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I had made plans to go to Morocco in late September, but then a few things conspired against it. My brother was working in Croatia and Hungary and I think my parents can use some company to not deal with their health things by themselves, also my mum turning 70 with none of the sons around was a little depressing, to top it up work stuff went chaotic a few days earlier and that meant me having to do a lot of phone calls and emails from over there every day, I didn't want to have to do that as it would take away a lot from the trip. Also, I was a little afraid of how I would cope with arriving in Tangier. The last time I was there my girlfriend passed away and I left her behind after being pressured by family and the embassy to go back home. I never stopped feeling like I did leave her behind and I became anxious just thinking about it. A few weeks after postponing the trip to 2023, most of the work related stress was handled, my brother came to Portugal for what was a longish stay until January, and the weather in Morocco looked like it was going to be pretty much ok. Usually by October some parts of the Atlas get snow or at least heavy rains that compromise roads and pistes, but as I look to the weather forecast the rains that fell in September seemed to give way to sunshine, suddenly my dread and at least partially been replaced with enthusiasm. At the last moment I had the Mitas E07 + tires fitted, and on a rainy Monday morning went past the dealership to change the oil on the bike. My trusted mechanic got sick the previous week and couldn't do it. He works at that same dealership as a consultant trying to improve the mechanical work part of the business, so he came around to give me a hug and wish me a fun trip, he relates to a lot of my feelings as his wife passed away after being victim of a hit and run accident, being left on the scene. On a very rainy Monday I ride down to @Sofia's for a dinner with her and the next day I stop by my place. I spent two nights by myself there putting my head on straight, that wednesday was spent packing my stuff into the bike cases and trying hard to anticipate and solve as much work problems as possible. I also wrote a letter that I left behind on top of my dining table, the last time I was in Tangier I spent considerable time thinking that my life wasn't worth living anymore, with that being a realistic outcome of this trip I tried to not leave loose ends behind, settled a pending matter with Maria's dad, and leaving this letter made me feel more at ease with things. I also concluded I can't pack worth shit! With Maria we used to carry clothing for 4 or 5 days for two, rain overalls for two, etc, now I'm having trouble closing the bags with just my stuff, plus the laptop I didn't use to take, I'm not good at this! I slept very well, to my surprise, and on a dry 24th November morning headed south. I planned to sleep on the way, in Alentejo, as I did absolutely not want to arrive in Tangier at night in the end of the day. I wanted to get out of home and use only tiny country roads to spend the day like that. My plans for small roads was frustrated by the clear very dark skies to the East, so instead I got on the motorway and headed South to the Algarve. As I crossed the bridge over the Tejo River the dark skies to my left made me smile inside my helmet, my rain overalls were in the case and that's where I like them! I rode for a couple of hours always narrowly avoiding the rain while at the same time riding over damp patches of motorway. Arriving at the Algarve with plenty of time to spare before lunch time, I get of the motorway and take the twisty section of the N2 before arriving in Faro, some great twisties over the end of this road that crosses Portugal from North to South, and a chance to carefully scrub a little of the Mitas, they weren't providing much confidence on wet motorways, which fair enough to them makes sense when it's the own manufacturer that states that this "+" compound makes them less ideal to wet and cold. Brief stop for a scenic pee an hour before Faro Made it to Faro beach for a great ham and cheese toasted sandwich Then rode to Faro center, and went to the pharmacy to buy some stuff to take with me on prevention, and a tiny power bank to be able to charge the phone during lunch breaks. Also bought a book that I did not touch through the whole trip! Faro was looking great during winter, as always. My dad sold his place over there so I looked for somewhere to stay, it was still pretty early and hanging around Faro was starting to be weird without the place for my own, so booked somewhere a little closer to Spain and headed that way. Turns out that was a great success, I managed to get a nice price for a place that allowed me to park my bike ride outside my room, went to the supermarket to buy stuff for breakfast and a couple of beers, and worked a little. Early sunsets bug me, you ride all day, sun sets, night comes, and there's still two hours to go till dinner time. Took a walk around and a nice few pictures of the Ria Formosa fishing boat scene Chose a restaurant to have my dinner, the place's name was very promising but to be honest the meal didn't warrant pictures. I was left a little dissatisfied but at least the wine was decent. Thursday the 25th at 07:15 we were off to Spain: Quite happy to keep my rain gear locked in the case, I contemplatively rode to Tarifa without putting a foot down at all through Spain. Stopped there on a lookout just a couple of km before Tarifa, I take a picture of Africa as viewed from Europe and suddenly it hits me that I'm looking at Tangier. I get filled with a feeling of sadness. Just looking at it across the water. On some days it looks very clear like this, on some others it looks more distant, it's a 1 hour ferry crossing to get there. The boat leaves at 13:00 and I was early, like I like to be. I sit a little around Tarifa and have a mediocre expresso to kill some time, and make my way to the port to wait for the boat. A pretty cool camper was waiting as well Crossing to Morocco on a bike is great, you get waved to the front of the line, you get there at the same time but it makes me feel like a rockstar to be waved to the front of the line. On board the boat you go through passport control, and fill out a health paper on account of Covid, stating what seat you used and stuff like that. Completely fuss free mostly because since you board the boat first you get there ahead of everyone so there's no line for the passport control. Also, it's low season so not really a lot of people on board. I feel a little numb about the whole thing, like it's someone else that is doing this. The customs entering Morocco are fuss free compared to before, before you had a place for passport, then take your passport to another place for importing the vehicle, than back to the other place, it felt like an adventure, now you step up to a lady with a computer, and 1 minute later she gives you a little piece of paper related to your vehicle and that's it. That efficiency takes away from the feeling of adventure though, it's like you're entering Andorra Tangier also feels sort of European and developed as soon as you exit the port, no longer the smell of decomposing fish and decaying cars, now the beachfront looks like a poorer version of Dubai, I stop to make sure my e-sim actually works in Morocco and it does. I had no plan for the rest of the day, had to buy a sim card for data usage in Morocco, get money off an atm, but instead of doing that I rode the half mile straight out of harbor and stopped right on the hotel I last stayed over there. Parked outside and slowly walked in, to then stand around a lobby that has since been remodeled. It's got different artwork on the walls, different sofas, etc, but felt completely familiar and exactly the same energy that I felt when I was brought back here by the police after interrogated following Maria's passing. I was then left 2 or 3 hours in this lobby while the room was being inspected, cold and broken and in despair. I had called ahead to try and get my previous room available for a visit but unsure if I was able to spend the night. Those calls didn't go very efficiently, communication was not easy, so I just showed up and explained who I was. The hotel manager showed up and we talked a little, she remembers exactly what happened and how I spent a few days there the last time, and she took me up to our room. Room 501 was remodeled like the rest of the hotel, everything looks fresh and more modern, the bathroom completely redone, bed is now comfy and modern, but the space is the same and felt very familiar. I sat on the bed a little and was left alone for a while, and wept silently. It didn't feel sad, it felt familiar, I just wept for a few minutes, and then left. Back on the lobby I was told they were fully booked, I was now feeling completely exhausted and just felt like a comfy bed. A few tears rolled down my face as I rode off, and was tenderly waved away by people that had previously seen me at my lowest. With a fresh data card and money in my pocket I went to have something to eat. Quickly made a friend, interested in pieces of chicken from inside my sandwich, which he quite appreciated. I was depleted of energy, it wasn't late but I couldn't face riding away from Tangier. Also didn't want to pay top money for a beachfront luxury hotel, instead I went on booking and found a place very nearby, maybe one km or even less, with what I needed the most which was a closed secure place for the bike. It looked very typical going in: I did not like that room one bit, but it was just a place to stay for one night. Had a shower and went for a walk, that neighborhood was a typical medium class place in Tangier, feels proper shitty, you get high end condominiums on one side, with Mercedes G-Class and Range Rovers, and on the other side you get destitute people, sheep grazing on empty fields next to luxury hotels and casinos, and in between both is where I stayed. Some areas of Tangier clearly have a stray dog problem, clearly they're fed by some people so one or two protect that doorway like it's their territory, it's a cheap way to have a guard dog without exactly owning an animal. Felt horrible and I hated it. Walked to the beachfront through the park Cheaper way to have a tea by the sea: Right next to the more exclusive option It was a pretty sunset, but all I could see was what I didn't like about it. The hungry cats and dogs, dirty kids begging for a coin, bad smells anywhere not with a tended lawn and polished car badges. Feel the beat of the city, right! It was now cold, and I sat down somewhere completely non interesting and had a pizza. It was just the easiest thing to choose from the menu and not nice at all. Football was on the tv. A short walk back to the riad / hotel, and my bike is safe in it's closed space. I felt sad and regretful of coming. Had a conversation with Sofia and went to be feeling depressed and miserable. My room had an air conditioning unit that was too loud to have turned on while sleeping, there was a busy road nearby that seemed to have noisily come alive at night, and my bed was a little itchy, later found a long hair on it, and it clearly didn't come from me. I had a cold miserable night, and eventually passed out from exhaustion at 2 or 3 AM, having decided that there was nothing for me here except sadness and to go back the next day.

Starting a ride report weeks in advance the actual thing takes place is not my style at all, I hate all the hype. However, this is more of a declaration of intentions so that I have no excuse to cower out at the last moment quoting some excuse. I have been making tiny preparations over the last few months, just to get myself in the mood. Stuff like renewing my passport, buying a phone that can manage using Moroccan data while keeping my Portuguese number active for (pretending to) work, buying a fender extender to protect the rear shock from rocks, buying a half tinted visor because the dark one is deadly at night and days get shorter in October, buying tires two months in advance, etc ... all that seems like over preparation but in fact was just me trying feel a little more in control by solving stuff when in fact I'm honestly plain scared about what I'm going to face riding out of that boat in Tangier. I've gone to the ridicule of freezing a couple of things at home, so that I have something nice and warm ready for when I return in the dark. My plan is to visit some familiar places and mix that with a bit of adventure, maybe see new places maybe a little more off the beaten path. Mountain passes are what I look forward the most regarding motorcycling, more so when they're heading to the wide open desert heat and herds of camels, in this case it's the easy familiar places that really amp up my anxiety, places where I proposed marriage and was happy, and where my heart broke and I contemplated darkness. Not sure if it's the happy places or the sad one that will challenge me. I'll be doing it alone at my own pace because that's how I deal with stuff, and because in a weird way I can't help but scratch wounds, you know it'll hurt but can't stop yourself from doing it. Today I booked a ferry ticket for the 29th September, a few things were starting to make me doubt going and finding an easy reasonable excuse for staying home working instead, so I bought the ticket and posted this so I'll be too embarrassed to not go at the last moment All that's left now is give the bike a small service, like an oil change and air filter change, and put the new tires on, and hopefully I'll be good to go. I say hopefully because I'm not really up for fixing anything on it, it's never needed anything so here's to that! My mum's 70th birthday is on the 27th, so on the 28th I'll ride to my place, pack everything nice and tidy and get in the mindset, have a nice sleep and on the 29th set off to catch a ferry that's leaving at an unreasonable 15:00 from Tarifa, since it's an adventure I'll probably miss that boat and call an hour earlier to change the ticket to one at 19:00 All in all, it'll be a grand time filled with extreme emotions, a perfectly reliable bike, twisty mountain passes shared with overloaded trucks, smells of spices wafting through street markets, and dusty boots.

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.

Earlier that year we had spent my birthday in June at the Nurburgring, with @Sofia: On August we took the GS to the Algarve for some sunshine And in the meantime we did plenty of short rides on weekends, life was good even though work was pretty tough. After ending our 2016 on a high, Maria was intent on us taking a two or three year breather from Morocco and trying other kinds of trips, be it on bikes or not, but to other locations. Me? I was keener than ever on going again as soon as possible! We were getting to know the place, and feeling at ease with the people, the food, the traffic, the amazing roads, and now I had a bike I trusted to be a reliable vehicle for us, although we don't do serious offroad on it our trips do search for the smallest roads we can find and as far as roads go they're pretty tough. There is no destination that is so culturally different and makes you feel like on an Adventure, and so close and afordable to get to than Morocco. Part of me wanted to try and go alone, almost exclusively to do that offroad piste between Merzouga and Mhamid, and I knew it would be too much for my skills to do it with a passenger, as well as not fun at all for Maria. But more than that, I wanted us to go again together. I came up with the excuse that we should do it on the new bike before the warranty expired, and she let me think I conned her. I think that by late August, riding the bike through Alentejo, she started to miss it too Our goal for this trip was to revisit some of the places we loved, but also to see some of the mediterranean coast, spend a day on the Merzouga dunes again, to go as far south as Tan Tan, to cross the Atlas on a different route than before, mostly without skipping on swimming pool relaxation moments and most of all go with the flow and enjoy. All of this meant we would probable be on the longest ride we ever did, but considering that on all previous years we had spent a couple of days after returning before going back to work, we were pretty safe. The previous week a set of new Heidenau K60 were put on the bike, on friday I joyfully left my mobile with my brother, and on the 23rd of September 2017, we left Azambuja heading south. There are no pictures of me fueling the bike up that day, in fact there are a lot less pictures this year than on years previous, I guess we were more relaxed and enjoying the trip more instead of worried about the camera, you miss a few pictures but the enjoyment you get at the moment is a lot more. Our plan of getting our move on was foiled as soon as we got to the Algarve, with great September sunshine, and Maria felt like having a grilled fish lunch at her favourite place, obviously this led to some glasses of wine, the beach, going out to dinner and sleeping in Faro. Didn't take much to convince me! The plan had lasted for 3 hours ... fuck the plan!

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

I will post 4 ride reports from Morocco, from the past, from 2014 to 2017. Here is the first. Early in 2014 I bought a BMW R1150GS, specifically to tour with Maria, my girlfriend. I had been without a road bike for a long time, ever since I had sold the Transalp, and we both felt like touring together. First trip had been to the Algarve, and served as a shakedown run, it was good fun, ever since I had updated some of my gear and the bike had been fitted with Heidenau K60 tires which offered a lot more confidence out of tarmac. Tires were fitted the previous day, so I wasn't too confident on them On the 27th, early morning we fueled up on our local gas station and I was feeling properly excited like a hardcore adventurer ? We travelled with a phone and a small camera, Maria used the camera to take most of the onboard pictures, the reason there are none from the road during the first two or three days is that I deleted them all one morning while checking the camera when waking up. We had about 8 or 900km to go to get to Tarifa and catch our Ferry. Had I not deleted the pictures we would have some great ones of us riding into a rain storm on the way there, and stopping under a motorway bridge to put our plastic overalls on. As such, there is only this one of a brief coffee stop in Portugal, before venturing into Spain and coffee instantly turning to shit. Weather was shit, but spirits were high. Like real VIPs, we rolled into Tarifa and into the port, must have waited no more than 10 minutes before arriving and passing a long line of cars, bikes being given priority into the Ferry. Maria, unquestionably the better half of us We messed around taking selfies and making videos such as this one, of me trying for the first time pack Maria's plastic rainsuit into it's own pocket. We thought we had all the time in the world, never having been on this boat we didn't know that customs immigration desk was aboard the boat, by the time we realized what the big line was about we had a nice long line to get behind of. At least you now have the rain suit video because of that. Getting off the ferry was easy, and customs were easy too, with just enough difficulty to make a newbie feel like an adventurer. We had booked a hotel in Tangier and only had a couple of km to ride to get to it. First meters into Morocco, for the first time: I'll never forget these minutes first entering this country, traffic was noisier, roundabouts weren't quite dealt with in the same fashion as in Europe, temperature was higher than when boarding the boat in Spain, you could smell Africa in more ways than one. I'm glad we have this short video, nothing really interesting to see but I remember how happy and fearless I felt doing this. Easily made our way to our hotel, securely parked the bike on a guarded parking, and checked in. I'm taking my time describing all this because it really felt like everything was new, from the way we were saluted when getting in, to the hotel decor itself, not European at all The room didn't share any of the grandeur of the lobby, so no picture of that A quick shower, a little rest, and we're off to have dinner and a walk. Also buying a mobile data card to use on Maria's phone. I loved leaving my own phone with an employee so that he dealt with everything while I was gone. Mercedes station wagon converted into a snail selling food van (just to clarify, snails as food): Made our way into the Medina, which was pretty busy, and went into a proper restaurant to have our first meal in Morocco, I was starving: Here I am waiting for my full tasting menu viewed from the second floor: First some soup and light entries Pastilla, which is a some of sweet and sour pastry, with lots of cinnamon outside and curry chicken or vegetables inside: I was full by the time the tajine arrived, but I had never lost a fight against a meal before and wasn't about to either. Furniture was built with no regard for industry standards, here are Maria's feet while sitting on the restaurant After dinner, we made our way back through some deserted streets and went to bed early. Noisy street outside the hotel, heat, and most of all excitement prevented me from falling asleep early and I must have stayed up until 2 or 3 AM thinking of what would happen the next day. Will continue later on.