Day 1 - Almost Turned Back (but luckily didn't...)

The hosts at my inn was an nice elderly French couple, who served me a good breakfast and in my broken French, I managed to explain I had no idea as to where I was going. They had two suggestions, which I am really, really grateful of - as this set me off on a wonderful, unforgettable journey - this was to head towards the east, in the direction of Tetouan and Chefchaouen. Spoiler alert: I originally thought of going to the city of Tangier to the west, which I did reach some two weeks later - and I wasn't too found of that city.

So after chatting with a guest who used to be a Formula-1 marshal (and knew everyone from Lauda to Proust and Senna), I set off on my own F1 journey. It was a bit chilly on in the morning, but after all it was late November next to the Mediterranean Sea. I watched the waves hitting the northern coast of Africa and looked over the mountains of Andalusia. It took quite a while to leave the area of the port of Tangier Med - it is quite an impressive areal - as I had unfortunately found out the night before - it never seems to end (I must have ridden some 7-8 kilometers next to it...). It was, similar to the previous night, heavily guarded and there were a lot of bilingual signs (Arabic, French, English) heralding the visitors in various directions Eventually, the road turned away from the coast and my first - and definitely not the last - long ascent started.

I enjoyed the views of the large port and the rugged coast-line, when I was reached the first of police checkpoints - countless more were to follow. You see, Morocco is a safe country and there is every intention by its politicians to keep it that way. I was never once stopped at these checkpoints, but witnessed that they would regularly inspect trucks, lorries, but also passenger cars - and these cops have a lot of respect - the traffic comes close to a halt before these strict-looking officers. Oh, talking about police, I later saw they have a lot of speed traps in form of portable radar pistols, one tourist told me he was stopped for doing 68 km/h in a 60-zone and was to be fined for 150 dirhams (about Eur 13 - one can have about 3 dinners for that price at the roadside kiosks), but ended up with just a warning. While I do not like police controls, I felt safer, plus these guys are really friendly to tourists, especially on the one on the bike...

I could have followed the main road towards Tetouan, however, I found out there was a mountain road going there as well. The cops warned me that it will be narrow and steep, but then I was there for the adventure. So I soon stripped down to a T-shirt and was pedaling up an incline in the lowest gear. Everything started to turn around me, no, I was not fainting, it was the blades of countless wind turbines, as far as the eye could see, the Moroccan government decided to utilize the constant breeze coming from the sea. Looking back, I also saw a large dam - of which I would see quite a few of (not of the wind turbines, though). It wasn't the Moroccan government, but Mother Nature who placed the first cactus in front of me and it was blossoming in bright red color.

Windfarm

Modern Morocco - countless wind generators close to the coast

Blossoming cactus - and if you look closely, more windfarms in the background

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The port of Tangier Med on the left, an interesting rock formation with Spanish mountains in the background

Soon I came to the first village - I waved at the people, they waved back friendly, in the second village it was time to do some groceries, as all I had were a few energy bars. A father with his young son explained (more precisely, that is how I understood) that the shop was at the stop sign a few hundred meters back. There was an open door, so I entered - into someone's house. Some local women came looking very confused (not angry, at least I hope), they told me the shops were further back. I saw children playing soccer - this is a very popular sport, you see, Morocco made it to the World Cup and when it comes to men, they either play it or watch it. I saw zillions of soccer fields, even in the most barren parts of the Sahara - and there is a huge hype for watching European football.

For a couple of dirhams, men (and just men) watching soccer in a local institution (in Tetouan). Next to the football clubs, the picture of the king hangs from the wall

I found a shop, there were about four of these, and bought some water and yoghurt. I was expecting to pay a "tourist tax" on these purchases, but to my pleasant surprise, most (but not all...) places in Morocco are honest and do not try to extort the visitors (I could tell some less compelling stories of Hungary, unfortunately). The 1.5 liter water was usually 6 dirham, while a yoghurt costs 2 dirham - pretty constant, no tricks. Finding a shop selling bread was more tricky, I was sent from Pontius to Pilatus, till a man with a limb understood what I wanted and brought me a pita bread - it was 2 dirhams. I gave him four and he was really appreciate.

At this time, I must have been only about 10 km from the coast with the huge, modern port - in this village, however, being definitely off the beaten path, time seemed to have stopped. It was poor, the inhabitants living a simple life, but - at least as far as I could judge it - not a harsh life. Still, the contrast to the life on the coast was quite striking.

I was doing quite well, I had already ridden for some 50 kilometers, when I saw a sign to the Ksar es-Seghir, the place I had started from, was just 12 km away. Oh well, but then I had the pleasure of riding next to the one of the largest ports in Northern Africa...this comes from lack of planning - but then who cares?

On quite remote, but scenic roads I got to (I think) Htatech, where I was getting hungry. I settled for the first place I saw, a nondescript fast-food joint, where I get s a sandwich with some minced meet (paid just 17 dirham with a drink). Had I looked more (but then hunger is a strong lord), I'd had found some roadside grill places, with delicious sizzling meat. Oh well. I then decided to get a quick haircut, it cost me 20 dirham (about Eur 1.80). Topping off my water supplies with 6-dirham water bottles, I continued my trip, me swearing silently when riding next to the delicious grill places.

Lots of cactus blossoming cactus plants, many mosques, one more large water dam - this was the view this afternoon - altogether a rather enjoyable, pleasant ride in a green landscape. I thought this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, with Morocco's landscape.

Mountains, mosques - and even more windfarms

My quiet country road ended and it gave way to a very busy, rather unpleasant highway - in addition, the sunshine was threatened by some black clouds. Soon I spotted the city of Tetouan, a large city creeping up a hill with white buildings - from the far, quite similar to ones in Andalusia.

Tetouan from the far - not unlike Andalusian cities

As faith would have it, I experienced my first - and I believe - only "down time" when I got to the city. I was getting tired, by that time, I had had roughly 85 kilometers, gained - and lost - some 1300 meters of altitude. That is not so much, but there were some black clouds gathering over the area - then when I got to the city itself, there was some kind of a demonstration or celebration, with cars whizzing by, full of youngsters hanging out of the windows, waving the Moroccan flag. The city, from within, did not look inviting, there was a huge river bed, dried out, with heavy machinery digging, sand being whirled about. I prefer more quaint places, tranquil countryside - bustling towns are not so much my thing. I planned to leave immediately - "Mashallah", things took a different turn. Talking about turns, I missed a round-about that would have taken me towards the mountains in the south, so I ended somewhere deep in the center of town. There I saw a place "Gare" and the vision of a pleasant train ride back to the shore and then a short ferry ride to Spain was very tempting. It quickly realized that there was no train, just a bus station - and then I convinced myself to give Morocco one more chance. I found a hilly road back to junction I had earlier missed, but as it was getting late in the day, I started asking around about hotels on the southbound road. It turned out that there was nothing for the next 60 kilometers or so - and knowing it was uphill, the only option was to stay city (well, I guess I could have pitched my tent somewhere, but it being close to the evening in a country quite unknown, I decided against it - also, did not plan to get all my stuff wet).

A lady at a pharmacy let me use her phone - more of Moroccan hospitality - to make the booking, I chose a small hotel (called Hotel Marrakesh) in the city. At first, my angst about large towns turned out to be true, it was just tall buildings, lots of traffic, uphill roads - was not a happy fellow. Nobody knew about my hotel, but most folks signaled for me to keep riding uphill. And suddenly - there I was, in the first medina, the old town - and was simply amazed. Huge crowds were busy strolling through small stands, selling everything from vegetables through shoes to electronics - and I was electrified. For all the lack of my planning, I did not even bother to check that the medina of Tetouan is an UNESCO World Heritage site, one of nine in Morocco - and I almost left without seeing it! Silly me, really. Faith, a guardian angel or something similar had me book a room right in the center of the medina, in a tiny street. I was so excited to walk around, after reaching the hotel with my bike (it was quite tough to get there, pushing through the thousands of shoppers). My dinner was street food from these stands, it was quite tasty and cost next to nothing.

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