The ferry across the Straits of Gibraltar was quick.  45 minutes after loading I rode off the boat and into Cueta.  Cueta is technically a Spanish city even though it's surrounded by Morocco and the sea, but it's on the African continent so I was now riding on another continent - the 4th continent I've ridden this trip and the first time ever that I've ridden in Africa.

I topped up on gasoline in Cueta since it's tax free and very cheap - about $.75 a liter.  After that I headed a few miles to the Moroccan border where I had to fill out a yellow card and a green card and buy motorcycle insurance.  All the time at the border I was continually hounded by guides trying to sell me everything from tours to kif (Moroccan marijuana or hash).  These touts were just a small sample of what I was to find in the rest of Morocco!

The border formalities took a couple of hours, but that time was made up for by the two hours I gained crossing from Spain into Morocco.  I have to remember that I'll lose those two hours when I cross back into Spain.

Over the next couple of days I worked my way down the west coast of Morocco, winding between the coast mountains and the beaches.  The ocean was spectacular with huge breakers crashing on the rocks and long stretches of empty beaches.  I spent a couple of days in the coastal city of Rabat to see the Medina, buy some books, and enjoy the relaxed atmosphere.  At the town of Eaussouri I had a hotel room facing out over the beach and onto the bay full of windsurfers and paragliders.  I imagined hanging out there for a while, but I was anxious to ride in the Atlas mountains.

During these first few days I got a crash course in Moroccan salesmanship.  My first day in the country as I pulled into the city of Teotuan a local rode up beside me on a motorcycle and wanted to talk about where I was from and about my trip.  I was naturally guarded as I've found that almost no one is simply friendly - they all want money or to sell me something.  So I asked this gentleman up front what his intentions were.  He assured me that he only wanted to practice his English and hear about my trip.  Just to be clear, I told him right there that I didn't need a guide and I wouldn't pay him anything for his company.  Of course he assured me that he was not a guide and didn't want any money.  We walked around the Medina a bit, and of course when we finished he asked me for money for showing me around.  I reminded him, sounding as incredulous as I could (though I expected this all along), that we had both agreed there would be no payment.  Still he wanted money for his services and he acted quite hurt that I refused.  I finally said goodbye and left him.

And that was just the start of my lessons that day.  On the same day, my "guide" wanted to show me his friend's carpet shop.  The owner told me repeatedly "buy, no buy, no problem".  So I let him show me some of his carpets.  The rugs were beautiful and I enjoy seeing the different patterns and colors.  However, I told him early on that I would look at his carpets, but I could not buy any today.  I like to make my intentions clear up front so that there are no misunderstandings later on.  When this salesman found out that I wasn't going to buy his carpets he became abusive, telling me that I was cheap and wasn't worthy of his carpets, and at one point physically restraining me from leaving his shop.  At that point I said goodbye, asked him to take his hands off me, and walked out.  I had several experiences like this during my time in Morocco.  I find it a strange kind of sales technique, but perhaps it's effective for Moroccans!

I left the coast and headed inland into the mountains.  Almost immediately the scenery went from tropical to rocky desert and mountain.  I began to climb into the dark gray hills.  As I was riding I couldn't believe my eyes as I saw a goat in the lower branches of a tree.  I laughed at these crazy Moroccan goats.  And then as rode further, I saw more goats in the lower branches of trees, and then they were higher in the trees, until I saw one tree full of goats, with some even balancing on the highest branches of the tree!  As I stopped to take a picture, several goats jumped from the branches 12 feet to the ground!  Apparently these were incredible Moroccan tree-climbing goats :-)

As I got further into the mountains I left the big cities behind and passed through many small walled towns.  These ancient walled towns are called Medinas and were built by the Arabs, some as early as the 9th century.  The Medina walls have a very different shape and color than the walls I saw surrounding the old European cities.  Medina walls are reddish or tan and lower than the European walls.  Each town has one or more old walled cities which enclose the markets and old homes.  It's fascinating to wander through these Medinas and realize that you're walking in a town that has changed little from medieval times.

It was here in the lower Atlas mountains that I tried a little offroad riding.  I had selected a few dirt pistes that sounded scenic and easy, and that would allow me to get off the main roads and see some of the more remote areas of the desert.  I was surprised to find that the remote pistes were not very much different than the main roads in that part of Morocco - everything is remote there!  But I did manage to get myself into the middle of a couple of huge open valleys surrounded by rocky mountains.  At places in these huge valleys I could see no sign of civilization - no people, towns, or roads other than the thin dirt track I was on.  The dirt road was not too difficult, but it was tiring with my heavy bike, and it was a little intimidating to be alone and so far from anywhere.  Since the scenery wasn't too different from the (barely) paved roads, I decided to limit my offroad exploring in Morocco.

I worked my way on dirt and paved roads to the southern most point I would reach in Morocco.  The desert town of M'Hamed is only 40 kms from the Algerian border and is surrounded by palm trees and huge sand dunes.  I felt like I was truly in the Sahara Desert when I saw huge 200 foot dunes towering above.  I visited similar dunes at Tinfour and Merzouga.  At Merzouga I stayed at a small hostel that backed right to the dunes.  I enjoyed sitting in the dunes during sunset and sunrise to watch the color of the dunes change from yellow to orange to red.  It was a serene experience under the clear desert sky.  Later that evening I had dinner with the Berber guys that run the hostel and their friends - traditional Moroccan vegetable soup, Berber pizza (flat dough with tomatoes and onions baked inside), and sweet dates.  After dinner we talked (they talked mostly in French and I smiled and nodded a lot!) and they played Berber drums while chanting and partaking in some (in)famous Moroccan kif.  It was a fun and authentic Moroccan desert experience.

Of course, in the sand dunes you find camels, and I saw plenty of them.  Wild camels crossing or foraging beside the road, and tame camels used for tourist rides.  I even took a short ride on a camel, but I find camels to be a little disconcerting - so high off the ground and no brakes!  I climbed off the camel and gratefully got back on my bike.

From Merzouga I rode north to the town of Tinerhir and the mouth of the Todra Gorge.  This narrow deep gorge was cut through the rocky mountains by a crystal clear stream.  I parked my bike and took a 3 hour hike up to the top of the walls where I could look down into the gorge and out over the plains.  At several points on my hike I had to scramble off the trail to let mule trains pass.

Even here in the gorge I had to deal with Moroccan touts.  As I parked my bike I was approached by several locals who wanted to sell me their guiding services.  I told them I preferred to hike alone as the trail was not that difficult to follow.  Then they wanted to sell me rugs or jewelry or kif.  I told them no thanks.  As I was starting on my hike they told me that it wasn't safe to park my bike in this lot, and that I must park a few hundred meters down the gorge in their hotel parking lot.  They assured me that parking in the hotel lot was free and my bike would be safe there (right - and even more salesman to deal with!).  When I told them that I thought my bike would be perfectly safe in this lot, they said that I would be sorry for parking here and any problems would be my own fault.  I took this as a mildly veiled threat and was not too pleased.  I worried about my bike for much of the hike but I resolved not to let their threats ruin my day, and there were no problems when I returned to the bike.  Once again it was just another example of Moroccan salesmanship!

It was here in the Middle Atlas mountains that I had a less pleasant experience with nature.  Late one afternoon I rode into the middle of a locust swarm.  These locust are giant grasshoppers - about 3-4 inches long - and their wingspan is about 8 inches across!  In flight they look more like small birds than insects.  For several miles I noticed a few locust springing up off the pavement as I rode by.  I would duck and they would fly by, or sometimes splatter on my bike or on my helmet with a loud bang.  But as I went further the entire road was covered with locust, and the sky above was black with the swarm!  I ducked down behind my small windshield, but still the locust were splattering against my bike, legs, arms, and helmet.  After several miles the swarm began to lessen and I pulled over to inspect the damage.  There were dead and dying locust all over my bike - crawling on the engine and in the spokes and windshield.  I checked inside my coat and shirt to make sure none had flown in there, but thankfully I found none crawling around on my skin.  But my pants and jacket and bike were covered in locust guts - not a pretty sight, and there was nothing I could do out here in the desert.  I knocked off as many locusts as I could and climbed back on my bug guts-covered bike to continue on.

I had entered Morocco at the very start of the holy holiday of Ramadan when Muslims fast for 30 days during daylight hours.  They are not allowed to eat or drink or smoke anything between sunrise and sunset.  At first I thought this timing was rather unfortunate because many cafes and shops were closed during the day, and even the ones that were open during the day weren't necessarily serving food.  Out of respect for their holiday, I refrained from openly eating or drinking during the day.  So I often skipped lunch, instead discreetly snacking on nuts and dried fruit until supper time.  And what a strange experience it was at sunset!  During the day everything in the cities and towns would be busy with the hustle and bustle of noisy traffic, honking horns, and people shouting and rushing by.  But at 5:30 when Ramadan was over for the day, the entire city went quite - not a car on the street, no horns, nor even a single person in sight!  Everyone was inside breaking their fast.  What a peaceful hour.  But by 6:30 breakfast was over, and everyone was back out on the streets.

I struggled finding vegetarian food when I first entered Morocco.  It took me a few days to figure out the kinds of things I could eat.  For breakfast I had the typical flat bread with butter and jam, yogurt, and mint tea or hot chocolate (I've given up caffeine because of my recurring heart palpitations).  Then I discovered that Moroccans eat a vegetable soup in the evenings during Ramadan.  The soup was excellent and I had some almost every evening.  I also found that there were plenty of salads - mixed salads, tomato salads, and even couscous salads.  And I was able to get vegetarian versions of the traditional tajine - a casserole-like dish with all kinds of local vegetables (one tajine I had contained 12 different vegetables including potato, sweet potato, turnip, string beans, lima beans, peas, and other vegetables that I couldn't identify, but still enjoyed).  So other than not eating many lunches in Morocco, I ate well and thoroughly enjoyed the food.

I continued north from the gorge to the city of Fes.  Fes used to be the capital of Morocco and is still seen as its cultural capital.  In the city I took a guided tour of Morocco's oldest and biggest Medina dating from the ninth century.  The Medina is huge, with hundreds of narrow twisting, crowded streets.  I was glad to have the guide as I would have been lost in a minute on my own.  We saw palaces and houses of wealthy merchants, beautifully decorated fountains, mosaics, and mosques.  This Medina was definitely more beautiful than any of the others I'd seen in Morocco.

When my official guide showed up that morning I explicitly agreed with him on a price for his services - a price that was 25% higher than that quoted in the latest Lonely Planet guidebook.  Of course, when my tour was over my guide wanted 33% above what we had agreed on!  I reminded him that we had agreed on a price and that I expected him to respect our agreement.  He told me that the extra money wouldn't matter to me and that he had children and that I should be compassionate.  He pleaded for a while until I thanked him for his services and paid him the amount we had agreed on.  As I walked away I wondered what he would have thought if at the end of the tour I said I didn't want to pay him the amount we had agreed on, and would only give him 66% of that amount!

One of the treats of riding in Morocco are the excited children who love motorcycles.  For the 3 months I rode in Europe I was just another motorcyclist and no one took any notice of me.  But here in Morocco a rider on a big bike like mine is a novelty.  As I rode through the towns the children (and even some adults) would smile and wave and give me the thumbs up, sometimes shouting at the top of their lungs.  It was fun to see such enthusiasm again and I always smiled and waved back.

Near the end of my time in Morocco I stopped for a couple of days in Chefchaouen, a quiet and laid back city high in the mountains.  This city is famous for the kif grown in the mountains (perhaps that's why it's so laid back) but it was peaceful and green and I enjoyed hiking in the hills around the town.  It also has its own small Medina and I got one last feel for the Medina before I left the country.

After almost 20 days in Morocco I returned to Cueta to take the ferry back to the continent.  I was sorry to leave the beauty and adventure of Morocco.  As Moroccans are fond of saying, Morocco has it all - beaches, mountains, and desert and I enjoyed my little taste of this country.  But I was very excited to meet up with Diana in Lisbon for a few days before I continued on with my trip in Buenos Aires.  I crossed the Straits and rode back through Spain and into Lisbon.

Somewhere in Morocco I passed 20,000 miles for this trip.  This milestone made me pause and think about all the places I've visited and the things I've seen in the past six months.  I sometimes forget about all I've done as I get caught up in the daily ride and routine, but thinking back on the past months made me realize what an amazing experience it has been, and how lucky I have been.  Naturally, looking back made me look ahead to the remaining months of riding I have in front of me, and that left me feeling a little overwhelmed.  But I guess there's only one cure for that - push on and keep riding!

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