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Morocco 2022


Pedro

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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!

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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

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Made it to Faro beach for a great ham and cheese toasted sandwich

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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!

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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.

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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

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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.

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Thursday the 25th at 07:15 we were off to Spain:

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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.

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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

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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. 

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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 :classic_laugh:

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.

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Quickly made a friend, interested in pieces of chicken from inside my sandwich, which he quite appreciated.

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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:

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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.

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Walked to the beachfront through the park 

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Cheaper way to have a tea by the sea:

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Right next to the more exclusive option

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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.

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Feel the beat of the city, right! :classic_laugh:

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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.

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A short walk back to the riad / hotel, and my bike is safe in it's closed space.

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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.

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Interesting start to your trip Pedro, I suppose it was always going to be rough with all the memories and such like.  I've no doubt that leading up to the trip you must have played it over and over in your mind, trying to imagine how you'd get through visiting those familiar places again .

I am looking forward to the rest of your report 👍

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great right up @Pedro i read it all  ,i dont normally read all reports that long ...

it was always going to make you feel sad , it did me and i was only reading what you went through , respect for going back there it was obviously something you felt you needed to do... 

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Friday the 25th November, I woke up before sunrise.

Turns out Morocco doesn't switch hours for the Winter, so while the previous times I visited the Casablanca clock was the same hour as Lisbon, now it's the same hour as Spain, this means a late sunrise at around 8:00. It felt weird, I woke up at 6 or 7 and it was too cold to get up, I was awake looking at the ceiling wondering what to do, and made a decision to not be a pussy. I'm not going to escape discomfort by turning this into a 1500km ride to revisit pain and suffering to then ride back and regret not riding the bike and adventuring. I had wished for a proper ride before in the year and might as well quit my sobbing and get on with it. Having made that decision I sprung out of bed, had a shower, and fucked off out of that unpleasant room. The previous day I had asked for a bottle of water to be handed over a plastic bottle of Evian, filthy, with a bottle cap still half open from refilling it, and the water looking murky as hell. This is not a common practice in Morocco and in all my travels was the first time it happened. Because of that, though, I decided to avoid breakfast and just rode off and reported the bottle issue to booking.com

Avoid: https://goo.gl/maps/pGX9VWKarwuHTFcD8

I like to start the day with a full tank of fuel, on the GS in Morocco that is enough for more than a day of country roads. I only fuel up on three fuel brands, Afriquia and Shell in most places and Total now also commonly available. My previous experiences with others didn't feel right on this bike and you can find Afriquia everywhere, so stopped on the first one out of town.

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The ride is on and getting out of that fuel station felt great, I was back on and feeling like myself!

These are all familiar roads, and I rode to Chefchaouen for breakfast, the road from Tangier to Chefchaouen is in my opinion the most dangerous in all Morocco, it's currently a national road with two lanes each way in most places, the tarmac is smooth but so slippery, in the picture above you can see how the morning light reflects on it like it's glass. You get this in summer heat and cold morning mist just the same, it feels dangerous to me. 

Rode past Tetouan and it's smelly outskirts, the amount of trash surrounding that town is getting to scary levels, don't know what Morocco will do once they start collecting all the plastic littering the hills around small cities or towns. Tetouan outskirts always have this haze of unpleasant smoke that smells like a mix of open sewers burnt plastic, it's a nice place though :classic_laugh:

An hour and a half later, stopped for breakfast. Had a nice weird sort of croissant thing and an amazing orange juice. It was cold and that was interesting as I had never been cold here before. Then went on a little walk to buy a water bottle to take with me, and maybe a snack as it's always nice to be able to stop somewhere with a view for lunch. The water bottle was a success but the roasted dry fruit stand I like wasn't yet open, and being low season there weren't many tourists around. All the touts concentrated their undiluted efforts on me and tried to strike a conversation to ply their "mountain price" hashish, "police doesn't check tourists", "you smoke?", "is mountain price", I hate the hassle in the north, so get on the bike and go.

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Take the N2 south again, now stopped for a phone call, not a bad way to work:

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I was quite happy to recognize a lot of it and to not need navigation for most of it, quickly got on the main road and went through hashish country, broken roads now more of my thing. Stopped for a drink of water and realized my bottle was lost, so instead ate a portuguese apple that came from the Algarve. It provided moisture and tasted great. Not a bad lunch.

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The roads here remembering me why I like to have rugged tires when coming to Morocco. Even if you do not plan on doing proper offroad, they provide your wheels with protection on my kind of roads:

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Pointed the bike to Fes, and again very happy to only look at the phone's navigation a couple of times. Recognized this area as I once spent an entire afternoon and evening stranded here with a non functioning R1150GS waiting for a tow truck.

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Made a wrong turn and did 20 or 30km more than I expected, but the small villages I rode through were nice and completely non touristy, no pictures of that though as I find stopping to take a picture of someone's front door very disrespectful, nobody likes feeling like they're on a zoo being watched by tourists, not sticking a camera in people's faces is the best way to not be treated like an idiot.

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I never drink Coca Cola at home, but here I do, temperatures went all the way to a surprising 29ºC and it felt great to stop a a countryside roadside shop for cold refreshment.

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Donkeys are cool, sadly most are tied down and left to graze with a 2 meter rope of two legs tied so they don't wander far.

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Stopped in Fes but didn't really feel like staying there, I needed somewhere new and a luxurious bed for a proper night's sleep. From Fes went on booking and booked a room in Sophia Village and Spa, an expensive place by the road from Fes to Ifran. I got there just before sunset, days in the end of November being MUCH shorter than I am used to when touring here. Also, from the 29ºC from before it went down to 4 or 5º during the night, it feels like 10 or 15º immediately drop as soon as the sun starts to go down.

I was happy to have the bike in a closed parking and finding a great comfy bed with a view waiting for me

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Had a proper hot shower, and went to dinner. The shower felt great and made me realize how exhausted I was from the previous days' stress. On the in house restaurant I challenged myself with their citron trout. It was interesting as I had seen people eat that before but never had it. It wasn't awful but I won't go for it again either.

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That night, a friday night, they had a party in the bar. It was a proper party too, with music and dancing, I was trying to sleep but the levels of music they were listening to making it very hard well into the night. I didn't know if to laugh or be upset, but eventually my comfy bed won over and I slept until sunrise. My plan was to get up early and have breakfast by 8 but it was 9:00 before I had my luggage packed and on the bike and sat down to the best breakfast pancake there is, "Msmen", eaten by hand with a smudge of honey or orange jam, that's the stuff.

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With a warm and happy stomach, I put my neck roll on and rode off to Ifran and Azrou, Ifrane or Ifran is a mountain town that you can easily mistake for an Austrian town if you stop and ignore the cars and people's skin color. It's houses, trees, streets, etc, resemble an Alpine location.

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Of course, rest assured you are in Morocco :classic_laugh:

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Riding around the royal palace I got lost and did it twice, by the second time the armed guards that stand every 50 or 100 meters were giving me weird looks and touching their automatic weapons, not the place to stop for a picture it seems, so I didn't.

Azrou went past and I stopped to visit the moneys there, right where I get off the N13 and into the Cedar Forrest. This time I wasn't happy to stop, I was the only tourist stopping, and having no bus full of retired older people the touts focused solely on me. I did manage to say hello to a few monkeys. Now this left a bitter sweet feeling, these monkeys are coached by people to provide a tourist attraction, they are kept around with treats being handed out, so they are no longer afraid of humans and will sit by you while being handed whatever you want, be it peanuts or pieces of fruit that the touts will happily sell to you, or whatever you bring.

Out of nowhere this cool monkey came and sat on my bike, and was happily munching on a few dried nuts, while the other bigger one on the ground wasn´t happy at all with the arrangement and snarled at the little guy, who in a panic jumped and knocked my helmet into the ground. I wasn't happy to see 350€ of Schuberth bouncing off some sharp looking rocks either :classic_dry:

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Monkeys, being monkeys, will happily snatch what food you have in your hands including all kinds of plastic and wrapper papers, it is quite apparent that nobody cleans that piece of forest either, as it's a mess of trash all around. This is a small area and as soon as you move 200 meters away suddenly there's no more people trying to sell you slices of banana to feed them or monkeys asking for food, but it did leave me with a sad feeling to how those little guys live.

I did manage to loose all my madeleines to these little guys, too, I'm a sucker for puppy eyes:

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Now, feeling disappointed from that moment with the monkey "handlers" I got off the N13 and onto proper roads. These were broken last time I was here, and since then they have been purely ignored, which along with the extreme weather they get here what you get is roads with plenty of character, you might think those are gravel roads but look again and you'll see remains of the tarmac that used to cover them completely not so long ago. The cedars are amazing trees to see too, and if you take the time to stop and look around you'll see that there's a healthy population of monkeys that are not trained of interested in tourists, instead they keep their distance and lazily munch of stuff they're constantly picking off the ground, no idea what. I was quite happy to see they couldn't give two fucks about me or the few cashews I munched on.

 

This is the P7217 through Ifrane National Park, my kind of road:

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Give the next picture a closer look and you'll see plenty of monkey business going on amongst the trees:

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Made a small detour to visit a special place, a lake that I have never seen with water on it:

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As I was contemplating and thinking of when I was there before with Maria and Rui, who has passed in 2018 from a suspected suicide, a herd of sheep casually roams towards me

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The shepherd is one of many bedouins who live in those mountains. They roam between higher altitudes in the summer and lower in the winter, they move "house" according to season in what seems like quite a hard life to lead, with very little comforts. He noticed I took a few pictures and came over to salute me and respectfully ask that I shoot none of him, making clear that I take pictures of anything I want except not himself. I don't really know why most Moroccans is adverse to pictures taken of themselves, but the fact is most are. 

We had a short conversation with neither understanding any of it, and he walked away to lead his flock away, one of his dogs, however, stuck by me clearly making sure I kept on my best behavior:

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And with that, I was off:

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What I did a few kms further on was quite silly, I spotted this immaculate dirt road leading away from the road I was on, checked on google maps and it led to somewhere called Hawaiian Waterfall! Being nowhere near the pacific this roused my interest and I decided to explore. It started quite amazing, for a short number of kms it was the dirt road that everyone dreams about, then it turned quite rocky, and then it started to turn quite steep and diving to the depths of that valley. It started getting steeper and steeper, and rockier. I was starting to not be too happy about that situation as the GS is quite a beast with a full tank of fuel, which it had. Turns out it was a fruitless enterprise, I got to 50 meters from the waterfalls supposed location but couldn't see anything except a dead end and a steep climb back to where I had come from. 

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I was huffing and puffing now, so turned the bike around, had a pee and took the previous picture, it obviously looks completely flat and almost motorway smooth, like you expect. Am quite happy to report that I rode up that trail with no stops in first or second gear, my clutch appreciated that and I felt quite good about it too.

About now, I stopped to take off my inner jacket, all the workout increased my temperature a bit, since it got so cold in the morning I had a thermal inner thing, a t-shirt, and the puff jacket under the vented jacket I wear, but it was now proving too much.

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Still the region of the great Cedar forest, I navigated through "P" roads towards Boumia. All around it must have been 60 or 70km of mostly gravel and dirt roads. Not trails, but roads, as those go through villages and houses and you get proper traffic on them.

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Now feeling even warmer, and since speeds weren't really high either, I stop and after a bit of drinking water and not listening to a soul, I decide to strip down and take my thermal shirt off, as I do so a school transport van filled with kids drives by. My being there topless was a source of great fun to them and they were both cheering and laughing at me :classic_laugh:

 

You're feeling hardcore when riding your rugged motorcycle on dirt roads, but then you're remembered that that's just a few small children's school route:

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Trying to keep myself entertained, I posed for a picture:

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After a bit of dusty roads, coming across this small river, I remembered I had already been there before on that exact route. in 2016 it was much more tarmac, I suppose that Covid negated most of maintenance, and while that road makes it as one of my favorites to ride my bike on, I do feel sorry for the people leaving alongside it, their street has turned from a tarmac road to a proper dusty dirt road over the years. In the winter weather it snows here, it must be quite the challenge to make do with coming and going when the average car isn't exactly a BMW GS. It was obviously a lot easier to ride this road without a passenger, too, and a lot harder at the same time.

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What came next, as I was properly enjoying my bike on a fast gravel road feeling like a motorcycling hero in fourth gear wrapping along, I exit the forest onto a valley of rocks and tiny bushes, but as I ride along all around me something very weird starts to happen and all the rocks and bushes suddenly move. They're not rocks at all but instead just a huge group of monkeys scattered along with valley probably grazing on whatever and warming up on the sunshine they can't get on the trees, it was a properly great moment. All that was lost and there was no way I would be fast enough to catch them on a picture, so instead rode to the end of the valley and stopped for a picture, mostly to have a register of where it was if I decide to go back.

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This is a pretty ignored part of Morocco as I think these roads look pretty mundane when you look at them on the map, plus they're away from the Desert so less appealing to tourists, to me they're amazing, and the Cedars are difficult to put into pictures:

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Sadly, all that's good comes to an end and I'm exiting the forrest, making my way to Boumia and Zaida, where I've already got my shelter for the night picked out. I'm also hungry as gave away all my snacks except a half dozen cashew nuts.

Goodbye forrest and hello Atlas... When you first see the first bit of the Atlas mountains in the distance they make you feel small. It doesn't translate into pictures either. Nice roads make progress suddenly fast, too, this was at 16:40 and I want to make it to Zaida before sunset:

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Got to Zaida and stop at a fruit stand for a couple of apples. Apples go in the luggage and I sit by the cafe next to it for something comforting in the form of food. This has become my favourite thing to eat in Morocco, and it's sardines... you take two opened and boneless small sardines and in between them put a mix of coriander and a spice paste, then shallow fry it, it's fucking amazing. You eat that inside bread with chopped tomatoes and onions, or using your fingers like a boss. I have no problem going full Moroccan and using my fingers and pieces of bread to scoop the salad. Moroccans dig that, too.

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After my late lunch, I am feeling like just sitting there and watching life go by as the sun sets, but can't, the hotel is 8 or 9km away and I don't want to get cold riding there, so go. I paid my bill of 24 dirhams for that plate, all the bread you can have and a coke and left.

Back on the road, now on a proper N road, as the magic hour starts:

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That night I was to stay in Ksar Timnay, it's a good location, safe parking, comfy bed, nice value where for 40 Euros worth of Dirhams you'll have a warm room with a proper hot shower, plus breakfast and dinner. I had stayed there before and will again for sure.

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As I unpacked and had my hot shower, outside it got dark and proper cold, after a while I made it to dinner and before 20:00 I had a hot meal in front of me. They cook everything, but having seen so many sheep, goats, chickens, though the day, all of them with babies following along, I went vegetarian and had a vegetable tagine. It was properly spicy and provided me with all the heat I needed, by the time I was done with it I had taken off my jacket :classic_laugh:

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That night I slept very well, complete silence, a comfy bed with heavy covers made me feel cozy and I slipped to deep sleep like it was nothing. It was proper cold outside, and tomorrow was going to be a proper riding day, I knew what was ahead.

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43 minutes ago, boboneleg said:

Pasta and chips (fries) on the same plate, how very British :rofl:

 

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It's a common thing in Morocco, not really the pasta and ships in the same dish but trying hard to please people of whom they know nothing of their taste, so end up being lost in their wish to please.

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I wondered whether to write about all of the stuff, or just post a more motorcycle ride with pictures thing, but I can't really separate one from the other, so I'll carry on with all of it. Thanks all for the comments.

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1 hour ago, Pedro said:

 

 He noticed I took a few pictures and came over to salute me and respectfully ask that I shoot none of him, making clear that I take pictures of anything I want except not himself. I don't really know why most Moroccans is adverse to pictures taken of themselves, but the fact is most are. 

We had the same in some places. I assumed it was the whole Moslem thing about only God can make anything in the image of man, it's not seemly for humans to do the same. The same reason you only get fancy patterns in Mosques, not images of God, saints or prophets. I recall getting annoyed with one of our group and telling him off  when I saw he was trying to take a photograph of a girl who wasn't comfortable with that and him offering her money.

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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:

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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:

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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.

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When there's no effort being made to translate road signs, you are on the right kind of roads

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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.

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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.

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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:

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Again, once upon a time all this was tarmac:

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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!

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While that was happening, Morocco was going on around me:

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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.

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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:

 

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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:

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My iPhone's camera doesn't translate the depth of the surrounding views:

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Again, I strike a pose, it felt silly but made me feel accompanied

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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.

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And just like that, it's over and returns to a normal Gorge road, with concrete oued crossings and village kids playing after school

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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:

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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

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

 

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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.

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56 minutes ago, yen_powell said:

I recall getting annoyed with one of our group and telling him off  when I saw he was trying to take a photograph of a girl who wasn't comfortable with that and him offering her money.

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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 :classic_laugh:

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.

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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.

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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.

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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!

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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.

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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 

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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

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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.

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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

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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:

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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.

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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.

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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 :classic_laugh:

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!

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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

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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...

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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.

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Lac Dayet Srij:

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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.

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Also did the tourist thing and learned how to tie a head cloth berber style

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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.

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How cool is this?

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that day I watched the sunset from the hotel, it was also spectacular but more of an emotional serene experience.

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Later on, dinner was meatball tagine, and it was fenomenal.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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:

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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 

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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.

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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:

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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The next day, I would ride off in the morning.

 

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11 hours ago, Pedro said:

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.

IMG_8507.thumb.jpeg.598b2260380c0b40cf40f17b605b1d65.jpeg

 

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:

IMG_8509.thumb.jpeg.d9f34db3ac3d0178d1cbd9265f608f91.jpeg

IMG_8511.thumb.jpeg.2ecdce14bd08674fe235bfac616c47eb.jpeg

 

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 

IMG_8512.thumb.jpeg.c9957a6d6b003fc709ebf8c60aa94c89.jpeg

IMG_8514.thumb.jpeg.9b65b43b5a2a56bb9c49939219363071.jpeg

 

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.

IMG_8519.thumb.jpeg.f9bb9552b73694b817871acc55f6d270.jpeg

IMG_8522.thumb.jpeg.d011a7f7f67e4781534b55cce6af717b.jpeg

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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:

IMG_8532.thumb.jpeg.9b094dc86b60619c25d8378646855259.jpeg

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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The next day, I would ride off in the morning.

 

What I will say is you might want to describe the deep puddle bit some more for Pete he has no concept of that.

Sounds like you had a great adventure Pedro 

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2 hours ago, boboneleg said:

Superb @Pedro , easily the best RR of the year on here  👍

 

This is just superb..............

 

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and this is a great photo, look at both of those smiles.............

 

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

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