10-12 to 15-12-2003 : Morocco
Page 1.- 2.- 3.- 4.- 5.

Well the shaft didn’t leave Casablanca yesterday but only this afternoon(Wednesday 10th Dec)??? OK so another largish jump but the package only leaving Casablanca on Wednesday via the post, the chances of it arriving here on Friday is slim to none and with no post service in Morocco on Saturday or Sunday it’s going to be Monday at the earliest.
16-12--2003
Wwwhhaaawhoooo!!!!!! It arrived this morning and what a relief. Not that Merzouga and the dunes aren’t wonderful but we’re itching to get on the road again. So with the new drive shaft in hand we rode on Lisa’s bike from the Merzouga post office back to Ksar Sania and started to get down to fitting the new replacement. One of the first jobs was to just prepare the bike and get rid of as much of the fine dust and sand that had accumulated on the bike as possible. With healthy dabs of grease (courtesy of the local bicycle mechanic) applied in all the right places the new shaft was fitted without to much hassle and then it was a case of refitting the swing-arm, final drive, brakes, tyre etc. With everything back on and the GS finally looking like a bike again it was time to start her up. With a little help from Lisa’s battery the engine chugged into life…and did a great impression of Ivor the engine. It sounded absolutely sodding awful! Rev’s on tick over were none existent, without a twist of the throttle the engine died. When the engine did run the whole bike vibrated like an Anne Summers house party, but without the giggle factor. Talk about having the wind taken out of your sails. I ended up spending 20 minutes going over the obvious and found nothing, at this point it seemed like a good idea to do something else. Ammar our Berber friend had arranged something special for us, so as I left the bike in disgust Ammar turned up, smiling on his bright yellow bike with a rucksack stuff full of food. We were off to the dunes for a…’Berber Pizza’. This had been mentioned a couple of days ago and we’d thought it was a joke…nope. 20 minutes later and with Michael for company we’d found a shady spot under one of the few trees and were out in the large dunes collecting scraps of wood. The next 4 hours were great. Ammar was preparing us Berber Pizza. Digging a shallow hole in the sand and the getting a fire going was just the beginning. With the fire red hot he spread the embers around and to one side, with flour, yeast and water already mixed and a small tub of beef pieces marinated in red onion, coriander, paprika and chives blended into the dough, the entire mixture was then patted into shape on a simple linen cloth. With the ingredients shaped it was then wrapped in tin foil (expensive in Morocco), placed in the sand and covered with the hot fire embers. With the pizza cooking he then skewered the remaining beef and cooked them over the embers as a starter. With the ever-changing colours of the sand dunes for company we watched the sun slowly disappear. Before all light was gone we pushed the embers to one side and blew off the hot sand. Wow what a wonderfully simple and tasty meal. The time and effort it had taken to make it simply added to the eating pleasure. A small tin pot of boiling water was taken off the fire to make the traditional sweet mint tea, what a way to end a day. Four very contented and smiling people made their way back to Ksar Sania in the dark. Thank you Ammar.
17-12 -2003

Right I was now on a mission to get the big red GS working properly. The air filter was relatively clean. The rubber covers, covering the take off valves weren’t cracked, my throttle cable wasn’t sticking…why the hell is my bike sounding like a bag of nails. With a little more poking around the problem was discovered. All that had happened was that sand had got inside the small metal caps the hold the plastic sheathed throttle cable before the cable goes into the butterfly rollers. With the cables at unequal pressures at the left and right cylinders the whole engine was off. So with the sand blown out and the cables seated properly and the new shaft drive in my big red lovely was sounding and feeling right again. I’m now a happy boy and tomorrow we can get on the road again. As Ksar Sania longest staying guest, we were invited to dinner with Francoise and Aziz (the owners). The day finished well and we are both so excited about traveling again. Agadir here we come…
18-12-2003
 Having been stationary for so long, we we’re both keen to be up early and to get on the road. With everything on board and the bikes feeling bloody heavy again we said our farewells to Ksar Sania and wobbled off down the sand track back to Merzouga before picking up the new asphalt for Rissani. At Rissani we took a left and started our journey west. The excitement and relief we both felt to be travelling again was tangible. Our relief didn’t last long as the asphalt became pitted with large holes and large drifts of soft deep sand crossed our path. With our tyre pressure high we had little chance of steering. As the hours went by, the road became better and our earlier excitement returned as we crossed oueds, large open plains and picturesque palmeries, which were tucked away down form the road. By early afternoon we’d reached Tazzarine and having acclimatized to the weight the bikes were feeling good. A familiar steel grey land cruiser was parked up outside one of the small bars; Michael (our German friend) was already enjoying coffee and smiled as we rolled to a halt. Michael had left Ksar Sania some two hours prior to us and by chance was heading in the same direction. With water and coffee downed and with our new travelling companion we were soon off again hoping to reach Agdz near the Vallée Du Dra by evening. The road to Agdz was great, good asphalt, twisty bends and completely raving mad Moroccan bus drivers. By 4:30 pm we were on the outskirts and by 5pm we’d followed Michael up another dirt track to our new home for the night, a camping site at N 30º 42. 727 W 006º 26. 723 and at 3083 feet – a large open palmerie with a newish toilet area. With our pitch chosen we set up quickly – we were the only guests staying – wonderful! Dinner was pasta, tuna and a can of octopus pieces from Michael.
19-12-2003
Waving goodbye to Agdz we were heading to Taliouine but had chosen to take the piste across to Tazenakht as opposed to going north up to Ouarzazate only to have to then come south again. The piste across is mostly hard sand and track (not quite two vehicles wide in places) and the track is pretty well used and, as we passed, construction was under way for new asphalt. Unless you like that bone-jarring feeling (on a bike) you’ll stand up on the pegs most of the way until you pick up the road again outside Tazenakht before passing the large mining operation down to the left – its like something from a James Bond movie. Here’s a quick tip: If you’re on the road and feeling hungry head towards the busiest roadside café and not the better looking and more expensive hangouts designed for tourists. The best meals we’ve had are always in the ‘local’ places. The wonderful moutton tagine we had in Tazenakht was no exception. Bear in mind that like us, if you’re a travelling European eating with the locals (no knives or forks here!) you’re going to attract a crowd and being stared at by 30 kids and adults is just par for the course – although a little unnerving at first. Lisa dropping her bike as she turned to leave really caused a ruckus, with the crowd surprised, delighted and then confused as to whether they should help ‘ the lady’ pick up her heavy machine. Luckily for Lisa, a few decided it was OK and quickly righted the bike allowing a very pissed-off Mrs Thomas to blat off down the road. With asphalt all the way and more glorious scenery taken in, we arrived in Taliouine by early evening and took a small wooden room at an Auberge, here’s the GPS co-ords-N 30º 31.547 W007º 54.29.1 The idea was to catch up on diary and look at the bikes – the reality was – a small salad and a bowl of harira each and bed! We hadn’t realised how tired we were – too much soft living at Ksar Sania had taken its toll.
 20-12-2003

7 months away.

Michael has a rendezvous with a friend in Agadir; we have an appointment with a Megane supermarket. Our larder is running low and we need to restock, so by midday we’d ridden more good roads and were in Agadir. In Megane Lisa was in her element – retail therapy or what! Actually we didn’t buy much but the pleasure derived from so much choice was great. Can’t help writing or saying Agadir without smiling – on the way down I mentioned to Lisa my thoughts about the city inspiring that famous tune…”Aaaggaadirrr, dir, dir, dir, shake mine apple push the tree…” Ahh, Black Lace where are they now? Now of course the thought stuck.Shopping done and packed way we fuelled up and rode the main road to Tiznit to meet Helmut, Michael’s friend. We camped at N 29º 41. W 009º 43. – The campsite was a little strange – full of French and Germans in white mobile homes. Apparently they all live here for 3-5 months a year. They don’t go anywhere or do anything…for us stranger still was that as the sun set everyone goes in to watch TV – not one person sat outside talking to their neighbours of having a drink – far too insular.

 21-12-2003

We’d received a text message from David and Katja (the friends we’d met in Merzouga in the land rover) to say that following a problem with the landy’s clutch, they are now only a few days ahead of us and making their way to Dakhla for Christmas. Seemed like a good plan, besides we’re both looking forward to seeing them – a great couple with a sense of humour as warped as our own. As we left Tiznit we both realised that the journey ahead was going to be very different than the miles behind. We are leaving the relative ease of Morocco for the Western Sahara and ‘real desert’. TanTan (the gateway to the disputed territories) was only 230km from Tiznit and although it’s asphalt all the way you still get a sense of abandonment. The size of the dry, dusty, arid desert around is overwhelming.

NOTE: Cheap petrol after TanTan – 60-70% off

As we approached TanTan our excitement grew – another name we’d read about for so long in our preparation and suddenly here we are but we were both a little disappointed that the famous “kissing camels” landmark that straddles the road into Tan Tan had been taken down for repair. As evening approached the light became better and we were again following the road close to the cliffs. The long dull asphalt suddenly became the road of endless possibilities. With no campsites on this leg we pulled up close to the cliffs by a large bay to stop for the evening. Although the surface was sandstone there was no way I was going to be able to drive tent pegs in, so following a very hot day and with a balmy night ahead, we put out our blue tarpaulin and slept under the stars with the sound of crashing waves not far below us. We simply lay in our sleeping bags and stared up, realising how privileged we are to be travelling like this. Finally after much star gazing, fatigue got the better of us.
22-12-2003
We awoke early this morning to find a swarm of very tiny mosquitoes all over our sleeping bags. We tried to ignore them for as long as possible but after they tried their hardest to get in our sleeping bags with us we thought it best to make a move. We are now on our way to Boujdour, which is quite way south of Laâyoune and the only asphalt road down to Dakhla. The journey began to get quite flat and with nothing much to see now and the hard, strong side wind which had been with us since we left Agadir was making riding even more tiring than usual. We were surprised to find that more and more new petrol stations with café areas had been and were being built. We had expected there to be nothing between Laâyoune and Dakhla but it seems ‘improvement’ is being made all the time – but currently we would still advise all travellers, especially motorcyclist to fill up whenever they do see a petrol station. Tonight our camping area is behind two sand dunes at N 26º 15. 600 W 014º 17. 804 – just off the main road. Again the earth/sand is so hard and barren there was now tent going up, so another night under the stars was on the cards. We’d just about got ourselves sorted when we heard in the distance the thump of what we thought was a ‘big single’. 5 mins later Lee cruised by on his Yamaha XT600. With us waving enthusiastically he pulled up and said hello. Like us he was heading for Laâyoune and time had run out. Night and darkness out here arrives very quickly. After a little persuasion Lee joined us for dinner.
 23-12-2003

Breaking camp early we’d passed Laâyoune by mid-morning and picked up fuel for the 530km ride to Dakhla. Strong wind for the east made riding hard work and the sand kicked up by lorries going north stung the skin even through the bike kit. The ride down is pretty uneventful with the desert to your left and the blue expanse of the Atlantic for company on the right.

It’s worth mentioning that there are for travellers a good number of enforced stops as soon as you pass TanTan. Although the conflict between the Moroccans and Polisario is all but over, security is still high and regular police stops are made. At each stop you will be asked for your papers (passport, vehicle document) and a healthy list of questions ranging from surname to town of birth and mothers maiden name. If you’re travelling alone each stop will only be for 10-15 mins, however, if you’re with a group or a queue then being there for an hour plus is not unlikely. Life is made a whole lot easier if you have prepared a ‘white paper’ or fisque: a sheet of paper with the answers pre-written in the appropriate language. Just hand it over with you documents and the guard will either take notes from it or keep it – either way you’re on the road again a whole lot faster. At around 60km before Dakhla we were stopped by the police. The main guy turned out to be a ‘dick’ and even with our papers in order we were there for 30mins. A number of others, we found out, met the same guy who insisted they pay for visas they didn’t have as UK nationals you don’t need a visa for stays of under 3 months.

ADVICE: stand your ground and don’t pay

.Taking the right and fork to the Dakhla peninsula the views are breathing taking with seal left and right and long sweeping stretch of sand stretching out in front for as far as you can see. By late afternoon we were pulling into camping Mousafir a few km north of Dakhla itself and 300m before the next police checkpoint going into town. Camping is 20 Dirham p.p. and hot showers 10 dirham. The cold showers are free and with the water heated by the sun they are almost as hot so why pay? It is great finally to be here.

Daylight promptly disappeared at 6:15pm and food was on the go when the campground was illuminated by the myriad of lights adorning the entering land rover. David and Katja had ‘floored it’ and leaving Laâyoune at 1:30pm had made it all the way down, Nutters! A great but welcome surprise. It’s going to be an interesting Christmas.

24-12-2003

With Lisa tackling the dirty clothes, David and I went into Dakhla on the 1100GS in search of alcohol and food for Christmas.

NOTE: before entry to Dakhla you must go into the police checkpoint just after the camp and fill in the big ledger.

Dakhla is a long, thin town with a lot of military presence. (TIP: observe the speed limits – most of the military are bored and just looking for something or someone to do. Don’t give them the opportunity). About 2km after you pass the arch there is a hotel (sorry can’t remember the name) on the left – it’s one of the first you come to. We found a bar round the back and they sell booze ‘to go’. Red wine is 60-80 Dirham and beer about 25 dirham per bottle. You can get alcohol at the 4 star French run Sahara Regency in the middle of town but you’ll pay twice as much. With a cold beer downed and the shopping done we headed back to camp. The rest of the day was spent sorting out little jobs on the bikes and catching up with diary.

25-12-2003

Christmas Day and blazing sunshine!! Weird. We managed to upset a few of our French neighbours last night by staging a Christmas Eve party at David and Katja’s landy. The eating, drinking and talking finally petered out around 3am this morning. Well it IS Xmas!! By 10am Jose our Spanish/French land rover driving companion was helping me replace Lisa’s front tyre for the ‘knobbly’ TKC80 we’d been carrying since leaving Spain. We’d originally met Jose at Ksar Sania in Morocco and met up with him again outside Laâyoune a few days ago. Bizarrely he owns a restaurant only a few km from Olargue in France very, very close to our friend Chris in the Massif Central where we’d been only a few months before. It’s a small world! Christmas day dinner was a resounding success. Considering our location it was a bloody miracle of culinary genius! Between Lisa, Katja, me, David and Jose the following was put together:

Aperitif – cold bottled flag beer.

Main – roast chicken stuffed with couscous, herbs and lemon cooked in tinfoil and covered by a saucepan on the BBQ.

Boiled and part roasted potatoes.

A puree of swede, carrots, butter and cream.

Couscous, herb and lemon stuffing balls.

And of course gravy!

Accompaniment – 6 bottles of Moroccan (Meknes) red wine.

Desert – chocolate mouse and lemon mouse.

Finally - a selection of cheeses.Washed down with – a toast to all our group and Xmas day with a bottle of champagne Jose had brought all the way from France! Our Christmas evening was a pretty chilled concern, especially considering the previous night – but what a great meal – we even surprised ourselves.

26-12-2003 : Morocco

Day of rest. The afternoon was spent getting ready for the departure on the 27th. Kit checks and making sure our bikes were set for the difficult journey ahead. Both Lisa and I are a little concerned about the up and coming days.

 
 ok our Morocco journey is over
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click on the pics for
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Ammar
getting things started
grubs in the oven
Jamie Oliver eat your heart out
the walk back to Ksar Sania