Day 15 - Saturday 11 May, Gibraltar to Mehdya, Near Kenitra, Morocco
After a noisy night - especially the street cleaning maching at about 6am - we got up and dressed without bothering about breakfast. We were worried about the bikes getting a ticket or being towed away and wanted to make an early start to avoid any potential problems. In the event the bikes were OK so we ran them back to the hotel, loaded up and headed out. I was all for just heading back the way we came but Badger wanted a quick tour of the rock, which only took about 20 minutes or so. I was struck by how small and cramped everything was - after nearly 10 years in the Scottish Borders I like plenty of space and you don't find much of that in Gib. Quite a few of the roads are tunneled out of the rock itself and look pretty ancient, the whole place reeks of British Military history. We stopped for piccies at Europa Point - this proclaims itself "The most southerly spot in mainland Europe". I wanted to fill up in Gibraltar as petrol is pretty cheap there, but we were crossing the airport runway and into border checks before we knew it.
Loading Up in Gibraltar
Loading Up in Gibraltar
Badger at Europa Point
The Straits of Gibraltar
Part of the Rock
The Straits of Gibraltar
As it was still pretty early we cleared customs and immigration in seconds and headed off for the motorway to Algeciras and the ferry. We stopped at the first motorway services for breakfast and to fill the bikes up. I felt quite relieved to be back in Spain proper. It didn't seem to take very long before we were at Algeciras following the signs for the ferry to Ceuta. I'd seen loads of offices selling ferry tickets at all the motorway services between Gibraltar and Algeciras and had wondered why - I was soon to find out.
As we got to the ferry terminal I spotted a sign for the ticket office but someone had flagged Badger down to go straight into the ferry queue. The guy motioned for Badger to follow him to get tickets. I had very bad feelings about this but foolishly let Badger proceed. Needless to say these guys were touts and Chris ended up paying €85.00 for tickets that only cost €57.00. I also got approached by a very pissed Irish bloke who did the have you got a fag? no. Have you got the money for some fags? routine. Both Badger and I got conned out of a couple of Euros each.
We were joined in the queue by a couple of German guys on off-road bikes who were also going to Morocco - they got conned too. It didn't take long to get on the ferry and it was off to Ceuta on what should have been a fast 35min crossing. In the event the crossing took a lot longer as the straits were covered in mist and visibility was down to a few hundred yards even though we were in bright sunlight.
Algeciras Ferry Terminal
Relaxing on the Ferry
A Misty Straits of Gibraltar
We got into Ceuta and just drove through customs - weird! Then I remembered that we were still in Spain - so we started looking for the Moroccan border crosssing. This was not that well sign-posted and we got lost but a local on a scooter led us to the Border Post. The Ceuta side didn't look too bad - there were basically just a few money-changers hanging around, but the Moroccan side looked chaotic - to say the least! Badger changed some Euros into Moroccan Dhirams, I held back, firstly because I wasn't sure if I would get a good deal and secondly I wanted to just withdraw Dirhams from a cash machine using my debit card.
The Ceuta Side of the Border Crossing
The Ceuta Side of the Border Crossing
The Ceuta Side of the Border Crossing
Once Badger had changed his cash we crossed the Spanish part of the border post and headed into the chaos of the Moroccan zone. We were immediately flagged down by guys wearing dishdashes. Basically crossing into Morocco is a 3-part process. You have to fill in a form and get your passport stamped, you have to fill in another form and get a stamped form for your vehicle, you then have to cross into Morocco itself. There are a whole bunch of Moroccans who make their living assisting you in this process. They have blank forms, which they fill in the forms on your behalf. We had been warned about this and as the whole crossing area is so chaotic with cars and people everywhere we just went along with it, however what we should have done is to negotiate any fee or tip in advance, which we did not do. In reality it isn't really that difficult a process and you don't really need their services, you end up queueing and presenting your own documents anyway, which felt weird. In the event we just went along with the flow and gave them a tip of a few euros and crossed over into Morocco. Once you are in Morocco you then have to sort out your insurance, I had had to pay for additional insurance to cover Morocco and had received a "Green Card" for Morocco - our "guide" was satisfied that was all I needed. Badger's insurance gave him full cover in Morocco anyway, but he hadn't requested a "Green Card" and ended up paying for very expensive Moroccan insurance, which is available on the Moroccan side of the crossing.
The Moroccan Side of the Border Crossing
The Moroccan Side of the Border Crossing
Badger (and "Guide") Buying Some Very Expensive Insurance
Badger got ticked off by the Border Police when attempting to video the border crossing, luckily I had already grabbed a few snaps. Once the insurance was sorted out and we had paid off our "Guides", we both breathed a huge sigh of relief as we were able to head off into Morocco and leave the chaos of the crossing behind us. Badger's plan was to ride down the West side of Morocco then head south to Ouarzazate and the Kasbah Ait Ben Moro hotel, which he had seen on a TV show when holidaying in Sri Lanka and which was his initial inspiration for the trip. He hoped to spend a couple of days at the hotel then head back up on the East side to make a circular trip of 6-7 days.
We had been warned that Moroccan roads could be a bit dodgy and that one particular problem was lorries overfilling their tanks and spilling diesel on bends and round-abouts, so it was with some trepidation that we turned right at the first roundabout to take the road across the top of Morocco towards Tangier. As soon as we exited the roundabout the road was covered in gravel, which was a bit off-putting fortunately it seemed that it was just that corner was dodgy, with big trucks spreading gravel over the exit and first bend. The road turned out to be reasonably decent, however there were plenty of bumps and pot-holes to look out for and the side of the road was often very dodgy, but nothing dangerous. As soo as we crested the first hill we stopped to take some piccies. Badger went off for a little wander with his camcorder whilst I stayed with the bikes and took a few piccies. The place felt very similar to the terrain we had encountered outside Estepona.
Our First Picture Halt in Morocco
Due to our concern with the road quality we kept out speeds well down to legal limits and it was a good job we did. We'd only gone a few kilometres when we passed motorcycle Police in very smart white uniforms with a radar gun just waiting to fine any speeding offenders. This was a site that was to be constantly repeated throughout most of our trip in Morocco. We soon crossed over to the Western - Atlantic - Coast and got onto the A1 motorway. Just like the national roads, this featured regular police speed traps so we stuck religiously to the speed limit. We didn't go into the old City of Tangier but went past the Modern Port and a huge new Renault car plant. Afer about an hour and half we pulled into the motorway services outside Asilah and stopped to fill up and have out first Moroccan lunch. This turned out to be a pleasant but slightly disappointing experience. I had a tagine and it turned out to be OK but no more than that. I put this down to being a motorway services, but it other tagines I tried were only so-so as well. The Moroccan flat-breads were fantastic so that made up for it a little bit.
Motorway Service Station outside Asilah
After lunch we filled up and headed South. We stuck to the motorway, which was pretty decent. By now we had left the hills behind us and were in much flatter terrain. It was obvious that we were in a non-European country. Northern Morocco is very green and fertile and feels almost medieval. The fields are predominantly small strips and worked by hand. There are tractors and farm machinery, but what we saw was all much smaller and older than the massive agri-business stuff you see in Europe. Everywhere you look there are horses, donkeys, mules and lots of people in the fields. The other immediately obvious feature is that Moroccans live their lives by the roadside - even on the motorways you see people and animals crossing the road and walking or waiting by he roadside. There is not the same feeling of alienation you get with motorways in Europe, there are people at the side of the road and they will waive to you - and in the case of some kids pretend to shoot you!
As we were riding along the motorway I was following Badger when a plastic bag suddenly ballooned from his rucksack and disappeared into the distance behind us. I could see his all documentation and was terrified he lost that too, in particular his stamped vehicle form, without which there was no way he could get out of the country. So I started flashing him and beeping my horn furiously - no response. I accelerated and drove up right next to him and kept beeping - he was miles away as usual and in the end I had to drive in front of him and virtually force him onto the hard shoulder. "Why didn't you flash or beep me?" he asked - "AAARRGH!" was all that came out! Fortunately for him the only thing that he had lost was an empty plastic bag, but we agreed that if anything similar happened the other one should immediately get in front of the other.
By late afternoon we had put another 100 or so miles on the clock and pulled into another service station. I had my first mint tea - or "Moroccan Scotch" as it's known by some - it's extremely refreshing and could get quite addictive in a hot climate. In the service station we bumped into a local with perfect english and ended up having a chat about football - there was a local game on the TV. Suitably refreshed we got back onto the Motorway having decided to get off at Kenitra and head to the coast to look for a hotel.
We had to drive through Kenitra, which is a quite large town and this was definitely an interesting experience. Apart from stopping for red lights it seemed total chaos. There were all sorts of pedestrians, animals and vehicles on the road, donkey carts, tractors, 3-wheeled trucks, conventional trucks and loads of old Mercedes and a few modern french cars. The 3-wheeled trucks were pretty popular - looking like a cross between a trike and a pickup, they looked locally made and pretty slow, but I guess pretty handy for moving people and goods. I was struck by just how many people were walking or waiting along the roadside. There seemed to be vehicles stopping to let people on or off all the time and whilst it seemed pretty chaotic it always seemed good-natured and not in the least frantic. The other thing that struck me was how polluted it was - not many of the vehicles would have passed the UK emission tests. Badger was, as ever, in charge of navigation and eventually got us to the coast by late evening.
We were now in Mehdya, which is apparently the trendy resort for many Moroccans. Mehdya starts in the North at the mouth of the local river and there is a big fishing port and fish processing plant, which was changing shifts as we went past. As we followed the coast road south towards the beaches we stopped outside the ruins of the Kasbah to take pictures and ask about hotels. We met an old guy on a push-bike out with his grand-daughter, who told us just to drive into the resort area and ask about hiring a house for the night rather than a hotel - he reckoned the going price was about 200 dhirams - less than £20.00. We drove a couple of kilometers into the resort area and asked at the local taxi stand, which seemed to be the centre of things. Various people were summoned and eventually we were lead to a bungalow just round the corner. It seemed OK, but the guy wanted 600 dhirams, we settled on 500, we were too tired to argue or look elsewhere so unloaded the bikes and got changed. The guy lived in the capital - Rabat about 30 miles down the road, this was his weekend place so having appointed a local waiter to look after us he returned to Rabat with his family.
The Ruins of the Kasbah at Mehdya
Badger was getting concerned that I was knackered - my shoulders by now were really sore and suggested that we chill out in Mehdya for a few days. He reckoned that going down to Ouarzazate was not practical - it would simply take too long and was rethinking the Moroccan leg of trip. I suggested we go for dinner and think about it on a full stomach. We went to the fish restaurant where the guy looking after us worked and had supper. I don't know if it was early in the evening, but we were the only ones in the restaurant. The food was pretty good, but there was just too much of it - it was pretty cheap too. We went back to the house and decided to sleep upon it.
Negotiating a House for the Night
Mehdya in the Evening
Fish for Supper
Day Summary
| Day - | 15 |
| Miles Covered in Day | 170 approx. |
| Miles Covered in Trip | 2500 approx. |
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