Day 6. Tangiers to Rabat
Country

Reaching Casablanca is now the only deadline on the whole trip to Cape Town. When I come back in August, the rest of it will be open-ended. (Although I very much hope to do my usual Kitzbühel gig in January/February again).  

Getting the earlier ferry to Tangiers has eased the time pressure but it will still be a relief when the bike is safely stored with my daughter-in-law’s extended family. 
(BTW: my son Tom is moving to Casablanca in August with his Moroccan wife and their three beautiful children. They both have 2 year contracts here teaching in international schools. So they should already have arrived in Casa when I come next). 

My project for Sunday was just to get as far South as I could. So once again, for ease of navigation and speed, I took the motorway. Bikes are such fun, but motorways get boring eventually.  So lots of stops and lots of caffeine. My backside is black and blue and, although it’s not easy to fall asleep on a motorbike, it’s not impossible when you’re 72. 

I left Tangiers fairly late. A helpful local helped me get a SIM at an honest price. Sadly you have to be suspicious, but he was one of the very many good guys. He refused my offered tip, and said he was happy to be able to repay some of the kindnesses he has had from Europeans. Most Africans are decent and trustworthy. It’s just a shame that the minority of petty crooks and spivs are the ones we are most likely to encounter. 

By the time I reached Rabat I was more than ready to stop. After several detours (friendly police controls limiting motorbike access) I found the Riad I had booked online. On my detours I saw quite a lot of Rabat. It looks clean, well-maintained and attractive, with both modern and picturesque traditional areas. It puts most English towns to shame. 

The owner of the Riad is a Frenchman from Grasse (a town I know well). He’s a keen biker. His place is very cool, in a quiet area in the Salé medina, close to a nice beach, and to a marina with a restaurant that (Mashallah) sells beer. You are never alone with a beer. And an iPhone.