Day 9 - Bike Lane to the Desert

A freezing morning! This picture you see below is the top of my tent - the dew of my respiration turned into ice...

Ice all over my tent

I had a slow start to the day. It was a busy bank I had entered, they needed well over half an hour to exchange 100 Euros to dirhams - they asked for my passport, gave it back, asked for it again, then I had to spell my name - it was not the most efficient process. There was a café, where I got an OK breakfast - they also took their time, probably the cat in Tetouan had to hatch the eggs first.

Lots of schoolchildren I saw that morning on their bikes, more than in any of the other towns. I greeted them, waved to them, some answered happily, others ignored me. I then saw quite a surprising traffic sign in the Sahara.

Y

Yes, a biking lane - in the Sahara..made me smile!

At first, the road was rather boring, as you can imagine...

Yaaawn...

Then I got to ride by wonderful oasis with entire forest of palm trees.

Beauty of nature...

I stopped at a farmer family harvesting dates - there were about 10 different types, they let me try these - and gave me a bag full of it (notice the lady on the left).

Dates

Interesting was the traffic - I was overtaken by a convoy of the Moroccan army, saw a donkey traveling, a Mercedes just behind it.

Moroccan army heading into the desert, a donkey and a Mercedes

Children at play, the donkey from behind...

In a small town, I spotted a shop repairing bikes - as my brakes were slowly but surely wearing out, I asked him if he could take care of them. For 10 dirhams, this fellow changed both my front and the back brakes, repaired my light and greased the chain - I felt a lot better after that.

There were huge convoys of large 4x4 vehicles overtaking me, most with Spanish license plates and also waving the Spanish flag - they were apparently headed into the Sahara for some heavy off-roading. I also saw a huge convoy of some 60 motorcyclists, fully loaded, puffing along their way. In the towns of Efroud and Rissani, both of which were basically an oasis, there were large 'complexes touristiques', large kasbah-like places, awaiting the explorers - most of them empty or closed, it was not the main season.

In Rissani, I stopped to get a fresh glass of orange juice and for some rest - it was rather warm that afternoon, somewhere above 20 degrees.

Quick break in Rissani

After Rissani, I was really into the desert as one could imagine it. It was actually a long cul-de-sac, a stretch of road some 60 kilometers long, which would abruptly end close to the Algerian border. I rode only 40 kilometers to the town of Merzouga.

I guess this is the 'real' Sahara, with nothing but rocks and sand dunes in the far...

I had a love and hate relationship to Merzouga, which is just a small village, but a very touristy one, the reason being it is close to one of the largest sand dunes in Morocco, so a lot of visitors make it there on jeeps, buses, cars, some on their bikes. Alas, the inhabitants are very pushy to capture your business. I was still outside the village, taking a photo of a lonesome plant in the desert...

...when a motorcyclist came up to me and started promoting his place. I told him I wanted to check out the place first, he would not bulge, started following me. I asked him to leave me alone, he just kept talking. I changed strategy - stopped and told him I had to take a leak (apologies...) - that worked, he finally left. Reaching the first house, a whole crowd of people came up to me, a guy offering to show me a camping place. I followed, we took some quite bumpy roads (there are only two paved roads) and when we arrived, we were told there is no campground, but the place would cost 400 dirhams to sleep at, more than double that I'd paid at many other places. I told them to leave me, found a nice place (called Le Petit Prince) next door and negotiated a reasonable price (about 150 dirhams). OK, this was the hate part, the love part coming the next day.

I walked back to the main road, found a café/restaurant and had a good kafta sandwich (yes, again...) and talked to some of the tourists there. Back at the hotel, I met up with two young Australian girls, An and Diane, we chatted for quite a while about our Moroccan adventures.

130 kilometers was the distance that day, mostly downhill, 430 meters of decline, 100m of climbing - I was still quite tired in the evening. Here is the map.