I was planning another big day on the road, so after a few more tense battles with Montazuma, I was on the road. I think I will stop drinking milk because it seems to give old Monty a renewed vigour in his vengeful pursuits.

Just down the road was the Cascades of Ouzoud, a kind of mini Niagara falls, if you will. I went into town and was ushered into a private parking space, somewhat reminiscent of a nativity scene, but remove cows, donkeys, baby Jesus and wise guys, replacing them with Renault 4s, Dacias and a Mercedes. I wasn't bothered about being charged 10 dirham, equating to 63 pence. The guys needed to eat and in my mind it represented excellent value that someone was constantly watching my nicely shaded vehicle.

The car park owner wanted to show me the falls and give me a tour. I told him I didn't want a tour but he insisted in showing me for free. I got the feeling he was a decent chap, and he took me to right next to the top of the falls which were slowly crumbling away. I can do heights, but even I had the hebbie gebies. It was a good 150 feet to the bottom! I insisted I would have a look around myself but gave him 5 Dirham anyway, he had gone to some trouble and he seemed genuinely grateful for this.

The spectacular falls

The cascade was quite spectacular. A few water spouts squirting water into a pool below, there were no railings no warning sighs no nothing, you could just walk off the edge if you wanted to. For once I wanted a bit of Nanny State!

I walked down to the bottom of the falls that was somewhat spoilt by the tourist tat sellers and the many a cafe. It wasn't as bad as Niagara falls though.

A bit of health and safety please

On we went, the roads being mainly small windy affairs, but with little traffic, so a joy to ride. Eventually we had to join the main national route between Fez and Marrakesh and things slowed! There are just too many vehicles going so slow on these routes, there is a town every 5km where the speed limit appears to be user definable and in general, people drive stupidly close to the next vehicle. In my opinion it is much quicker to stay on the yellow and white roads but keep your eye out for pot holes, goats and broken down Dockers. Actually, they are everywhere, especially the flat bed motorcycle incarnation of them.

Broken down Docker, common sight

All the way on the national route, to my right was the Middle Atlas mountains looking cool, full of trees and not full of impatient drivers. After a while, I look a yellow road off into the mountains and more by guestimation, followed the mountains toward Azrou, The Rock, a town that lived under a rock, where they used to have a market, if I read it right!

The quite roads in the foothills of the High Atlas mountains

On the way I wanted to go through the Cedar forest to the south of Azrou to see the trees and also see if I could see the Barbary Apes that live there.

I got my directions wrong in the end, so finally ended up in Azrou. I had found the sort of place I was looking for in the rough guide and it was a fantastic auberge. I had a meal there and finally got wifi to contact home where my lack of contact had caused some concern.

I was to bed early to catch the final call to prayer, Adhan, of the night. This Adhan was beautiful, melodic, shrill in parts and a pleasure to listen to. I had experienced other Adhan, that were a little terrifying, like Rab C Nesbitt was delivering it. You really don't mind a good Adhan at any time of the day or night, but the bad ones make you want to hide!