The heat had given me a restless night. I had not slept well and the hot weather had got up before me. It was time to leave the deserts behind.

The hotel had been fine, but I hadn't felt too welcome and it all smelt a bit too. It was like bog brushes had not been invented yet.

Betty had been parked in a secure garage but it appeared that someone had stolen Hot Chick from under the windscreen. It didn't bother me too much anyway. I suspected that she had been using me for the ride anyway. So now, I am on the lookout for a riding companion. We'll see who turns up.

Out of Tata and into the Anti Atlas mountains, the temperature certainly dropped a little, to a much more manageable level. The scenery was like the Badlands of South Dakota. I had ridden through them 22 years ago and the same song was in my head. Run to the Hills by Iron Maiden. No one would dare to do a song like that these days!

Mad rock strata in the Anti Atlas

The rock strata grew madder and madder until I came across the point where I could take the piste to the left or carry on the road straight on. The piste promised some truly unique views of the Anti Atlas but my ankle was still very weak. I did not fancy the 20 km of riding down the oued, so I carried on. I wanted to be fighting fit for a few of the iconic pistes a little later on.

The road was a great biking road, it rose to at least 1500 metres so it was very comfortable but views were outstanding of valleys mountains and little villages clinging to both. There was just no need to go above 90 kph because there was too much to take in. Betty was still a bit out of shape with footpegs and bars bent out of shape, nothing was in a natural position, I would need to see to this soon.

I had grown out of waving at folk over the past few days but now it seemed to reap dividends, everyone waved back and you knew it was just to say hello. I stopped at a little town for a coffee break and of course the road could not be seen for school children, but there was no hassle, just a bit of bonjour and minor interest.

The road went on with many a song in my head. I came across many a laden donkey with sometimes a passenger aboard. There is still a lot of horse\ass\horse driven traffic on the rural roads. The life looks hard for these beasts of burden, but I don't see any of them looking like they are abused.

You have to feel sorry for these poor fellows. They keep Morrocco running

So finally to Tafroute, a good natured small town in the Anti Atlas. I found the campsite and pitched up next to a motor home from the UK. At last an easy conversation! I chatted with the Scottish owners for a bit and then ate, showered and got my head down. I wasn't sure of my plans for tomorrow, but I would see what sort of sleep I would get.