I took one of the A roads passing through loads of towns, which allowed me to see even more of the thriving and sometime run down region that forms this part of the Anti Atlas. In Agadir, I had no luck finding tyres and was told to go to Marrakesh. So I did.
That was a long ride across lots of open plains after crossing the Anti Atlas. I crossed a couple of passes, all the time with the High Atlas overshadowing the route. The new motorway/peage runs alongside for a lot of the time, but there was still more traffic on the A road.
Speed cameras seem to have become a thing too. Gendarmerie lurking in trees to catch unwary motorists with more stealth taxes. Morocco is moving up in the world financially if it can afford to charge its population for these kinds of infractions.
Once in Marrakesh, I headed to my old haunt, the Hotel Foucould right next to Jamaa el Fenaa market square and the Koutubia. Probably the most photographed Muslim minaret around. I do have an affinity for that building for some reason. It is very eye catching and intricate in its stone work.
It was 6pm when I got to Marrakesh, so dinner time. After checking in and paying to have my bike parked in a secure compound for the night, I headed out into the mad rush that is the Square. Dinner was in a local cafe I've been to before with some Berber friends, then it was bed time as I was really tired again.
I checked out around 9am the next morning, heading to a tyre place. I'd forgotten though that it was a Sunday, so it was closed. That set me off, I knew Casablanca had a KTM place, so decided to head there via Safi on the coast. Never been to either, so something new again. The ride to Safi was around 100km on busy A roads and across miles of flat desert sections. Once there, I turned north along the coast road to Casablanca. I hadn't really looked at a map, so the distance between the two caught me by surprise.
The coastline between the two starts out lovely, with huge limestone cliffs giving way to long beaches and then lagoons. After this it turns into a town by town journey and is not very pretty. Once in Casablanca, I found two bike shops, but of course, Sunday, both were closed.
I stopped at a McDonald's there to use their WIFI and had fish burgers. I was amazed at how westernised the people were, but especially the women, Some really beautiful ladies were around with their kids, families, partners etc, but very few with headscarf's or traditional Muslim garb etc. As I was leaving a young guy approached me for some help. His scooter wouldn't start. His English and French were impeccable. His mechanics however, less so. The earth lead had come off, so the bike wouldn't start. We sorted this and I then left.
In my head now, I just wanted to head to Spain. So I jumped on the Peage and headed north. 3 hours was the Google Maps time, it took 5.5 hours and I arrived after 12am and on fumes for the bike. Stupidly, I'd ridden past the last fuel stop when the reserve light came on as I thought I'd make it and fill up in Tangier Med. No chance, there is no fuel there!
I ended up heading uphill past the ferry port, retracing my arrival steps as I knew there was a fuel stop, but I had no idea how far. Into a strong headwind, I ran out of fuel almost at the top of the hill. Out came the 1 litre fuel container for the stove, I had 0.5 ltr left. That got me to a fuel station. Next error. I only had 60 Dirhams in my wallet, the rest was in my bags. So whilst the attendant grumbled about having to get out of his warm room to put fuel in my bike, I forgot to turn off the electrics. Once he'd gone, the bike was dead. I thought I could bump start it on the steep descent. No chance, so I carried on rolling downhill until the next garage. I stripped off the bags, sheepskin etc and checked the battery. 2 bars left and not enough to start the bike. I asked at the garage for someone with jump leads and got a local lad who turned out to be the local mechanic. He jump started the bike and whilst chatting, found out I had nowhere to stay as yet and offered for me to stay in his garage. Sorted for the night.
The next morning was wet and very windy. I packed up, left Messi with a huge thanks, he wouldn't accept any payment at all. Dropped to the road to Ceuta and had a weird breakfast of pancake topped in peanut butter which I'd ordered thinking it was a honey topping! Then through the customs and onto a ferry. The crossing was very bouncy, a few people weren't looking so good by the time we arrived. Once back in Spain, I went to two bike shops and eventually found KTM garage, who fitted me two new shiny Michelin tyres for 190 euros. Now it was riding time. Find the TET again, which I did. Navigation with a phone though is exhausting. Especially as I had nowhere to mount it. I ended up lost in some cork woods just outside of Gaucin. So decided to camp and sort it out in the morning.
