Gibraltar

After weeks of mostly French and Arabic it was strange for us to suddenly hear people speaking Spanish and English. Once landed in Algeciras we went straight for Gibraltar where we got to stay in a fabulous apartment overlooking the Marina, thanks to a friend of Rory's brother Chris. Lucky ducks aren't we. The same night we met up with the lovely Laura Guinnane. The first familiar face we had seen since Cote d'Ivoire. The well overdue lolz were had. 
   Unfortunately the next day I fell ill with a nasty stomach flu and was bed bound for a few days. No better place for it to happen though. At least we had a good place to stay and a well equipped kitchen for Rory to cook and care for me :)
   At first sign of me feeling better we went up on the rock with its fantastic views of Gibraltar, Spain and Morocco where we had come from only a few days earlier. It's slowly starting to sink in what an amazing journey we've had so far. Our leg muscles are obviously not accustomed to natural use anymore as we woke up with extremely sore muscles the next day from walking down all the way from the top of the rock to the city centre.
   We ended up staying a full week in Gibraltar, although not exactly planned it was probably a blessing in disguise and a much needed break. For us as much as for the bikes which got a full service at MC Pitstop. I even had them clean out my fuel tank and was later on told by the mechanic there was "mucho mierda" in it. The joys of buying fuel in Africa. Aaron, the owner of the garage really went out of his way trying to suit our time table and making sure all parts and especially the new tires were available. A nice, competent bunch. We highly recommend.

View from the apartment we got to stay in 

Rock of Gibraltar

Noisy bastards

Great hang out spot

Landing strip in the centre of the city with a road running through it. Never seen anything like it before.  

Moorish Castle 

What doesn't fit will be made to fit :)

Good Bye Africa

Headed for Marrakech, Casablanca and Rabat we were back on familiar territory and on our final stretch of Morocco and the African continent. We did a trip to Morocco in 2011 where we had fallen in love with the country. We were shocked at the amount of road rage and aggressiveness we came across, especially by women drivers with their toddlers in the back. The part we didn't miss about the cities. It reminded us of a few episodes we had experienced back in 2011. 
   We were lucky (or so we thought) to quickly find a small, quiet hotel in a good location with secure parking for the bikes. Wandering about the city centre was really enjoyable and we can't forget to mention our first dose of fast food at McDonald's in what seemed to have been forever. The weather was just perfect and a lot warmer than it had been along the coast. We were extremely tired by the time we had dinner and got back to the hotel. Although Agadir was meant to be a short break to recharge the batteries we both still felt pretty wrecked. You can imagine the disgruntled looks we gave each other at 11.30 pm when we woke up to the sound of 130 bpm of base or in other words loud, fast, banging music. It sounded like someone was playing hard house outside our room and it only got louder and louder. Rory reckons this is Karma for all the years of noise disturbances he has caused. We had to suffer through until 2 am. Very grumpy heads on us the next day as you can imagine. Turned out we had booked ourselves into a hotel adjacent to a club (which the hotel staff of course never mentioned). 
   After another and finally good night in Kenitra we eventually arrived at the new Mediterranean Port in Tangier. The level of excitement about getting back onto European soil and the next few weeks of exploring and meeting up with friends along the way was huge. Luckily, nobody cared about the missing half of my number plate. We got through all the formalities of leaving the Morocco without hassle and only a few hours later - the bikes secured in the lower deck - we were on the ferry en route to Algeciras, Spain.
  To summarise our thoughts about the African part of our journey we would have to say that it has been extremely challenging on many different levels.  Our only disappointment was the relatively high percentage of paved roads on our route. We had hoped for more dirt tracks but then, we would have also needed more time to experience same. All in all, it has been one hell of a ride. Now bring it on Europe :)

All that fresh air is no good for ya. Constantly tired:)

Journey to Agadir

The next few days would bring us through the towns of Boujdour, Laayoune and Guelmin to Agadir where we planned to stay a couple nights. 

   On one of the usual police checks on entering the town of Boujdour we had a bit of craic with the police. The officers were interested in our journey and told us only a short while earlier a group of 4 bikers from France and Italy had passed through. While the officers were busy taking our details down a milk truck was stopped. The driver instantly handed us 2 chilled milk cartons as a gift - just like that.  

   Boujdour could easily win a tidy town contest. It's very neat and inviting. Looking for a place to eat it didn't take us long to bump into the group of bikers the police had told us about earlier. Kind of strange so far into the journey these were the first bikers we met. They were a nice bunch, all riding big 1200's and giving out about the weight of them as they normally are all light Enduro riders. One of the guys after inspecting our bikes turned to me asking "… and your bike? What was it before?". It got the group chuckling and I suppose it's a fair question (especially since Rory took Suzi for a wash in Dakar and accidentally got rid of all the stickers with the power hose). They eventually moved on, we had our meal and found ourselves a camping ground in the town near the ocean (and going by the occasional smell of death probably also near a dumpster). The camping place was very quiet with only a 74 year old French man perched in the corner with his very impressive kitted Land Rover Defender. We didn't get his name (shame on us) but we were quite entertained by his spirit and enthusiasm and the stories he had to tell. He was also eager to help us out with goods from his stash such as steel tent pegs and a tarp to provide more shelter from the wind. 

   Having proudly managed to pitch our tent on bed rock covered with a shaking of sand (thanks to the aid of the French man) and despite the usual relentless Atlantic breeze we cozied up in our sleeping bags. What promised to be a relaxing night was interrupted by the Portuguese 4x4 mafia and the endless chatter that followed at around 1 am. There was no sleeping for a while after that. 

   We met a pair of brothers from England - Simon and Adam Milward - who are promoting the use of solar power with a clever way of raising awareness of what is possible with renewable energy. One of the brothers - Simon - is riding a solar powered bike to Mauritania (or maybe to South Africa yet :) ) while the other is following in a van. They average up to 150 km/h per day. We are very impressed with their  cause. Have a look at their website for more details: http://www.aktfoundation.org.

   We were too tired to fully appreciate and report about Laayoune other than the usual gorging on Chawarma's and Rory's quest of hunting down the best Patisserie in town before hitting the sack. When packing the bikes the following morning we noticed my number plate had cracked into 2 halves from the vibrations and the winds. We slashed a bit of good old duct tape on and didn't pay any more attention to it. Having a coffee break in Tarfaya we then noticed I had lost one half of my number plate. Oops! Hopefully this will not cause us any hassle leaving Morocco.

   We were supposed to have our next stop over in Tan-Tan. On arrival and riding through the town we got a very bad, almost hostile vibe about the place. To give you an example, while simply riding along the main road a group of 3 teenagers on the side walk instantly made angry gestures such as showing us the middle finger and spitting. Not a place we wanted to put our head down for the night. We trucked on to Guelmin instead which proved to be a much better choice.

   The 200 km ride to Agadir the next day was by far the most unenjoyable of the entire trip. The winds were ruthless and so incredibly strong, there were many occasions where both our bikes were at a felt 60 degree angle to the road. We were constantly fighting the wind and because we were at 1200 meters altitude we were tense and freezing cold. It's a shame because we didn't get to enjoy the mountaineous roads and views fully. 

   Agadir on the other hand was a surprise. Although  personally I would never want to go there at peak season I was surprised with the place. It's actually a nice spot and because it was relatively quiet in terms of tourism strolling through the streets was pleasant and none of the shop owners and handlers were hassling us to buy their stuff. We enjoyed being off the bikes for a couple days but equally enjoyed getting back on them feeling recharged.

  

Man at work

Surrounded by the Portuguese 4x4 Mafia

I know which side I'd choose to sleep on...

Simon Milward - AKT Foundation

Simone and Adam Milward

Western Sahara

Leaving Nouadhibo we were now headed for Morocco. Once we had crossed the Mauritanian border we were officially in "Nomansland" - an area between the Mauritanian and Moroccan border, that due to an age-old and ongoing debate about who owns Western Sahara is completely neglected. It's a rocky over pass littered with tires and old, wrecked out cars. Another scene out of Mad Max ;-) 

   Once officially on Moroccan soil we were back on paved roads and had one of the most relaxing and enjoyable days of the trip on the bikes. The route is hugging the coast all the way with amazing views of the ocean and impressive cliffs. The landscape is otherwise very dry, flat, a mix of rock and sand, with the occasional bit of green dotted here and there. A beauty only Connemara can compete with :)

   We had best intentions to find a nice, sheltered spot to pitch our tent and enjoy the surroundings. But as we rode on we didn't see anything that would have offered enough shelter and the winds were just too strong. Our tent would have probably blown into the ocean (with or without us).

   Having a look at the map we thought we might have more luck if we got to the next village of Imily which turned out to be like a newly developed housing estate in Ireland - empty! The community of Imily is fully developed with houses, shops, street lighting, paths even Moroccon flags on top of the government buildings. Yet, no one lives there - except for a bunch of wild dogs that appeared out of nowhere (they looked hungry too). It gave us an eery feeling and we quickly abandoned our plan of camping there and decided to keep going to next village on the map - El Argoub.

   In the meantime we were distracted with one of the most majestic sunsets we both have ever seen. Breathtaking! 

   The first estate we encountered in El Argoub looked exactly like Imily, only this time we saw 2 guys in military uniform outside a house busy with detangling the line of a fishing rod. We pulled in and asked politely if it was ok if we camped in the near vicinity. We were ignored at first so we asked again thinking they mightn't have any English and than one of the guys said in perfect English "no, not here" and not a word more. It was about 8 pm already and getting dark quickly. 

   We didn't waste any time lingering around and moved on. The next settlement - still part of El Argoub - looked friendlier but also here we were told we wouldn't be able to camp as the whole area is a military zone. That at least explaines Imily -  we presume it's all built for military personnel. 

   At little disheartened we trucked on. It was dark by now. A few kilometres outside of El Argoub and the last building for another 40 km we saw a petrol station. As a last resort we stopped. The owner and a bunch of men where watching soccer (Dortmund kicked AC Milano's arse). A little confused but more than willing to help out the owner showed us around the back of the building where we could camp. He must have felt sorry for us having to pitch a tent so late and with the wind blowing so high - or this was an epic example of Moroccan hospitality as he went on to show Rory a simple room with 2 mattresses and insisted we should rather sleep there. He wouldn't accept any money and our suspicion that he had given up his own room was confirmed the next morning when we saw him coming out of an office, with a small sofa inside that he must have slept on. 

   Next thing a truck delivering bread stops and when the driver spots Rory he immediately hands him 2 loafs of fresh bread for free. What amazing gestures and what a great country!

Heading to the Moroccon border

Nomansland - everybody's dumpster :-/ 

Next best thing to camping in the open :)

Equally stunning sunrise