Sunday, 12 November 06
So far so good! After two weeks of last-minute preparations in
I clear the camp site of Tariffa at
9 on the dot my ferry departs to Tanger.
I go to the cafeteria, order a coffee and sit down at the window.
I can already see
I’m excited. What will happen, will I and the motorcycle make it?
A loudspeaker announcement tears me out of my thoughts,
The control runs fast and friendly, 5 minutes later I can drive my motorcycle
off the ferry. The entry formalities for the vehicle are done in the same
friendly way. After the custom officer stamps my papers he wishes me a save
journey in German!
That is good to hear! Last, I buy the mandatory bike insurance at the
border and head into Tanger.
Tanger is a very modern and European like town.
I stop at the cafe Mozart and drink a Viennese Melange!
The waiter asks me where I come from and as I tell him that I’m from,
Nemsa (Arabic for
I leave Tanger heading south via the old main road along the coast.
The first kilometers in
Driving here is a lot of fun but however, in the back of my head I’m
glad to have an insurance.
After approximately 250 kilometers I reach the ctiy of
There is a nice camp site at the beach and I will spend a few days here.
For me
After a beautiful run into the sunset along the beach I climb into my
tent and spend my first night on African soil.
The morning is pleasantly cool and I immediately head to the diplomatic
quarter of the town.
If you decide to get some of your African Visas in Rabbat, you have the
big advantage that most embassies are in the same quarter. There are nice
avenues with big villas and expensive cars are parked outside.
It’s no problem at all to leave the bike on the road.
.
.
I drive to the embassy of
Their embassy is located in a huge mansion and as I come there the doors
are open. There are no security guards as in the neighbouring embassy of the
I take my document case and enter the building. No people around. I come
into a big atrium which is decorated with beautiful Arab ornaments and then
enter a kind of inner court. From there a door leads into a modern office.
As I look into the office, suddenly a man in traditional Malian clothes
stands behind me, followed by a man in a suit and a woman who wears an African
dress as well.
Obviously surprised, they ask me what I’m doing here and how I came in.
I thruthfully answer by the open door and explain that I need a visa for
Whereupon the man in the suit says that the embassy is not open yet but
that I can leave my passport there and fetch the visa in the afternoon.
Wow, that was simple.
So I go running during the day and take a few pictures on the beach.
The kids are playing football and everything is relaxed. As I come to
the embassy at
Now, two security guards stand in front of the building and examine my
motorcycle with interest. Then they wish me a safe journey.
I use the rest of the day to drive to the embassy of
As I park my bike before the building, a man comes out and friendly asks
me to come inside.
The visa can not be issued today but I can apply for it today and get it
tomorrow.
Tres bien!
In the evening I go for a ride through the Souks, the market streets of
Tuesday, 14
November 2006
Today I fetch my visa for
I also decide to visit the embassy of
As to be expected,
In the embassy I’m likewise received very welcoming but told that in
As I tell them that I travel for UNICEF and that I come from Nemsa (
That is an unacceptable price. I decide to try it in Dakar/Senegal
and/or in Bamako/Mali where the visa should be cheaper. Non business, single
entry and one month are enough for me.
This is
The rest of the day I spend with Sight Seeing
and visit the Roman Ruins and the
Today I will leave
I also have to extend my Motorcycle-insurance before I leave. The
original 10 days will not be enough for me. Since I have to spend so much time
with the bureaucratic tasks, I would like to remain in
The road office
This morning,
Such a nice way of saying good morning.
The first mission leads me to the consulate of
Many French and Moroccan car runners are always on their way to
The formalities for the visa are going fast. I pay, fill out the
application and can collect the passport at 4 in the afternoon.
No problems.
The rest of the day I spend in the old part of town in one of the
numerous tea houses with work on the computer. As I ask for a plug socket, the
waiter disconnects the television so that I can plug in my laptop
! The people in the cafe look unhappy, they have watched television.
However, nobody complains! I cannot bear that. I quickly get out my distributor
plug from the Moroccan building market and the televisions works again. All are
happy. That you should try in a pub in
Modern
Old Casablanca
I sorted out all the things and can drive on. Tomorrow I’ll be heading
south to Marrakech and from there over the High Atlas into the sea of the
eternal sands. The
As I wake up this morning the rain has fortunately stopped. Nevertheless
I’m getting pissed off soon.
A bird family nested in the tree over me and shit on my tent during the
whole night. That looks so disgusting, that I must clean the outer tent with
liquid soap. I also have never seen animals that can shit with such a
precision. On the ground next to the tent was not the smallest piece of dirt!
I leave
The road leads through beautiful landscapes which endlessly extend to
the horizon.
As I arrive in Marrakech, many things have changed at the first sight.
Only a few donkey cars still remain as left-overs from former times and the
roads are nice and clean.
Today, I cross the
Mediteranean climates
rocky mountains
And desert climates
After rough travel over potholed tarmac and dirt roads, I have my first
damage through vibration. As I stop for drinking some water, I notice that my
rear foot rest went off and with it the fixation of the paniers.
It still stands about 100 km to the next larger city. I can improvise
and repair the supporter with two cable straps and wire and continue driving.
At the next village I find a general store who solves
my problem within two minutes.
As I want to pay for the new screw-bolt the owner brings me another two
to keep as spares! In
I spend the night in Quarzazate, the former caravan city between Atlas
and
Sunday, 19. 11. 2006
Today I do some routine maintenance on the motorcycle. My right cylinder
makes some rattling noises and I assume that it is the valve play.
After a short readjusting the problem is solved and the machine runs as
new again.
The area around Quarzazate is full of fantastic impressions and always
great for a joy ride.
Today I meet two Bikers from
We decide to spend a few days together.
This morning I go for a run. I must think of my friend, who raced in the
Marathon du Sable. More different from home, a running trail actually can not
be. But you could get used to it.
In the afternoon we visit the Atlas Film Studios. Here movies like the
Gladiator or Asterix and Cleopatra where made.
Unfortunately the sets are not maintained and strongly run down. Like Noah’s
After a cold desert night in Quarzazate we go
for a ride on the motorcycle. The piste roads are
great and in two months the Lisboa-Dakar goes
through. Riding here on your own motorcycle is much more fun than watching the
others on Euro Sport.
We let the evening end in a small restaurant in the middle in the old
fortifications. The atmosphere is great.
Today we continue to Zagora. The road leads
along the valley of the Draa and passes bizarre rock
formations.
People’s life is harder here than in the modern north of the country.
At the roadside nomads try to sell their goods and most heavy work is
still performed by hand.
Street children run before my bike to stop me and as I swing to the
roadside to take a picture the first stones are thrown at me. Fortunately they
don’t hit.
Arrived in Zagora, annoying moped drivers
chase me and all sorts of dealers jump on the road in order to sell me
something.
At the camp site I meet my friends from
Since the atmosphere is pleasant and the camp site lies in the middle of
an oasis, we agree so.
As we sit down and wait for the meal a wild fight breaks out in the
kitchen. Glasses burst, a man gets beaten down and people are chasing each
other through the garden.
We remain calm and try to asses the situation.
Such things can end quite tragically, because you never know who lost
his face within such an argument and in what ever kind of way he tries to
regain his reputation..
We leave the terrace next to the entrance and sit down further away.
Despite all the unrest the food tastes outstandingly good and is served by a
waiter with his hurt hand straped into a plastic bag.
However, during the night we will watch out. You never know.
The day receives us with beautiful sunshine and the night was much
warmer than in Quarzazate.
We decide to make a trip to Mhamid. This small
town lies in the middle of a dry salt lake and was an important junction for
the caravans of former times. There, salt was exchanged for silk. Nowadays, the
border to
The landscape is absolutely impressing and leads through the southern
stretches of the Anti-Atlas into the infinite width of the desert.
Riding a bike can not be greater than here. The sun of
the
In the evening we return to the camp site and I start my laptop.
There is still some work to do, today the German motorcycle magazine Bikerszene asked me for an email interview and I’m happy to
answer their questions.
Friday, 24 November 06
Today we spend a cosy day at the camp site. I go for a run and work with
Chris on the motorbikes. As I remove the rear bellow of the drive shaft,
transmission oil comes out.
That points on a worn gear box seal. Unfortunately I cannot repair it
here. In order to change the seal I would have to remove the whole drive shaft.
I’ll have that done at BMW in
From now on, I will drive alone again. Natascha
and Chris ride into the other direction and we must separate after a great time
together.
I will head on to the south via the old desert road to Foum Zigid.
The road is good and the machine is easily moved over the sand and
gravel.
The area is very lonely and there are nice litle
dunes along the road. The piste partly leads through
small villages. At the first sight these villages look uninhabited, as soon as
I drive through one of them, suddenly a shady body separates from a wall and
tries to intercept me.
I assume that it is a begging child and reduce my speed to go by safely.
As the I come closer, I recognize that it a 15
to16 year old guy who purposefully tries to shoot me off the bike with rocks!
Fortunately, I am still far away enough so I get away without beeing hit.
This scene also repeats itself in one of the other villages. That time a
boy jumps in front of my motorcycle and at the end of a soft and sandy section
two other young people throw rocks at me. Fortunately again
without success.
Somewhat later a sheperd boy runs up to me and
tries to spit me in the face. I cannot believe that all this is actually
happening.
I know
such a hostile determination against a traveller I
have not experienced anywhere yet.
If that was not enough, on the half way to Foum
Zigid a sandstorm breaks off. My sight is strongly limited and the terrain
becomes very difficult to judge.
Since I do not know, which other hostilities may lie
ahead and whether the storm will become worse, I decide to return to Zagora using Track Back on my GPS. Now, the sandstorm turns
out to be a friend. The boys and young men can not recognize me hundreds of
meters before the village.
They do not make any further attempts to stop me on my way back.
Everything goes well and I take the road from Zagora
to Agadir and then to Guemin.
That has the advantage that I come through areas with people who are
more accustomed to motorcyclists and who understand that tourists rather spend
money when no rocks are flying.
I must notice that
The border area to
Some local kids would probably also like to have motorbikes but know
that they can not afford them, so in some of them that might produce
hate.
After a cold night in the mountains I see the snow-covered summits of
the
In the permanently strong and cold wind I drive to Fort Bou Jerif at Sidi
Ifni.
Sidi Ifni is located at
the
In Bou Jerif there is a camp site
inside the old fort once built by Foreign Legionnaires.
There I spend the night under millions of stars.
Today I drive to Layoune and start crossing
the Westsahara.
Endlessly long, the road leads along the coast, straight out into
nothing.
Not even one of the free-living Dromedars
crosses my way. Only a ship wreck at the beach offers a little distraction from
this isolation.
During the night I woke up a couple of times. In the morning I’m
freezing and sweating at the same time. Probably I caught an infection.
I feel weak and tired.
As I want to lift the motorbike on the main stand I also manage to hurt
my back. Back luck for me today as it appears.
The first 150 km go quite well, then however
pain puts tears in my eyes and driving means constant agony. I’m in the middle
of the desert, there is nothing it all and another
400km lie ahead in order to reach Dakhla.
Around noun I also start suffering from fever and together with the
pain, riding becomes difficult. Fortunately I find an accumulation of huts
200km before Dakhla. Some trucks park in front of it
and I see a Coca Cola sign.
A real luxury in this isolation, I have just found a rest house.
I lie down on the carpet next to the truck drivers and sleep for one
hour. When I wake up, I feel better again and the owner of the place hands me a
sandwich and a coke.
He says, “
As I reach Dakhla in the late afternoon I
drive the last 10km directly into the sun. Even with my new goggles the view is
equal to zero and I drive through a white golden wall.
Dakhla is a military town. Here is one barrack next to
the other and when you arrive you have to show your passport at the checkpoint
As in the Westsahara the data of the passport
is usually copied and some questions are asked. However, all controls run
correctly.
The wind still blows violently and I decide to spend the night in a
hotel.
14 Euros per night are ok and the hotel is very clean. When the owner
copies my name from the passport, he gives me a lecture about Austrian history
as well as the causes and the background of the First World War! That is too much for me today, after 500 kilometers
on the Bike and all my arduous back problems, I say good night and go to
the room quickly. I go to sleep around
In the morningsun, I sit down for breakfast at
the sea shore as two children come up to me. They collect scrap metal.
As I offer them some food, a boy gets a piece of lead out of his pocket
and gives it to me. He proudly explains
to me that it is also well suited for throwing.
When I look at the piece, I recognize that it must be from a fishing net. I am glad that the stone throwing children
did not have such projectiles.
In the afternoon I drive the bike throught Dakhla and make a stupid misstake.
I come into a side lane where the sewer lids have been removed!
That is not further indicated, only some stones are put in a circle
around the hole.
As I come around the corner I look for upcoming traffic and as I see the
hole it is too late to avoid it. I hit both brakes,
the front wheel drifts away and the motorcycle falls to the side. I can jump
off and fortunately don’t hurt myself. The machine comes to lying next to the
hole and fortunately the front wheel did not dive into it. That probably would
have destroyed the fork.
I was lucky but I must watch out! You never know what lies ahead.
Today I go to the post office and send home some things I don’t need any
more.
The afternoon I spend in one of the Teahouses. As I try to learn some
more arabic the owner gives
me a scarf as a present. To protect from the sun and to
remember.
Today is my last day in Morroco. Tomorrow I
will cross the border to
