10am ferry, 2hr check-in, so we're up early. At the port by 8am, where we sit at the head of the queue, and sit, and sit...
All the while cars in other lanes, pull up and are loaded straight away on other ferry timings. We are entertained briefly by the Guards Civilia car running over a cone, forcing them to stop and remove it. When they pass our way I move to protect the nearest cone, which they appreciate with a presumably funny remark in Spanish and a smile.
What appears to be a homeless man comes over with a fist full of photocopies demanding our passport number and two euros. We umm and ahh for a few seconds trying to work out whether he is actually a port official, while he writes down our registration numbers. After a couple more minutes of broken Spanish he gives up and moves to the car behind us. Everyone else dismisses his advances far more quickly. I guess that's the disadvantage of being the way too early green newbies at the head of the queue 🤦🏽
We wait.... Even the seagulls are bored. The sky is a nice shade of blue today, and oh, is that a pigeon with a dodgy leg. We wait...
The car park sweeper truck struggles to pick up a long piece of what looks like toilet paper, not quite working twice, but on the third attempt: yes, he scores! Cheers from the guys in the front row seats. We wait...
1007, we wait...
1050, our ship is in!
Passport stamped, provisions stocked and we install ourselves on a sofa.
Arriving in Tangier Med is not Tangier, it's 50km away. But that matters not to us as we're not going to Tangier. We take the non motorway route south through small towns and villages, much more interesting and enjoyable. It's a 5hr ride, so we try to make good progress before it gets dark. Two and a half hours in and we stop in a small town for cold drinks and an ice-cream. There's an argument and lots of shouting; it escalates into a mini brawl, but it's over almost as soon as it started as steam is let off.
The landscape is changeable. Near the coast, rocky and arrid, but as we've gone inland and climbed it's become greener and maybe a little cooler. Then we're into a plateau and it's dry again and reassembles Tuscany of all places. It's warm too, the heat is really hitting us face on - at least our gear is now fit for the conditions, but it's still a struggle to cope with the hot air.
More winding roads and now we're into a green area with trees and shrubs. We both notice a sweet smell in the air - later we think we know why, it's the hash harvest!
Along the road there are various places selling their wares, earthenware seems popular in the area; at speed I notice several tagine cooking pots, I wonder if they would survive the journey home?
The police are everywhere, when we're going into towns and when we're leaving, and at random points in between - the royal gendarmerie. They stop traffic for checks and wave us on. I whizz past one, a smidgen over the limit, but he seems not to care, but I should a little more.
Arriving in Moulay Idriss, our stop for the night, our first impression is awe at this dense collection of houses perched on a hill, and the town itself is even more intimate. We're met by a parking wallah, who will look after our bikes while they are parked, 50 dirhams.
He leads us to Dar Zerhoune, a guest house owned by Rose, a friend of Christopher's. An engineer by training, she tells us the fascinating story of her journey here and she the people she met along the path (she says, in her words, that we "are bat shit crazy!" for riding and running).
Originally from New Zealand, Rose worked in the UK and fell in love with Morocco when she first came. A series of chance meetings on the back of some life changes and here she is, queen of the palace, but still down to earth. She empowers the women who work for her as well providing the working donkeys (vocal during the day and night) and horses in the area with vetinery care, something that would have delighted my mum.
The hotel has a top floor terrace that overlooks the plains below and we enjoy the dramatic sunset from that vantage point.
Dinner is a delicious sizzling chicken tajine. Afterwards I follow the adhan to the mosque where there a big sign saying non Muslims not allowed. Apparently until relatively recently this whole town was closed to non Muslims, but it's now opening up; the mosque remains an exception.
It's surprising this town is not more well known, it's full of character and very picturesque. There are Roman ruins nearby, which is one pull for tourism plus the locals revere the mausoleum of a saint as a holy place. The town is bustling as I walk back, people are sitting around the town square chatting and enjoying life. There's a football match ongoing and many men are glued to the sets. Later that evening we hear big roar throughout the town - somebody must have scored!
I retire to write this blog, it's been a long day and I'm whacked out and probably forgotten many things I wanted to write about.
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