After spending an exteremly unrestful night in Ceuta (dont care how cheap the hostel is- make sure it is not on the local cruisers route- fookin ambient house music), we finally made it into Morocco. For the most part Spain was great and we met some great, helpful, interesting people. It just wasn't where we wanted to be- well not for 22 days anyway.Coming through the border we collected an exteremly affable helper who we couldn,t get rid of- not that we tried to hard. We just paid up and went with the flow. Got completely stiffed for the insurance though- our fault not checking details. Paperwork done and off we went.

The ride up to Chefchaouen was uneventful except for the wind. Very blustery, and Kirst was having a bad time of it. Still here we are camped above our first Moroccan stopover. We were hoping to have a good nights kip but the fair is in town and its directly opposite the campsite. We wandered over- as you do- and were faced with a "Wall of Death", i mean come on you just have to. We paid our 50p and climbed the stairs to look down upon a ratty GT185 Suzuki, a couple of gallons of petrol in an old mineral water bottle and a few tools of the trade. Me being an up and coming Health and Safety Officer it was enough to give you a turn. The rider was great! No hands, side saddle, taking nougat off the croud whilst riding. Real seat of the pants stuff.

Down into the medina tomorrow.

Henry and Kirst

P.S. Kirst has pointed out, it was indeed MY fault for not checking details on our insurance documents