Pedro

After lunch, we got on our way again, there was a long way to go if we were to sleep where we intended. We were to go through the Gorge du Todra, then to Errachidia and north to where we were to sleep. Maria was back on Rui's bike Good luck passing here when the rains come! After our most touristy stop, Maria's back on with me, and we're off to Errachidia And just like that, we're out of the canyons and onto open space As you can tell by the light, the sun is setting, so we got out of our own way and made a little progress We can smell the desert air by now, but first, a little detour and find our beds for the night. It was obvious we weren't going to make it before nightfall, so we stopped to enjoy the sunset. Sunsets here are amazing, and it was a special moment It was pretty dark when we made it to our accommodation, but we were well received. First a nice shower, then some kind of hot meal I can't remember much about, and plenty of tea. I would have paid good money for a proper bottle of wine

Maybe a second vote between both bikes?

Carrying on, we were starting to arrive at the gorges (canyons) so the land was getting big, the skies were huge that day, and it was amazing, I hope the pictures show half of what it felt like We stop on this hairpin to enjoy the views: Maria rode with Rui for a while, trying to get a few pictures of my bike on the road. I hoped she didn't enjoy leaning against the top case too much otherwise I'd have to get one too After an amazing morning, we stopped for lunch. The air was crisp and clean, perfect temperature, and we ate somewhere with a view Coca Cola attrats flies, deal with it!

We had planned on a big day today, going through Imilchil coming from the north via mountain roads, which we never did before, go towards the desert, visit what appeared on the map as "legionare's tunel", that same valley which we didn't know either, and sleep there. We were up for a memorable riding day After a nice night's sleep, we woke up to a cold crisp morning, and feeling quite eager to get going, packed the bike and went for breakfast. We waited for almost an hour for bread, but then realized that they were waiting for the baker's van to arrive with fresh baguettes. It turned out to be simple but tasty, so we left happy. I might even return to this hotel if searching for a most Moroccan experience After the previous day's dirt roads, Rui had mentioned he had his fair share of eating my dust, so we planned on what looked like pretty good mountain roads, with numbers that made them look important enough to be tarmac. So far we were riding mountain roads of almost European quality, but then came construction work That lasted about 20 or 30km, and it got a little too soft for Maria's confort so she held on instead of taking pictures. At last: Some great roads ahead Starting to climb up to Imilchil, via a very cool mountain pass This was the definition of my kind of road, not offroad, not fast, but not really tarmac either, with great views As we go over the mountain, the road and the views both open up Arriving at Imilchil, we stopped for a tea I was a little cold up here in the mountains, I had come with my summer jacket and a fleece underneath, this was already October so I should have been better prepared. Back on the road

Next day we wake up in a great mood, had a nice day of riding and relaxing, packed and went for breakfast. I had my favourite Moroccan breakfast, (several helpings of) freshly made Msemmen with honey to get me going with plenty of sweet calories We check out, pack the bike (put sidecase on) and wait for Rui , after 20 minutes he shows up, and we're ready to go. Maria is quite enjoying me being annoyed for waiting. And we're off from Fez on a very short ride to Azrou. Azrou, to visit some furry friends of mine, is a very interesting place because if you were to not notice that most people are not light skinned you could think you were in Germany or Austria, just look at the streets and houses. It's a winter resort so they probably got inspiration from similar places in Europe. Rui wasn't too comfortable with the monkeys, but I enjoy them quite a bit. And I was very happy to meet my friend from two years ago, he's a cool dude: And we're off again, through the cedar forrest, with a brief stop by the half dried lake on our way to some route Maria had in store for us And off we go again, there was a detour to a small road (small on the map) that would prove to be very nice to ride. A lot of people outside of towns still use donkeys to bring their daily water home, this is what you see a lot of kids do in the morning After the dirt road, we stop to figure out where we were and were to go next. Spirits were high after this ride, it got a little hot at times and very dusty, but there you go. We head for a cheap hotel with a promising swimming pool via a road going near a body of water. Pretty views as the sun was going down Eventually we arrived at the hotel, it looked nice outside but was the definition of run down, the back looked like Beirute in the 90s, and there were lots of rooms with open doors and broken windows, staff was very nice and friendly but clueless. Beds were clean and the bathrooms as well so all is good. Morocco has a lot of places like this, big hotels built in another era that were left without maintenance for ages, and then left to a very small staff team that is unable to keep up so they just keep the ball rolling any way they can, with lots of shortcuts. We were in good spirits, though. 50 meters in front of the hotel there was a fuel station with a cafe. For some reason, some fuel stations have these huge grand buildings for a cafe, mostly empty, here is the perfect example Rui enjoyed following us along so much that he asked if we could travel together for a few days, so we now had a new travel companion, one that unbeknown to him would be present in something really major in my life ...

There's still time for someone to cast a final vote. Voting is a duty!

Some do, others closer to big cities ride R1200RT. I think some ride Transalps, but I might be mistaken.

I, for one, could have done without it

We wake up earlyish, have a quick shower, and go for breakfast, this is the view over Chefchaouen First priority is to get our data card charged. Since the way we do this is to go to network shops and pay cash for it we have to wait at the Inwi shop in Chefchaouen for it to open. The dude probably enjoyed a sleep in that day, but he was extra quick after arriving, must have been almost 11 by the time we left to go and see the road that we had left on a taxi the previous year. I swear you can see how slippery this tarmac is Grass, the kind you smoke: A brief stop for some tea And some more pot Lots and lots of marijuana growing in that area. You can see that everything that is properly green after summer has been well watered and most of it is pot. Everything is very well organized, houses have nice windows and isolation, lots of people drive more or less fast pickups or SUVs, you can tell there is some kind of money but it's not like you're walking amongst drug lords, they're just farmers whose produce is not really legal and pays a little better than most. Baby donkey cuteness alert! And a brief stop for some lunch, after the place we were last stranded. After some time taking in the smells and sights of openness, we get back on it, choosing backroads to head to Fez, these roads are probably tarmac by now and soon enough, we're in Fez Fez used to be the capital of Morocco, it's a proper busy city with loads of traffic, but a lot more pleasant to get around on than chaotic Marrakesh, Casablanca or Rabat, it also gets proper hot in the summer here, maybe more so than any other major city in Morocco. We were having no excuses, having arrived at our destination swimming pool, I went straight in. We spent a good couple of hours at the swimming pool, maybe three, and were already thinking Rui wouldn't be joining us so went for a shower and to get dressed, when he texted he had just arrived. So: we left Chefchaouen later than he did, rode on cooler roads than he did, stopped way longer than he did, he rode like a maniac while I rode slowly, and yet we arrived more than two hours earlier than he did. Not surprisingly, he eagerly accepted when we invited him to tag along the next day. Not before going out to dinner and a walk around a very warm Fez The next day, I'd be riding with company for the first time and we'd go visit some monkeys!

So, following 2015's trip in which my lovely blue and white R1150GS was brought home on a truck from Morocco, I decided I needed to change bikes. I won't lie and say part of me wished to do it again on the 1150, but later on I was proven right in my decision to change. The guy who bought that bike from the dealer eventually had a lot of issues with it, with a gearbox needing rebuilding and the diff also acting up. Both of these issues would have probable come up on the same trip I was doing according to his mileage. After our return in 2014 I had made up my mind in choosing between two bikes, a Super Tenere and an R1200GSA, I gave the Super Tenere a chance because I really felt it to be the better choice from a mechanical point of view, but we both felt so much more comfortable aboard the BMW that it wasn´t really a choice. The BMW is just the better bike for carrying two people over rough roads. On the 16th January 2016 I picked up my brand new R1200GSA, and turned my R1150GS in at the same time. See if you can't tell my mixed feelings handing her in from the picture, I did love that bike. I did enjoy the sound the new bike made on cold starts on cold days, I think that shows as well. Maria was with me, and this is as much her bike as it is mine, it was bought with two up touring in mind. Anyway, during 2016 we used it a little to break in and test her out in Portugal. Went to the Algarve in the summer, did what we did. We were both impressed at how easier it handled mostly when loaded, and when going over rough ground. A day or two before leaving for Morocco I fitted a pair of Heidenau K60 on it, and we were ready to go. On the 8th of October 2016, we leave our home near Lisbon heading straight to Tarifa, plan was to take advantage of the great weather and sleep somewhere south of Tangier that same day, no problem regarding doing the miles as we were leaving with plenty of time. As always, I fill up on our local petrol station at little past 09:30 and heading South Thing is, the weather was so good, and I felt worn out from the previous days of work stress. By the time we made it to the Algarve, only two and a half hours after leaving home, the weather is getting warm like and the sun is warming us. I decide to tempt Maria with a grilled fish lunch and a trip to the beach. She didn't take much convincing and the rest of the day was spent in this fashion: We had already been to Morocco, there was no stress or hurry to do anything, this trip was all about enjoying life and this is what we were doing, that was a great day. The next day we were on the road quite early, feeling fresh and eager. Crossing into Spain It's always windy near Tarifa, I think it must be kitesurfing capital or something, judging by the number of kites flying By 12:30 Portugues time we were already boarding the Ferry Doing this for the third time we had it all under control, as I was tending to the bike being secured properly, Maria went to get a front place in the immigration office, we were finished 10 minutes after the boat left, feeling like seasoned travelers amongst amateurs. Customs in Morocco were being fast and efficient, no worries, so I strike a pose ? As we exit the harbor into Tanger centre, everything looks cleaner than before, maybe it's just us but actually the entire place had been freshened up. Not the case with these buildings, though. We are remembered it's a Sunday because the cellphone shop is closed. So just get some money from an ATM and move on. Maria worked for BNP so we used one of their machines, cause we're cool people like that. Decided to head to Chefchaouen and try to sleep there, there's a hotel we had checked the day before with a nice rate on booking and we were just going to show up. Traffic was quite heavy for whatever reason and plenty of speed controls. Some bikers complain about cops in Morocco, but I've always found them to be very nice and professional. I've clearly been caught a little over the limit and let go just for being a foreigner, but I suppose if you really treat their country like a trackday they might feel like you deserve a squeeze. By the time we reach our hotel it's getting to be late afternoon, but still time to enjoy a drink or a swimming pool. Getting in we notice a group of bikes with eastern european plates, and one R1200GSA with a portuguese plate, carrying three full metal cases on the back. Checking in we were refused the rate we had seen on booking.com, so instead we just logged into their wifi, checked in via booking and 15 seconds later were given a room key and a smile. Go figure. Also while checking in we strike a conversation with Rui Piçarra, Rui was riding the portuguese bike upfront, and lives 20km away from my parents. We instantly hit it off and decide to join for dinner. After a swim, it quickly start getting colder (it is October after all) so we make haste in search of food. I enjoy my first BEER in Morocco before dinner! It's not shit, either. The reason I picked this hotel, the view: Being as he was, Rui shows up after we've eaten, and we start talking. He decided to come on this trip by himself a couple of days before, and is carrying a map printed on an A4 piece of paper , Not camping, he is packing all of his three metal cases for a little over a week by himself while me and Maria are packing two Vario sidecars in the smaller position for two weeks. Rui is packing four bottles of booze though We tell him where we would be sleeping the next day, if he shows up at our hotel in Fez we'd meet for dinner.

You're welcome, Pete. But there are two more trips, with better riding, more fun, better pictures, and no mechanical drama

It also didn't ruin my holidays, and simply turned them into the kind of holiday I probably wouldn't have had. I enjoy those memories.

An electrical plug not being connected by a mechanic can happen on any brand. It did put me off that dealer's workshop. And to be honest, I am inept, shouldn't have jumped to the conclusion and instead should have tried a lot more. That's the lesson learned there regarding bikes.

A few days after we arrived, the bike arrived as well. I went to help unload it from the trailer to my mechanic's shop, and I was quite angry to see that what was wrong with it was that the fuel pump plug hadn't been completely plugged, meaning the clicky thing that hold the plug didn't click, this had been fitted a year previous by the dealership that fixed it upon the last return from Morocco, and it just took a year to loosen enough to not make contact, but not enough that it fell off either. I was so annoyed at that. We tested the electrical wire that I stole off the tractor to make it run straight from the battery, and it was broken inside, making no contact even though it looked fine.

So we took to the swimming pool, which was pretty nice. We ended up staying almost a week there, never really being able to stray a long way from the hotel because I kept waiting for people to arrive with documents. We talked to the BMW dealer in Casablanca, who told us they only carry parts for the 1200 which is when they started with bikes, and as such any other part could take a few weeks to clear customs coming from Europe. I wasn't at all confident that I could fix it, so we sent it home. In the meantime, we changed plans and decided to make the best of it. We spent a few days in Fez, and then arranged to catch a flight from Marrakesh instead of Fez, to give us a chance to go there as well and get to see the place. A few days later, got on a train and went to Marrakesh And enjoyed Marrakesh as well We ended up having a great time as well to be continued...

Arriving at the hotel, I think we collapsed from exhaustion. The next day we tried to get the ball rolling as to where to go, how to fix the fuel pump, options, etc, except it was a sunday and there were nothing to do even though we had a busniss center at our disposal: The bike wasn't accessible for us to visit. We had two choices, have it sent home, collect it, or have it delivered somewhere in Morocco. All of these were final options.

And now you'll know why Aboukassim is a star, because there were a truck and a taxi going up and down the road on the other side of the village his family lives in, and he got on their car and told them where we were. Eventually they arrived And after a lot of missed comunication we load the bike, onto a tilted metal sheet covered in oil, and used to metal cable on the tow hook to old it down, there was nothing else to use. The yellow rope is just there to make them feel better, in case the engine protection bars fall off Complete with "D" sticker from it's origin We had the taxi ride from hell, the taxi itself wasn't too bad. There were to shocks left so it was pretty smooth, but we must have driven in first and second gear for two or three hours, I kept picturing the bike falling off so told them to stay behind. On second thought that wasn't very clever. Eventually we made it to Fez, and all was going ok up until they decide to load the bike onto a different truck, which I do. They then proceed to ask me for the bike papers, which I deny. Thing is, I didn't really care about them stealing the bike because if they stole it Allianz would have to pay for it dearly. What I couldn't do was let go of the papers until my passport had been "disconnected" from the bike. To prevent illegal imports I can't get into the country with a vehicle and then leave without, I would be in burocratic deep shit. A long argument ensued, between the tow truck guy, the second tow truck guy, the recovery company employee, the fixer, and myself. This carried on for a while with one of them trying to act tough, until Maria shouted at him. He clearly wasn't used to being shouted by a woman, so he was a little out of his depth. Eventually we left the bike to be taken to the depot, and went to the hotel, not to get there until we searched the whole of Fez for it, driven by a taxi driver that didn't understand roundabout or traffic lights. It would have been great fun had we been in the correct state of mind.

So, let me provide you with a little background to this trip. The previous year me and Maria had gotten back home with a bike that was leaking oil onto the clutch, still completely rideable though. The bike was ridden straight to the dealership where I had bought it, I left it there for a couple of weeks while they looked it over and had parts ordered. Output shaft had started leaking and contaminated the dry clutch. They were super nice about it and I completely understood that there was no rush in finishing it overnight. The dude who did it was happy to work on an older bike as they are probably Portugal's biggest BMW Motorrad dealer and he gets swamped with new bikes. They replaced the seals, clutch, and a few gearbox seals as well, I only paid for an oil change and was quite happy with it all. Until... A week after bringing the bike home I get on it to go to Lisbon and meet Maria for lunch on a cold friday morning. It was so cold that I stopped for coffee and to tighten my scarf 15 minutes into the ride before the motorway, to find out it was gushing fuel. Fuel lines were all loose. That was fixed by my mechanic, and rode it off. Then, before this 2015 trip I had the usual maintenance done, diff bearing and seals, throttle bodies balanced, etc, and it was running great when we took it to the Algarve in the summer, here arriving at Sagres and looking hella cool! This brings us to the first of October 2015, a happy couple leaving home on an sunny saturday morning after sleeping late. Fuel up and go, and go have a drink in the Algarve. Most clouds we saw that day I enjoyed starting it easy, as I usually do Next day, we're off to Spain We miss our boat and are forced to wait for a couple of hours in Tarifa, we tried to make the best of it with some calamari I strike a pose, this impressed the harbor people so much they let us by in an instant. Back in Tangier! The previous year I learned that most of the places we stayed in had a great swimming pool, and this year I made it a point to bring some shorts, so we got a hotel right in Tangier, and as soon as we noticed they had an inside swimming pool we made use of it. It's great to go for a dip after a day's riding. One size fits all robe was a little big: Came back to our room and what I thought was a wooden sculpture turned out to be a real life @Grasshopper's Ride Sunset in Tangier made going out to dinner even more special If you've got a sweet tooth, you´ll love this place, this is the Cappuccino in Tangier We had a nice dinner of some sandwiches, and turned in to watch some TV in bed, and rest. The plan was to visit a few of the places we didn't go on the previous year, including the Cannabis region, and Marrakesh. In the morning, as I get to the bike and load it, as soon as I turn the key I notice the fuel pump doesn't prime and as such it doesn't start even though the engine spins. I take the seat off and go for a wiggle on the fuses, one of them clicks and apparently it solved it because the bike started right away on the first try. This makes me feel proper manly by being capable of fixing shit. We ride off, into the hills and away from posh cafes. Passing Chefchaouen where we stop for a tea: And we turn away from the main road into smaller ones, this improves the quality of riding. Thing is, you have to be careful on these roads, diesel spills, slippery tarmac, potholes, gravel, fast taxis, no lane control, fast trucks, no lanes, donkeys, etc We're glad to be out and enjoying it, and this time it feels way less intimidating. Thing is, sometimes I think I can feel the bike having a hiccup, but that is usually through a patch of dirt or a pothole, and I assume I am imagining things. I can a be a bit hypochondriac when it comes to bikes and cars, so force myself to carry on. I do stop at a couple of mechanic shops to buy some fuses but all they want to sell to me is hashish Not long after lunchtime, we're happily riding along and as we go though a very slight bump the engine simply dies. It makes no fuss, like if I just switch the ignition off. We come to a stop and I start taking the seat off : First, mess with the fuses, it does nothing. Then, change fuses around, it does nothing. Change relays around, it does nothing. Look at the sidestand switch, it looks ok but I bypass it anyway. It does nothing. So I call my friendly mechanic, he's an expert bmw dude and he tells me that if indeed all that I checked is ok then it could be the fuel pump. In the meantime, we are handling this with coolness, we've got a battery pack for the phone, it's early and light out, it's an adventure. Couple of people stop by and offer assistance, this is good because it means we're not exactly in the middle of nowhere. Getting back to it... This is Aboukassim, and he's a star: Aboukassim lives in Casablanca and is here visiting his family for a celebration. He rode a Yamaha R6 at the time, and this is him showing us films of him blasting past traffic on his R6 in Casablanca? He doesn't know how to help, and we appreciate his effort, he tells us he'll be back in a while... In the meantime, I'm scrounging some electrical wire off a tractor parked nearby, to make a live connection between the battery and the fuel pump. I do it and it does nothing except some tractor loosing use of it's turn signals. above you'll see me calling Allianz's roadside assistance in Portugal. They "oh wow" when I told them where I was ? In the meantime, Aboukassim came back with a couple of his cousins, and food. They set a table right there in the middle of road with fresh hot tea and some sort of bread cooked while stuffed with vegetables inside. Good stuff but I didn´t really have an appetite. I should have eaten, though They left eventually, promising to check on us later. Allianz had already arranged for a fixer in Fez to get a taxi and a truck and pick up up. I understand it takes longer for a truck than for a bike to do the distance over bad roads, but it takes even longer if you get lost ... which is what happened Every time the fixer called he'd talk to Maria because she was a lot better at french than me, but it didn't really help because he didn't know french. He kept asking where we were and saying he was on his way so we waited had some tasty cashews and waited and waited and waited

You'll read it in the next installment of my Morocco trips

It's not luck, I bought it from a dealer specifically because I wanted to have warranty. On the second hand, I would have preferred to pay for it to be fixed at my mechanic considering what happened after.

I forgot about the bike. Well, apart from topping up the oil once she got home ok. Clutch got contaminated with oil and was slipping under heavy throttle but good enough to ride except in steep climbs. Dealer took the gearbox out and replaced the sealant under warranty, new clutch as well, and they threw in a few gearbox seals since it was out. Not everything was dreamy, but that is left to the next ride report which is going to be entitled "Morocco 2015, a lesson in changing plans"

Next morning, getting out we had a nice surprise waiting for us. Having looked at the sad state the bike was in, the auberge owner took upon himself to clean it. Armed with a chamois and a small amount of water, some moroccan skill, and I had a shiny bike again. "Such a pretty bike shouldn't be that dirty" is what he told Maria. We were on our way for some mountains again Riding this great mountain road, we stop for a little water, and I notice fluid flowing on the suspension leg. The left suspension sealant had given up and we had a wet fork. I wasn't too happy with this. This bike supposedly didn't have many miles but it was getting on with age, and had originally been registered in Hong Kong, it's true mileage was a mystery. "They say a plug goes in here, by hell it´s going here regardless if there is wiring behind it or not!" Next morning I borrow a small towel from the hotel and wrap it around the suspension fork, just to prevent oil from being thrown at me and at the brakes Rabat was on our sights, we had gotten out of the mountains, slept in a hotel not worth a mention, and started to arrive at Rabat by lunch time. Rabat was a shock, two nights before we had been to the poorest place we had seen, and now we entered Rabat through an avenue populated by mansions, some of them embassies, and one of the royal palaces. Here is one of royal palaces side entries Took us a few minutes to ride around that to get to the main avenue, we did try to pop into the main entrance and say hello but we were declined. They weren't happy when Maria went for her camera either, so no photos of that Settled into our hotel in the city centre, in a not so posh area near the medina, and went for a walk. Rabat has got a massive cemetery by the sea, from afar you think it's a crowd but as you get closer you realize it's headstones. Well, still a crowd if you think about it. Taxis make you feel like you're in the eighties, and as the end of the afternoon arrives the center starts to come alive, and the Medina wakes up We find a nice place to eat, it turned out to not be that nice but we could see people moving about outside and gave us some rest from a tyresome day. An early night in, and we slept well. In the morning, our poor hotel looked even more disheveled than the previous day, we waited forever for some breakfast, ended up having a stale croissant and some tea. It was a disgrace as pastry is usually as good in Morocco as anywhere you can imagine, a Moroccan patisserie leaves nothing to be desired to a Parisien one, except coffee here is better. We left Rabat and headed north to Tangier, for our last night in Morocco. Traffic was horrible leaving Rabat so we took the motorway. Not sure where, but around Asirah or Larache, we stopped for lunch, a nice fish soup I thought we had. This area looks almost 100% European, except for the minarets. We continue north and enter Tangier through the posh side, very expensive homes with huge properties, everything very well trimmed, and I decide to splurge and stay in a luxury hotel. The place was so nice I just couldn't say no. We walked into the marble floored lobby, leaving dust where we stepped, and enquired as to occupancy. The rude lady replied with a price I just said ok to shut her up and later did the calculations in my mind The place was amazing, and we lounged all afternoon: No pictures of the dinner that night, although it was amazing, in a balcony overlooking the ocean. I have since been there and have taken better pictures so you'll see those on the next reports. Next morning we were in no rush so rode to Tangier center, and stopped in a cafe for breakfast Boarding the ferry was uneventful, but during the trip this random lady thrust a baby on my arms and went to the bathroom. 15 minutes later I was starting to worry she wouldn't come back Spain received us with a pork sandwich and nice weather. Two days earlier, Maria had chipped a tooth chewing on some hard bread, and this is why we don't have many pictures of the last couple of days. We stayed in the Algarve to try and make her feel better, but eventually had to ride to Lisbon with a badly broken tooth and severe pain, through a rain storm in a motorcycle helmet. She cried with pain and it was a tough ending to an amazing trip that I'll never forget. I really liked reliving this entire thing, and will post three more reports of our other Morocco trips in the upcoming days.