Marrakech Hotel

I made a bit of a mistake and accidentally booked a hotel 25km out of Marrakech. It took a couple of hours to find the place, asking people for directions and getting the usual mixture of daft responses pointing in opposite directions etc.

Here is a tip for travelling which works time and again: When you need to find a place always ask an older person. They are the ones who know the town, have the patience to listen, and will be polite in a way that I don´t think our generation will ever be.

In Morocco people will help you even if they don´t have the knowledge or ability. It is endearing, but can be tricky for trying to do anything or get anywhere.

As I say, it took two hours to find the place and a lot of ribbing from Rob for being such a numpty, but in the end he agreed it was worth it. Check out the hotel and view...



Happy Days!

After such a long ride, we settled down to a swim and a few beers, and... ahem... a candlelit dinner for two next to the pool with a view of the mountains. A little bizarre for both of us I think.

Essaouira to Marrakech

On the way back to Marrakech I clocked over 2000 miles on the trip so far. The trip meter rolled over again. Man this bike can take some punishment.

As we got nearer to Marrakech the driving got crazier and the tension bubbled.

We pass a muslim funeral procession with the body being carried by his mates in a small stretcher bed. This is the only situation where someone doesn´t see fit to beep their horn like an idiot.

Later we also see a guy a get knocked off his scooter, get up, get hugged by the guy that hit him and then ride off. This place is rubbish when it comes to vehicles.

Goodbye Essaouira

We blow this popsicle stand and head back towards Marrakech.

Essaouira was a nice little town. Our last night here was punctuated by an ethnic concert in the town with a couple of thousand people in the square. Due to our hound-like ability to find drinking establishments in a dry town, we end up with a view over the entire square and concert at the top of a terrace bar. Ace.





Rob did a sterling job of acting normal during the day when he was actually very sick. I hope I don´t catch the same thing.

Essaouira still cool

This place is pretty ace. Last day here...

Beware the sardine

Rob came down with a bit of food poisoning for a couple of days. Beware of the evil sardine...

Essaouira

Relaxed tourist town. It will be good to stay here for a couple of days...

Agadir to Essaouira

Rob and I headed up to Essaouira after our time in Agadir. The ride along the coast and through the mountains was lovely.

Marrakech to Agadir

Rob hires a little scooter and we head off to Agadir. It is funny watching Rob's reactions as the drivers in this country show him how they do things. He was as surprised as I was. We spend the next three hours trying not to die on the roads while riding through a moonscape of rocks and sand.

Rob arrives

Rob flew down to Marrakech so we can have a bit of fun and do a bit of riding together.

We spend the evening in Marrakech in the Djeema El Fna, drinking orange juice and watching snake charmers and story tellers.

Marrakech

Yay, I did it! I've ridden my motorbike from London to Marrakech. Happy days!

A fairly daft endeavour, but absolutely worth every minute - even with broken chains, saddle sores and bugs in my teeth. There was beautiful scenery, wonderful rides, warm sun and lovely and kind people.

Down to Beni-Mallal

Continued south along the mountains to Beni-Mallal.

I got run off the road a couple of times. Cars pass each other and come straight towards you in a game of chicken. Most of the time the pull in, but sometimes you have to swerve to avoid them.

Most Moroccans shouldn't be allowed to operate a vehicle. At least it keeps you on your toes.

Middle Atlas

Riding along the ridges of the middle atlas. This is what I came here for. I cruise through this town called Mrirt. I thought about donating a vowel to help them out, but then decided that Unesco probably has a department for this sort of thing.



The town comes and goes with its own happenings. Goats tied to the tops of vans bleating for freedom, trucks overloaded beyond any sensibility and me on the cruiser.

I get off the bike and walk down the street in my leathers with the Camelbak swinging on my shoulder. Old men stop and stare, while teenagers point to the bike and touch their heart to show appreciation. This town is cool.

Middle Atlas Mountains

Took the bike up the middle atlas mountains into a town called Azrou. The winding roads are a treat after riding the toll roads here. A few beers and a yummy tagine later, and the world seems pretty good. Some Dutch girls come over to talk and try to get me to drink with them. I blow them out - not really up for it. I miss Nic, boo.

Volubilis

Went to Morroco's biggest roman ruins, Volubilis. A whole roman town, complete with an arc d'triumf still there after hundreds of years. There are still complete mosaics there. It was very cool.



Getting lost on the bike for about 60km was less fun but the people would all help me find my way.

Into Morocco

Crossed to Morocco on the ferry. Was fairly easy. It helped that I can't speak French because when customs asked me any questions I would just shrug my shoulders and say I don't understand. Eventually we would settle with making brmmm sounds at each other and pointing at my bike.



Was sad leaving Nic this time. We won't see each other for a month, boo.