early days

early days

in order to get the boat to africa, i took a train from malaga to the
dodgy departure point algeciras.

there one has 2 options - tangiers or cueta. cueta is a spanish
controlled city that borders morocco on all sides; infamous in recent
times for people trying to jump the (very) high walls and claim asylum
there.

arriving in cueta about 9pm i wasn't in the mood to free camp and
found a much filthier hostel instead.

entering morocco the following morning was pretty surreal. i appeared
to be the only one going in, while trying to enter cueta was a
stressed out line in the hundreds. police screaming, batons atwirling,
all very real.

i instantly hit some pretty big hills and some ominous signage -
"attention vent fort" et "attention brouillard souvent." thankfully,
there was no fog but plenty of wind. descending back down to sealevel
was a pretty nerve wrecking 30 minutes. some 80kms later, i arrived in
bustling tangiers. found an atm and the first of many boulangeries...

i then went down to one of the beaches where i met a local guy, abdul,
who lives in england - he was staying with his sister and her family.
he invited me to stay with them and i was treated to moroccan
hospitality and more food than i was able to handle.

i've since made my way down to a town called larache - a dusty old
fishing village. on the way here i was bombarded with free watermelon
and grapefruit - they kept me going in the unforgiving heat.

all is well. loving and hating being on the bike - at times, there is
nothing like the freedom it gives; other times i want to throw it into
the sea.

paul