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.

Amazing Andalucia

En route to Granada we stopped at the old Alcaudete station to finish off the last section of the via verde and rode through rolling olive oil plantings to have a tapas lunch at Martos. Back at the van we headed in to Granada to park up at the Camping Reina Isabel with our small van fitting in to a space that gave us more privacy than most and proximity to the showers and laundry facility.

 

On the Tuesday we caught the bus in to the centre - no masks neeed in contrast to Seville - and walked a slightly circuitous route up to the Alhambra. Our etickets soon saw us in to the main Alcazabar, gardens and other attractions with plenty of people about on a fine sunny day but also plenty of space. We explored the gardens more fully before joining the short queue for our timed admission to the Nasrid Palace - perhaps the most famous attraction in Andalusia and justifiably so.

 

 

Built originally by the Moorish occupiers of the Iberian Peninsula over Roman fortifications it lay empty for a long time before being gradually restored to its sumptuous glory. We moved from room to room through graceful arches with ornate plasterwork at every turn. Cool courtyards and shaded passages joined up to create an amazing layout that we were able to explore at our own pace as well as enjoy the views across the city and to the Generalife Palace across a gorge.

 

This was also included in the visit so we made full use of the day before jumping in to a taxi for the 10 euro ride home - great value as the bus to the centre had been 4 euro.

We then washed and changed before heading out on a surprise excursion that the site arranged to go to a flamenco session back in the Sacramonte district opposite the Alhambra. We had an hour spare to after the minibus ride to walk the narrow maze of streets by night with the illuminated Alhambra directly opposite. Then after a beer in the bar we moved on to a larger room where a trio of musicians and two dancers enthralled us with a passionate and energetic session of their traditional dance. It was truly impressive and well worth the effort after what had been a tiring day.

We had decided to stay an extra night so bussed back in to town for a walk through the squares, a visit to the beautiful cathedral and then an exploration of the Albaicin, another maze of backstreets with alleys, squares, viewpoints and bars joined by craft stalls and shops selling ethnic clothing and household decorations before enjoying a superb lunch in a square full of orange trees. I bought a local SIM valid for 3 months with 40GB of data which will last well beyond our final Spanish weeks and at a chemist I got weighed and was pleased to see a loss of around 5/6 kilos due largely to just a 10/14 fasting regime. Further weight was shed trying to find where the  bus back departed from, without any luck, so in the end we again hailed a taxi.

Moving on we decided to only go as far as Alhamma de Granada which is a spar town above a deep gorge with the aire perched on the edge. We walked in to the centre and up to the castle before dropping in to the gorge and discovering carved stone laundry basins, derelict water mills, a tiny chapel and some remarkable geology. After a quiet night in the aire we woke to the sound of stalls for market day being erected and enjoyed a good look round before returning to the rest of the gorge via different paths. I had seen a really nice VW T3 van conversion in Granada and stopped at garage workshop that had a few older VWs around to chat to the young owner who was a VW enthusiast and very interested in the photo I showed him. As the market packed up we bought some fruit and veg before moving on to Antequera and the impressive geology of El Torcal. The car park attendant insisted on squeezing us in to a very tight space which then seemed to annoy a returning Spanish family, but we set off on the longer walk that took us amongst the most remarkable towers, pillars, outcrops and gorges. As always five minutes from the car park we were virtually alone although a noisy Dutch woman seemed to always be in the background somewhere. Despite this we saw the small deer grazing and griffon vultures circling overhead.

 

The parking opposite the Alcazabar at Antequera had a fine view but there was a strong if mild wind blowing as we walked in to town via the huge church and a lovely set of stone steps. We had been before and reached the large bullring at the end of town before finding a decent bar for a couple of drinks and tapas. Light rain fell overnight depositing a muddy sheen on everything but the following day dawned bright as we drove on to the parking for El Chorro something I have wanted to do for years since visiting the area in 2008. We walked through the access tunnel and down to the entrance gates where things were not well organised and we were uncertain if we were in the right group for our 12.30 start. As we were early it was the 11.30 group being directed so we walked back along the shore to await our turn and eventually after passport and ticket scanning we were given helmets and an AV headset. The guide was a friendly lass with good English and after a safety briefing we headed down along the paths to the entrance to the stunning limestone gorge of El Chorro and the start of the Camino del Rey. This path had been installed to allow maintenance of a long canal built in to the towering cliffs to take water down to a hydro scheme supplying power to Malaga for over a hundred years. Once that canal was superceeded by a new tunnel it fell in to disrepair but several million euros and six years late the remarkable walkway has been reopened and is a popular success. We walked through the first gorge with long drops to the lively river and even higher cliffs towering above us. The weather was perfect and we were not rushed along which was much appreciated. At the midway point we reached a thin slab of concrete that bridged the gorge and was the point I had reached last time I had been here by following the railway line up from the village through a couple of tunnels, much frowned upon then let alone now. A Malaga to Cordoba train duly appeared as if on cue but most traffic now follows the faster LAV line that avoids the mountains. After a section of valley we entered the final gorge passing opposite a stunning cliff face and following the walkway in and out of a large but narrow cleft before finally reaching a bridge that crossed to the far side and led via exposed steps to the finish point. Beyond here we enjoyed refreshments in the sun before walking on to the shuttle bus that would return us to the start point - the snack bars here were much cheaper if you do go! As we left we decided to check out the wild camping down by the much reduced lake and after a chat with a friendly Irish guy were soon parked on the sun baked mud for a very relaxing evening and sunset.

 

Our next destination was the lovely town of Ronda where we parked in the station car park as most other options were underground with limited headroom - the entrance barrier was up so we drove in and then realised we should have stopped for a ticket. Without a vehicle in place no ticket could be issued so we decided to worry about that later and set off in to town. The amazing bridge was bathed in sunshine and we walked round to the path that drops sharply away to give the best views before returning for an excellent lunch in the sun in Plazza Mondragon, much quieter than the centre. 

 

We then walked behind the famous bridge and dropped down to earlier Roman bridges before a final climb to town and back to the van. As the entrance barrier was still up the simplest solution was just to drive out that way and we were soon heading off towards Olvera and the start point for the VV de la Sierra. At the old station we decided to park in the blue zone for 10 euros a night with water and power so rang the number on the board. We then received the key box code by SMS and were able to unlock the barrier chain. A cabinet key to the water and power boxes was also included but as I have my own we replaced everything and filled up with water before parking across a bay to give us space and privacy. Two Italian vans turned up later and a dozen or so others were parked up in the red zone which is only a fiver but has no facilities.

 

Next day we set off for the end of the vv stopping at Coripe for coffee and cake after the longest tunnel of 990m. We recognised the aire off the track which contains Spain's largest oak tree and had been used on our last visit here when Mandy was recuperating from her illness. It is a superb, largely flat ride with 30 tunnels and ends at another revamped station building that provided our lunch stop. A local bike hire company was waiting for a group to arrive after their 24 mile ride as we saddled up for the return run which we found rather tiring towards the end after completing almost 50 miles.We chatted to an English couple we had met before turning in for a bit of TV as one phone is still allowing access to IPlayer.

Before leaving Olvera I cleaned both bikes and ran the drive trains through my cleaning tool as they had an accumulation of grit and grease fom the dusty tracks we've been enjoying. We stopped in Olvera and realised we had been here 4 years ago. The beautiful church and rugged castle should surely stay in one's mind but in reality with so many amazing places visited it is easy to forget the individual ones. 

 

As we approaced Zahara the sat nav took us on a route to the aire that would have taken us through narrow streets so we executed a smart 360, dropped back to the dam and approached from a different angle to reach the large flat car park with superb views that would be our base for the night. Across the reservoir sat Algonodales where a friend learned to parasail and we climbed the steep streets and paths to the kiosk for tickets to the lofty castle. At 2 euros each this was a bargain and the views from the keep remarkable with the snow covered Sierra des Nieves in the distance - the late snow that has come with the cooler temperatures in both Spain and Morocco and affected UK salad imports also prevented any attempt on Mulhacen in the Sierra Nevada which means we have left the Alpujarras for another time. The aire was very peaceful overnight and after another stroll through the village we set off south for Algeciras on an indirect route via Gaucin for Algeciras where we hoped to collect our tickets for Morocco from the port. Gaucin was another pueblo blanco strung out along a ridge with a small but impressive castle and views of Gibraltar. Lunch in the sun seemed a good idea but there was a chill wind and service was a bit slow so we were glad to get back to the warm van eventually and drop down towards the coast.

Pulling in at Algeciras port passeneger terminal we were immediately approached by ticket touts as expected but a firm and polite rebuke saw them melt away and to my surprise we had exchanged our printed vouchers for the actual tickets and were on our way to Tarifa in less than twenty minutes. Before arriving at the Rio Jara campsite we did a shop for those items less likely to be available in Morocco and then pulled up at the familiar site. Unfortunately I think it has had a change of ownership as apart from the African guy who maintains the grounds and facilities all the staff seemed unfamiliar. The price seemed way too high at 29 euros and the place was half empty, even the bar which used to be a convivial hub was deserted. The shop no longer stocked Camping Gaz which I initially saw as a problem but as in fact full cylinders in Morocco are only a fiver I will deplete two of my three CG907s, store them in the roof void and just buy two cylinders over there and give them away when I leave - a saving of 30 euros just like that.

Anyway we chose a sheltered pitch with hook up and settled in for the night, pleased with how the day had unfolded. Next morning we strung a line between two trees and did a full laundry load leaving it to dry as we walked up the beach to admire the kite surfers and their ecclectic range of vans and lorries. The advent of good cheap solar power and 3/4G interenet access on smartphones has transformed van life, including mine, and may also explain the reduced numbers paying top whack for a campsite - and modern vans also have all the comforts of home and more so why bother.

 

Today we cycled in to Tarifa to gaze across the busy Straits shipping lane to the Rif Mountains not 20 miles away. We sat on rocks round from the port for a while before climbing to a viewpoint and then exploring the narrow streets of the original Moorish walled town and a final lunch in hot sunshine. The two miles back against a headwind was soon achieved and we have spent a final evening sorting things out. The only hurdle now is obtaining vehicle insurance once over at Tangiers and getting a Moroccan SIM so assuming all this is achieved without too much hassle the next posts will be from AFRICA!!!

PICS here....

 

Across in to Andalucia

 Despite various strike threats in the UK the EasyJet flight arrived on time and we walked back round to the handy aire for a good night's sleep. The early mail plane for Lisbon barely roused us but later we were enjoying the spectacle of flights arriving and departing right before us.

 We decided to drop in to Faro for a look round the old town and harbour before heading up to Alcoutim on the border where the following day we took the skiff across the Guadiana to Sanlucar and walked up to the fort via the start point of a zip wire back across the river.

At Mertola we parked up initially in the town for a walk round but decided there was enough to see to justify a night in the aire down by the river so relocated and enjoyed the castle, its keep, good views down to the river and the archaeological excavations of both Roman mosaics and Arabic housing.

Returning to Pomarao we parked by the river and headed out for a short ride through local tracks and back via a tiny chapel high above the village.  A beer at Maria's gave us a chance encounter with a Welsh woman and her Portuguese husband who live locally but also spend half the year in Wales.

The weather was perfect as we set off to start the via verde from the old loading wharves towards El Granado where we enjoyed lunch in the sun before returning through the quiet countryside. On the Sunday Maria's bar was too busy as the other village bar was shut for a holiday so we decided to head off late morning and make our way to Umbrete which would be our base for visiting Seville by bus. We walked in to the town to find the bus stop and timetable, have a hot drink and then on a cold night chatted to Dianne from Bromley who was on her first longish trip in a recently converted van. She had done well to get here and was looking forward to a friend joining her and we promised to keep in touch.

First thing next morning we were on the bus to the centre of Seville for a couple of Euros with the fast bus taking half an hour to reach the main bus station. On a sunny day we walked along the river to the Golden Tower and then on to the remarkable gardens of the Parque de Maria Luisa which included the stunning Plaza de Espana built for a huge Iberian/American trade show in 1929. Horse drawn carriages clattered around the square, a fashion shoot was underway and buskers filled various cool galleries with their  efforts. A flamenco dancer enthralled us as we left to enjoy lunch at a decent restaurant before walking to the cathedral and fort to check admission details. Then it was an enjoyable meander back for an evening bus that took longer as it wound its way through the suburbs. We had time to have a cosy evening in with Dianne and exchange stories before settling in on another cold night.

 

Next day we caught the same bus in time to visit the alcazar which was stunning with beautifully decorated halls, galleries, rooms and shaded courtyards and an extensive garden. This contained a decent cafe for refreshments before we exited and returned to the cathedral as we had booked the rooftop tour. This was again excellent with an interesting commentary, good views across town and up to the famous Giralda, the cathedral's main tower with its copper weather vane that had replaced Arabic spheres when their rule came to an end. Admission details had been somewhat unclear so we were left with insufficient time to climb the tower but could take in the bulk of the cathedral and consider the tomb of Christopher Columbus supported by statues of four monarchs.

Moving on in to the Morena mountains we stopped en route at Carmona which has a number of fine churches, sturdy castle walls and a smart parador occupying much of the old castle itself. Near La Puebla de Los Infantes we arrived at a lovely site in amongst trees and near a partially dried up reservoir. It had only been open two years and Miguel was pleased to show us a choice of pitches and made us feel very welcome. The facilities were excellent and there was only Andreas, a German guy in a small Eriba caravan towed behind his Tesla, staying who had been there 3 months. We enjoyed the peace and quiet and ended up staying five days as there was a large festival in the village combined with a paragliding show and competition on the shore. We cycled up to the village and then out north before picking up a country track that returned us past a herd of very entertaining pigs. It was a good down hill to firstly the village for a beer in a traditional bar and then down to the site where it was filling up for the weekend's celebrations -  we enjoyed a beer with Andreas in the small bar and learnt a fair bit about touring with an EV.

Thus on the Saturday we rode out towards Constantina calling in to the paragliding festival en route for a nose around and then picked up the far end of the country track and returned to La Puebla at dusk where we locked the bikes up, swiftly donned warm clothing and set off to enjoy the festivities. Dozens of huge bonfires lit the streets with private and public gatherings as we looked for a bite to eat. The Spanish don't really start before 8 so we tucked in to a restaurant for a beer or two until food would be served - as usual we were never quite sure what we were ordering but it was delicious and  thus refreshed we headed off to soak up more of the party atmosphere. Hot chocolate and simple pastries were being dolled out by one family and it was a privilege to experience the true face of Spanish life. We rolled back to the site which was now more than two thirds full but our terrace was almost empty as we were not within reach of electric hook up.

 

On the Sunday we walked round the shore to the event but unfortunately the dual flights were over for the day although we picked up a card for a company operating over in Morocco so maybe, maybe. We enjoyed watching the various competitions and admired the determination of the unpowered wings to get airborne, sadly without much success as it was a hot still day. Returning to site along the road the shuttle bus back to La Puebla was kind enough to stop and then drop us off saving a couple of hot miles on foot.

Tuesday saw us heading in to Ecija to stay at an aire near the town centre and alongside the Via Verde de La Campina so we jumped on the bikes to enjoy an afternoon ride. Unfortunately after a few miles it began to run parallel to a noisy dual carriageway so we decided to head back and then walked in to town for a drink in the sun in its large square. A ride the following day in the other direction was far nicer and led us to Carlota where we had lunch in a friendly bar before using the SatMap to take us back to the trail through endless olive tree groves. Another stroll in to town saw us buying two bike pumps, tyre sealant and lube but failing to find an outlet for CampinGaz. Small hardware shops had similar cylinders of a different brand but would not have been able to take ours in exchange.

After doing a bag of laundry and a food shop on leaving Ecija we headed an hour or so along to Cordoba and we were soon tucked away in the rough parking near the zoo within a mile of the centre and main attractions. A couple of outlets on the CEPSA fuel brand app listed as stocking CG did not in fact stock it and reluctant to add more miles in an unfamiliar city we decided to walk to one outlet listed - this didn't even exist but at another bike shop where we wanted a track pump the friendly owner said his mate, a nearby plumber, would have it. We walked round in anticipation but again it was a non CG brand. Back at  the van we had lunch before I set out on another long and fruitless walk so on my return we pushed off in to town and enjoyed the remarkable Roman bridge with the mosque/cathedral beautifully lit across the river. Having checked out the access point for the following day's prebooked tickets we then walked through the old Jewish quarter's maze of alleys to the modern centre. It was part way through the local fiesta so lights were strung across the streets and artists were performing in the malls.

 

Later back at the van I sufferered a couple of hours of worryingly violent stomach cramps during the night and felt pretty rough at breakfast time. Fortunately they eased off as we walked back in to enjoy the truly remarkable Mezquita - a former mosque now reborn as a cathedral with the original minaret now serving as the bell tower and the numerous cool rooms with their iconic striped arches leading to side chapels, huge altars and choir stalls. It was in fact surprisingly cold inside so we were glad to have various layers on - no doubt in summer it makes the place bearable. Three hours soon passed before we departed for the main square in modern Cordoba for lunch. Back at the Mezquita we took a final look as we wanted to call at a CEPSA distributor that opened at 5. Here to our partial surprise they did indeed stock the holy grail of the blue chalice and we left with 2 x 907's @ £17 each.

Reaching Dona Mencia after an hour or so we were surprised to find that the aire adjacent to the VV de la Subetica now needed payment and prebooking. As we were scanning the Q code to get the app to register a username to set up an account to book the pitch then pay the fee after uploading a card a man opened the barrier and said come in and pay at the cycle hire tomorrow! After filling up with water we parked alongside the VV without power as the south facing pitch would give us ample solar and then settled in for the night enjoying some BBC Iplayer as Mandy's phone does not yet seem to realise she is outside the UK. I had bought another SIM in Cordoba to avoid the '3' network £2 roaming charge so we have 40 Gig of data valid for 3 months with EU roaming and tethering for £8. At the bike shop it was  3 euros a night but 7 at the weekend so we booked for a week - this strangely being only 15 euros - giving us options to extend and then cycled down to Alcaudete where in the grounds of the old station about forty different examples of the world's 120 or so varieties of olive were planted. Hot drinks in an old station next to the wood burner were appreciated as we headed home passing the lofty castle of Zuheros.

 

It being a weekend the aire was pretty full but being small we had tucked away and had plenty of space and enjoyed a quiet night. Yesterday we dropped back along the track and then took a side spur to Baena where we rode up to the castle and then lunched in the square before returning to the road up to Zuheros. This absolutely exquisite village with its magnificent castle draped over a limestone outcrop looked its best in the late aftenoon sun and we paid for castle admission in the small museum giving us access to the high battlements, narrow stairs and tunnels and an impressive keep with far reaching views. A bride and groom were having wedding photos taken and we wished them good luck before saddling up for the short ride home. Spanish families were socialising at full tilt on a cool evening and we noticed that a Dutch couple we had spoken to had moved off as they were sandwiched between two large families.

Today I have booked my ferry from Morocco to Italy for late May as this then triggers our entry date for Morocco which will now be the 28th of Feb, just over a fortnight away. The basic fare for me and the van was £450 but I've opted for a good double cabin and the full meals pass as it is a 3 day sailing via Barcelona and I intend to fully enjoy a late Spring Mediterranean mini cruise ......

We've also booked four nights on Lundy in mid October for Mandy's birthday which should be very special.

Finally we cycled though Cabra and down to Lucena for drinks and tapas before returning and meeting the Dutch couple who had indeed relocated to the quieter aire at Cabra. They were off to Cordoba and Seville so we recommended the campsite at La Puebla for a rest day - he was in need of hook up to charge their electric bikes and was unhappy with his lithium ion leisure battery as once it dropped below 80% all power was lost - he thinks the mains charger is the wrong one for Liion and will be returning to his dealer when they get back. Anyway it was good to see them again and we will keep in touch, similarly we hope with Dianne who has had to return home earlier than planned.

So tomorrow is Granada for a booked visit to the Alhambra on Tuesday. We are staying on a campsite for two nights to give our leisure battery a boost - first EHU in 3 weeks - and with luck will get some laundry done. There is a bus in to town we hope so with onward plans taking shape I will leave it there for now.

Pics here ; enjoy.

A Meander South

Well as predicted here I am at Faro on the aire not two hundred yards from the runway - with only a dozen or so flights a day it is not exactly hectic and I will walk round to Arrivals this evening assuming all plans go to....well plan.

The weather improved after Montsarraz in time to get a few piccies of the fortified village including the various nativity models that were being carted away gradually - it was an amusing site to see the three kings on their camels sticking out of a livestock trailer.

 

 

 

On the spur of the moment I was tempted by lunch in a bar with a sunny terrace overlooking the huge Alqueva reservoir and my fried whole squid was beyond delicious.

 

 

 

I only moved on a few miles to park up by the water's edge near Mourao which had a lovely lakeside beach, plenty of waterfowl and no people. I cycled back in to the village to visit the church adjacent to the castle and then sat on a small island to watch a good sunset. A good ride the following day exploring tracks and trails brought me to Luz which is the new village relocated from a couple of miles away when the valley was flooded. It has been built as an almost carbon copy of the old but with improved construction and utilities but being only 20 years old still feels quite characterless. The lovely lady in the bakery sold me some decent bread and the tiny supermarket provided for a few other items. I also discovered that there was an aire in the village with water and waste facilities and power available - payable by machine -as per the other aire the machine was broken but the barrier was up and others were in residence so I moved there the following day.

 

 

This gave me the opportunity for a 55 mile ride down to the impressive dam and hydro scheme and back across the bridge to Mourao on largely deserted roads. I also visited the museum dedicated to the abandoned village which had plenty of history and artefacts relating to the old ways of life.

 

 

Moving south and east I passed through the Aracena National Park, an area of woods, valleys and mountains before pulling in to Aracena itself where parking was allowed in a large empty patch of ground five minutes from the village centre. On a sunny weekend afternoon cafe culture was in full swing and I booked a tour in the Grutas de las Maravillas, a show cave largely located underneath the hilltop castle. The ticket had me booked on the 5 o'clock visit and included the castle itself which I walked up to passing a convent and another fine church. From the castle walls I could get an idea of the layout of the area which had much walking potential before I joined the underground trip.

This was an hour long walk through 2km of superbly decorated cave passages and well worth doing - no photography was permitted but there are some good videos on YouTube. I also visited the museuo de jamon which included all aspects of producing this local delicacy before turning in for the night with a few vans scattered around. Sunday saw me starting a walk out to Linares from a book written twenty odd years ago but apart from a bit of urban sprawl little had changed and I made good enough progress to include a second walk from the same book so finished the day after 15 really enjoyable miles although my knees were yet again causing some discomfort.

Monday was spent doing the walk of The Happy Pigs which lived up to its name as it passed through fields and the dehesa that provide these outdoor reared pigs with acorns to forage. It took me back to my days on the farm when my Oxford Sandy and Blacks would roam at will in similar terrain.A small bar tempted me to go in and I was soon enjoying jamon, egg and chips washed down with a beer and followed by a pud and coffee for a very reasonable £15 before the final walk back in to Aracena.

 

I left the following day but again only as far as Minas de Riotinto where a sloping aire by a busy road was adequate for a one night stay. Up at the mining museum I discovered that a multi buy ticket would give access to the Museum, English house 'Casa21' and a trip on the train down the Rio Tinto Valley the following day. En route I had already visited the other local attraction the Pena De La Hierro which was a smaller now abandoned open mining area with a deep water filled crater and remarkably colourful geology.

 

Thus I visited the mining museum housed in the old hospital built by the English owned RT mining company and enjoyed some excellent displays of geological samples, a surprisingly authentic re-creation of a Roman mine, associated artefacts from a Roman village uncovered by the mining operations and of course archive photos and documents of the mines development in recent years.

I then drove down to the station where the 13.00 (and only) departure of the old train was waiting in a valley surrounded by huge geometric shaped piles of the multi coloured waste from the current operations. The Rio Tinto lived up to its name and appears that colour due to the heavy concentrations of copper in the area - a natural colour rather than due to pollution and in fact the water is pretty clear, it just reflects the underlying strata. The 3 carriage train rocked, rattled and swayed behind an archaic diesel engine as a lady gave a presumably comprehensive commentary in Spanish. I was content to watch the scenery as we passed abandoned mines and quarries, loading bays, crushing plants and an array of old rusting railway relics. After an hour we stopped for time to walk down to the water's edge whilst the loco ran round and then enjoyed a return trip through the remarkable scenery.

There was then time to visit Casa 21, a house on an estate again built by the company to house their workers on postings from Britain and intended to recreate their previous lives being complete with tennis courts, an outdoor pool and a polo pitch - classic miners' pastimes.....the interior looked like some of those we saw last year at Beamish.

 

The final attraction of an excellent day was to follow a mines van through the security fencing to peer in to the huge hole in  the ground that is the still operational Corta Atalaya, the largest open pit mine in Europe at 1200m long, 900 wide and 350 deep. It has been flooded from the 16th ring for many years and is being constantly pumped out whilst existing faces are worked. For an idea of scale a steam locomotive sits at the lowest point and is almost invisible. It was an impressive sight and site and a good end to an interesting day leaving me a short drive south to Valverde de Campo where I planned to ride a local via verde. I had done this one before but from the south and was soon rolling along stopping at a bar on the way back for coffee and toast before loading up and heading for Pomarao on the Spanish Portuguese border.

This enchanting village strings out above the Guadiana river which rises 500 miles away near Madrid and often forms the border with its outlet a further 40 miles on in the Gulf of Cadiz.

A large gravel area provided plenty of space for a number of vans and I pulled in right by the river on a sunny evening. A couple of rides from the van included a crossing back over in to Spain to pick up a new (to me) Via Verde which started from some impressive old loading bays above the river and wound its way through the scenery to the old mine. From here it was a short ride passing an old 16th century windmill to El Granado for beer and a bag of crisps before the run home that finished with a long fast descent to the river.

At Pomarao a large bat had landed beneath the bike rack but didn't look to healthy so I persuaded him to hang off a tree so at least he was clear of predators. A cold night made me value the Eber yet again but Sunday morning sunshine soon had me outside in shorts for a restful day for a change. As on previous days a very elderly local had rowed erratically across to the other bank to tend his vegetable patch, returning at dusk in a what seemed given his antiquity a perilous journey. At lunchtime I went over to check out the Cafe do Cais and found it to be delightful - a covered terrace overlooking the slightly tidal river and the friendly Fatima who spoke a variety of languages and produced a delicious dish of Alentejo pork with clams and potatoes followed by a coconut desert washed down with a Bohemian Sagres. Deservedly she closes for a week from the 24th so unfortunately whilst we will return Mandy will miss this most pleasant experience.

So yesterday I packed up after four days by the river and headed towards Faro stopping at the first camp site in 7 weeks - the Ecopark at Sao Bras de Alportel as I had laundry to do and the van needed a service stop on the domestic front. things dried quickly in the sun although a huge Austrian truck camper with trailer mounted 4x4 was later positioned alongside which cast some shade on things. I cannot imagine hauling that huge combination around was anything less than constantly stressful and in many ways hugely limiting but still, each to their own....anyway 9 euros to park up (no EHU) and 5 for a large laundry load seemed OK and the owners were very friendly. Whilst they don't sell gas they have the local dealer to come in with various brands and sizes and within half an hour a nice guy turned up at my pitch with 2 CG 907s at £15 each : well under half the UK price.

Thus to return to the beginning - it was a cold night again but the days are gloriously sunny and I am now waiting for the arrival of a flight from Manchester - it's a very quiet airport less than two dozen arrivals and departures a day but very interesting to sit up on the bank watching aircraft as they do arrive or leave.

I'd not shopped for a fortnight so spent a fair bit at Lidl and we will head to Mertola tomorrow en route back to Pomarao before moving west to Seville, Cordoba, Granada, the Alpujarras and eventually Morocco at the end of February.

According to the EasyJet tracker the flight is currently on time and just passing over the Brecon Beacons, it's a funny old world.

More than enough pics sit here...

  

Marvao 2023

 So after a break of four years I was looking forward to another peaceful Christmas and New Year on the campsite with the company of Tiggy the cat, the two dogs occasionally and a few adventurous lambs that would hop over the neighbour's wall ; the ewes are hobbled so don't stray far.

On my return from the foray north I had visited the old village of Idanha a Velha with its Roman remains but it was a grey day and the place was deserted. A night at Vila Velha de Rodao saw the sun emerge as I enjoyed a cider on a terrace overlooking the much swollen Tejo river.

Back at Marvao Gary was ready for his return to the UK although a strike by TAP in Lisbon and Border Force at Manchester added a measure of uncertainty so I was content to settle down for a peaceful ten days or so. We had noticed that some of the camp site power was down so Joao arranged for the local electrician to inspect - he diagnosed that the fault lay in the mains supply and within a couple of hours the power company turned up with a cherry picker and repaired a damaged cable that ran through a cork oak.

 

I took off on the bike to explore local megalithic relics that are now part of a signed route and sat at various dolmens reflecting on how significant these memorials were to an ancient civilisation that spread right across Spain, Portugal, France and even in to the far reaches of west Wales - had there been a recorded history left it would I'm sure have revealed a surprisingly advanced society.

I cycled up to Marvao early one morning as Santo Antonio was in the fog and was rewarded with some excellent photographic opportunities as the mists swirled and lifted sporadically. At one point the conditions combined to create a brockenspectre and by the time I returned to the site the sun had burnt off the cloud and I relaxed in the hot sunshine.

 Another ride took me down to Beira station once more and then on to an old chafurdao which would have originally served as a shepherds' hut and then a livestock shelter with a circular water trough carved in to the granite.

A friendly pig with a litter of 3 seemed to enjoy the attention as I pedalled back to base and had the two dogs over the days that Joao was working. He'd also called round with his Mum who I've known for a few years now and she enjoyed an insight in to my previous life in Wales as we devoured a Bola Rei - the traditional Portuguese Christmas cake in the cosy kitchen.

Before long Gary was safely back and I took advantage of extra hands on deck to remove the potentially brittle tailgate shower trim from the van. This enabled me to diagnose the fault with the tailgate lock that had not been engaging - the latch was slightly out of alignment and easily rectified by the application of Localised Uniform Momentary Pressure - a lump hammer to the uninitiated.

All was soon back in place and later that night I was outside in my super warm down jacket well before dawn to watch the Quarantids meteor shower in the northern skies.

I decided to relocate for a couple of nights up to the aire at Marvao for some night photographs so loaded up the van and set off initially planning to spend the day round at the Povoa barragem in the sun. However the high water levels meant that the network of shore side tracks were underwater and after almost getting bogged down I headed round to the main access point alongside the newly refurbished, and empty, aire.

I'd seen 6 Spanish vans parked up on a patch of land near Beira and saw that the new payment and access system with an app generated Q code to raise the barrier was out of order.

Anyway after a lovely couple of hours I went round to Castelo de Vide where some new sculptures adorned the square in front of the large church. Up at the castle the keep has, I think, been spoilt by adding glazing to the four huge windows, similarly at Marvao a large CCTV camera has detracted from the simple lines of that lofty keep. So often improvements such as information boards, safety notices and interactive panels detract from the very features they represent, and more often than not seem to be out of order.

I watched as a tractor with a back box full of rubble reversed up ramps on to a waiting lorry - the potential for disaster seemed  high but at the fourth attempt all was well.

The aire at Marvao has a wonderful view across to Santo Antonio and away to Spain and is located alongside the convent so it's a short walk up through one of the gates in the castle walls in to the village. As the sun set the castle illuminations began to work their magic but few people lingered long enough to get the full effect and I walked back to the van through deserted streets for a cosy night with a couple of other vans nearby. I spent the last day visiting the newly expanded museum, shared lunch with two French girls on the only part of the O Castelo terrace that was in full sun and returned for a final sunset in a place that I enjoy returning to every time.

 

On Friday Gary, Joao and I were joined by John a sprightly local expat to undertake the annual burn of brash, prunings and scrap wood as required under local regs to reduce the impact of summer wildfires.

We made good progress but moving the huge slimy mound of California poke weed, an invasive species akin to knotweed and Himalayan balsam combined, left my clothes filthy so Gary was kind enough to offer me use of his washing machine as I showered and spruced up for a final meal at the excellent Chinese buffet in Portalegre.

I called at the DIY shop for some Hammerite, a brush and masking tape as my wheel arches are just showing signs of rust on the lower leading edges - I did this on the old van and it lasted years. Incidentally after passing it on 5 years ago it is still running and passing MOT's but has only clocked up 11,000 miles. I put 220k on in a decade! I also did a quick shop and then went to the bike shop for new disc pads front and rear - the owner recognised me as the English guy who came in for a brake lever and walked out with a whole bike - paid for of course.

I had planned to stay on a riverside aire at Arranches but it had been severely damaged by the pre Christmas floods and was closed. Thus I moved on to Terrugem where a cluster of vans including 4/5 Brits were parked up and had a quiet night.

Yesterday I arrived here at Monsaraz a cliff top village rather like Marvao but with a view across the huge reservoir to the east.  I'd hoped to stay at Terena which had a small aire at £4/ night including hook up and wifi but the access was via a Q code from the Outdoor-Routes.pt website which was beyond frustrating to use - to enter your DOB required scrolling back through every month for in my case almost 63 years ie 750 times.... Then the registration email contained a broken link and starting from scratch with an alternative email required my DOB again. Eventually an email with a usable link arrived so I reserved my spot, clicked on card payment and was duly informed 'service not available' so gave up and headed here.

On a cool blustery afternoon I walked in to the village but it wasn't conducive to good photographs and today is similar so I've taken advantage of a quiet aire, the heater and a good mobile signal to update the blog. Whilst still using a Lyca SIM I've decided to pay the £2 a day charge levied by 3 which gives me a chance to use some of my 12Gb a month EU roaming allowance in one big data hungry day.

Mandy arrives a little earlier than planned in a fortnight at Faro giving us the chance to enjoy Seville together so I will head slowly south with more settled weather arriving tomorrow so my next post will probably be from the aire conveniently located right next to the runway......

Piccies here as always