Pedro

You found ice cream in the freezer?

I love how Dynas look when they're not lowered, that rear fender is just so pretty. It's a proper looking bike, the fact that it's a 30 year old bike just makes it cooler.

Thank you for the kind comments, guys! You don't need a BMW to do any of this stuff and many bikes would probably be a lot better offroad, but I really appreciate mine and it absolutely suits my riding style.

Clearly he is making them less of an eye sore!

Lazy designing, though. Take an F4 and photoshop the picture by stretching it.

Guy played two rolls in his life, he nailed both, that's not bad.

She would be posting here if that was the case. She'll be home cooking a 5 dish meal for her sons and getting hammered. Or, @Slowlycatchymonkey, going on a big multy day motorcycle ride around the UK too busy to take two pictures and post a ride report!

That is a good looking cruiser. I like that!

I had went to bed early, and did set an alarm clock for the first time in weeks, to 06:30. That gave me time to enjoy waking up lazily in bed, procrastinating getting up while enjoying my own company. Breakfast was the only poor one I had this trip, that went nicely with the theme of this visit to Fes, croissants were stale and worthy of one single bite, orange juice hadn't seen an orange since an industrial factory somewhere once processed them, and coffee tasted like Nescafe. In Morocco there's no excuse for non fresh orange juice and shit coffee, but it made sense as that hotel didn't even offer a breakfast free stay, they had to push people to eat it I was ready to go a little after 7, but as I looked around the streets seemed really wet and it was going to be dark for a while after leaving, so grudgingly put my plastic rain pants and jacket on. By 07:25, I was ready to go: Put navigation on heading to Ain Dorij, and rode off, google maps took me out via tiny streets that seemed more complicated than needed, but the low traffic showed me a less seen side of Fes. It was interesting. Getting out of town and rain starts to steadily fall, at 08:15 I had had my only really challenging moment on the road and stopped to enjoy the sunrise a little, on a particularly muddy and poorly surfaced bit of road tilting to the right, I was forced to brake a little and basically slid off the road, I spotted the gravel bit outside the tarmac and simply pointed to that and rode it for a while. I am most impressed at the Mitas E07 + Dakar, they're sound tires even if the manufacturer warns that they have poor performance in rain and cold. 08:15: Rain properly starts to fall shortly later, my phone is now safe in my jacket and I stop for a moment's rest after spotting shelter. Someone takes my picture as for whatever reason I was enjoying it quite a bit. The above was at 08:55, I then put the phone back in my jacket pocket safe from the weather, and rode all the way to Tangier with no need for it. Navigation was easy and although I was riding on less than main roads I knew I had to go pass Ouezzane and then Chefchaouen, it proved easy. Rain didn't stop for the rest of the morning, averaging from hard to very hard and very windy at the same time. I got stopped at a checkpoint and after the initial small talk the officer told me I had been spotted at 95kmh on a 60, I got off the bike with the helmet open, got my right glove off and introduced myself, told him I would be more respectful from now on, but that I was intended on catching the Ferry and wanted to not miss it, all while putting my biggest possible good guy big smile attitude. Then he asked me for my papers while looking at the back of the bike, and asked where I was from as clearly I didn't have a French or German plate, upon the answer of "Portugaise" he enthusiastically shook my hand and after becoming friends sent me on my way with a big smile and a "ride safe" farewell. Portugal is a good nationality to be in Morocco, our national football team shares the same colours, and we both like beating the French and Spaniards. From there it was very smooth to Tangier, if plenty of wet. The last miles before Tangier were dry and windy, which allowed the overalls to dry on the outside. I had money with me so stopped to top up the bike at a Shell station, rode into Tangier feeling like a road worn adventurer, and quickly got lost in lunchtime traffic Stopped at a cafe with outside tables on a common street and ordered a sandwich. While it took forever to arrive I took the overalls off and made myself comfortable. Turns out my overall pants aren't really waterproof anymore, my jeans were wet on the outside all over the waterproof stitches, and my chest and upper back was fully wet too. Good stuff! The bike looked proper and had just proven to be a trusty friend, a true work beast or a war horse: It was good to ride to the port without the blasted rain suit, hang around for a little getting in line for the bike to be x-rayed, it all went easily as if hipotetically crossing between any European countries. The crossing was a little choppy, the storms seemed to have angered the Mediterranean and the boat rocked heavily the whole trip. At first it was funny like so, look at the water level in the horizon: But after a while people started to get a little tired of it, I felt like having a piss but sat firmly in my seat at the risk of falling over when walking or throwing up if standing, two guys started praying to Allah, and a few people had hands on their faces like trying to prevent eyes from popping out. We made it ok though, lack of paperwork on the boat was a bonus, I don't envy people crossing the other way and having to write stuff down, I would succumb to that for sure! Got out of the boat in my due time, and pushed the bike along with all the line of cars that got off the boat before I did. Tarifa looked stormy, so I put the rain stuff back on, the time at Tangier and on the boat had dried my clothes so I felt comfy and fresh. It was past 16:00 by the time I rode out of Tarifa, I had looked at hotels around there and also the weather forecasts, it was rain for the next few days, so feeling fresh after the ride from Fes I decided to go home for the night, Waze sent me via Badajoz which wouldn't have been my preferred route, but as it was raining through Sevilla (or was it Huelva already? I don't know...) I was lazy and followed it's guidance. Storms were littered all around, with orange warnings for heavy rain so I figured there must be a reason for the longer route. Right before entering Portugal I stopped for a snack after riding all the way from Tarifa in heavy rains. 20km into the trip a water barrier descended upon me with such violence that water pushed into my overalls with ease through my neck and wrists. This stop made sense, and the tiny jamon con queso bocadillho provided me with a little comfort from the belly outwards. The beer is 0% alcohol, too. The snack and fuel stop was at 20:09, I made it home at 22:54 and the bike looked pretty much like I did except prettier, just as wet. That was an epic day riding, around 300/320km in Morocco's backroads and around 700km in Europe with port crossing and a choppy ride in the middle of it, I felt like it was a proper day to end a proper trip, and was comforted by a hot shower in my own house, that I grew to love from Maria. Heated up some of Sofia's shepherds pie and opened a bottle of red wine. I was feeling energized when arriving home, despite the long day, but as soon as food and wine hit my stomach and I settled from the excitement of riding through rain storms, I started feeling tired. That night I fell asleep moments after laying down, and the rain lashed the outside of my bedroom walls through the night. On this trip I travelled with Maria and Sofia, and have to thank you all for providing an audience, the taking pictures everywhere provided with a distraction to some of the very intense feelings I had. I got through it and the extreme darkness I feared didn't appear, only sorrow and the memory of loving times did. I hardly ever felt alone on this trip. It was a nice one, there will be more. Thank you for all the nice comments.

07th December, Wednesday It was the coldest night since I've been in Morocco, snow covered mountain tops were in sight of where I slept. I woke up with no alarm clock, as has been so for a couple of years except with unusually early work commitments. And since it was dark and still too cold, I laid in bed enjoying the warmth. Dawn was at a little past 8, this is 8:33, bike felt cold just from looking at it in the distance, minimum temperature that night had been 1ºC. It was the first time in this trip that it cranked slowly once before starting, maybe still sleepy! After slowly enjoying breakfast and double the usual amount of hot coffee to allow the sun to kill off some of the early morning cold, I get out and ride off with 4ºC showing on the dashboard. I am definitely heading north and back home, though, first heading is to Fes and then Tangier. Winter is firmly arriving and I am not equipped for it. A little later I stop on an open plain, this is the last wide open spot that I'll see on this trip, so decide to stop and enjoy it for a moment as I had done so before, in 2017. In 2017 it was decided that our next few trips wouldn't be to Morocco, and I distinctly remember passing this road, undergoing construction at the time, and realizing I wouldn't be doing this for a while. Fate proved cruel and I couldn't anticipate how right I was. The road to Sefrou is great, sometimes it almost feels European in a good way. My phone demanded my attention and I stopped for a while, right on the middle of some twisties. Moroccan police is strict with speed limit enforcements, they have just the few fixed cameras around major cities, but all around the country you can expect to find the odd police stopping point armed with a speed gun. For European vehicles some of the 60kmh seem too low, but they really aren't considering the state of some of their vehicles and the loads they carry. A little after the previous picture was taken I was warned by an oncoming car about the radar, and after it stopped by a couple having a cigarette by their motorcycle. They were a very cool couple, spaniards in their 60s, riding a grey and red R1250GSA also with Vario cases, the dude was surprised to see mine on the GSA and like geeks we bonded over how bikes look shit with the tubes required to carry aluminum cases when the cases are off. They frequently ride all over the Iberian Peninsula and Morocco, it was a nice meeting and one of those sort of short contacts with people that warm up your day. Cool bike they had, too! Street dog pack in Sefrou: I made it to Fes quite early, and decided to stay. The couple from before had told me that I would be facing rain storms in Spain and Portugal, and north Morocco as well, and that I should spend a couple of days to wait them out before going if not in a hurry. I'm no good in just waiting around like that and seemed to me I was going to ride through the rain regardless, it was a matter of choosing to do it in one or two days of heavy rain or 4 or 5 days of shit weather. I chose the least time regardless of intensity. Arriving at Fes I got hit with a big time nostalgia, having spent a few nice days here before. Fes gets really hot in the summertime and most of the year it's warmer than you would think considering it's almost northern location. Stoplights sometimes have little sun beaks to make lights easier to see in bright sunshine, here sometimes they melt over the lights from the heat! It's also a place where revolving outdoor publicity signs have airconditioning systems attached, so they don't burn out in summertime. I arrived sometime around after midday, and the temperature made me comfortable compared to the early morning cold. I went looking for a shop where I bought a carpet previously, they had reasonable prices and acted like a cooperative, the selection was immense and they had friendly people there. That shop was now extinct and replaced by a place that now works on the third story of an office building and sells mostly custom carpets to big hotels. They only had one Kilim rug there, it was pretty but the dude wanted 3200 dirhams for it, and I think that was too much, so didn't take it. He was immovable on price, so he can keep it. My hotel of choice made me smile when I rocked up at 13:00 and asked for a room. The dude proved what southern Moroccans think of people from the big cities of Casablanca, Rabat and Fes by being an altive twat and telling me to come back later since they had no rooms ready yet. Since it isn't summertime and I wouldn't miss their amazing swimming pool space, I went across the street and 20 minutes later was having my shower and getting ready to go for a walk. Fes' main avenue, ending at the royal palace's gold leafed doors. I stopped for a snack somewhere where me and Maria used to have dinner at, still the same guy but he was in a bad mood that day, lunch was cheap but completely forgettable, and not worthy of a picture either, and that's saying something considering this ride report 's picture intensity. I walked to the medina borders to see if I could find a rug shop and to walk off some of the afternoon. Getting to the medina was a few kms walk, and the noise, smells and pollution of Fes got me before that. I felt miserable and intoxicated, people had no space for a friendly smile towards a foreigner unless asking for a coin or trying to attract you towards a stand selling something. Cafes showed no hospitality and overall my nostalgia towards Fes was not returned. Next time I'll treat it the same way. Stopped by the hotel for a little, to organize some of the luggage and sit in my bed to relax a little. Went out to find something to eat at night, and sat down to eat some pretty average rotisserie chicken, not on pair at all with what you get in smaller places. I did smile at the table next to mine as I watched three older ladies in traditional but couture level clothings eat their chicken breasts with their fingers, to me that moment illustrated the difference between European and Moroccan table costumes. Did come across a pretty cool street stand selling books, most of them in Arabic but some pretty cool covers there. Searched for a cafe but regardless of the abundance of establishments all I saw were noisy unpleasant places and rude waiters, gave that a pass and went to my room. I had a big day ahead and felt like quiet. I slept ok as I was a little tired from the afternoon walk, but a little sad of the disapointement that Fes turned out to be. Earlier I had booked my ferry pass to Tarifa sailing out of Tangier Ville port at 15:00, it's no big deal making it but I was supposed to get the first proper rains of this trip, and that I did...

That's true, the goats climbing the trees are an amazing show when they do it up in the mountains. Not that it matters since the seeds squeezed for oil are protected inside the shells that need to be cracked open to retrieve them, but the practice of collecting seeds like that isn't a thing anymore. Argan oil went from being a foreign thing to richly valued for the cosmetic industry, and for Parisian chefs to lavishly use it on salads, so value increased exponentially over the last few years. As such, herding is done less and less on Argan, and they're mostly picked like olives.

06th December, Tuesday Dawn at 08:05 from my hotel room. Breakfast my hotel was not included in the room price I paid, and I didn't feel at all captivated by it either, too international and I'm feeling like an adventure. The plan was to swiftly ride out of Marrakech and through the Atlas heading East. Roads are cool, views are cool, weather seems to be behaving, all's cool. I ride out heading to Azilal. Already out of town I am not missing breakfast, but I am missing something to start the day comfortably instead of just water, so stop by a Café Mobile. The quality of the expresso these guys put out from the back of a small van is amazing, 10 times better than the best you can get in most Europe except Portugal and Italy, and even then there might be a case for Morocco's roadside café. The guy is surprised I take pictures of his car, but I tell him that's not very common in Portugal. He quickly says that if I plan on making a Portuguese business he is available as a partner , but being no fool quickly says that in Portugal you probably need fees and permits and taxes, there you just set it up and go. At 6 net dirhams per expresso it IS pretty good business. He did follow good practices on cleaning the stuff and preparing it for the next coffee using boiling water, more so than most cafes in Portugal, I was amazed. Maybe one of these days I'll start going for the more complicated coffees like milk and foams and sugars and all that stuff, maybe after going back to Taroudant and staying in the gay hotel too Azilal is a very civilized place, if I were to go live in Morocco for good and looking for a place to properly live this could well be it. I stop to send a postcard home Tagalf, just a village full of people living a hard mountain life, all the kids smiled and laughed though Donkeys, always stop for donkeys Riding out of Azilal, a young man is hitch hiking along, not a tourist but a kid on trainers and just jeans and a sweater walking along a road, he must have been 17 or 19, I wave back and he salutes me with their gesture of waving at you and then touching their hearts, so I ride back and offer him a ride. Carried him for maybe 30 or 40km in 7 or 8ºC, he should have been freezing but always with a smile and happy to not be walking. When I left him he said he was going up to Beni Melal, maybe another 30km but going north, he had no problems thanking for the ride and I watched as he walked away decidedly down the road, hope he got a ride instead of walking through the night as it's cold there. Stopped in Aghbala, it was 15:17 when this picture was taken. Aghbala has many qualities: it's got a kick ass adventure sounding name, it's busy in a Atlas exotic sort of adventure way instead of nasty city way, smoke from coal grills and woodburning chimneys was wafting through the air, streets were paved with mud covered tarmac, people couldn't give a shit about me being there except for kids, I spotted a little snack place with a hot metal plate, so stop the bike and walk in. The lady running the place didn't speak a word of french but we got along, I managed to get my favourite sardines served inside a bread long with diced tomatoes and onions, it was pretty fucking awesome and flavoured perfectly. Just the kind of thing to pick you up. Picture does not do it justice. Also had a kind of sausage, that feels like mostly paprika inside with little meat, it was quite spicy. I've no idea what it's made of. As I was eating, there was a lady with a child in the back. The little girl completely taken with curiosity came to investigate me from a safe distance. After a few winks she finally gave me the biggest smile, I didn't catch that on a picture though. Nothing like a silly traveller to make women put on a pretty smile for a crazy foreigner Feeling comforted from both a great meal and the warming smiles, I crack on! The plan was to make it back to Imilchil, the little mountain village I had passed through a few days before, and take the lovely mountain dirt pass again, going again to Boulmane and then coming back north up the Todra Gorge. This would add at least a day to my trip but who cares, I make progress... Temperatures drop substancially, it's now about 16:30 and it's been between 6 to 8ºC for the last hour or so, then it becomes clear the more mountain passes crossing the Atlas aren't a good idea, I'll let the pictures tell you why, that white stuff is where I'm heading. I've been to Imilchil and that area in days that saw me enduring 35º before and after, and still being sort of chilly there, it didn't sound like a half pleasant idea to go past there with snow on, so that plan was discarded and I fell back on plan B, Plan B was to go near Zaida, and stay back on the same place I did before. Funny enough that's what me and Maria did in 2017, stayed there once going South and once going North. I went, and about one hour later got there. It was now getting proper cold in the area. I tried the check in and nobody was there, the restaurant and you could go in and rob the place, nobody around, tried to see if the room I wanted was open and it wasn't, then tried everything again and found the TV room, everyone was watching the first half of the Morocco vs Spain match. I got my key and we left formalities for later, quickly had a hot shower and made it there to watch the end of the match. Morocco won on penalties, their goalkeeper "Bono" was gigantic and eliminated Spain. Most people lost their shit, the single one guy in front of the tv not jumping? He's a Spaniard: Now, Moroccans are insane about football, they will now way more about the portuguese league than I ever will, they'll know players names from the first 15 teams in Portugal, and that knowledge extends to Spain, France, Germany, England and Italy, it's amazing. They will watch most things with true enthusiasm, and that day Portugal was to play agains Switzerland. My new friend Mamoud proclaimed he would watch the match with me, so now I had to I had my dinner of preserved citron and chicken tagine, and it was very much amazing, and drank a 375cc bottle of Moroccan wine. It's not the greatest wine, it's below average in Portugal, but you live according to your surroundings What happened next was a thing of beauty, as I sat down to watch the match, 10 minutes after it started there were two guys there; one Moroccan, tall guy built like a closet, had a big smile but only one crooked tooth to be seen, then the other was clearly European. As he didn't say hello back when I sat down I asked if he was Moroccan and he answers with a very distinct superiority: "Moroccan, me? I'm Swiss!" I proudly stated I was Portuguese, and the Moroccan guy just erupted into the loudest laugh, and went to scrub his hands together in a way that clearly meant "game on!" Portugal finished the first half with 2 or 3 goals over the Swiss team, clearly going to win, my Swiss fellow traveler wasn't a good looser. I went out and smoked a cigarette with Mamoud and another guy, now part of the small group of avid football fans. I went and bought another wine bottle, to share with Mamoud, but did the gentlemanly thing and went to offer some to the Swiss, who coldly stated he was having a beer. So, instead of ordering a big bottle I got another small one, Mamoud wasn't much of a drinking and I felt awkward to drink a normal amount amongst company with unknown beliefs towards alcohol. German tourer parked for the night outside the restaurant, I can see the appeal in proper winter: The Swiss made fun of Moroccan wine, and went on to nurse the one sip left on his beer glass for a while, stating that in Portugal we do have nice wine. I agreed, and swallowed my mental response in which I told him that being a Swiss he knows shit about wine. Portugal won 5-1, the dude quickly got up 1 second after the final beep and stormed out, he was a twat and sadly the first contact I had with another foreign motorcyclist. Had another smoke with Mamoud to celebrate, who turns out used to ride a 125cc 2 stroke Yamaha (it went up hills with two big people no problem) said our farewells, and went to bed. It was properly cold that night, but I slept great after a day of motorcycle riding, mountains, good food and a little wine in me, and enjoyed my comfy bed with really heavy covers.

That's quite the new year resolution!

05th December, Monday During the night I felt like I heard the bike's alarm sound, it was parked outside but with video surveillance and very closely nudged between the hotel owner's suv and an old Land Rover, it wouldn't be moved without a commotion but anyway it did cross my mind. In the morning when I went to put the luggage on it the Landie had recently smashed windows, the bike was untouched so all's good and time to go. Such a nice place, I marked it on google maps to remind me where it is for next time I'm around, even if they thought I was German on account of the kind of motorcycle I rode in on. By 9 I was riding out. Starting the bike and heading out of Taroudant was a pleasure, warming it up slowly on still mostly sleepy usually very busy streets, There's kids playing football everywhere: I had a couple of calls to make, so by 10:15 it had just become office hours in Portugal so I stopped and got on with them. I stopped right in the middle of an amazing Argan tree orchard. While I did calls and waited for people to wake up back at home I got distracted and spent a while looking at trees. The darkness over the mountains in the distance? Yes, that's where I'm going. A little further on stopped for tea and to try and finally wrap up a couple of things back home, and got a little guy interested in my snack. And then, up the Tizi N'Test. It's a great piece of road, goes up to a little over 2000 meters and has been greatly improved since I was last here, it's hard to keep it safe with all the frequent rock slides, though, they smash through barriers like it's nothing. It's a shame, it's such a cool little road to climb that I really wish it went to 3000 meters and lasted longer, right when it's getting more and more interesting it reaches the top and you start descending on the other side. The other side of the mountain going down to Asni isn't as impressive. Usually, usually it isn't as impressive, today it was a little bit more dramatic than normal, winds were really very high and they had just had a lot of rock slides that were being cleared as I went past. The sort of thing that really blocks a road unless you're on a bicycle and can carry it over, or can REALLY mess up your day if they hit you. It's pretty countryside though. I stopped by a place I stayed at before, with Maria, it's a great looking hotel, with amazing modern Moroccan cooking, I stopped to have a look around but they were closed for season cleaning. I pondered on staying there, but just walked around for a little and then rode on to Marrakech, it was too early to stop anyway, and it really looked like the weather there in the mountains was going to turn quite nasty. Rains here mean muds and conditions that challenge my casual jeans and open faced helmet riding like an adventuring gentleman. It was good to go, spending a whole afternoon with nothing to do in bad weather would also be boring. At Tahannaout I saw a sign for a woman's cooperative and stopped as I still had a little shopping to do and felt like talking to someone. Women cooperatives are a way that Moroccan women found out of taking to market skills and labour that they traditionally do, like carpet making, argan oil products, spice preparations, all kinds of traditional stuff. Doing this via a cooperative it means they control their intake of household money instead of watching it being diverted to their husband's cafe lifestyle while kids go hungry. The ladies were very nice and one of them spoke perfect english, that's nice as my french isn't up to understanding a fast spoken conversation. I wanted to buy some saffron too, but they didn't sell spices there, traditional saffron is a great product, it's an expensive thing so it's a shame when you buy stale old strings, I was pointed to another place 45 minutes away, I made it in 30 There, as soon as I arrived the older lady, clearly the matriarch of the place quickly came and gave me a hug and said that I wasn't going anywhere until she got a ride in the bike of my bike, I told her that for that I needed a discount on spices and that she would be risking ending up in Portugal. Her reply was a big laugh, told me I could take her wherever, and a naughty wink! Moroccan women are cool sometimes. The whole place was full of pretty smiles, I did my shopping and then proceeded to give three rides through the village, each one with someone laughing along on the back. As we rode along the village I noticed that skies were turning properly dark above and that water was starting to flow on the sides of streets, coming from the mountain above. I resisted the will to linger around there and rode on to Marrakech. From there to Marrakech it was mostly flat straight roads, traffic meant a steady 60 to 80kmh, not fast but under that kind of weird traffic you're better sticking to slow. It's a road, but people turn around anywhere, bicycles share the road, kids cross it, people park half n the road, cafes have tens of scooters in front, all of them arriving and leaving like on a busy bee nest. I'm content to see the dark sky behind me I pick a hotel, book it within 1 minute, put it on the phone's navigation and easily ride into Marrakech. Sometimes we're spoiled by technology! This is the views and sounds of afternoon Marrakech traffic on a nice and organized avenue, from my hotel room window. Lets take a walk down to the main medina square, it was a half hour brisk walk to get there unless you get distracted or lost, I obviously did both. Police Kawasaki, they came running very distressed that someone took a picture of their bike. Cool tow truck! Bus station human mass on end of afternoon Marrakech And the Medina, Flavored with tomato, spices and onion sauce, it's great! I remember having it for 40 or 50 cents, 20 dirhams this time. A sign of times in bigger cities: The old Yamahas are a class act compared to the current 4 stroke chinese bikes. Motorcycle parking, zoom inside and you'll see hundred of them! Made my way to a small spice and herbs shop that I previously visited. I told the owner I had been before and he enquired about my life, I told him, showed him a few pictures of when we were before, and had an emotional moment. That properly left me sad and full of sorrow. I slowly walked back to the hotel with tears in my eyes. I had spent a week here in 2015 on the year the 1150 broke down before flying home, and visiting Marrakech had more of an impact on me than I anticipated. I gave a few donations to people trying to sell cookies on the street to make a few dirhams a night, one of the ladies cried and hugged me and wished me well, it felt ok to at least make someone else feel better on that moment. Got to the hotel but didn't feel like burrowing myself in my room, so sat outside in a café and had some hot tea. The next day would see mountains and elevation, I had a plan for a little adventure and was looking forward to it!

It's 2023 in a few days, no need for that kind of shame! Here you go @XTreme:https://goo.gl/maps/KSr964JnKKZPUjpXA

It was taken on the move from the bike, the focus sometimes does this weird thing when it gets confused between the standing still horizon and a really fast moving road below. I would say yes, but I don't really go out looking for that. Sadly sometimes there's a pretty fine difference between what seem like ruins in the distance and someone's home, though.

04th December, Sunday Wake up at my own pace after a night well slept. This traveling all day does provide for good sleep, and I can definitely feel that compared to when at home. I am also in love with the feeling of packing stuff to the bike, which takes 5 seconds with BMW's Vario cases, then have something to eat and some hot beverage, and then ride off like you're a pro. Makes me feel like a movie star The plan is to ride back east for a bit all the way to Four El Hism on the R102, then turn the bike North and use that canyon to climb over the mountains over to Argan territory, stop at a small town that sells some Argan based products, and then go in the direction of Marrakech past the most Star Wars sounding city name ever, Taroudant, and the Tizi N'Test mountain pass, all good stuff to look forward to on the start of the journey north, I certainly wouldn't be reaching Marrakech's chaos today, though, and was unsure where to stop. Ahead of me, I knew I had some of the best mountain roads over the following three days. Morning cold and saying hello to donkeys when stopping to put on my warm gloves. Reach the palm trees of Tamarnt and head north on a gorge road, the R107 starts down on the desert, enters into the mountains via a gorge, climbs on the end of it and goes to Tafraout: Arriving in Tafraout at almost 14:00, I shop around to buy a little bit of pure Argan oil, and have some amazing chicken for lunch And at 15:00 get back on the road north, heading to Taroudant! This was to be an amazing bit of the trip, Argan trees grow very slowly so most of the ones I see over these mountains are really old, it's a great experience. Over near the other side of that valley there is Taroudant, it was now about 17:30 so I was going to get there at around sunset time. Traveling here took forever, the roads are amazing and worthy of more time, the distances aren't even that great but I kept stopping to look at trees and pick a few argan seeds to take home. Temperature was climbing as I approached the valley in front too, which felt great after the morning's cold. Beyond the valley, you get the first glimpse of the Atlas too, it's always an impressive landmark to approach. Taroudant is a walled city, like a smaller less chaotic Marrakech. It's got a cool vibe to it, I stopped once for tea in the middle of the day and liked how it felt, back then it was quite a hot day though, and I was happy to sprint for the mountains, today it felt warm as I arrived which was good, the next day I knew I was going to be cold at 2000 meters. Being a walled city, it's got a few doors around it, but makes navigation hard, I searched on google maps for a hotel and found somewhere on the outskirts, it was now getting dark and I felt tired, so went for it, what happened next was a bit surreal. I showed up at the place and it was a riad sort of thing with a walled in garden like what is normal on the outskirts of town, it looked alright but had disco music blaring. I park the bike inside the closed gates, and there's a weird ambience going on. Walk into reception and the guy tells me they had a 700 dirham room for me, I laugh at him and tell him they've got some at 500 in booking, and he tells me to sit down and talk. Now, this dude sits down next to me and very quietly, and gaily, tells me to consider a special price of 400 dirhams with breakfast included, and that I should let him show me the room. It doesn't sound good, I get a weird feeling again and tell him no deal, and I prepare to leave, he then insists and tells me that for 400 dirhams I get the room, breakfast, dinner, and that he would really be happy if I were with him so he could show the room to me, and doing that he simply lays his hand gently on my leg. I then realize what sort of place that is, why I had a weird feeling when saluting the guys sitting on the garden, how weird and out of place the Ibiza type music sounded, and what really came with that room, so quite quickly told him I'd stay nearer to the city center, and left. I then find another place inside the city walls, it's pricier but seems really very nice and less chance of sex with other men. After getting a little lost I did find the location, and was delighted to ride a little bit of a weird access street lodged between the city walls and the hotel entrance itself. This hotel, the Moulin de Taroudant, (can't say Taroudant without picturing Jedis and light sabers!) was an old water mill now refurbished by a french guy, they had nice comfy beds, rooms with no offers of sex, and a very relaxing restaurant where I had a pretty gourmet fish skewer and aubergine pure, it was good. After a nice shower to wash the road off me, I was delighted to have a glass of Moroccan white wine outside, and then eat by the fireplace, where I met a nice older couple of Scots, and staid late drinking red wine with them. Charlie and his kind wife (with a very weird name that I can't for the life of me remember) were great company. I slept well, having had a bottle and a half of pretty average red wine I felt ready for bed. The next day? Mountain roads surely await, and adventure

03rd December, Saturday. I wake up with an email I receive every saturday at 7:10 to 7:30, usually that annoys me, but here it means it's a Saturday so an early wake up call and absolutely no calls or work stuff for two days. Being able to get away like this during work is a great privilege, and I am aware and appreciative of that, but never being completely off from getting a surprise call even if being out on an adventure does take it's toll and you end up never enjoying things the same. I miss that hugely, in my previous trips with Maria I would leave my phone with my brother who would take over completely for a couple of weeks, that is no longer an option so I take my phone and my portuguese number works just like at home. Also take my laptop, which has proved amazingly resilient over the last few years, but it's a weight I would rather leave behind. Today I can leave it all behind, it's Saturday, so let's go! I ride the full 1km to one of Tata's bakeries and have an amazingly unhealthy breakfast, along with a big mug of delicious orange juice. I ride south-west, past Akka and heading to Foam El Hisn. Back in Merzouga you felt like you're in the Desert, but here you do feel like you're in a remote country and heading to proper Africa. It's not everyday I'm here so I did stop a few times to enjoy it, I was still undecided if going all the way to Guelmim or if turning back north at Four El Hisn. This is an Acacia branch, and what camels will chew on, each one of those thorns is properly sharp and tough. Tizounine, a clear example of a grand avenue crossing the town, with expensive light fixtures for miles before and after town, but walk 10 meters out of that grand avenue's sidewalks and it's dirt streets and mud homes, can't help but notice there's a little imbalance. Plastic trash is a problem, and along with touts thing to squeeze money out of tourists in big cities, this is what will shock you the most in Morocco, in some places it is a shocking problem that nobody obviously knows how to deal with. I preferred to not document it in this report because I felt uneasy taking my phone out for a picture in front of someone's home to document how disgusting their street looks like. Those are real people living there, and the lack of a trash management structure is something that they will eventually be hurt by. Here, this is just a casual reminder you're still in society even though you feel like you're out by yourself looking at camels. Now this was a little bit of a cool moment, I am enjoying the solitude of the place and a true rock garden, I talked to Sofia and had just said that from now on it'll be wide open spaces but safe roads, tarmac, mostly wide roads until I turn back on and get north to the Anti Atlas and then the Atlas, I get on the bike to ride about 2km and stop, look to my left as a nice dirt road goes perfectly over the hills to the left. It's not everyday I'm here, so I ride up to see what's on the other side of those hills, and soon enough find myself in fifth gear on the most perfect dirt road ever made heading to the horizon. It's heading south kind of towards Algeria, it's not really clear where it goes, but it's so perfect I'm keen on finding out, I've got time and it's Saturday so the fact that I've got no phone signal at all is less of a concern. Sadly, a few minutes into it the perfect dirt road from heaven and it ends into this. This is not on google marked as anything, but it's around here: https://goo.gl/maps/wbrCcWvPmykJzQns7 and a little bit of a @XTreme ride report. It ends in what looks like a small abandoned fortified building, now in ruins. I had decided to make the most of it and go to Guelmim, so suddenly I had plenty of time as it was still 12:30. I ride down there and go exploring a little. From the top I see another building in ruins, and go see that too: Upon closer inspection the tiny building's remaining really stink! I start spotting a lot of animal dung and a minute later the probable culprits! Wild donkeys use this as their bathroom, they jump up from their sleep in the shade and get ready to run away. Makes sense that this place has a well near it, before roads this is a little out there, there's a river a few kms away so this well probably never runs dry either. Nowadays there's solar powered pumps keeping water available for animals, I decided not to try it out even though the sun was strong and this was the warmest it's been in this whole trip. And just like that, I'm back on the perfect dirt road, quickly getting back to the N12, and head south to Assa for a lunch stop. I stop on an empty snack place, and order a turkey grillade sandwich. While I wait my bike attracts the attention of three kids, who come to look at it and say hello. It turns into a photo shoot and even the guy from the cafe next door comes to have his picture taken on the mighty GS The grillade Panini arrived and it was delicious, turns out turkey can be delicious too. This plus a coca cola went for 24 dirhams, which sometimes makes me think that something must be wrong with some places in Portugal and the prices I'm charged for stuff that takes less effort than this. As I paid and said farewell it turned into a photoshoot for purposes of internet publicity in their google maps thing, that up until now looked rather poor. If you want go and post a like or a 5 stars rating: https://goo.gl/maps/GgDwhS3d8h7pFGWz7 The three kids that had previously came by did ask for one dirham, and I didn't have the heart to say no. I gave them a 5 or 10 dirham coin but told them to split between the three, as I was riding off I saw them come running back to show me the three big candy bars they got, with huge grins. It made me really happy, that, the wrappers are probably flying around the sahara now, but I chose to focus on their smiles instead. Again, Assa shows off with extravagant street lighting when most streets inside are dirt. I've been riding on the N12 since morning, it's a National road (the best quality road except motorways) with good safe surface and great views, but the stretch between Assa and Fask take it to another level. I would not advocate speeding but if there is one road in Morocco that you can enjoy a proper sports bike or a Ferrari on, this is it. I took it steady at 90 or 100kmh because the views also make it one of the most scenic places I've been. The day's ride ended on a high with all the socialising in Assa and the amazing views and road after. I ride into Guelmim and head straight into my hotel, it's not yet cold and at little over 15:00 there's time for a little bit of swimming pool refreshment, not that it was particularly warm. It's a nice hotel, that one, not much of traditional character but more of a corporate sort of affair. The state of my boots didn't match the other guests. Aware that it was probably cold, I refused to have carried swimming shorts all this way to not enjoy them and again dove head first into the cold clean swimming pool. It was freezing, a few strokes and I was back out catching some sun pretending not to be unpleasantly cold. That lasted for 20 minutes, maybe not even that, but it was worth it as my plan to say no to nothing has worked out so far and turns out it makes for fuller nicer traveling days when out by yourself. I wasn't really out by myself and lonely though, for some parts I relived very happy memories with Maria, I did chat with Sofia every day, and taking all these pictures to make a ride report made for useful companionship too, in the form of a silent travel companion that does not mess with my riding style, does not weight my bike down in offroad, or argues when I want to go for sardines on meal times. Made my way to the hot shower, and called a taxi to go to Guelmim to check out the end of day city life. the hotel is a good 7 km out of city, which makes for a quiet experience, and I didn't feel like riding the bike there now that I felt fresh and showered. The Taxi charged me 100 dirhams for a few minutes, which is outrageous, I protested but no deal. Paid up and felt cheated by it. This is the walk around Guelmim to finish the day: In Guelmim, mannequins displaying women's clothing don't conform to barbie style body images, instead they're of healthy full bodied middle aged women with huge boobs! I approve! Guelmim proved not to be too inviting though, and I did feel out of my comfort zone there. At sunset the city wakes up and the markets start to explode with movement. Too much diesel fumes on busy streets, too much movement and noise, I would have preferred a cold crisp glass of white wine but even sitting down for a tea or an expresso I was neglected, service took forever and I walked out from two places, all of a sudden and after an amazing day on the motorcycle I was not in a happy mood and took no enjoyment of the place. Even if you find yourself somewhere like that that doesn't conform to what you consider an enjoyable location, you are wise to remember it's only a momentary adventure and that in a few days you'll be home longing for distant lands. Exhausted after walking around Guelmim I sat down in "Corbina" the restaurant, and ordered a Corbina (Corvina in Portuguese, is a fish maybe similar to a big seabass) This is desert but the ocean is close by and they do have a lot of fish in their traditional diets. At first the restaurant seemed cold and the guys there sort of distant. The fish was amazing, I ate it all traditionally, out of that metal plate where it was cooked using my fingers and bread to scoop up chunks of fish and the delicious tomato based spicy sauce. Suddenly I'm enjoying a warm meal in a quiet corner by myself, I give the guys the thumbs up and suddenly all the bad spirits were gone, I think they got a kick out of watching me eat like local. At the end you wash your hands and you're no more of a mess than on an european restaurant, but I recognize it's not for everyone, and they will provide cutlery if you want it. the warm meal made me feel better about it all and I went exploring the street markets, some places defy health rules with live chickens being kept and sold next to a proper outside meat butchers, next to eggs, next to a sandwich shop, next to fruit and next to... you get the point Not really a football guy, but still I stopped for an expresso and watched life happen around me. Found a shop to put some money into my moroccan sim card, I had run out of calls to me, 20 dirhams gave me an hour and a half of international calls more, and some more data that I didn't need. Walked back some more to try and find a taxi back to the hotel and I tried a couple of petit taxis, the small red taxis, like Dacias or small Peugeots, but turns out the petit taxi don't go out of town, for that you need the grand taxi, and behold they take me exactly to the same guy as before. I grudgingly pony up for another 100 dirhams, this leaves me fuming and I ask at the hotel reception that they start calling someone else, that was clearly a tourist ripoff. I go to bed tired after a very long day with a myriad of things happening through it, this day alone felt like a whole trip by itself. The next day? The next day is Sunday, no work calls again and the plan is to go back into mountains, twisty roads and amazing scenery, ...

02nd December, Friday, woke up at dawn as soon as the sun cast sufficient light to hit me while still in bed, it's a lovely way to wake up also because here there is no TV, and very little internet to get distracted so you are forced to sleep early taking full advantage of the desert night silence. The previous night I talked a little with the hotel owner, and he told me about an oasis about 6 or 8km into the desert reachable only through proper sand dunes. Some hotels and tour guides have a few tents there and do overnight stays, there is no showers and limited use of water to prevent contamination of the excellent water quality they have there. It takes 1 to 1,5 hours to walk there with camels but only 15 minutes with quads. The silence of the desert night there must be deafening, I am eager to try that, and from what Hassan told me watching the stars there is amazing, extra amazing only though, because right on the edge of the dunes where I was staying you already get more of a clear picture of the universe than anywhere else I've been to. I was tempted to stay another couple of nights, on the night of the 02nd they had no other occupants other than maybe some surprise visitors but then on the 03rd they would be getting a 50 people group, if I were to stay that meant two more nights, and honestly I was worried that might push me too much into December and bad weather. Since I had been getting very lucky with the weather, I made a plan to visit again and next time go on the proper desert on foot or quads, now it's time to go back on the road. Waking up with the Saharan dawn, you can also appreciate desert style insulation on those doors : Bike packed up before breakfast, And again my favourite msmen and coffee for breakfast, while leisurely allowing the sun to rise a little and kill off some of that sand chill that seems to hit you right in the bones. The desert cold feels different than normal cold, during the previous days it got up about 15 and 18º in the afternoon and all the other tourists were freezing as soon as it got near sunset. Considering a group consisting of two Canadians, one Germans, two Swiss, some having flown directly from snow covered locations all exclaimed through an almost hearable teeth rattle that they didn't expect to feel so cold, there must be some truth to that. It does feel colder here. By 08:45 or 9, I rode off with a satisfying wheelspin, now feeling very confident with my surrounding terrain. My newly found confidence made me feel ecstatic and almost unwilling to leave the area, but it was the right thing to do as too much of that confidence would surely end up with an unpleasant event reminding me I am no Stephane Peterhansel. I decided to take only tarmac roads from here on, the bike having had a pretty good workout already, and also I realized that my luggage is the source of most of the unpleasant rattles I hear when riding on corrugations and proper offroad, I did not feel like carrying a broken luggage case in duct taped plastic bags. Next visit to the desert I will be carrying a different luggage arrangement if indeed the plan is to take more offroad pistes. My eyes were definitely teared up when leaving, it's a special location and I WILL return, I get a very similar feeling here than I used to get at the Nurburgring, both being motorsport locations and both with their own very special ways of biting back if you think you got things covered. After Rissani I stop as soon as the landscape becomes spectacular, and one last time try to find a fossil to take home. After 10 minutes looking I give up, say my farewells to Erg Chebbi and move on. I had a big day ahead, and from then on almost didn't stop through the day. I was headed southwest and planned on going past Zagora, to Tata an then Guelmim. Look it up on google maps, it's interesting terrain of wide open landscapes and mountains. No plan where to sleep, that would be tended to by mid afternoon depending on where I got to, riding at night with this cold wasn't on the plans. Acacia trees start to dot the landscape, and it definitely feels like Africa now. Stopped to have a sip of water, and ended up taking my knife to the plastic water bottle to cut it in half and provide three skinny dogs with some refreshment. They were cautious of me but as soon as I walked to a safe distance they slurped it down, no more water with me now, but I knew there would be plenty of towns ahead. Tissint is a pretty location, I remember that on a previous trip I was also surprised at how much water there was there. Stopped just enough to get a couple of pictures, and made way, this was a day for covering distance. Went past Zagora with just one stop to fuel up the bike, and rode on making it to Tata at around 16:00. I had passed by where before me and Maria had reached to stay for the night, but that was riding at much more of a leisurely pace, now I had a conundrum, either ride on and get cold in one or one and a half hours, or stay here and relax. Tata has an authentic vibe to it, no tourists, no Europeans either it seemed, and no touts. In fact nobody seemed to give a shit about me except for kids who always wave at a big motorcycle, so I stayed. Stopped on town entrance to eat something, a croissant and some yogurt, and check on booking.com and arrange for shelter. Don't know how to name that sweet by the croissant on the picture, but if you're ever in Morocco do ask for them by pointing, they're very cinnamony inside and absolutely decadent. I found a comfy and cheap place to stay, in a one single person bed bedroom, something I haven't seen in ages anywhere, but it had just been renovated and had amazing water pressure in the hot shower, something you really value after staying in the desert. By 17:30 I go to the bar to get a bottle of water and notice people are watching the world cup and drinking beer, not being my first choice on a regular day I promptly order a Heineken, and the bar tender is a little shocked at how fast a thirsty portuguese downs a beer in one go, don't think he ever saw that I have another by the very cold pool, good showers and cold beers after a long day on the bike are undervalued in Europe, but that beer too was quick to disappear and I went ahead and explored Tata, at 2€ each Heineken, alcohol in Morocco isn't a cheap pastime. Tata is now one of my favourite towns to stay for a night in Morocco, absolutely no tourist arrassment. Come with me while I take you for a walk around town into the night, have dinner consisting of some amazing skewers shared with little cats and a hungry dog, and end up drinking expressos while watching football on tv. Proper Motul motorcycle oil on sale, good stuff and all those 4 stroke scooters are safe! It's not a big town, but walking around felt good after today's ride. I made it back feeling quite cold and was happy to get to bed. Slept great that night. I knew that the next day would be packed with amazing scenery and big skies...

Thanks Bob! It's still got a few days to go though, but thank you!

It rained here … A lot, though

01st December is a national holiday in Portugal, it celebrates the restoration of independence following a period of union between Spain and Portugal. This happened in 1640 and is a pretty big deal for the History of Portugal as a country. This also means that all my clients are closed, and to me that meant that very little had to be done and very little surprise calls arrived. It contributes immensely to letting go of the real world. The day started with my usual berber breakfast of msmen and hot coffee, looking out into the dunes. With nowhere specific to go, I left with the task to ride around enjoying myself and then have lunch somewhere. Not a bad plan to have! The bike was started and traction control turned off, doing that to be able to easily move off from the overnight parking location is something that greatly appeals to me, also the 6 or 7km commute to Merzouga to buy Sofia a souvenir from Morocco without touching tarmac just reinforces that I could live with nice sandy roads instead of tarmac, on my way to Merzouga in the morning: Having done my shopping, I simply went out with a clear heading, away from town and in the general direction of some hills in the distance, I've never been there so as good a destination as any when all you want is to ride around a little. What happened next left me ecstatic, the bike now had a third of it's fuel load and my confidence had increased, this meant I confidently rode through soft sand sections like this oued below, here stopping to choose if taking the left or right paths right it was, and a little further on stopped to look at camels. Camels out roaming by themselves are great, they will completely disregard you as a thing of no importance to their day, and almost in a royal manner glide away with their smooth but effective stride. A later stop to drink water had me spend a few moments looking for fossils, Maria had a neck for finding them right there on the ground whenever we stopped, and I've got a small collection in my kitchen. I, however, am useless at stopping in the right location and managed to not find a single one on this trip, despite a few tries to look around for lost things whenever I stopped in a rocky area. As I am looking around, a curious desert bird decided to inspect my bike, on the pictures below you'll see it firstly floating around the right of the bike and then giving the bmw heated grips a try on the left hand grip: The little bird was scared away when a pickup drove to me and stopped, the driver quickly inviting me for tea at his mine with a big smile, and I accepted, as is only polite to do so. Followed the pickup at a distance so not to eat all of it's dust, and parked up the hill, they were most impressed but then I noticed the chinese bike one of them rode there. The mine owner was driving over with a big pot of stew for the guys' lunch or dinner, and oranges for dessert. At least a few of them sleep there during the week, it is a hard life! Always with a smile and a sense of pride, they showed me their labour, taking out rocks from the holes deep into the rocky hills and then sending them to a plant for extracting the minerals that were after used all over the world I don't know what for. Safety conditions seemed dire, and work was obviously very hard, I was treated to some great mint tea though. With an open invitation to pop by for tea whenever I pleased, I rode away. This time not stopping on any of the locations I previously took pictures of, gliding by with not a single foot on the ground through soft sand and phesh phesh felt great. That fine desert silt feels almost like water sometimes and you can feel it splashing onto the back of your legs like if riding through a deep water puddle. The bike is dragged down and you have to keep powering a little up to not be bogged down. Power too much and you'll gain too much speed and your acceleration is no longer sustainable, power too little and you'll be pulled down, you'll lose momentum and eventually the heavy mass becomes too heavy to control. The GS's boxer is an amazing help to dealing with the bike's weight, at anything over 2500/3000 rpm a quick throttle blip in second/third/fourth in soft sand and you'll power out of mosts things with a smooth amount of wheelspin. It all feels very controlable and confidence inducing, and it's a great high to be on that fine balance. I become lost and go up a hill to find my way back, even on trails it's very easy for me to lose my way around this open terrain. I ride back to Merzouga and stop at an edge of town café for lunch. The turkey grilled was amazingly seasoned, it was a lovely plate of food that I scoffed down at 13:30 after a hunger inducing morning on the bike. The bike was parked under it's cover facing out until the next morning and after a shower I spent the rest of the afternoon looking at the dunes with my sparrow friends. Couldn't bring myself to go up the dune, though, it was just too hard of a thing to do. The next day, I would ride off in the morning.

29th November, Tuesday, and I wake up after a nice quiet night of deep sleep. By 08:15, just a little after sunrise I'm already outside, and the bags packed and on the bike. Breakfast was luxurious, starter was very spicy eggs followed by lovely msmen. I felt proper cold when taking the luggage to the bike, and although I was sure to warm up a little going to the desert later on, starting a cold day on a full stomach is a nice thing. Leaving the hotel first thing was a nice idea, got to see the sun start to climb over the canyon walls as I rode down to Boulmane to put fuel in. Today I knew the ride was going to be flat and smooth rolling on main roads after exiting the canyon, by mid afternoon at the latest I would be in the dunes of Erg Chebbi. I rode slowly and took in the views as the bike was almost empty of fuel, it was proper cold inside the cold rock walls, and the early sunlight was almost magical when hitting the redish surroundings. Rode past Boulmane with just one short stop for a picture, and stopped for fuel. The gas station clerk was a little surprised to put 28 liters into a motorcycle since the moped on the next pump had just filled up with 2 After Boulmane the riding changed from the previous day's mountains and twisty roads and trails to empty spaces, the feeling of riding out of a deep tight gorge into wide open terrain makes you feel free and I both look forward to the desert and already miss the Atlas, the remaining of them here to the left in this picture. Fully fueled and cruising at a steady 80 or 100 depending on limits the GS is indicating 750km autonomy, a little optimistic but it is very frugal when going this slowly, fuel average dropped down to 4.1 this morning, from the previous day's 4.2 or 4.3lt/100km. Almost 10AM local time and I'm entering Tinghir, which is a proper town at the end of the Dades Gorge, the other main Gorge flowing south. In Portugal it's almost 9AM and I need to call a couple of guys so I stop for an expresso and walk around a little while getting those work things out of the way to then enjoy the rest of the day, which was going to be both beautiful but also emotionally demanding. And back on the open road heading SouthEast, everything changes as you approach the Sahara, people's faces, their clothing, cars and houses, all within 100km or less. Close to Rissani, I get out of the road for a discrete pee and the GS rolls on hard desert for the first time this year, the famous golden dunes in the distance! I go off piste before Merzouga. It was still early and I had time, plus part of me was a little anxious about arriving too. Off-piste is a great way of getting lost, even with the dunes in the distance as a clear orientation point I ended up getting half lost and stuck, so went back and found a clear trail Stopped by a souvenir shop to buy a couple of small gifts to take home and kindly refused their offer to rent some sand boards Now heading to the hotel, my previous shelter for a few times was the Auberge Dunes D'Or, and this time too. This place feels like a little oasis in the summertime, it's inner garden with a few trees and a nice swimming pool providing foreigners and all kinds of birds with much needed cool and shade. To get there I took a little sand road and avoided the tarmac, having not ridden on sand for a while and the GS being almost fully fueled and loaded with both cases, as I got distracted by this great tamarisk tree the soft sand around it surprised me, I slowed down, the front dug and I dropped the bike. Even if almost stopped when going down it did affect my confidence. The bike stood on it's own after I picked it up, and I took a few pictures to let it rest instead of running the engine right after being dropped. Then got going and a couple of miles later made it to my destination, pride slightly bruised but ok and no damage done by the soft sand. I got the same room as always, with the same amazing access to the sand from the back Made it to my room at around 16:30, having procrastinated for about 2 or 3 hours between coffee stops and souvenirs. A shower, a little conversation with the hotel owner, and off I went to walk up a big tall dune before sunset. Erg Chebbi is a very pretty place, the color of the sand is unique to this place, at sunset it glows in the most amazing tones of gold. People come from all over to stand over the tallest dunes to watch the sunset and sunrise, it was on top of one of the dunes that has since shifted that right before sunset I proposed. It has always been one of my favourite places before and still is. After taking all these pictures I just sat there and thought for a while. I was deeply sad up there, remembered one of the happiest moments of my life quite clearly. Over the next days I did look at the dunes a lot but didn't go up there to watch sunset again. It got cold and after a while I walked back down, the guys had kindly fixed me a welcome home Moroccan tea, but when they noticed I was sat there on top alone decided not to bother me. Teat was now half cold but I had it anyway, along with some peanuts. Dinner was a chicken and vegetable tagine, it doesn't look great on the picture but the aubergines were amazing. Very spicy, very nice and just what you need on a cold desert night. A few glasses of cold sharp whine wouldn't have gone to waste, either, but not on this hotel. That night I didn't sleep very well. I was comfy and warm in bed and it was very silent, I remember laying awake in such darkness that you can't tell if your eyes are open or closed, and thinking of things from the past. The plan for the following day was to wake up with the sunrise casting light straight from my bedroom window onto me, and enjoy the place with a nice ride around, an early swim in the pool while it made sense, and just enjoy the silence. 30th of November, I wake up with the sun indeed, but lay in bed a little tired from the night's lack of sleep. I made it breakfast by 9 to my usual msmen and coffee in one of my favourite rooms to have breakfast in. Sparrows couldn't care less about the quiet portuguese and finish up the crumbs left by messy guests. I throw them a few bits of pancake, which quickly disappear. After the previous day's lack of confidence in the soft sand, I felt little confidence in tackling that terrain. Armed with that little confidence, I went exploring what I could and see how the piste that went from Taous to Zagora was like. It's said to be something 120km of not too hard piste, some of it a little rocky and hard (typical of the region) but a sandy oued after Ramlia challenges heavier bikes and less confident riders or drivers. There is a tarmac road being built now, to help with he crossing, so now instead of an easy piste after Taous you've got tarmac almost all the way to Ouzina, a good 15 or 20km more. I faced desert traffic getting there, though: Tarmac ending is done with plenty of warning and I venture forward to see what it's like. The bike now has a little less fuel, no cases, and I am fresh after breakfast instead of late in the afternoon after skipping lunch, I have also loosened the damping overall. The piste doesn't seem as frightening today, and my newly found confidence allows me to appreciate it all a little more. A few kms later and I stop to ask a dude working on a land moving machine what he feels of the trail ahead. Ibrahim and me chat for a while, he talks about his times working as a truck driver in Mauritania and how cold it is getting now. His reasoning is that I might struggle with just a tiny bit of the crossing but if I can handle that area where we are ok, then I should have no issues. I feel good, and proceed ahead, after a bit I do come across a few softer sections but knowing that Ibrahim is around and that there is the ocasional 4WD driving past I am a little confident that nothing too bad would happen if I do get stuck. That confidence allows me to give it a go and turns out that it isn't that bad. The closest I came to dropping the bike that day was balancing it on the sand while stopped, the wind suddenly shifting causing it to drop towards me. It didn't touch the ground, but lesson learned and don't be cocky I start to warm up from the offroad riding, so stop to take off my warmer layer and just breath it all in. Desert sand smells like adventure! School walls in Morocco are always painted in random bright colours, even if the surrounding village is all built out of the same dirt colored clay, schools are always filled with laugher and brightness Exploring back near Merzouga, I found a dry lake. It does fill up with water after heavier rains, but not today. Some parts were perfectly flat, and I might have recorded the highest speed of this 5000 km trip on this spot, it was too tempting to resist... You better keep your eyes in the distance when doing higher speeds, though, because suddenly you'll be facing the sort of surface that makes me choose rugged tires to ride the desert. I suspect these will make easy work of softer road biased rubber. Lac Dayet Srij: It wasn't late, but I was getting tired, so headed to Merzouga to drink a cold coca cola and walk around, ended up buying a little bit of a spice mix and a few flowers to make tea with back at home. Also did the tourist thing and learned how to tie a head cloth berber style Went back to the hotel, and went on the swimming pool. I feared it would be cold from the night temperatures, but the theme of this trip has been to do what comes your way instead of obsessing too much about it, fill your day with things. So I dived head first, and promptly swam to the other side and went out, it was indeed freezing cold. Reinvigorated from that cold shock, I leisurely sat and watched the dunes imperceptibly shifting, similar to watching paint dry but more serene and zen. How cool is this? that day I watched the sunset from the hotel, it was also spectacular but more of an emotional serene experience. Later on, dinner was meatball tagine, and it was fenomenal. The previous day a group had arrived on a guided tour. The sort of thing that you book 2 weeks off and for 750€ get taken on a nice van all around, a couple of night in each location. Overall it's nice value to see stuff without the hassle of planning, all in this small group were individual travelers too, so they all got a chance to make friends. That night after dinner I went in to solve a little difficulty in communications and ended up spending the evening around a fire playing the drums. It was a nice evening too, and it felt nice to have company and good conversation late into the night. I had planned on leaving the next day, but had such a nice day riding around and contemplating the dunes that in my mind I wasn't going anywhere tomorrow either. Went to bed calm and slept from the previous night's lack of sleep. The next day would be my best day ever for riding my bike offroad.

Yes, that's just rude and most times a camera is a great way to ruin human contact. On other times, it's the oposite and magic happens.

28th November, Monday, I wake up in absolute silence feeling what you feel when you´re warm in bed and it's clearly cold outside and it's been a quiet sleep, however, I mustn't lay in bed too late as there's a tasty breakfast awaiting and my plan for today's ride is to go on mountains, over more than 2000 meters through broken roads and challenging terrain, I've done that before but in summertime the days are a lot longer and the risk of being in the mountains after sunset isn't being really really cold. Also, particularly exciting and always in my head was trying out a pass that I did previously intended on doing but never did because of rains and whatever. Being alone gave me a freedom of choice that comes with not having someone precious holding on to you, and also a lot higher offroad capability from not carrying a passenger. Firstly, packed everything onto the bike and went for breakfast. I like to have the bike all ready to go before breakfast, just putting on the helmet and tightening the jacket without the fuss of luggage feels a lot more relaxed when you do go. Now, I drink wine frequently at home, and you would think that quitting that alcohol intake would make me lose weight when on the road here, but what empty calories I no longer ingest here are amply replaced and more with breakfast calories and sugar, Moroccan breakfast pancakes are a weakness that I indulge in, and when it's really cold in the morning and you're setting off just one hour after sunrise having a good warm breakfast in you is very enticing. So, msmen and eggs and orange juice and coffee: Starting up I usually don't warm up my bike, but after a cold night outside and the oil at 05 or 06 degrees, I do: From my hotel making way to Boumia and the mountains, if you want to check on google maps you go from Boumia to Imilchil via the tiniest numbered roads available, this is my stuff! The bikes rides really well in altitude, the speeds are low because it's really twisty and the surface is challenging, plus the people here are ultra friendly. When there's no effort being made to translate road signs, you are on the right kind of roads I came up to this school transport van, which are frequently the most modern and better vehicles in rural Morocco, in the mountains they usually have double wheels in the back and are driven quite competently over a variety of challenging terrains, I stopped to let it cross this oued because I couldn't ride as slowly as it did. All the kids inside were waving back. As I was waiting for the van to cross the water, I was approached by a young kid wanting to take a picture of me, after I said yes and struck a pose I offered to take a picture of himself on my bike using his phone, and he was delighted, this in turn brought in two of his friends and we spent a few moments there. That was very cool, kids are quick to come up to you and ask for stuff like candy or a dirham, but once you stop and engage them offering a sit on your bike they suddenly are out of their confort zone and instead become curious and treat you with hospitality, such as their elders treat travelers. It's a good thing to experience, they still asked me for a sweet but I only had a tiny piece of cake wrapped in paper from the breakfast, they promptly split it three ways which ended up being barely nothing for each of them, and gave the biggest part to the girl. That makes you appreciate things. Riding on: Again, once upon a time all this was tarmac: I stop for a few work calls, my phone re-entering an area with data coverage that it was monday and I had a few emails arriving. The fact that I was parked in the below location while everyone that I spoke to in Spain and Portugal pictured me in an office made me feel very cool and special. Gusts of dry dust over a mountain pass beat a desk everyday! While that was happening, Morocco was going on around me: I reach Imilchil at 14:00, and stop for hot mint tea, Imilchil is a small town that feels epic. You get there are are bombarded with smells from grilled meats, coal smoke from bbq wafts in the air, there's exposed animals hanging from the butchers, dust blows, it's high in the mountains so it feels like adventure, pure adventure! Also people will salute you in a respectful way to then leave you about your business, it's one of my favourite places ever to stop for tea while making you feel like Indiana Jones. From Imilchil I go South, and at Agoudal consider what gorge to take down into the plains, Todra Gorge is very scenic with a very easy road, the colours of the sandy rocks is gold and it's an amazing experience at the end of the day under sunset lights. However, I went via the Dades Gorge. The R704 is one of Morocco's great roads, in my opinion, it's in the map in yellow and has a speed limit of 80kmh for the most part. This is very Morocco as you'll see, it's a very dangerous road if you're caught on a storm as the drops are fierce more so if you are driving a truck as it's a narrow road, or it used to be. They are making it wider and tarmac, they're working from each end and at first I'm disappointed to find this: But then, all of a sudden, the new safe and wide road ends and you're back to the old mountain pass, that's a good thing because to drive at illegal speeds here means to ride properly: My iPhone's camera doesn't translate the depth of the surrounding views: Again, I strike a pose, it felt silly but made me feel accompanied This R704 is amazing, I might have to go back next year because this is going to end and wide safe tarmac just doesn't have the same appeal. And just like that, it's over and returns to a normal Gorge road, with concrete oued crossings and village kids playing after school The first time I was in Morocco, in 2014 on the 1150GS, I remember coming this way on the oposite side and being turned back because the rains had caused mudslides to block the road, it was much narrower and more dangerous back then, but the views remain impressive: The long shadow reminds me I'm about to run out of sunlight and go for my planned hotel, but first still have to ride down into the riverside and into the gorge itself Although the sun was going down and already 17:30, some locations are just mandatory stops. Plus now it's all pretty much nice tarmac through easy marked locations so it's no longer a problem if night arrives. The below picture is one of Morocco's most publicized bits of road, and it was shot from the hotel I planed on staying, it was opening in 2016 when I stayed there with Maria and Rui, but I arrived a few days too late and they had closed for the season. Instead I rode another 5 or 10km and stayed somewhere else, arriving just as the sun drops bellow the mountains. Parked the bike in front, and still had time to have a hot shower and to sit outside with my laptop for a bit, before dark and coldness really arrived. The complimentary tea and cookies were good hospitality, I forgot I only had that tea at Imilchil since breakfast, riding kept me busy since morning. Dinner was a little bit of a missed hit on them, it was included in the room price as sometimes it is around these parts as you can't just pop out down the street for a restaurant. The hot pumpkin soup was amazing, the rest was a little weird but A for effort anyway. I liked it was hot and comforting, but not really memorable. Bedding was comforting, two layers of blankets over the sheets in a firm mattress, it felt cozy under heavy covers sheltered from a cold sharp night outside. I fell asleep late but comfortably, and slept soundly as one does after a busy day of dust and big views.