairpin bends. We passed our intended stopping point for the night as I wanted us to see the Tin Mellal mosque which is located further down the valley and being effectively mothballed is open to non Muslims. Unfortunately it is undergoing a much needed restoration so was closed but that means a return in a year or two needs to be planned. Back near the top of the pass we saw the turning to the remote village of Aghbar I had gone down to previously and then stopped at Chez Mohammed's, the small cafe that allows overnighting alongside. Few people use it and there is perhaps room for 4/5 vehicles so we were the only ones there and had the company of a friendly donkey. We walked down the road to another cafe that has outstanding views and took tea on their terrace before returning to our place and another tea on their roof as the sun set.

 

The following morning we had a cunning plan that involved Mandy riding the full 20 miles of almost continuous downhill in the cool morning air. This was a huge success and a great end to her trip as she was flying back to Manchester the next day. Once the bikes were back on we moved on to Taroudant where a helpful gardien saw us in to a tight parking in the town centre from where we explored for the next few hours. We took a look at the aire just outside the walls which seemed basic but adequate and surprisingly full and then returned to enter the souk and jewellery quarter as I wanted a pair of specs mending. One guy took us over to his brother who then disappeared with my frame leaving the first guy to sell us something with the usual good natured bartering. Thus we ended up with a repaired frame and a pair of earrings and everyone seemed happy. As we walked back through the maze of stalls in a covered shady medina another guy tagged alongside us, asked if we wanted food and ducked us through a doorway that lead out in to a very pleasant cafe overlooking one of the main squares. We enjoyed a good meal as an old guy wearing the most ridiculous (and possibly traditional, somewhere) headgear came round asking for dirhams - he had another act which was to produce a wooden whistle and play the same tune repeatedly but I think he'd missed the opportunity to pair up with another guy playing a stringed instrument.

Back at the van we gave the gardien a few dirham - there is no fixed fee, he justs says 'whatever you want to pay' and it's well worth it for the eye kept on the van and bikes. Before long we were at Agadir airport and as a possible place to park up didn't materialise collected a ticket and parked in the long stay with a few other campers and the like. If you leave Morocco for a few days either by flying home or to the Canaries you then reset the clock and can have another 90 days here although I noted my Customs slip only admits the van for 6 months so one would have to be careful.

Anyway we had a quiet enough night but adopted stealth mode as a guy near the barrier said overnighting wasn't allowed but no one disturbed us. We had printed off a boarding pass twice as Easyjet had changed the flight schedule and there is no provision for mobile passes at Agadir and still couldn't understand why the flight times seemed at odds to each other  - however all became clear when we discovered that the clocks had changed by one hour for the month of Ramadam so for the next four weeks I will be the same as the UK. Anyway we said our goodbyes at Departures and I sat until the flight had left getting this post up to date.

Then I headed south on the RN1 to Guelmin for a top up at the Marjane supermarket, the road has a pass near Lakhsas where lorries drop to a crawling pace and other vehicles take stupid risks to get past. Being on the 'wrong' side for visibility when overtaking I was content to follow a line of trucks and then overtake on the downhill side when right hand bends allowed a view. Unfortunately I must have missed a speed trap as down at Bouizakarne I was directed to stop and a friendly enough gendarme took 300 dirham (£24) off me and issued the appropriate receipt with all the details. My first 'infraction' as he called it in 5 trips so not bad and to be fair the highly visible police presence is a great reassurrance.

The road out to the coast was quiet and I remembered that there is an alternative way in to the Fort Bou Jerif camping that reduces the rough piste track from 6 miles to 2 so used the SatMap to find and then follow the track as it is not on the Garmin. Even the last section of this is now being improved so future access will only get easier - huge drainage pipes are being installed as the area does get irregular flash floods. Passing the old fort was as impressive as I remembered and the FBJ campsite just as welcoming. It looks as if they have installed solar panels to supplement their generator but I also noticed new power lines coming in across the hill - another sign of this country's remarkable march of progress. There was only one other vehicle parked up - a Dutch Trooper - and there seemed to be two couples in the small 'hotel' across the way so I filled up with water (non drinkable apparently) and sat outside as the sun set after a long day.

Today I had a good clear out of the van and repacked things following Mandy's departure. A clean of the facilities, repositioning of some cupboard latches and a sweep out saw everything in good order - after four months away it was a useful task and I also did a load of washing by hand which soon dried in the sun. A group of wild camels passed by which added to the sense of remoteness down here - its a very long way down to the border with Mauritania which involves passing through the disputed Western Sahara - a possible destination for my return in December this year....This evening I walked down to the fort which is still hugely impressive but as with kasbahs in the villages is slowly deteriorating as the pise walls are not being repaired. A group of horse riders appeared and headed to FBJ which explained why earlier a pick up with trailer and straw had arrived and later I noticed the Moroccan support drivers sitting outside their tents whilst the tourist group were enjoying a meal in the restaurant. Both groups seemed equally happy and there was a good atmosphere when I wandered over to get a couple of bottles of water as the tap supply was pretty rough for drinking.

 

Anyway tomorrow I'm hoping to ride out to the coast at Foum Assaka for a bite to eat and to see if the road there is drivable as I fancy a night or two on the beach..... full report next time round.

Click Here For Photographs

 

BACK ATLAS (T)........

 We left Tarifa early planning to stock up in a Spanish supermarket only to find that it was Andalucia Day and everywhere was shut - hey ho we were hardly desperate so arrived at the eerily quiet port in plenty of time. In fact plenty of time as it turned out as although we weren't actually informed the ferry was running three hours late. Anyway as always the time soon passed and we watched the HGVs reversing on to the lower decks before we were directed on to a middle deck with perhaps another ten vehicles.

Departure past the cranes of Algeciras and then the Rock of Gibraltar was as exciting as ever and we were soon in the short queue to fill in the white immigration card and have our passports stamped by Moroccan Police.

After disembarking we were directed in to a line for the large HGV mounted scanner that passes over vehicles to scan their contents and look for stowaways. The officials also asked for the Carte Grise or V5 and this was duly returned with a small white card. Moving a few hundred metres on to the Customs Shed we were asked to wait perhaps ten or fifteen minutes but not actually searched, unlike a Moroccan car and trailer full of secondhand vehicle parts who were told to offload everything.

That was that then and we pulled up at a row of booths offering currency exchange, ATMs and the all important vehicle insurance. Passport and V5 were copied and a Certificate issued valid for 90 days and costing 200 euros - far less than I had expected. The guy's mate also fixed me up with a Moroccan SIM, set it up on the phone and even put our destination in to Google Maps for us. £20 covered the SIM and 20 Gig so as in Spain and Portugal we will use an old phone to create a hotspot thus saving roaming fees which here are an outrageous £5/day.

 

We set off over the hills passing the security fencing of Ceuta and arriving at dusk at Cabo Negre where a hotel offered camping on a series of grass terraces. It felt amazing to be back as had insurance not been available Brexit rules would have seen me home in a week...... We soon adapted to the Moroccan driving style and arrived the following day at the rather shabby campsite in Chefchaouen high above the town. The electrics were as dodgy as ever and the facilities as run down but we were as always warm and comfortable in the van so walked down to town for a few hours exploring the maze of streets in the blue quarter, taking tea above the market in the newer quarter and returning after dark through the old Jewish cemetery.

A drizzly morning saw us heading off for the few hours drive to a campsite I used a decade ago near the Roman ruins of Volubilis. We stopped at Ouazzane for a walk round and ended up in the old souk with its maze of streets and numerous shops and workshops, market day was starting to pack up and the donkeys were eating up the vegetable scraps. I was surprised to see a guy in a shack using an old typewriter to compose a letter for an elderly couple as generally Morocco seems to have adapted to the digital age and their 3G coverage puts the UK to shame.

The site near Moulay Idris had obviously seen some rain but we got on and off OK, filled with water and dealt with the loo before heading round to nearby Volubilis which is about 100 acres of the ruins of an important city of the Roman Empire. There were superb mosaics, graceful arches, latrines, fountains and swimming pools, olive oil presses with grooved floors and slaughterhouses with the same as well as two huge gateways at either end of the very obvious main street that would have had galleries either side full of shops and businesses. Entry was a fiver each and there was no pressure to have a guide - already I get the impression that people have been advised to ease off persistently harassing tourists which makes the whole experience much pleasanter. A late lunch on the cafe terrace was delicious  and a short drive later we were following the huge walls of the Royal Golf Course in Meknes to the guarded parking in the centre. Before taking a walk through the medina we visited the impressive mausoleum of Moulay Ismail where we were allowed in and were mesmerised by the chanting in an adjacent room. The huge Bab Mansour gateway was undergoing restoration but a large and very convincing banner had been put across the scaffolding to recreate the impressive sight. Similarly the large square opposite was being refurbished so was much reduced in size but still contained a melee of cafes, acts, monkey photo opportunities and locals just enjoying the sunny evening. We disappeared in to the souk once more to be enthralled by the level of activity in both workshops and on the street stalls with almost everything available from shoes to sugar and prams to potatoes. We emerged near Bab Mansour, declined a kebab but bought some fresh berries and dropped these back to the van before heading out once more to experience the whole scene again after dark.

 

Next day before leaving we bought two full gas cylinders, that match the Camping Gaz 907s in size, weight and regulator but only cost £4 each ( upwards of £65 in the UK). We will use these for the rest of this trip and will exchange where possible for about a pound or just buy a full cylinder and give the empty one to rural families who will genuinely appreciate a spare.We took a final walk over to the souk on a hot morning, sampled a glass of sugar cane juice and then set off to climb in to the Moyen Atlas soon reaching the high plateau with its giant Cedar trees.

Round at Aguelmame Azigza where I had wild camped a decade ago it was all change with a large Berber gathering very much settled in as efforts have been made to improve their lot in a changing world. There was a large car park beyond which a row of sturdy shacks had been erected to offer outlets for crafts and refreshments. After enjoying encounters with the Barbary monkeys during our walk round the lake we stopped at a small cafe whose owner was beside herself that we had called. Hot sweet tea and flat breads were enjoyed and her children shyly watched us from inside.

Overnighting in the car park was not allowed but I had stayed out amongst the trees a couple of miles away four years ago so we soon tucked discreetly away on the edge of the woods as dusk fell. We were just turning in when two German ladies arrived - they were part of a group of four in a large hired camper that had got stuck in a muddy section. We walked over to inspect and I then produced a shovel and four rescue mats and after a bit of digging we had them out safely. They insisted we took a bottle of wine which was kind and we all retired to spend a remarkable night in the peace and quiet.

 

 

A stunning drive took us down on to the plains for a while before the two hour climb through the High Atlas to Imilchil where we pulled in to the Auberge Tislit I had last visited four years ago. As they draw water from the lake and deter foreigners from drinking it we nipped the few miles in to Imilchil itself to get some diesel and fill up with water at the service station, as well as bread and a couple of cakes.

Back at the Auberge it appeared the lady was running it on her own and whilst very friendly and kind she seemed to worry constantly. We assured her that we were OK with the local kids and that we doubted our solar panel or bikes would be nicked and then set off to walk round the stunning lake with its backdrop of snow capped mountains. A couple of vans were parked on the shore but we feel that it is only fair to use sites where available and at about £6/ night it is worth it for the security alone.

The following day she brought fresh bread to the door after which we jumped on the bikes to cycle the 6/7 miles to the larger lake on a sunny fresh day crossing the bleak 7000' plus landscape. Surprisingly after Lake Islit the stony track became firm gravel as the road descended a gorge. Four years ago it had criss crossed the river but now followed one side of the gorge to a point where last time I had stopped on the edge of a tiny village. This time we continued to the end of the road passing a group loading perhaps 150 sheep by hauling them on to the upper deck of an open topped lorry. 

 

Just as were turning round a young woman called out to us in Berber which of course we didn't understand but she was both persistent and friendly and beckoned us to follow. She led the way to her home and pointed us inside. Here in a simple mud floored room with a stove and rugs at one end we were indicated to sit after removing our shoes and she proceeded to produce tea, bread and olive oil. She declined to join us (we later found out that strict Muslims fast on Mondays and Thursdays) but she was obviously delighted that we had stayed. With of course a huge language barrier I showed her some photos on my phone and pointed out the various things that interested us in her simple room. Eventually her parents turned up with Dad speaking some French and her Mum a beautifully dressed woman bent almost double clearly fascinated by us.

Eventually we said our goodbyes and offererd a gift to cover the food plus a small bracelet for Harima herself. We cycled away very much humbled and overawed by the whole experience and wondered what the future held for all of them. A side valley down in to Imilchil took us past men ploughing tiny fields with pairs of donkeys before we reached the town and took a table down a side street for a superb omelette and sweet mint tea. The owner's small boy was fascinated by us but very polite and I topped the bill with a few extra dirham for him and his brother. A short uphill ride brought us back to the auberge where the lady said that two German lads on bikes that had been staying as well claimed to be orphaned brothers and could not pay for anything - we immediately smelt a hamster as even getting to Morocco costs and what were their onward plans....

On leaving the following day we added a hefty tip and some good warm gloves as she was clearly suffering pains in her hands from the cold weather - below zero over night and perhaps 15 by day. We had had good solar during the day and been very warm at night although the Eber took two attepts to fire up - Google revealing that a high altitude kit is recommended above 1500m and we were at 2300m. We had noticed feeling more exerted on our ride but put that down to not having ridden many hills recently.

Heading south towards the Todra Gorge we turned off on a new road that would take us over to the Dades gorge and climbed steadily through the most incredible geology passing shepherds with flocks seemingly grazing on bare rock and eventually reaching patches of snow and meeting a lone German cyclist. He was sure he would get through as he'd met two Swiss cyclists previously but I had a feeling we would be thwarted and indeed a few miles further on after passing some snowy sections we met a larger drift. The Michelin Agilis Cross Climate tyres had done well but we lacked the ground clearance to continue and the road was due to climb another 1500'.

 

Thus we retraced our tracks, dropped for miles through the high mountains via a lofty viewpoint and eventually drove up a steep track to a large partially finished and unoccupied hotel that allowed parking on the gravel terrace overlooking Tametetoucht. I had stayed before and wondered at the grandiose plans of the French owner - the buildings were beautiful and there was much terracing and walling going on but no sign of any real business activity. We walked back down to the village,  took tea at another place offering van parking and decided we had the best position at our lofty perch above the small village.

 

 

After a quiet night we started on a road that we had been told was well surfaced all the way to the Dades gorge but turned round at a remote campsite as the surface was not as good as we had hoped for.  Dropping through the astounding Todra Gorge we passed the newly built dam that will, once full, and that may take a while, provide irrigation water and prevent flash floods. Down at the narrowest point where a clear spring emerges was the usual array of shawls, clothes and jewellery to entice the tourist throngs but again the high pressure pestering seemed muted as we walked through to gaze in awe at the towering cliffs.

 Turning right towards Boulmaine de Dades in Tineghir we were once more on the hot plains without a cloud in the sky - back home a cold snap was providing unusually heavy snow in the south and west so we counted our blessings as we turned up the Dades gorge. This road climbed steadily north before climbing through a series of tight hairpins to a viewpoint and cafe. Further on we pulled in to the Camping Berbere de La Montagne and parked in their sunny yard for the night : £6 including excellent hot showers, water and Elsan disposal. After a short rest we cycled back to the viewpoint to watch heavy lorries tackle the remarkable road and then in a fit of madness decided to descend at speed and enjoy the climb back up and reward ourselves with fresh orange juice - so worth it...

 

 

 

 

So it will be a quiet night here with a few other vans before dropping back to the plain and seeing if another possible new route over to N'Kob exists, if not we will have to go round one or other end of the remote Djebel Zahro range....

 

Piccies here.