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I had went to bed early, and did set an alarm clock for the first time in weeks, to 06:30. That gave me time to enjoy waking up lazily in bed, procrastinating getting up while enjoying my own company. Breakfast was the only poor one I had this trip, that went nicely with the theme of this visit to Fes, croissants were stale and worthy of one single bite, orange juice hadn't seen an orange since an industrial factory somewhere once processed them, and coffee tasted like Nescafe. In Morocco there's no excuse for non fresh orange juice and shit coffee, but it made sense as that hotel didn't even offer a breakfast free stay, they had to push people to eat it I was ready to go a little after 7, but as I looked around the streets seemed really wet and it was going to be dark for a while after leaving, so grudgingly put my plastic rain pants and jacket on. By 07:25, I was ready to go: Put navigation on heading to Ain Dorij, and rode off, google maps took me out via tiny streets that seemed more complicated than needed, but the low traffic showed me a less seen side of Fes. It was interesting. Getting out of town and rain starts to steadily fall, at 08:15 I had had my only really challenging moment on the road and stopped to enjoy the sunrise a little, on a particularly muddy and poorly surfaced bit of road tilting to the right, I was forced to brake a little and basically slid off the road, I spotted the gravel bit outside the tarmac and simply pointed to that and rode it for a while. I am most impressed at the Mitas E07 + Dakar, they're sound tires even if the manufacturer warns that they have poor performance in rain and cold. 08:15: Rain properly starts to fall shortly later, my phone is now safe in my jacket and I stop for a moment's rest after spotting shelter. Someone takes my picture as for whatever reason I was enjoying it quite a bit. The above was at 08:55, I then put the phone back in my jacket pocket safe from the weather, and rode all the way to Tangier with no need for it. Navigation was easy and although I was riding on less than main roads I knew I had to go pass Ouezzane and then Chefchaouen, it proved easy. Rain didn't stop for the rest of the morning, averaging from hard to very hard and very windy at the same time. I got stopped at a checkpoint and after the initial small talk the officer told me I had been spotted at 95kmh on a 60, I got off the bike with the helmet open, got my right glove off and introduced myself, told him I would be more respectful from now on, but that I was intended on catching the Ferry and wanted to not miss it, all while putting my biggest possible good guy big smile attitude. Then he asked me for my papers while looking at the back of the bike, and asked where I was from as clearly I didn't have a French or German plate, upon the answer of "Portugaise" he enthusiastically shook my hand and after becoming friends sent me on my way with a big smile and a "ride safe" farewell. Portugal is a good nationality to be in Morocco, our national football team shares the same colours, and we both like beating the French and Spaniards. From there it was very smooth to Tangier, if plenty of wet. The last miles before Tangier were dry and windy, which allowed the overalls to dry on the outside. I had money with me so stopped to top up the bike at a Shell station, rode into Tangier feeling like a road worn adventurer, and quickly got lost in lunchtime traffic Stopped at a cafe with outside tables on a common street and ordered a sandwich. While it took forever to arrive I took the overalls off and made myself comfortable. Turns out my overall pants aren't really waterproof anymore, my jeans were wet on the outside all over the waterproof stitches, and my chest and upper back was fully wet too. Good stuff! The bike looked proper and had just proven to be a trusty friend, a true work beast or a war horse: It was good to ride to the port without the blasted rain suit, hang around for a little getting in line for the bike to be x-rayed, it all went easily as if hipotetically crossing between any European countries. The crossing was a little choppy, the storms seemed to have angered the Mediterranean and the boat rocked heavily the whole trip. At first it was funny like so, look at the water level in the horizon: But after a while people started to get a little tired of it, I felt like having a piss but sat firmly in my seat at the risk of falling over when walking or throwing up if standing, two guys started praying to Allah, and a few people had hands on their faces like trying to prevent eyes from popping out. We made it ok though, lack of paperwork on the boat was a bonus, I don't envy people crossing the other way and having to write stuff down, I would succumb to that for sure! Got out of the boat in my due time, and pushed the bike along with all the line of cars that got off the boat before I did. Tarifa looked stormy, so I put the rain stuff back on, the time at Tangier and on the boat had dried my clothes so I felt comfy and fresh. It was past 16:00 by the time I rode out of Tarifa, I had looked at hotels around there and also the weather forecasts, it was rain for the next few days, so feeling fresh after the ride from Fes I decided to go home for the night, Waze sent me via Badajoz which wouldn't have been my preferred route, but as it was raining through Sevilla (or was it Huelva already? I don't know...) I was lazy and followed it's guidance. Storms were littered all around, with orange warnings for heavy rain so I figured there must be a reason for the longer route. Right before entering Portugal I stopped for a snack after riding all the way from Tarifa in heavy rains. 20km into the trip a water barrier descended upon me with such violence that water pushed into my overalls with ease through my neck and wrists. This stop made sense, and the tiny jamon con queso bocadillho provided me with a little comfort from the belly outwards. The beer is 0% alcohol, too. The snack and fuel stop was at 20:09, I made it home at 22:54 and the bike looked pretty much like I did except prettier, just as wet. That was an epic day riding, around 300/320km in Morocco's backroads and around 700km in Europe with port crossing and a choppy ride in the middle of it, I felt like it was a proper day to end a proper trip, and was comforted by a hot shower in my own house, that I grew to love from Maria. Heated up some of Sofia's shepherds pie and opened a bottle of red wine. I was feeling energized when arriving home, despite the long day, but as soon as food and wine hit my stomach and I settled from the excitement of riding through rain storms, I started feeling tired. That night I fell asleep moments after laying down, and the rain lashed the outside of my bedroom walls through the night. On this trip I travelled with Maria and Sofia, and have to thank you all for providing an audience, the taking pictures everywhere provided with a distraction to some of the very intense feelings I had. I got through it and the extreme darkness I feared didn't appear, only sorrow and the memory of loving times did. I hardly ever felt alone on this trip. It was a nice one, there will be more. Thank you for all the nice comments.

Nope, nothing exciting, soz At some indeterminable point around Christmas everyone decides to either clear their desk or realises “oh shite this has to be done by next year” - cue flurry of work and don’t get to bed til well after 1am every day, last night 2am. Snore. Exciting was the ride to the airport out on exposed viaducts in the mountains with torrential rain, thunder, lighting, hail and a sky so dark it was like night. Thought about sacking it off but as Pedro kinda guessed boys excited I’m coming home and booked an everyone home banquet for Friday And am British so in my DNA to do stupid shit, didn’t book a car and rode to the airport anyway. Todays ride was hairy. Gonna buy some super reflective gear

Not the best job to be honest...but looks much better...now he has the job of making good his mess....numerous screws in the wall that he used to hold up the cables.....and he has to remove the trunking that goes up the side of the door......keep him busy...if daughter can get him off of FIFA football game for a hour.

Just had a call from my boy to pick up the grandkids at 3.30 for a couple of hours. The wife bought a Xmas tree yesterday so they can help her decorate it.

Waiting for my car to defrost.....doors are frozen to door seal strips. Then going to try and tidy up son in laws attempt to route cables to their new TV (will post a photo of the mess he made later) he ain't got a clue.

07th December, Wednesday It was the coldest night since I've been in Morocco, snow covered mountain tops were in sight of where I slept. I woke up with no alarm clock, as has been so for a couple of years except with unusually early work commitments. And since it was dark and still too cold, I laid in bed enjoying the warmth. Dawn was at a little past 8, this is 8:33, bike felt cold just from looking at it in the distance, minimum temperature that night had been 1ºC. It was the first time in this trip that it cranked slowly once before starting, maybe still sleepy! After slowly enjoying breakfast and double the usual amount of hot coffee to allow the sun to kill off some of the early morning cold, I get out and ride off with 4ºC showing on the dashboard. I am definitely heading north and back home, though, first heading is to Fes and then Tangier. Winter is firmly arriving and I am not equipped for it. A little later I stop on an open plain, this is the last wide open spot that I'll see on this trip, so decide to stop and enjoy it for a moment as I had done so before, in 2017. In 2017 it was decided that our next few trips wouldn't be to Morocco, and I distinctly remember passing this road, undergoing construction at the time, and realizing I wouldn't be doing this for a while. Fate proved cruel and I couldn't anticipate how right I was. The road to Sefrou is great, sometimes it almost feels European in a good way. My phone demanded my attention and I stopped for a while, right on the middle of some twisties. Moroccan police is strict with speed limit enforcements, they have just the few fixed cameras around major cities, but all around the country you can expect to find the odd police stopping point armed with a speed gun. For European vehicles some of the 60kmh seem too low, but they really aren't considering the state of some of their vehicles and the loads they carry. A little after the previous picture was taken I was warned by an oncoming car about the radar, and after it stopped by a couple having a cigarette by their motorcycle. They were a very cool couple, spaniards in their 60s, riding a grey and red R1250GSA also with Vario cases, the dude was surprised to see mine on the GSA and like geeks we bonded over how bikes look shit with the tubes required to carry aluminum cases when the cases are off. They frequently ride all over the Iberian Peninsula and Morocco, it was a nice meeting and one of those sort of short contacts with people that warm up your day. Cool bike they had, too! Street dog pack in Sefrou: I made it to Fes quite early, and decided to stay. The couple from before had told me that I would be facing rain storms in Spain and Portugal, and north Morocco as well, and that I should spend a couple of days to wait them out before going if not in a hurry. I'm no good in just waiting around like that and seemed to me I was going to ride through the rain regardless, it was a matter of choosing to do it in one or two days of heavy rain or 4 or 5 days of shit weather. I chose the least time regardless of intensity. Arriving at Fes I got hit with a big time nostalgia, having spent a few nice days here before. Fes gets really hot in the summertime and most of the year it's warmer than you would think considering it's almost northern location. Stoplights sometimes have little sun beaks to make lights easier to see in bright sunshine, here sometimes they melt over the lights from the heat! It's also a place where revolving outdoor publicity signs have airconditioning systems attached, so they don't burn out in summertime. I arrived sometime around after midday, and the temperature made me comfortable compared to the early morning cold. I went looking for a shop where I bought a carpet previously, they had reasonable prices and acted like a cooperative, the selection was immense and they had friendly people there. That shop was now extinct and replaced by a place that now works on the third story of an office building and sells mostly custom carpets to big hotels. They only had one Kilim rug there, it was pretty but the dude wanted 3200 dirhams for it, and I think that was too much, so didn't take it. He was immovable on price, so he can keep it. My hotel of choice made me smile when I rocked up at 13:00 and asked for a room. The dude proved what southern Moroccans think of people from the big cities of Casablanca, Rabat and Fes by being an altive twat and telling me to come back later since they had no rooms ready yet. Since it isn't summertime and I wouldn't miss their amazing swimming pool space, I went across the street and 20 minutes later was having my shower and getting ready to go for a walk. Fes' main avenue, ending at the royal palace's gold leafed doors. I stopped for a snack somewhere where me and Maria used to have dinner at, still the same guy but he was in a bad mood that day, lunch was cheap but completely forgettable, and not worthy of a picture either, and that's saying something considering this ride report 's picture intensity. I walked to the medina borders to see if I could find a rug shop and to walk off some of the afternoon. Getting to the medina was a few kms walk, and the noise, smells and pollution of Fes got me before that. I felt miserable and intoxicated, people had no space for a friendly smile towards a foreigner unless asking for a coin or trying to attract you towards a stand selling something. Cafes showed no hospitality and overall my nostalgia towards Fes was not returned. Next time I'll treat it the same way. Stopped by the hotel for a little, to organize some of the luggage and sit in my bed to relax a little. Went out to find something to eat at night, and sat down to eat some pretty average rotisserie chicken, not on pair at all with what you get in smaller places. I did smile at the table next to mine as I watched three older ladies in traditional but couture level clothings eat their chicken breasts with their fingers, to me that moment illustrated the difference between European and Moroccan table costumes. Did come across a pretty cool street stand selling books, most of them in Arabic but some pretty cool covers there. Searched for a cafe but regardless of the abundance of establishments all I saw were noisy unpleasant places and rude waiters, gave that a pass and went to my room. I had a big day ahead and felt like quiet. I slept ok as I was a little tired from the afternoon walk, but a little sad of the disapointement that Fes turned out to be. Earlier I had booked my ferry pass to Tarifa sailing out of Tangier Ville port at 15:00, it's no big deal making it but I was supposed to get the first proper rains of this trip, and that I did...

I had a bit of black guttering screwed to the wall once. It hid everything perfectly although I did have to buy some longer leads. I've now got our tele where the old fire place was and put some drain pipe with a 90 at each end in with the brick work. Once again I had to get some longer leads but there's not a wire in sight.

Fuck knows...how is mind works....iam rerouting them at the base of the skirting board.....it will look a load better.....fucking stupid place for a TV....he has a full wall next to the sky box..but no..put it on the opposite wall...

a work of art

Wifey did our tree the other day...its one that comes out of the box fully decorated..just have to position the branches....lazy persons tree.

I really enjoyed all of your reports Pedro. You have a talent for writing and engaging the reader. I had thought long trips on BMW's were behind me but reading your reports had me dreaming of more. Thanks for sharing your feelings also, gave some real emotional colour and context to the trip. The photos were stunning.

06th December, Tuesday Dawn at 08:05 from my hotel room. Breakfast my hotel was not included in the room price I paid, and I didn't feel at all captivated by it either, too international and I'm feeling like an adventure. The plan was to swiftly ride out of Marrakech and through the Atlas heading East. Roads are cool, views are cool, weather seems to be behaving, all's cool. I ride out heading to Azilal. Already out of town I am not missing breakfast, but I am missing something to start the day comfortably instead of just water, so stop by a Café Mobile. The quality of the expresso these guys put out from the back of a small van is amazing, 10 times better than the best you can get in most Europe except Portugal and Italy, and even then there might be a case for Morocco's roadside café. The guy is surprised I take pictures of his car, but I tell him that's not very common in Portugal. He quickly says that if I plan on making a Portuguese business he is available as a partner , but being no fool quickly says that in Portugal you probably need fees and permits and taxes, there you just set it up and go. At 6 net dirhams per expresso it IS pretty good business. He did follow good practices on cleaning the stuff and preparing it for the next coffee using boiling water, more so than most cafes in Portugal, I was amazed. Maybe one of these days I'll start going for the more complicated coffees like milk and foams and sugars and all that stuff, maybe after going back to Taroudant and staying in the gay hotel too Azilal is a very civilized place, if I were to go live in Morocco for good and looking for a place to properly live this could well be it. I stop to send a postcard home Tagalf, just a village full of people living a hard mountain life, all the kids smiled and laughed though Donkeys, always stop for donkeys Riding out of Azilal, a young man is hitch hiking along, not a tourist but a kid on trainers and just jeans and a sweater walking along a road, he must have been 17 or 19, I wave back and he salutes me with their gesture of waving at you and then touching their hearts, so I ride back and offer him a ride. Carried him for maybe 30 or 40km in 7 or 8ºC, he should have been freezing but always with a smile and happy to not be walking. When I left him he said he was going up to Beni Melal, maybe another 30km but going north, he had no problems thanking for the ride and I watched as he walked away decidedly down the road, hope he got a ride instead of walking through the night as it's cold there. Stopped in Aghbala, it was 15:17 when this picture was taken. Aghbala has many qualities: it's got a kick ass adventure sounding name, it's busy in a Atlas exotic sort of adventure way instead of nasty city way, smoke from coal grills and woodburning chimneys was wafting through the air, streets were paved with mud covered tarmac, people couldn't give a shit about me being there except for kids, I spotted a little snack place with a hot metal plate, so stop the bike and walk in. The lady running the place didn't speak a word of french but we got along, I managed to get my favourite sardines served inside a bread long with diced tomatoes and onions, it was pretty fucking awesome and flavoured perfectly. Just the kind of thing to pick you up. Picture does not do it justice. Also had a kind of sausage, that feels like mostly paprika inside with little meat, it was quite spicy. I've no idea what it's made of. As I was eating, there was a lady with a child in the back. The little girl completely taken with curiosity came to investigate me from a safe distance. After a few winks she finally gave me the biggest smile, I didn't catch that on a picture though. Nothing like a silly traveller to make women put on a pretty smile for a crazy foreigner Feeling comforted from both a great meal and the warming smiles, I crack on! The plan was to make it back to Imilchil, the little mountain village I had passed through a few days before, and take the lovely mountain dirt pass again, going again to Boulmane and then coming back north up the Todra Gorge. This would add at least a day to my trip but who cares, I make progress... Temperatures drop substancially, it's now about 16:30 and it's been between 6 to 8ºC for the last hour or so, then it becomes clear the more mountain passes crossing the Atlas aren't a good idea, I'll let the pictures tell you why, that white stuff is where I'm heading. I've been to Imilchil and that area in days that saw me enduring 35º before and after, and still being sort of chilly there, it didn't sound like a half pleasant idea to go past there with snow on, so that plan was discarded and I fell back on plan B, Plan B was to go near Zaida, and stay back on the same place I did before. Funny enough that's what me and Maria did in 2017, stayed there once going South and once going North. I went, and about one hour later got there. It was now getting proper cold in the area. I tried the check in and nobody was there, the restaurant and you could go in and rob the place, nobody around, tried to see if the room I wanted was open and it wasn't, then tried everything again and found the TV room, everyone was watching the first half of the Morocco vs Spain match. I got my key and we left formalities for later, quickly had a hot shower and made it there to watch the end of the match. Morocco won on penalties, their goalkeeper "Bono" was gigantic and eliminated Spain. Most people lost their shit, the single one guy in front of the tv not jumping? He's a Spaniard: Now, Moroccans are insane about football, they will now way more about the portuguese league than I ever will, they'll know players names from the first 15 teams in Portugal, and that knowledge extends to Spain, France, Germany, England and Italy, it's amazing. They will watch most things with true enthusiasm, and that day Portugal was to play agains Switzerland. My new friend Mamoud proclaimed he would watch the match with me, so now I had to I had my dinner of preserved citron and chicken tagine, and it was very much amazing, and drank a 375cc bottle of Moroccan wine. It's not the greatest wine, it's below average in Portugal, but you live according to your surroundings What happened next was a thing of beauty, as I sat down to watch the match, 10 minutes after it started there were two guys there; one Moroccan, tall guy built like a closet, had a big smile but only one crooked tooth to be seen, then the other was clearly European. As he didn't say hello back when I sat down I asked if he was Moroccan and he answers with a very distinct superiority: "Moroccan, me? I'm Swiss!" I proudly stated I was Portuguese, and the Moroccan guy just erupted into the loudest laugh, and went to scrub his hands together in a way that clearly meant "game on!" Portugal finished the first half with 2 or 3 goals over the Swiss team, clearly going to win, my Swiss fellow traveler wasn't a good looser. I went out and smoked a cigarette with Mamoud and another guy, now part of the small group of avid football fans. I went and bought another wine bottle, to share with Mamoud, but did the gentlemanly thing and went to offer some to the Swiss, who coldly stated he was having a beer. So, instead of ordering a big bottle I got another small one, Mamoud wasn't much of a drinking and I felt awkward to drink a normal amount amongst company with unknown beliefs towards alcohol. German tourer parked for the night outside the restaurant, I can see the appeal in proper winter: The Swiss made fun of Moroccan wine, and went on to nurse the one sip left on his beer glass for a while, stating that in Portugal we do have nice wine. I agreed, and swallowed my mental response in which I told him that being a Swiss he knows shit about wine. Portugal won 5-1, the dude quickly got up 1 second after the final beep and stormed out, he was a twat and sadly the first contact I had with another foreign motorcyclist. Had another smoke with Mamoud to celebrate, who turns out used to ride a 125cc 2 stroke Yamaha (it went up hills with two big people no problem) said our farewells, and went to bed. It was properly cold that night, but I slept great after a day of motorcycle riding, mountains, good food and a little wine in me, and enjoyed my comfy bed with really heavy covers.

@Buckster ?

Close

You found ice cream in the freezer?

Toty nomination right there

I told him to put some Christmas lights on the cables

It's very low consumption... Had proper candles on our old tree..

Very true......Pedro's a great writer!

She would be posting here if that was the case. She'll be home cooking a 5 dish meal for her sons and getting hammered. Or, @Slowlycatchymonkey, going on a big multy day motorcycle ride around the UK too busy to take two pictures and post a ride report!

That’s not a tree … this is a tree

whats her number ... i'll take this from here you pussy.

Winterising it

I've dealt with my consiance before and I didn't know what to do anymore... Abandoning my boys basicly... And I ask for guidance... I swear and actual voice spoke to me and told me that I needed to return and finish what I started.. Finish raising my boys and get them out of her crazy mother.. It scared me wright the fuck out at first and in a way calming... Told me my scarafice in the end would be rewarded...

Anyway after scarfing down my sandwich I opened up the freezer.. Like I've stated she knew everything that I liked and so did I about her.... The freezer was filled with my favorite ice cream... Hagandaz strawberry ice cream.. Think there was like 8 jars... I knew it wasn't her favorite for sure.... Being a sexual deviant.. I grabbed a jar and took it in bed... Next thing I knew we were covered in the sweet nectar of strawberrys....

Anyway after 3 days of non stop love making I needed food.. So I made my way to the fridge and made myself a double decker ham sandwich with cheese... Then I opened the freezer... It's coming soon I'm on my lunch hour... I'll try to finish up tonight.. Off this afternoon and I'm on my way to book a Vegas vacation for March...

Just asking for a friend can non forum members me nominated for TOTY? I'm sure there would be endless nominations if we can

I was just about to post this myself @Tango but wondered if it would be wrong for a mod to post politics. There again it's not politics, it's the fucking truth

Thanks for the ride Pedro, excellent report. Felt a little emotional for you reading some of that. My favourite pic.

Clearly he is making them less of an eye sore!

Hope it doesn't eat through your electricity allowance mate

Fucking working like a madman again. And it's still pissing down......but there's light at the end of the tunnel now! So I may be getting my new tyre and handguards fitted next week!

Ordered a heated towel rail for our bog a couple of weeks ago. Company sent an email to say it's been shipped and gave the tracking link. When it hadn't turned up after a week I looked at the tracking link and the delivery company show it as still with the supplier. I emailed the supplier to ask them to investigate........no reply! Emailed them again to investigate........still no reply! Because there's so many scammers around I always pay by PayPal, so I'll give them until the end of the week and if I don't hear from them I'll get onto PayPal to get my money back. Meanwhile, it's bloody freezing in the bog at the moment! One thing I have learned since being here is that customer service can be extremely sketchy! Either brilliant or complete shit. There seems to be no in-between!

I made her sqwirt Pete...

It was strawberry!

You wouldn´t recognize her after 2 years? I do hope you are making this up...

Absolutely superb @Pedro . I really appreciate all the photos and the great text as I know how time consuming it can be. I hope you managed to exorcise a few demons and at the same time have some great memories from this trip

Keep watching banged up abroad we may see her

Absolutely cracking.

Wow, what a trip and great ride reports. So many pictures I was going to comment on, but I should be booking some stuff for my next few days of travel. Enough of the warmth and sand, back to snowy highways. I’m happy for you as it sounds like your adventure was really good for you.

That's true, the goats climbing the trees are an amazing show when they do it up in the mountains. Not that it matters since the seeds squeezed for oil are protected inside the shells that need to be cracked open to retrieve them, but the practice of collecting seeds like that isn't a thing anymore. Argan oil went from being a foreign thing to richly valued for the cosmetic industry, and for Parisian chefs to lavishly use it on salads, so value increased exponentially over the last few years. As such, herding is done less and less on Argan, and they're mostly picked like olives.

05th December, Monday During the night I felt like I heard the bike's alarm sound, it was parked outside but with video surveillance and very closely nudged between the hotel owner's suv and an old Land Rover, it wouldn't be moved without a commotion but anyway it did cross my mind. In the morning when I went to put the luggage on it the Landie had recently smashed windows, the bike was untouched so all's good and time to go. Such a nice place, I marked it on google maps to remind me where it is for next time I'm around, even if they thought I was German on account of the kind of motorcycle I rode in on. By 9 I was riding out. Starting the bike and heading out of Taroudant was a pleasure, warming it up slowly on still mostly sleepy usually very busy streets, There's kids playing football everywhere: I had a couple of calls to make, so by 10:15 it had just become office hours in Portugal so I stopped and got on with them. I stopped right in the middle of an amazing Argan tree orchard. While I did calls and waited for people to wake up back at home I got distracted and spent a while looking at trees. The darkness over the mountains in the distance? Yes, that's where I'm going. A little further on stopped for tea and to try and finally wrap up a couple of things back home, and got a little guy interested in my snack. And then, up the Tizi N'Test. It's a great piece of road, goes up to a little over 2000 meters and has been greatly improved since I was last here, it's hard to keep it safe with all the frequent rock slides, though, they smash through barriers like it's nothing. It's a shame, it's such a cool little road to climb that I really wish it went to 3000 meters and lasted longer, right when it's getting more and more interesting it reaches the top and you start descending on the other side. The other side of the mountain going down to Asni isn't as impressive. Usually, usually it isn't as impressive, today it was a little bit more dramatic than normal, winds were really very high and they had just had a lot of rock slides that were being cleared as I went past. The sort of thing that really blocks a road unless you're on a bicycle and can carry it over, or can REALLY mess up your day if they hit you. It's pretty countryside though. I stopped by a place I stayed at before, with Maria, it's a great looking hotel, with amazing modern Moroccan cooking, I stopped to have a look around but they were closed for season cleaning. I pondered on staying there, but just walked around for a little and then rode on to Marrakech, it was too early to stop anyway, and it really looked like the weather there in the mountains was going to turn quite nasty. Rains here mean muds and conditions that challenge my casual jeans and open faced helmet riding like an adventuring gentleman. It was good to go, spending a whole afternoon with nothing to do in bad weather would also be boring. At Tahannaout I saw a sign for a woman's cooperative and stopped as I still had a little shopping to do and felt like talking to someone. Women cooperatives are a way that Moroccan women found out of taking to market skills and labour that they traditionally do, like carpet making, argan oil products, spice preparations, all kinds of traditional stuff. Doing this via a cooperative it means they control their intake of household money instead of watching it being diverted to their husband's cafe lifestyle while kids go hungry. The ladies were very nice and one of them spoke perfect english, that's nice as my french isn't up to understanding a fast spoken conversation. I wanted to buy some saffron too, but they didn't sell spices there, traditional saffron is a great product, it's an expensive thing so it's a shame when you buy stale old strings, I was pointed to another place 45 minutes away, I made it in 30 There, as soon as I arrived the older lady, clearly the matriarch of the place quickly came and gave me a hug and said that I wasn't going anywhere until she got a ride in the bike of my bike, I told her that for that I needed a discount on spices and that she would be risking ending up in Portugal. Her reply was a big laugh, told me I could take her wherever, and a naughty wink! Moroccan women are cool sometimes. The whole place was full of pretty smiles, I did my shopping and then proceeded to give three rides through the village, each one with someone laughing along on the back. As we rode along the village I noticed that skies were turning properly dark above and that water was starting to flow on the sides of streets, coming from the mountain above. I resisted the will to linger around there and rode on to Marrakech. From there to Marrakech it was mostly flat straight roads, traffic meant a steady 60 to 80kmh, not fast but under that kind of weird traffic you're better sticking to slow. It's a road, but people turn around anywhere, bicycles share the road, kids cross it, people park half n the road, cafes have tens of scooters in front, all of them arriving and leaving like on a busy bee nest. I'm content to see the dark sky behind me I pick a hotel, book it within 1 minute, put it on the phone's navigation and easily ride into Marrakech. Sometimes we're spoiled by technology! This is the views and sounds of afternoon Marrakech traffic on a nice and organized avenue, from my hotel room window. Lets take a walk down to the main medina square, it was a half hour brisk walk to get there unless you get distracted or lost, I obviously did both. Police Kawasaki, they came running very distressed that someone took a picture of their bike. Cool tow truck! Bus station human mass on end of afternoon Marrakech And the Medina, Flavored with tomato, spices and onion sauce, it's great! I remember having it for 40 or 50 cents, 20 dirhams this time. A sign of times in bigger cities: The old Yamahas are a class act compared to the current 4 stroke chinese bikes. Motorcycle parking, zoom inside and you'll see hundred of them! Made my way to a small spice and herbs shop that I previously visited. I told the owner I had been before and he enquired about my life, I told him, showed him a few pictures of when we were before, and had an emotional moment. That properly left me sad and full of sorrow. I slowly walked back to the hotel with tears in my eyes. I had spent a week here in 2015 on the year the 1150 broke down before flying home, and visiting Marrakech had more of an impact on me than I anticipated. I gave a few donations to people trying to sell cookies on the street to make a few dirhams a night, one of the ladies cried and hugged me and wished me well, it felt ok to at least make someone else feel better on that moment. Got to the hotel but didn't feel like burrowing myself in my room, so sat outside in a café and had some hot tea. The next day would see mountains and elevation, I had a plan for a little adventure and was looking forward to it!