Single ticket to Sarajevo

I was glad to leave Efroud and get back on the road again. I was also glad I would not be taking the southern piste and sticking mainly to the highway leading to Zagora. The pistes bashed us both about and always caused some worries in my own mind. I don’t think I would be able to cope with a long piste in this heat, especially if it had a few difficult sections, I would have a look at some of the pistes around Zagora rather than here.

I had a great nights sleep and woke to find that my ankle felt a little better. There would be no piste today just a bit of road riding, so it would give my ankle a bit more time. I had been told to leave my bike outside on the pavement which I was slightly concerned about. I needn't have as a guardian wearing a florescent jacket had looked after it all night. The cost 10 dirham, 63 pence. It is a bit hard to get your head around. 63 pence wouldn't pay for Group 4 Securities to clear their throats back in the UK!

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.

It would have to happen at some point and, here it did. I had gone to bed, ear plugged up and expecting a good night’s sleep, found it impossible to get to sleep because a certain nationality of campervan enthusiasts had got together to eat, drink, shout and talk unnecessarily loud into the small hours, like they still thought they owned the country.

It had been the first night I had not used earplugs as the ocean waves were a pleasure to go to sleep with.

I was away on the road north to Agadir. Here I hoped to go to a supermarket where I could buy some more supplies.

My room had a balcony on which I had made plenty of cups of tea throuout my stay. On the 4th floor I could sit watching them play tennis at Agadir tennis club whist making tea. It was most civilised.

Checking out and heading back the way I came I found riding a lot easier today. I was getting used to the position of the handlebars and had packed my bag a little better, yesterday it had been sliding forward on the seat and invading my personal space, putting me in a bad mood.

There were a few spots of rain in the air when I got up, something not experienced in Marocco yet. I put the tent away wet as there would be no way to dry it. I put my waterproofs in the panniers as I might be needing them soon. I said goodbye to the Dutch campervanists who had been kind to me and lent me a chair. You can always rely on the Dutch to speak good English, have a good conversation with and theres often quite a sense of humour with them too.

I wasn't having much luck with the Adhans in Fez, I was expecting a really good one but the local mosque had employed a rusty darlek with a cold to deliver theirs. It was a bit of a disappointment.

THe Blue Gate seen from the terrace of my hotel

I was hoping to deal Montazuma a fatal blow today by not eating any dairy products because he had executed a deadly early morning raid and had gained some ground.

Dry muesli was a bit of a spitting feathers affair, but with plenty of water, it went down, eventually. I had quite a lot of things planned today, so after loading Betty up we were ready for the off. I then noticed the chain had gone a bit saggy and the reason for this being my automatic chain oiler had been ripped off in the past few days. I don't know how that had happened because I'd hardly been taking it off road.

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.

Things needed to work like clockwork today as there was just one ferry, leaving at 1.30pm that would fit into my plans. All of a sudden, there was no more care free ambling. I had to be places at certain times.

I set off from the campsite and enjoyed the ride up to Tetouan. A number of reservoirs had been created and the water in them was unusually blue.

I am probably the worst person in the world to sleep with. Not because of my legendary love-making abilities, but the fact that I tend to snore and I get very irritated if I can't get straight off to sleep.

I had got irritated that night because next door to my room, over a 3 foot wide street was the terrace of a cafe. Even after 11am, people were making noise, playing a banjo and singing. I imaged them to be a bunch of right on western kid, off their face on kif having "The time of their lives". This did not help to better my mood.

The journey ahead would be a bit rough. I had to get within striking distance of Santander for the following afternoon. I would need to cross the majority of Spain to do this. After the beating Betty had taken over the past few weeks, I should have been a little concerned, but going on the past performance over the last few weeks, I was filled with confidence.

I was having to manually oil the chain after losing the automatic scotoiler but the tyre wear had reduced in speed, so I was confident to reach home on a legal amount of tread.

Its been a while since Morroco and a trip were planned this year to fly out to meet friends in the far east, rent a bike and mooch Mongolia.

However, more pressing matters took hold and we needed to build an extention on our rather modest house so all plans went out of the side of the wall which had just had a big hole knocked in it. I was slighly grumbly about it but, other oppertunities would arrise, I was sure..