So far I’ve made myself a coffee with water from a tap and drank it out of my favourite cup and have had a quick lay down on the most comfy bed in the whole world. I also said “Hi” to one of my cats who ignored me completely. Nothing really changes.

So, I’ve completed my trip to the Sahara desert and back I thought I would share my thoughts with you.

Saying that this trip will completely change my life would perhaps be an exaggeration however it’s simply impossible not to be affected by it in many ways.

Firstly, seeing people in Morocco working so hard to simply sustain a very basic life will, I hope, help me to appreciate the things I have and the life I lead. Because of the low average wage in Morocco, Moroccans pay about 8 times as much for fuel as we do pro-rata. There are many financial examples I could give but I’m not only talking about money. We never turn on the tap to find there is no water, we never turn on the lights to find no electricity, we never avoid going to the doctors when we are ill because we can’t afford it. Those things put English life into perspective and make you realise that we have it good here.

Secondly, many times in southern Morocco people with nothing invited me for coffee and bread and would not let me pay. Their kindness and generosity will stay with me and, I hope, make me a better person.

Thirdly, successfully dealing with the many hard times that were thrown at me in Morocco has had a marked affect on my confidence. When I went to Morocco on my bike in 2009 I noticed a big increase in confidence and this time in 2012, having gone much further south and experienced a far more difficult time I feel more confident than ever. I run a number of small companies and there are big changes in the pipeline because of various factors. I know I will be able to make the most of these changes and direct them well.

Fourthly, when one hears of the turmoil in various parts of the world it’s easy to think “Aaaah, but they’re used to it”, or “But they know nothing else”. However it’s not like that. The people I met who have nothing still crave after a better life, a new iPhone, better car or better house. They’re not any different to us here in England. They try to start businesses to make money and be successful. On the road to Merzouga I was stopped taking some photographs when a young man of about 15 slowly rode up to me on his donkey. His English was not bad but the conversation was difficult nonetheless. I said hello and patted his donkey. He said he was going to Erachidia which was about 100 miles away and that it would take about 10 days which was 8 days riding and 2 days off for the donkey. We talked for about half an hour about all sorts, he said his donkey was the best in Morocco as he gave it good food and lots of love which was great to hear. It did look far better fed and kept than others I had seen. Before I set off I asked why he was going to Erachidia. He told me in not so many words that he had a delivery business, he was slow but hard working and reliable. Obviously in England a delivery service that relied upon the speed of a donkey would not be overly successful however he was no different to me really. Trying new things, getting new customers, looking after existing customers and hoping for profits. Before I left he told me that if he worked hard he would be able to afford a new phone soon. He showed me his current phone which looked about 50 years old! All the numbers had been rubbed off the buttons and there was a large crack on the tiny screen. It only worked when plugged into the charger as the battery had died but it was his pride possession along with his donkey. I got on the bike waiting for him to ask me for some money but he didn’t. I donated 10 Euros towards his new iPhone which was graciously received.

Fifthly (is there such a word?), I noted that even when you’re completely exhausted, hungry, sore and being cooked by the most violent heat you can imagine you always have enough in you to carry on. You just have to get up and do it! I stopped in a place called Zagora whilst on the way to the desert in Merzouga, Zegora was unbearably hot but I was told that Merzouga was about 10 degrees hotter. Even the locals were avoiding it. On the way to Merzouga I was stopped by the police who told me it was too hot for a motorcycle. All I wanted to do was turn back and find somewhere with air conditioning but I carried on regardless and I made it.

Lots of things happened on my journey that I have not written about in my blog simply because I didn’t have the time to add everything. If I did include everything it would compete with War and Peace as far as length is concerned.

Going away is exciting but coming back is better. I’ve missed you England.

Anyway, I left the camp site in the pouring rain at around 10:30. It was an incredibly miserable ride and bloody dangerous too. The weather was producing sun and blue skies followed by torrential rain combined with a strong wind. I found myself riding through heavy rain into the bright sun. The combination of fogged up glasses, a visor that I just couldn’t see through because it was fogged up on the inside and being rained on hard on the outside, and riding into the bright sun simply meant I could not see. I had to guess where the road was many a time. Still, I’m still alive, if not a bit pruny, so it couldn’t have been that bad!

Whilst I was riding through the rain today trying to see the where the road was going I thought back to my time being cooked in the desert, at that time I couldn’t think of anything better than cold weather and rain. The grass is always greener on the other side!

I stopped at a petrol station to fill up and a chap came over and started looking at the bike. It turned out that he was from England, John was here with his wife and son and daughter, I think they were travelling around France. He said he had a bike and that he couldn’t believe I had been all the way to the Sahara on it. It made me think that actually neither could I! As I was getting on the bike a French lady leaned out of her window and told me that I was going the wrong way and that the Sahara was that way, it made me smile.

At my next fill up I realised that I would not have to fill up again before getting home which was a wonderful feeling, I was nearly home. Originally my plan for today was to get 100 miles from Dieppe but I ended up going pretty much all the way. Tomorrow morning I’ll get myself and my bike to Dieppe, get a ticket, jump on the ferry and chill until I get to England. I’ve missed England very much and am looking forward to being home with my wife, son, dog and 3 cats.

I’m now at a camp site just outside of Dieppe, I was assigned pitch number 87 which is next door to a lovely couple who have cycled to Paris on their bycicles. I mentioned Buxted and to my surprise the chap knew it, he went to school in Nutley!

All I’ve had to eat today is a slice of apply pie, which was lovely by the way, and I’m starving but can’t be bothered to go to the shop. It’s an early night for me then home.

Sunday morning update
==================
Last night the people in the tent next to mine came over and gave me some sausage, bread, cheese and a tomato. I thanked them and ate like a king! We talked for some time and it turned out they were students going through medical school. As tempting it was to show them how sore my arse was I decided against it, knowing doctors they would probably wanted to stick their finger up it which I’m not too partial to. I went to bed content listening to the rain on the tent.

I woke up this morning at 5:45 with my mobile phone alarm going off. It was a sound from home that I didn’t much like. I usually leave the phone switched off but must have left it on when I went to sleep last night.

Last night when chatting to my tent next door neighbours I found that there was a ferry sailing from Dieppe to Newhaven leaving at 6pm, however I remember that when booking the ticket in the opposite direction there were usually two sailings per day. I had a choice to make, get up early and catch the early ferry if there was one or take it easy and catch the one at six o’clock. I could hear no rain on the tent and was hoping that I would unzip the door and be confronted by a glorious blue sky however, I unzipped the door to find dark grey skies all over. It was going to rain, hard.

The rain held off whilst I packed everything onto the bike and got ready for my 9 mile trip to Dieppe. I got on my bike and rode off, within about 1 minute of being on the road the heavens opened and I got soaked right through. Luckily being Sunday morning the roads were quiet so all I had to miss were buildings and trees. I made it to Dieppe and rode into the port. Unluckily, being Sunday, everything was closed. As the rain came down harder than ever I decided to take shelter under the overhang of a building. As I did the automatic door slid open and let me in. It was the ticket office, great! The next ferry home was at 6pm and the ticket was 100 Euros, not great!

I could go for a trip around Dieppe on the bike and find a nice cafe and have some breakfast but the weather outside can only be described by the word deluge. I’ve decided to stay in the ticket office with the coffee machine and snack machine to keep me company. I’ll have an espresso and a packet of M&M’s for breakfast please machine.

Today I got up early, had a salad for breakfast and got underway. I left Rabat at around 9am and rode directly to Ceuta. It took me about 5 hours to cover the 190 miles. I expected to have a nervous feeling about crossing the border back into Spain but it never happened, perhaps I’m toughening up afterall. As I got closer to the border which is at Fnideq I started seeing signs for ferry tickets so decided to stop and get a price. 780 Dirhams. I looked through my wallet and my tank bag and every other location but could only muster about 300. Bugger.

My memory is terrible but I thought I remembered getting back across the border from Morocco to Spain was easy, how wrong could I have been, there are about 10 places where you have to stop. One for sniffer dogs, one for passport, one for exiting Morocco, one for my Morocco number in my passport, one for for checking the contents of my panniers and tank bag, then all the same again. After finally exiting Morocco I then had to get into Spain, being a British passport holder I thought that would be easy, how stupid of me. I got to the Spanish gates and was asked to remove everything from my panniers. They weren’t really interested in anything except for the bag of 35 spices I bought from Marrakesh. When he took them away I thought back to the program I had watched whilst sitting in the cafe waiting for my wife. I hoped and prayed that they really were 35 spices! The border chap came back and told me that the spices were good and that I could go.. Excellent!

The next step was getting to the port. I followed the signs and ended up at the official ticket office. It cost me 58 Euros for the ferry ticket and they took Visa which made me happy. I paid and made my way to the port in Ceuta. When I got to the port the security chap asked me to open my panniers and tank bag so the sniffer dogs could do their job. I had a pair of extremely smelly socks that I had been wearing for the past few days and hoped the dog would survive. The dog was fine but did stop for some time to savour my socks!

The ferry crossing took about an hour as I was on one of the older ones that didn’t seem to have any urgency whatsoever. I asked some Moroccan people to look after my bags and jacket for me when I went by buy a drink, the lemon lilt hit the mark perfectly. Once in Spain I rode around Algeciras for a while until I stumbled upon a cash point machine as I’d need some Euros for the tolls, food and camping. I drew out 300 which I hope will last me all the way back but we’ll see. I found a camp site about 40 miles north east of Algeciras which is nice. When I arrived a German chap called Jorg and his daughter said “Hi” and I ended up having diner with them. I’ve just had a very nice Irish coffee and am about to go to bed.

Tomorrow I will probably head north from here through the hills for a few hundred miles until I find another nice camp site. Oh the choices?!

608 miles through central Spain.
=========================

Hello everyone. Today has been long and hard. I left the town of Estepona this morning at 8am and headed in a north easterly direction with the intention of trying to ride 300 miles. I got to the 300 mile point and asked my GPS to get me to a camp site. I tried 3 but they were either mobile home cities or closed. I decided to try another 100 miles north but again no luck. I have finally found a nice camp site just north of a town called Zaragoza. I’ve just checked my GPS for today’s mileage and have achieved my record; 608 miles, not kilometres but miles! It took me 13 hours and I’m completely knackered.

As always there were a few events along the way. Around the half way mark I was on the motorway over taking an articulated lorry whilst going round a left bend when the tyre on the truck literally exploded. The tyre that blew was about 15 feet in front of me and bits of tyre went everywhere, I got hit by two quite large lumps of tyre (one on my chest and the other on my crash helmet) but managed to stay on. I was going about 70 mph and the lorry about 65. Immediately after the tyre exploded the lorry wandered over to my lane so I had to turn hard to miss it. The natural reaction is to brake but that causes the bike to stand up and want to go straight on, my fingers went for the brake but luckily I didn’t pull the leaver, I leant the bike right over and turned in hard and hoped my tyres were up to the job. Everything seemed to go in slow motion but turned out okay. Everyone slowed to a stop amid all the sparks and smoke that was coming from the lorry’s wheel. I stopped my bike in front of the lorry and got off. As I got off the bike I could hear lots of skidding but luckily there were no crashes. When you’re just a little bike with no seat belt, no air bags and no metal protection around you it’s always a little daunting when riding next to large trucks, I usually try to get past them quickly but never really knew why. Now I know why.

I had to refuel a numbr of times today, the fuel stops usually costs me about 15 Euros. Then surprisingly at one stop the bill was 270 Euros. My Spanish is limited to hello, good bye and one two and three so I tried to explain that there must have been a mistake. The chap kept on asking for my card but there was no way I was going to give it to him until we finialised a realistic price. There was a bit of an argument where my solution, to the displeasure of the chap, was to simply sit on the floor with folded arms and not pay. I heard the word policia amoungst his shouting which I was happy about. However the police were not called as a truck driver turned up and paid his 270 Euros worth of diesel. The chap then smiled and charged me 15 Euros for my petrol. It doesn’t take a Cambridge student to work out that a bike cannot take, or run on, 270 Euros of diesel. I didn’t bother smiling, paid my bill and promptly fucked off.

After having no luck with the camp sites I ended up opening up the throttle a little too much and got caught for speeding. I was waved down so I stopped. The policeman blabered on in Spanish. I listened to his 5 minute tirade and then said “English”. He took a deep breath and continued in Spainsh. Not understanding a single word of what he was talking about I decided to get on the bike and drive off. He did lots of shouting but there was no police chase that I was aware of. Hopefully I will not be arrested at the border but only time will tell.

So, here I am at the camp site. I ordered some food thinking it was salad with vegetables but what turned up was calamari which was fine by me.

I’m now sitting in my tent about to go to sleep. I think I’ve successfully managed to keep all the mosquisos out of my tent and I don’t think the 30 degree temperature will stop me from sleeping. I have my water bottles and my wee bottle so I’m all set for a good nights sleep.

Tororrow I will cross into France via the Pyranees and see how far north I can get. I’m on a mission now to gey home. I miss my wife.

No alarm for me, I’ll wake up when I wake up. Nighty night.

Today I found Heaven!
==================
I woke up this morning, packed my tent away and left the site at around 8:30. I told my GPS to take me to a town called Pau in southern France. The distance was about 120 miles. When I got underway the GPS started jumping around all over the place, one minute it was saying “Turn left in 20 miles”, then after just one mile it would say turn right in 40 metres. This kept on happening so I switched it off and used signs. I’m not sure if the GPS update I did before leaving England worked or not but it didn’t know about loads of new roads and roundabouts. I was getting more and more pissed off with being lost without the GPS so when the Police chose me for a random breath test I had to bite my tongue, hard! I was the model Englishmen and scored a zero on their meter which made them happy. After about 2 hours the scenery started to change, I was in the French Pyranees and it was beautiful. I didn’t have a clue where I was going but I didn’t care. I entered a 3 mile long tunnel and when I came out the other side I was in France and it was even more beautiful. The French Pyranees is simply Heaven on Earth with beautifully well kept little villages, perfect roads, very little traffic and the most incredible views everywhere. After the brown of Morocco the green was very welcome. Just what I needed!

I decided to try to GPS again in France and see how it faired. Perfect. I fancied seeing some of France so I told it to take me to Dieppe without using the toll roads, I knew I would not make it all the way but that was my ultimate destination. It took me west towards the coast then north, I rode through some small villages which were so typically French it made me smile. I stopped at a small shop and bought a brown mini French stick, some pate and some ham, then rode on until I found a nice quiet spot to eat.

At that point the weather was perfect, it was 26 degrees with a deep blue sky, however the closer to England I got the darker it became. In the distance I could see some very dark areas of sky with lots of lightning. I checked the GPS and that was exactly where I was heading. The temperature went down to about 15 degrees and the rain poured down. I rode in the rain for about another 2 hours until I was completely sodden.

Let me tell you about riding a motorbike in the rain. The first thing to note is that a motorbike has a much higher power to weight ratio than a car. It also only has tiny pieces of rubber the size of a 50 pence piece in contact with the ground, so opening up the throttle in 1st, 2nd or 3rd gears on anything except a straight is likely to end unhappily. Also, if a car is going round a bend and hits something slippery like oil, diesel or even a drain cover there are other wheels that will keep the grip. On a motorbike you’re on your arse. We have to look out for various things on the road that are not good to ride over in the wet including, diesel, oil, drain covers, white lines, shiney tar, cats eyes, etc, etc. So I think I’ve explained that you need to keep your eyes on the road. The big problem is that we don’t have wipewrs so our vision is terrible. Also, it’s important to look over your shoulders a lot on a bike and when you do the water and wind from outside goes straight down your back. Then there is your groin, the water hits your jacket and runs down into your groin. Not nice! Now I’ve writen that I’m looking forward to getting into my comfortable car!

I stopped at a petrol station, filled the bike up and told the GPS to find me a camp site. I did toy with the idea of a hotel but I would feel like a bit of a wimp if I opted for a hotel. Call yourself a man Richard? By the time I got to the camp site I was literally praying to every God I’d ever heard of that it would be open. It was open, yay! I walked into reception leaving a trail of water behind me. I paid my 6 Euros and found a nice grass pitch and managed the fastest erection ever (!!!). About 1 minute.

So, here I am now sitting in my tent typing my blog listening to the rain hammering down on the outside of my tent. I’m wondering if I can get to Dieppe tomorrow, it’s only about 330 miles away. The problem is that the ferry crossing takes about 4 hours so I’ll probably arrive too late. I think I’ll try to get most of the distance covered tomorrow, then get a ticket for the next day. Oh the fun I have!

The day before Flowie, Mia and Elaine turned up I decided to get a taxi to the location of our Riad and then ask the locals until I found the place. I waited by the road for a taxi but had no luck. I decided to start walking the 5 miles in the hope I’d be able to spot a taxi though there were just none around and I ended up walking all the way. I got to the right area but could not find the Riad so I asked someone who asked someone else who asked another person, etc. After about an hour of wandering around we finally stumbled on it by accident. Getting lost in Marrakesh is very expensive as everyone charges for directions. When we finally found the Riad I’d clocked up the equilivent of about £20 in ‘finders fees’. Having said that my patience was wearing thin and I’d happily have paid double that! I set a point in my GPS so I would be able to find it again and walked back to the hotel. On the way back I found myself in a cafe, one of the street sellers who walked over to me had lots of beautiful wooden boxes. When abroad I tend to find myself speaking in a strange way, seperating out all the words in the hope that someone will understand me, then for some weird reason I tend to put on some kind of accent. I was looking at a wooden box from the street seller and found myself doing a perfect Borat impression. “It is very nice, I like, very much..”. I heard myself and laughed, I said Borat to myself, the salesman laughed and said Borat and made me do it again. We had a good laugh, they obviously know Borat over here.

When I got back to the hotel decided to go through my stuff and pack it all up into the smallest space possible, I found the two cheap teeshirts that I bought from the supermarket. XL they said, shuld be nice and baggy for the bike. I put one of them on which was a bit of a squeeze and then found that the neck was so bloody tight that I was unable to get the bloody thing off! After about 5 minutes of struggling I gave up and just grabbed the neck and stretched it hard. A few minutes later I managed to get it off. Only me!

The Riad is on a tiny lane/path and to get to it you need to make lots of turns. The lanes are wide enough for me to get my bike through but not wide enough for me to turn it around and as I was bound to make a few wrong turns. Even with my trusty GPS I was very apprehensive about taking the heavy bike into the souks/lanes. When I arrived back at the Ibis Hotel I asked El Hucine if it would be possible for me to leave my bike in their secure parking for a few days for a fee. He said it was no problem but they would not accept payment as they would do it for me for free. So the plan in my head was that Flowie, Mia and Elaine would get a taxi from the airport to my hotel. They would up me and my luggage and take us to the Riad. I texted Flowie to tell her I had a plan, however there was a problem. The Riad had arranged for a taxi to pick them up from the airport and taking them directly to the Riad. My plan was scappered.

After thinking about it I decided to take the bike to the Riad afterall. Flowie had emailed the owner and asked if they had onsite and secure parking for the bike and was told that it would not be a problem. I really didn’t fancy the idea of lugging all my heavy stuff with me from where ever the taxi would drop me off to the Riad so the riding there was definately going to be the best option.

So, the next morning I got up, had some breakfast and checked out of the comfortable hotel. I didn’t fancy taking the bike through the souks when it was busy and my friends were not turning up at the Riad until around 9pm so I needed to waste a day. I visited a few cafes and had some coffee, went for a ride around the city walls and visited more cafes. Then I found a nice comfortable cafe that was air conditioned and made it my home for the next few hours. They had a large TV on the wall which was tuned into the National Geographic channel. My favourite! I sat there for about 5 hours and watched loads of programs whilst drinking coffee and eating iced cream and sorbets. All was going well until ‘Banged up Abroad’ came on the TV. It was difficult to understand all the details as it was in Arabic but I got the gist of what was happening. A man had gone on holiday abroad on his own to a place that looked very much like Morocco but may have been somewhere else I’m not sure. He was sitting in a cafe having a drink and all was well in his world. When he decided to leave he was told to get into a van by some gunmen who promptly kidnapped him and held him captive for 3 years! I watched the program for an hour with real interest, it was fascinating. When it was finished I found that my mood had changed, I had gone from looking forward to seeing my wife and friends to being scared of being kidnapped! Morocco is full of what we believe look like shady individuals but are just normal people going about their daily business. Obviously I was not kidnapped and nothing bad happened at all however, if you are going to be travelling alone in a foreign country I would strongly advise you not to watch Banged up Abroad!

Anyway, the time ebbed away slowly and before I knew it it was time to leave and ride to the Riad. I paid and jumped on the bike. The cafe was only about 3 miles away from the Riad and I was hoping against hope that with the help of the GPS I would be able to get there using main roads and only the last 200 metres would be small lanes. Unfortunately this was not so! I was hoping it would be quiet in the evening but this was also not so. I rode about half a mile then entered the souks, many of the souks and little lanes have very high walls and corrigated iron roofs which means the GPS jumps around all over the place. This was not what I needed. There were mopeds and people everywhere, donkeys pulling carts, cats, kids playing, people grabbing me as I wobbled along, one chap asked me if I wanted to smoke some weed and shoot a Klashnikov! Everyone was asking me to visit their shop “Gratis they would say”, “Gratis for a butchers” they said which made me laugh. Even with the bike on tickover in first gear it trundles along faster than walking speed. I was having to use my clutch to go as slow as I needed to go. If I went any faster I’d definately run someone over, it was like a real game of frogger, the little buggers come out of everywhere! Then I arrived at my first dead end. I got off the bike and pushed it backwards for about 50 feet until I got back to the next choice of lanes as the bike was too big to turn around. Some of the locals wanted to try to lift up the front to turn it around but couldn’t even get it off the ground. That was the first of 3 dead ended I visited. I had to take my GPS to a place where the sky was visible, work out where I was, then go back to the bike and try to remember where I was supposed to go. Where the GPS simply said “left” the actual options on the ground were sharp left, sharpish left, left, mild left or not right. I just guessed but finally after about 3 hours turned up outside the Riad. Thank Christ for that! I got outside and revelled in the fact that I had finally found the place and that I could get the bike inside and forget about riding through the souks for the next few days.

I turned on my mobile phone and received a text from Flowie saying where are you. I replied “Outside the front door of the Riad”. She opened the front door with a smile and gave me a big hug which was just what I needed. I asked the chap where I could put the bike and was promptly told that they could not have the bike in the Riad. Bollocks! It turned out that Flowie, Mia and Elaine had turned up at the Riad, Mia had been asked if she wanted jiggy jiggy with the luggage man, all the lights were off, all the furniture was packed away and they could not even get a drink. She was not happy! I tried talking the man into letting me put the bike in the entrance of the Riad but he had a better idea. I was to follow him. I dumped all my luggage and got back on the bike. After about 15 minutes of following I was shown a busy place in the souks which was a car park for mopeds. I was told to leave my bike there. As much as it didn’t feel like a great idea from previous experience I knew it would be safe. I locked up the bike and went back to the Riad.

I got back to the riad to find Flowie’s mood had deteriorated further. Yay, the holiday begins! They had managed to find some water in the Riad then we all headed off to the El Fna Square for some food. Needless to say the GPS was completely useless as the high walls meant it struggled to find a signal in most places. In the end I grabbed a bloke and asked him how much to take us to the El Fna Square. He started at 100 Dirhams (about £8) so I walked on and ignored him. The price finally reached 20 Dirhams and I took him up on his offer repeating 20 Dirhams to the square a number of times. After about 20 minutes of walking around we finally got close to the square. He must have taken us the scenic route as we now do it in about 10 minutes. He then told me that 20 Dirhams was rubbish and that he could not even buy one joint for that and that he needed joints of his family! I told him that he shouldn’t have offered 20 if he was not happy with 20. We finally got to the square and I gave him 35 Dirhams as I was so pleased to finally be there. He told me that 35 Dirhams was nothing so we walked off and left him. Unfortunately the first few places we tried to eat at were closed as it was getting late. We finally found a place and sat down to eat. We ordered our drinks and then our food. Elaine and I decided to walk into the square and have a look around. In the middle of the square in the evening they have food stalls like a giant BBQ, you simply park your bottom on a bench and they bring you some food. It’s just a mass of benches and smoke! The first one Elaine and I saw had a sheeps head (including it’s eyes) sitting on the table. We looked around for a while and went back to eat. We had chicken targine and it was very nice.

By the time we finished our meal we were all completely knacked so we followed the GPS, which thankfully worked a treat, back to the Riad and went to sleep.

The following morning we all woke up and all met for breakfast. It was decided that the Riad was not as bad it it seemed the night before. The morning light revealed quite a nice Riad afterall. The plunge pool was cool and deep, the breakfast wasn’t bad and we were all in better moods. We decided to visit the El Fna square again for a look around and then some of the souks. Flowie being Flowie managed to get her head around the directions which was a gift from heaven! So, we set off for the square, after about 10 minutes were were all getting tired of being told “The Mosque is closed, you cannot go that way” and “You want to go to the square?” that Flowie decided on a tactic. The next chap who came up to us didn’t even get given a chance to open his mouth! Flowie jumped in immediately with “You want to know the way to the Post Office? 100 Dirhams!” He looked at Flowie with a confused look on his face and Flowie continued. “Okay 90 Dirhams, I will direct you”. He smiled and got the joke. We continued to the square.

The day was comprised of looking around the square, visiting some of the souks and having a number of restaurante stops. After a long and hard day we followed Flowie back to the Riad.

That evening we decided that we would spend the following day shopping in the souks, then the day after taking a trip into the mountains to see a waterfall.

The following day we made our way through the souks and haggled like never before, Many purchases were made but usually only after an hour or so of hard haggling. Everyone tells you a different story so you have no idea who is telling the truth. When you’re haggling you don’t really know what price you should be paying other than to convert the price into British Pounds so you just do your best. I tried to purchase some scented oil for a friend and was told 200 Dirhams, I just walked away muttering under my breath that I was not stupid. Needless to say I was followed for the next 10 minutes but the persuit ended when I went into another shop and bought exactly the same oil for 40 Dirhams with no haggling. Flowie got the hump too with rediculous starting prices, She asked the price of a crappy plastic fridge magnet that in England would have been about £1, the conversion was around the £10 mark. She made her point by storming out of the shop. She got her fridge magnet in another shop 1 minute away with fixed prices for about 60 pence.

The El Fna square is not the best place to be with a snake phobia and Flowie has a snake phobia. We gave that part of the square a very wide berth but there are people who come up to you all over the square with large pythons and cobras and try to put them round your neck. There are also people who try to sell wooden toy snakes. When someone came up to Flowie with a wooden snake and jigged it in front of her she nearly died, she screamed and run away like Lindford Christie! This happened a couple of times and the word went around that there was a nutty woman who HATED snakes so they all gave her lots of space which was nice of them. For the rest of that day Flowie was very jumpy and on guard and when someone came up to us in one of the souks with some belts and jiggled them in front of us like a snake Flowie screamed and burst into tears. Luckily he was some distance away as my natural reaction was to get thumpy which is never a good reaction. I think the belt seller was more scared of Flowie than she was of his belts but he appologised and showed us that they were only belts. No one likes scaring people and the people there were just going about there daily business, no one deliberatly targetted Flowie and once they knew it didn’t happen again. Seeing my wife scared shitless and burst into tears changed my mood completely and as much as I know it’s the wrong thing to do if it had happened again I’d have thumped someone. Luckily it didn’t. It’s just the heat and out of control nature of the place.

That evening we visited a fantastic restaurant that served the most beautiful food and good wine too. We then made our way back to the Riad for a swim, natter and bed. I think it was here that Elaine told Mia the the jiggy jiggy luggage man would have wanted paying for sex! Elaine started to back track but Mia told her that she had dug her hole and something along the lines of shut the fuck up.

The following day we all got up early and met up with our guide for the trip to the Ourika and the mountains. I think we were all a little sceptical but when we met our guides which was Mohamed, who was only 17, and his uncle we knew we were in for a really good day. Mohamed spoke superb English with an American accent and was so full of beans and life that you could not help but instantly like him. On the journey to the mountains we talked about loads of things including his trip to America where he had spent the last year studying after winning a scolarship, and religion. Mohamed was happy to answer our questions on Islam and on his own life. It was fascinating. We visited a few places on the way which was fine by us and then got to Ourika. Ourike was a large market where to locals go each week to get all their groceries. It was great walking around seeing the market in full swing. We saw some chicks that had been died all kinds of different colours, I know it’s not nice but they were very sweet. Flowie bought a basket and was immediately joined by a chap who tried to sell her a neclace for the entire duration of our visit. Even when we got in the minibus he was standing there outside knocking on Flowie’s window saying “What you wanna pay?”. That’s real persistance!

When we arrived at the mountains for a little trek we found that you have to have to have an official guide so Mohamed got us one named Said and got the price right down for us which was great. He showed us his license and was very helpful. When we finally got the treking part were all realised how stupid our choice of footware was, Me, Flowie and Elaine were in sandals and Mia was in flip flops. We all made it up the first part but Mia’s flips flops were just not up the the job of the last part and waited for us at a kind of cafe. It was a proper climb to get up to see the waterfall but it was worth it. The water was very cold but it didn’t stop Flowie and Elaine from getting in. I took the photographs and we all triped and stumbled our way back down to meet Mia. When we finally got to Mia she informed us that we had taken all the money with us but luckily the coke vendor looked after her and gave her a coke, etc. We paid up and headed back to the minibus. Once we reached the road we could see a large minibus full of kids and women that was trying hard to do a 15 point turn. The front wheels were about a foot from the edge and getting closer. The men, who were safely on the ground, were all shouting instructions. It was mayhem!

On the way back Mohamed asked us if we wanted to visit a place that sold verious oils and herbs. We said yes and half an hour later we turned up. It was fascinating, they had an amazing array of herbs and plants in their gardens and we were told of their uses by a very knowledgable chap who spoke good English. Then we went inside and he showed us the finished products and the prices. He then left us to browse around and decide what we wanted. The first thing that happened was that Flowie somehow managed to squirt a concoction of 35 spices into her eye! She was promptly taken to the bathroom where she washed it under the tap. 10 minutes later her eye was fine, just a little bloodshot. Then Elaine managed to twist her ankle and was taken hobbling to a room where she was given a massage on her swollen foot. Then Mia took off her hat and her glasses went flying across the room and one of the lenses popped out, needless to say they jumped in and fixed Mia’s glasses. We made our purchases and got back in the minibus before any other disasters could occur! I can’t help but feel we would not be welcome there again!

On the way back we decided that we needed some alcohol so Mohamed came to the rescue, he said he could not buy it for us because of his beliefs but he could take us to a supermarket that sold it. Flowie and Mia disappeared into the supermarket and Elaine and I sat by the mini bus and waited for them, and we waited, and we waited. Elaine and Mohamed were going through Elains iPod music collection singing away happily whilst I watched the dented cars go by. Flowie and Mia finally came back after and what had been quite a hard time with two bottles of wine. Yay!

We decided that we would get dropped in the El Fna square and have some food on the benches in the middle. So we said goodbye to Mohamed and his uncle and paid them with a nice tip for being so good. Unfortunately Elains ankle seemed to be getting worse and I had a thumping headache from lack of caffiene so we dicided to go to the nearest cafe for a coffee and water. We toyed with the idea of getting a man with a trolley to take Elaine but she just hobbled on. She found that if she walked on the side of her foot she could get up to almost full speed. Mia’s body had run out of energy so the guards were up. We sat down at the cafe and had some coffee and discussed where we were going to eat. I went out and found one of the BBQ things that was up and running but there was a bloody great python between us and benches. I told Flowie but she was fine. It’s when she is suprised that bad things happen. We had couscous, chicken, lamb, squid and bread and it was lovely though the chicken was not cooked so we left that. There were no sheeps heads thankfully.

Once we’d eaten we walked back to the riad to start on our wine. On the way back through the souks we saw a cart carrying what we thought was a body covered by a blanket. Me being me quietly said “Bring out your dead.” from good old Monty Python. Then we saw another one but poking out from under the blanket was some bread. I think the blanket was there to keep the flies off. Me being me said “Bring out your bread.” We all had a little chuckle.

Anyway, we got back to the Riad, drank the wine and chatted for a few hours. Mia perked up back to her normal self and we had a great evening. I said my good byes to Elaine and Mia as I’d be gone before breakfast. Flowie carried most of my luggage to the bike about 10 minutes walk away. I said my goodbyes to my wife and started getting the bike packed and ready. I stopped and walked over to the middle of the lane and could see Flowie in the disance walking back to the Riad to get ready to go back to the airport. I stood there and watched her in case she turned around but she didn’t. I was very sad.

The lanes were very quiet so my made my way back to the road in about 3 minutes where I set my destination for Casablanca. After about 120 miles I arrived at Casablanca to find that the hotel had no rooms available. I visited 5 other hotels and 2 rooms but they were all fully booked so I got back on my bike and headed north East to Rabat. Luckily the Ibis Hotel here in Rabat had rooms so I booked one. Most of the Ibis hotels I have been staying in are called Ibis Budget Hotels, this one is just called Ibis Hotel and is supposed to be a bit posher but the only difference I have found so far is that it’s bloody expensive for a room and the price of water and coffee is almost double. I’ll be going out tonight to get my drinks and food.

When I got here I was looking forward to pluging in my iPad and giving it a good charge as I’ve got the chargers now that Flowie brought from England. I’ve just plugged it in but guess what. Everything will charge with the exception of the iPad. Luckily it was 80% charged so I’ve been able to write this blog and upload my photographs.

Tomorrow I’m going to ride to Ceuta, get across the border and then get a ferry over to Spain. I’m looking forward to camping again.

Somehow, to the horror of my friends, I have managed to completely omit the fact that my friends have turned up here in Marrakesh. So, I would like to take this opportunity to rectify this abhorrent situation by mentioning the fabulous Elaine and super lovely Mia. With the exception of the first night which was, shall we say tense, everyone has been in great form and is enjoying the madness of Marrakesh.

I will be writing about the following once I leave Marrakesh and head north:

–My dismal time dodging donkeys, mopeds and people playing frogger in order to get my bike through the incredibly busy souks to find our Riad.

–I get asked if I want to get high and shoot a Klashnikov!

–Finally I get to see my wonderful wife, but she’s not a happy bunny!

–Me and my Borat impression.

–Don’t watch ‘Banged up Abroad’ when abroad alone.

–I finally have working chargers!

–How I got my head stuck in a teeshirt that was too small :-(

–Flowie gets a bit miffed at people offering to take us the the square so decides on a tactic.

Today I found the Riad. It really is incredibly hard to find!!! I walked to the rough location, then had to ask a man to help, he had to ask another man, who then asked another man, in the end we walked around so much that we finally found it. I then cleaverly added the exact location as a favourite in my GPS. Now, it is in an area that is a complete nightnare for motorbikes so I have arranged to keep the motorbike here in secure parking at the Ibis Hotel.

Here is what I suggest. You get a taxi from the airport to the Ibis Marrakesh Palmerie Hotel where I am staying, there are two Ibis hotels in Marrakesh so make sure you tell the driver that it is the Palmerie Ibis Hotel.

When you get here I will jump in with my luggage and we can get the taxi driver to take us all there, if he can’t find it I can help him with the GPS..

How does this sound to you?

Can you please confirm that you have received this and that you are happy with these arrangements.

I am very excited about seeing you all (especially you my lovely!). I am missing you a lot now :-)

Enjoy your night of freedom from us boys!

Love you
Richard
xxxx

Anyway, I needed at least 2 teeshirts and 2 pairs of boxers so I asked for a 2 teeshirts without the massive metal and leather plate attached to the breast. I bought two teeshirts and 2 pair of boxer shorts. I got back here to find the metal plate attached to one of them. I will go back tomorrow and get it swapped for one without a metal plate. This time I will check it over myself.

I at least managed to navigate around the souks without getting too lost today. I took my compass and GPS and using them together is excellent. Whilst I was walking back to the El Fna square a young man of about 25 told me “This way to the El Fna”. I said I know the way and don’t need a guide. He was like a yoyo, whatever I did I could not get rid of the irritating little git. I firmly said no a number of times and told him I would not pay for something I didn’t want or need but it didn’t seem to make any difference. When we finally turned up at the square and he asked me for money I laughed and told asked him “For what?”, he said he was a good guide. I told him that I didn’t want or need one 20 minutes ago. He insisted on following me for the next 20 minutes trying to persuade me to pay him for his trouble but when he tried to take my wallet out of my pocket I finally snapped. I grabbed him and in loud and concise English told him to FUCK OFF! Finally he left me to my own devices.

If you spend too much time in Marrakesh you actually start to turn into a mobile cash point machine. Well, this cash point is now closed, pissed off and dangerous. It’s such a shame as the Morocco people on the whole are lovely, friendly and would bend over backwards to help you. Here in Marrakesh though you have to be careful. I’m sure that most of the people are great but the exceptions ruin it for the rest and are what you remember.

Whilst in the souks I asked the GPS to locate the Riad that Flowie has booked and it found it (or somewhere close). It’s right in the middle of a load of tiny little and incredibly busy lanes. I’m not sure but I think to get to it you have to go through all the tiny lanes. There is no way I’m going to be able to get my bike through the souks. Simply trying to walk through them is a complete nightmare, I can’t even imagine it with the bike all loaded up. I’m probably going to just pay to leave the bike in the secure parking of the Ibis Hotel.

When I finally got back to the hotel I was looking forward to getting all my devices plugged in and charging but suprise suprise the chargers I bought don’t work. I told the lady at the reception of the hotel that I needed to charge my iPad, she kindly tried plugging it into her computer but that didn’t work either. She suggested I go to the supermarket as they may well have a proper iPad charger. It is a 20 minutes walk so I’ll go later when it’s a bit cooler. 42 degrees today.

I thought Marrakesh was going to be the pinnicle of my trip but it’s been the bad part. To be completely honest, I can’t wait to get back home to England where no means no, where the price advertised is the price you pay and where when you buy something it works. I’m just thankful that I always keep my hand on my wallet.

What a shit day.
———————-
Update: I’ve now had a little, food and sleep in my nice cool room and feel much more calm and positive. I’m sitting here wondering how I got myself into such a bad mood, I think the combination of the chap grabbing my wallet out of my pocket, being hot and flustered and not having any decent food caused my mood to go down hill fast. I’ve been using this holiday as a little diet, just eating a small piece of bread/dry cake for breakfast and then having a small lemon tart (which is to die for by the way) for dinner. For some reason I don’t seem to get hungry here. My bloody sugar levels must have been at an all time low. Lesson learnt.

I’m now going to jump on the bike and go to the supermarket to see what goodies I can find.
———————-
Update: 20:00
In my emotional haste to tell you all about the bad things in my day I completely forgot to tell you about the good parts.

When browsing around the souks I was grabbed and asked if I wanted some viagra. I smiled and said no thank you. He said “You come and look at my shop, I am Berber Doctor.” I thought it could be interesting and there was a beautiful smell that reminded me of my Grandad George wafting from the piles of scipes and dried plants. It smelt of lemon scented duraniums. He proceeded to take me through an amazing array of herbs, spices and various other things. He told me about viagra for women, he said you slip it in her tea when she is not looking!! I told him that in England we have laws against such things! It was fascinating, I ended up buying some kind of plant (dried) that has the strongest lemon smell ever, which apparently it keeps the mosquitos away. I also bought some red lipstick which looks like a lid of a jug. It’s made from popies and when you lick your finger and rub it on the lid it goes bright red, I thought it might be good for my visitors! I also bought various spices for cooking, some cinamon sticks, a dried plant that the Berber people use as a tooth pick and some rosemary. As a gift he gave me some pumice for rubbing away dead skin on my feet (he obviously didn’t look at my beautiful model’s feet before offering me that!).

From there I headed back to the teeshirt shop (I had promised I would go back and buy some teeshirts if he gave me a good price and I always try to stick to my word. We chatted and I bought the teeshirts. He then told me he had a question for me. He proceeded to tell me about an Indian girl (who lives in England) that is on holiday here who keeps on coming back to his shop to see him. He told me that she has asked him if he could get a visa and visit her in England. He was very excited and completely in love which was lovely to see. At this point my suspicious mind was thinking he wants me to help him get a visa but I was wrong. He then very carefully proceeded to tell me that he assumed that as I lived in England that I must have had loads of ‘relations’ with women and had lots of experience. Before I had an opportunity to set him straight about the 'lots of relations' part he said he needed to ask me a question. He said it is very difficult to get a visa to visit England when you live in Morocco and that he had visited the consulate and it was not looking good. His question was what should he tell his Indian Girl. I told him that the complete truth was always the best option. I was standing there feeling very sorry for the poor chap, in England getting the lady you love is difficult enough, add in visa and language problems and it's just not going to happen.

I told him that my wife and some friends were going to be visting in a few days and that we would come and look around his shop and join him for tea. I would very much like to do that.

Anyway, I have just got back from the supermarket with a charger that charged everything. I've tested it and I now have music! The Walkman charges but unfortunately the iPad doesn't. The battery on my iPad is on 8% now so this will be the last blog until my wife brings my chargers over on Friday night. My mobile is also charging now too.

Bye!

Anyway, after a few turns and about 5 kilometers I was finally on the R203 with very little traffic heading towards the mountains. I could see the huge High Atlas mountain range looming from above which made me excited but also a little nervous as I’ve read lots of good and bad things about the Tizi n Test pass. As I got closer to the mountains and started to climb I found myself driving through a complete dump of a town with loads of rubbish, dust, animals and knackered old vehicles. The one thing it had going for it though was the most fabulous smell. I have no idea what they were cooking but it made me stop. I pulled over by the side of a cafe and said my hello’s. I was given a table and chair and asked what I wanted. As always I ordered two black coffees, two glasses of orange juice and a bottle of water. They didn’t have any orange juice so I bough a fanta instead. It reminded me of something that Lailai had said in the Sahara Zegora Garage. He said “We do not say fantastic, we say fantaplastic!”. I asked what the smell was but they had just finished eating and the food was now gone. Shame.

Just as I was leaving I saw some little kids trying to push start an old mercedes car that wouldn’t start. They could only just about get it moving so I helped push and the mother who was driving managed to get it going. Everyone said thank you even people who were just standing around watching. I jumped on my bike and continued towards the mountains.

I slowly began to climb and quickly found myself at 2000 metres (about 6000 feet). With big drops at the side of the road and few barriers I made concious effort to not make any mistakes! I did think about putting my Walkman on but decided I really needed to pay attention so refrained. One mistake here and you could find yourself flying off the edge of a 6000 foot mountain like superman! The quality of the road was okay for most part however there were a few hairy spots where the road had fallen away a bit, you just had to make sure that you were on the inside at those points. One very real danger was running into something coming the other way on one of the many incredibly tight bends however everything went along at quite a sedate pace which meant I was able to enjoy the amazing views, all while keeping a firm eye on the road!

The Tizi n Test may not be a long route but it does take quite a long time because you can’t get any speed up. The roads just bend and bend then the go back on themselves and bend some more. I finally reached the highest point which was something like 2180 metres (about 6500 feet) and saw a shop and cafe with a sign saying “Tizi n Test 2100 metres” so I decided to stop and take a photograph. The views were just amazing. I sat down and had a drink and got chatting to the owner, a chap called Mustaffa. I finished my drinks and browsed around his shop and bought a few things. Many of the shops you go into here have loads of very nice things but the moment you get in there you get brain freeze and don’t know what to buy. Mustaffa was very helpful and I finally bought a few nice things. I told him I was going south on the Tizi n Test and that I would then need a place to stay, I asked him if he had any suggestions. He said that I was in luck because he had some very nice rooms..

I was taken to look at the rooms and completely agreed, the rooms really were very nice and typically Morocco too which I like. They also have the most incredible mountain views, they don’t have air conditioning but the best part is they don’t need it because at this altitude it’s nice and cool. It turned out that I only had another 30 kilometers to the end of the Tizi n Test so I paid Mustaffa for the room (which was normally 400 Dihrams but for me 300!) and finished the Tizi n Test. It seemed to take forever to cover the 30 kilometers. Every time you manage to get the bike up to 30 mph you have to almost stop again for the blind bends. You could try to race along but would probably end up flying to your death so I took it easy.

Many times throughout this trip something has happened that has reminded me of a scene in a film. Then I’m off into the script. When the scorpion dropped from the ceiling whilst staying in Mhamid I jumped up on the bed. It made a horrible scurying noise as it walked around my room. I said to myself “Sounds far away”, the next thing you know I’d broken into the script for American Wierwolf in London. “Sounds far away, not far enough. Come on Jack. . You really scared me you shit. Jack! I continued the script through the hospital scene and the following scene when he get’s invited back to Nurse Price’s place.. I did the same when I stopped in Mazourga. A large insect had decided it liked my tank bag and I wanted to get going again. When I looked at it more closely and saw that it was just a large, black bumble bee. I said “You’re not so bad” which set me off once again, this time it was Nedley the corrupt programmer from Jurassic Park. “You’re not so bad, thought you were your big brother. you like fetch? Fetch Go on, fetch you idiot. . Aaaah, no wonder you’re extinct, I’m gonna to run you over when I come back down. And on and on I went. So far I’ve been through most of the American Weirwolf in London, Jurassic Park, The English Patient, No Country for Old Men and Appocolypse Now. I have a very bad memory normally but can somehow remember the sound of films. I don’t really remember to script itself, it’s more the sound which obviously includes the script but also lots more too. Weird eh?

Anyway, I digress. When I finally got to the main road at the end of the Tizi n Test pass I stopped the bike, got off and congratulated myself for a job well done. I had completed the Tizi n Test pass that everyone talks about. Some people have said that you’re not a real man until you’ve completed the Tizi n Test but I think that may be pushing it a bit (quite a lot in fact!) others have said that it is the best road in Morocco which I completely agree with. It didn’t feel as adventurous as the trip to Merzouga or Mhamid but it was a different kind of adventure and I’m proud to say that I have completed them all.

After half an hour of congratulating myself (such things cannot, and should, be rushed) I decided it was time to head back to the Auberge. It seemed to take forever which was fine by me. I arrived and had another of my long, cold showers and sat down with Mustaffa and his wife for the most fantastic Berber omlet and salad. He talked about many things including money in England and Morocco. Here the average monthly income is approximatly 1300 to 1500 Dirhams. That is about £100 to £130 GBP yet petrol is 12 dirhams a litre which is about £1 GBP. So, taking those figures into consideration, the average person in Morocco earns about a tenth as much as their British counterparts but their petrol prices are only a little cheaper than ours. Sounds like a raw deal to me. As much as I like to think that I wont ever complain about the price of petrol again I know that the next time I stick £100 in the car I’ll be moaning along with the rest of the population of England.

So, I have now finished my food and am back in my room. Mustaffa his started the generator for me so I have light but it will be switched off at 11pm. There are candles in the room that I can light should I need light. How fantaplastic is that?!

I decided to try to charge my camera battery today but it didn’t charge at all, neither did my iPad. I have all my charging stuff in my tank bag which sits on top of my petrol tank. Everything was plugged in correctly and all the lights were on but it just didn’t work. No charging, the sore arse and the severe heat has made me rethink travelling in the future. I haven’t really gone anywhere on this trip that you could not go in the comfort of a Toyota Landcruiser or Range Rover. Perhaps my next trip will be in a nice posh Range Rover with air conditioning and beautiful comfortable seats. I’ll have to think about that one…

Tomorrow I will be heading back through the Tizi n Test to Marrakesh where I will book 3 nights in a nice hotel. I will walk around the souks and see if I can find some trilobites and other nice things. It’s also tempting to get one of those fabulous vivid blue Berber robes, I already have a white one but blue is my favourite colour !

Okay, I am back in Marakesh after a beautiful and sadate meander back through the Tizi n Test mountain pass. Entering Marakesh was, once again, a bit of a challenge, not only because of the amazingly incomprensible lack of even the slightest bit of driving ability, but also because of the unforgiving, intense heat. It is once again in the high 40′s which after the cool mountain air comes as a rude shock to the system.

I was told by Mustapha when I left his mountain Auberge that his brother had a cafe on the road back to Marrakesh and that his little brother Joseph would be there. I eased my way back gently and found his brothers cafe and stopped. I said hello to Joseph and introduced myself and got a huge smile. “Mustapha said you would come!” he said. I ordered my mandatory 2 orange juices and a cafe noir. Whilst I was waiting I saw some nice trilobite fossils on the side. They were complete which means they have the trilobite enclosed completely in rock and you open them up to see the fossil. They originaly wanted 500 Dirhams a piece so I just said no and sat down. Obviously this was my haggling method for today, let the games begin! Joseph came over and asked how many I wanted. I said I could not pay his prices and that I would go back to Erford so not to worry. He said he would give me a friend price as I knew Mustapha. He called his brother and they talked for sometime. I ended up buying 3 very nice trilobite fossils for 700 Dirhams which is about £52 GBP.

I tried to get the bike as close to the edge of some of the severe drops before I took the photographs but my body just refused to get it any closer than about two feet. Close enough I think!

I left Ouarzazate this morning after a nice shower, breakfast and talc fest! I forgot to put my sheep skin rug on the seat which made the seat one hundred times more comfortable! Steve (BDMLR) was right in that the best place for a sheep skin is on a sheep! After only about half an hour I was in the most glorious mountains ever, with the temperature in the mid twenties at 7000 feet it was indescribable meandering around the beautiful mountain roads with cool air on my skin and devastating beauty all around. I took my time and enjoyed every minute. I stopped at a few cafes and had copious amounts of fresh orange juice and coffee.

About half way there I stopped and put my Walkman on. Riding along those perfect roads listening to your favourite music was one of the wonderful moments in my life, pure indulgence. Call me girly if you like but I had to stop more than once to wipe the tears from my eyes (with 3000 feet drops at the edge of the road and no barriers on the hair pin bends it’s a very good idea to keep your eyes clear!)

I have been looking for some trillobite fossils to give to people as presents and for me. However all the ones I have seen so far have not been good. Even at Erford which is where most of them come from. I stopped a few times on the way back but couldn’t find anything I liked. Most of the places between Ouarzazate and Marrakesh sell minerals but not many of them have trillobites and none of them have good trillobite fossils. Then I found a fantastic shop high up in the mountains, it was very large and had everything with the exception of good closed trillobite fossils! The salesman was excellent, his English fantastic and he answered all my questions with all the detail anyone could want, then left me to browse in my own time. I found some items I wanted to purchase and asked the price. The price was fantastic so I bought them all. He told me that people don’t like to haggle these days so he just came in with the best price first. Whilst I was looking around some of his friends turned up including the son of the shop owner and we all introduced ourselves and had a good laugh. It got even funnier when I got my camera out as one of his mates could ‘gurn’ like no other! We went next door and had a coffe and ice cold water. He insisted on paying and wouldn’t even let me get my wallet out. Too often here us outsiders assume that people are only after our money however in my experieces most people here value friendship more. I didn’t manage to find any good trillobite fossils that I liked but we have swapped email addresses and he will keep his eyes open for one in excellent/perfect condition for me. He asked if I had any old mobile phones or clothing in England that I didn’t want any more as they can be used as currency in the mountains so when I get back to England I will be asking everyone to give me their old mobiles and will send them out to him.

I rolled into Marrakesh from the wrong side and had to cross through to get to the Hotel Ibis Palmerie that I wanted to stay in. The traffic was not good and I found myself following a little black car. When I overtook the car the people inside shouted “Hello England!” and bibbed some of the British National Anthem, of course I joined in and we all had a good laugh! I followed them for a while but the traffic was a nightmare so I blasted off into a side road and made my way to my friends at Ibis. El Houcine gave me a great price which was the topping on the cake.

Tomorrow I will be riding south on some dodgy mountain roads named the Tizi n Test pass. I have been looking forward to this for years and for me this will hopefully be one of the many highlights of the trip.

So, smile if you are alive and if you are alive, smile!