On bike in Morocco.
An adventure bulletin
Day three in Morocco, Actually I arrived today, because I
always have to acclimatize a bit with the foreign country
and lifestyle. Even, Morocco isn´t really foreign for me,
because I´m here for the 5th time. But so cold like today
it wasn´t before.
Let´s start all over again : On my way to my very owm home
airport Weeze-Laarbruch, I were escorted by the radio station
of WDR2 and listened to AC/DC „highway to hell“. Note well
: WDR2! My holidays are starting really good. Lets turn the
wheel of time a little bit more further in the past. Arrival
at airport of Marrakesh: right in front of me a really damaged
cardboard box – but my bike wasn´t hurt.
It was close to sundown. If I manages to fix my bike real
fast, I could jump on it and rode to town nearby in the last
light of the day and so I didn´t have to pay such horendous
prize to the cab driver. The bargaining should start the very
next day.. “Bargaining” is the national sport of the inhabitants
of Morocco, and needs plenty of time, which the inhabitans
got more than we do, and so, they´ll give their very best.
Day two:
The way goes from Marrakesh with headwind to Demante. Enjoying
the trip…you´re kidding. The physical demands are not that
bad, I´m just functionanting. The fresh oiled chain is buzzing
with every turning off the pedal and also the 300m of altitude,
I would be not angry if they were missing. I needed for the
104km abour 355minutes. Grr, clearly too much…
My third day:
Oops, the snow covered mountains from the Altlas mountains
coming badly closer and are almost touchable. I dawdle around
in the morning by temperatures with only one digit, and I
try to delay my departure by drinking fresh`n hot peppermint
tea. But nothing works at all, I gotta go. The first 6k´s
to the natural bridge are passing really fast. At this point
of the trip I had to decide which way to go. Normally I`ve
planned to exit from the tarred road (307) and ride to the
Atlas Mountains across the Agouti with both tops of the mountains
the Tizi-n-Ait-imi (2910m) and the Tizi-n-Ait Hamed (2915m)
riding along mule ways…
Well, There I stood and tried to make a decision of which
way to go at the junction. As I stood there, watching the
inhabitants, I recognizes that the inhabitans are watching
me. After a leck of time some construction worker from the
national road maintenance authority circled m and I got the
feeling, that I was a real good purpose for them to take a
break. The gravel on the road won´t run away and is still
there later to dispose. I was invited to have a tea with them,
so, we sat there now while drinking sweet peppermint tea and
thought together of which way to go for me. I´m telling them
from the Agouti and of the both tops. They replied that the
way across the Agouti is ridable by bike, but real muddy and
the both tops are hooded under a 2m layer of snow and not
ridable for my Pirate-bike. So, later, after two more glasses
of tea, we decided that the best way for me is to ride on
the tarred strret number R307.
It looks like unadorned, when you see this brickearth villages,
in these brickearth coloured hills. You barely see people
and now and then a car. I passed berbergirls directeing their
mules with a twig, they wave them like invisible orders over
the mules heads. In the valley you can listen to a small river,
finding its way, next to vegetables growing on green fileds.
You can envy these girls, they let carry them home on the
mules, with being sure of their sleeping place waiting for
them. Not like me, who´s riding in a direction of my assurance.
At least, where my camp will be…Its just after 18:00o´clock,
when its starts to raining cats and dogs on my last 6km to
Ait Tamnil. So, I stand right in front of a wooden sign, which
said “Gites dÈtape”. Thru a small woodendoor I entered the
inner of the brickearth houses. Some kids and men spotted
me and welcomes me friendly. Gites dÈtapes are family accommodations,
with small comfort, but they offer many of the inhabitants
romantic and naturality…
For dinner I had typically maroccean Tajine. For the preparation
you use a clay pot with cover, and in this clay pot is the
dish directly grilled in a wooden coal fire. Delicious. It
couldn´t get me better…
Tuesday, Day four:
Today, I don´t waste my time by drinking peppermint tea. I
want to move on. Packing my bike eating an omelet and go on…but
I still had some time to spend to look over the farmer´s market,
which offers you things from A like Axe to Z like Zipper,
like everythings. I made some pictures and than get on my
way…
The sky is cloudless,,but the temperatures are just over the
freezing point. As higher you got, as more rests of snow you
see by the way and in the lonely following villages you can
see in the shadows gigantic snow hills. Last week they had
over 1m of new snow. Every village I pass got its own restaurant
and a small shop, and everytime I`m able to refill my drinking
bottle and that´s the main reason I took a look in these cheesy
houses, but that doesn´t count. The most important thing is
that you receive very much smiles, and you feel very welcome
and like you´re home. Even riding in this area, looks like
a moon scenery is easy, you just have to push the pedals and
breath constantly, so you don´t feel the point of exhaustition
only in your inner part of body and in your subconsciousness.
In Assero I leave the tarred road of the R307 and rides on
gravel directing to Toundout. Rough gravel and loose sand,
once flooded, once dry – these way beats the rest out of you.
Now and than you see and hear bloking sheeps, goats. Some
kids yelling at me “Donne moi un stilo” (Give me a pen). Who
teach them stuff like this, here in this area??? In my travel
guide I find „Take 1 to 2 kg of pens with you on each trip
to marrocco“. Now I know why, so I had to move on and pass
these crestfallen kids. Between Toundont and Skoura I find
some colorful scenery, and finally it getting warmer.I overpowered
the Atlas Mountain with its ridable tops with over 2700m of
altitude. The snow covered mountains are getting smaller and
smaller, and ouf of the white-gray pink colored scenery comes
a buff desert. The Sahara desert starts here, finally I made
it to the nice oasis village of Skoura with many date trees.
In the evening I finished with 112,6 km and about 1684 m of
altitude.
Day five:
On the road of Kasbahs…the road of Kasbahs leads – nomen est
omen – along some brickearth castles and villages. Some are
forfeited, but many of them are still maitain. In the the
past they put on the battlement of the brickearth castles
as a secure of bad demons, head down clay pots with ostrich
eggs in it, now you find there instead satelite antennas,
not that nice to see… My way is side by the river Dade to
Boumalme-du-Dades. The scenery passes me by in the first 108
minutes like a flip-book.
And than suddelny it happened. Some action in my stomach,
with three word: Have The Runs !!! Four times here inmarrocco
and four time none of it. My average velocity and the distance
I made was something like a laugh. Shortly after 16h I arrived
my stage goal, twenty minutes later I´m in my tidy room and
at 16:37 I started with one package od Imodium the night.
He night was hard and long, I coulnd`t sleep at all, how???
Day six:
I don´t take a hand on my bike today and Imodium did not work.
So, right to the next pharmacy, I return with a handfull of
natuaral mud, divided in small different bags, to my room.
But if Catherine´s prayer back at home directed to Mecca on
her prayer-rug or the natural mud “Smecta” helped…I don´t
know. Fact is, the action in my stomach was reduced.
Still 5 days in marrocco, the tour over the Tizi-n-Timit to
Nekob I cancelled from my tour block, because in 5 days the
airplane start its way home again. So, on the road of Kashbahs
I rode in snail´s pace back. Sadly, no desert sand under my
wheels, my goal for today was the town of Quarzazate. The
locomotion is really hard, and because of that my way reaches
its end after 22km at a cab stand in El Kelaa. With the bike
tighten tom the roof I drove the last 93km to Quarzazate by
cab, that was a real adventure. Now I feel, how hot it is
today, temperatures are over 26degrees.
Day eight:
Three days of Having the Run…cost me power and time and I
do not feel very healthy right now. So, I came up with plan
B. Way back to Marrakesh on MTB across the high Atlas mountain
on marroccean tarred roads? I use a MTB and not a tarmac streaker
! Well, but in this country riding a MTB and driving a cab
harmonise a lot, so, I decided to cheat a little bit on the
way back to Marrakesh. I spent one more day in Quarzazate
and save me the way up to the Tizi-n-Tichka-top in 2260m of
altitude, and drive the main street P31.
Bur, I rode without any luggage to Ait Ben Haddou and back.
At least 67km, and only 4 km on a tarred street. Full concentration
on this stone desert, because it keep chattering and jinglkeing
on my bike, like the whole bike wants to fall into its separate
pieces. With a sweaty smile and a dusty body I found a river.
On the other side you can see the old Ksar(fortified village),
one of the world cultural heritage under the protection from
the UNESCO. By foot I reach Ait Ben Haddou. The brickearth
village is a maze made out of houses, towers and sheds. The
tradionally houses are build one upon and into the other at
the foot of the mountain. If their would only be half of the
tourists it would be a lovely place. Cos I never rode back
the same way, I crossed the river and bog to my hips in it.
It looks like a complete dive and completely wet I get out
of the river. On a bloomy and humpy way I returned to Quarzazate
Day nine:
When the sun rises the very next morning over the Atlas mountains,
you can here from all over the shoutings of the muezzin. He
calls the believers to pray – the town awakes. A cab driver
brings me with my bike on the roof passing along green fileds
over the Tizi-n-Tichka-top in 2260m on the main street P31
to Taddert.
The last downhill passages, even if this sough feels a little
bit like cheating and the head wind doesn´t has to cool down
sweaty skin, but I enjoyed the last 96km to Marrakesh...
My last two days, and I´m finally back in Marrakesh, the town,
who named the country of Marrocco, as the pearl from south
throwing over the Atlas, the town was called by an arabian
poet. And by the way, the Kings town is one of the most beautiful
of the country with its palmed lined city limits at the northern
shore of the Atlas mountains. A town were tradition and modernity
met.
Right in the middle of the medina, its heart beats : The Djema
el Fna, the place of the beheaded. There, were in the past
were hold of bloody justice. Nowadays, there is some oriental
driving. Like in the arabian middle age, you can see juggler,
imposter.The Djemaa el Fna is a real vivid place, maybe the
most vivid place marrocco´s, perhaps of northern africa. There
are snake charmer, storyteller, you feel like you´re in the
tails of 1000 and 1 Nights.
One last glas of sweet peppermint tea and off I go to the
airport. My time in marrocco is otherwise planned and over.
I wanted to conquer the mountains on mule ways, tasting the
shore of the desert, overnight in an oasis - but it shouldn´t
be. As a preparation for the TransAlp, I think these days
were not that bad. Marrocco, I will come back again…
Nils Gieskes