I'm Back !!!!

Yes, look out UK I'm back, ferry docked at Portsmouth at around 3pm yesterday and after a run down to meet up with my old friends Les & Jane at Travel Dri just outside Exeter, I'm now sat at Membury services having just met up with another candidate for Scoots 2013..

Now time to try to hook up with another rider for a pre-meetingmeeting tomorrow before popping down to Newport hospital to see how poor old Steve is getting on. Steve was all set to come on this years trip until a little accident on his bike put him flat on his back for a few weeks...

No pics I'm afraid as time is getting on and anyway nothing much new on the camera anyway. So off to Newport then up to somewhere towards Leicester before finally dropping anchor back at Chez Moi in Pumpsaint... Ooo, liofe is fun!

Almost but so far!

My lone bike on an almost empty ferry

Well that's Africa done and dusted! I crossed to Spain on the 12 noon ferry yesterday after arriving and the Tangier Med Port in plenty of time. The ride was very cold for Morocco though, with the sun not appearing until I sat on the aft deck of the ferry. The formalities to escape from Africa are smooth and easy, no money, one small Fiche form to complete, and even that was done by the guy at the ticket office where I had to confirm and collect my ticket. I got a bit of a surprise on board the ferry when I went to buy some lunch; they didn't take Dirhams and I as I didn't have any Euros, they had their lunch back and I went hungry, Oh Well, I did say I was trying to lose some weight on this trip !!!

Goodbye Africa !

As the Bureau de Change didn't open I arrived in Spain completely skint without a Euro to my name. Thankfully, Spain has plenty of ATM,s so I soon rectified that! Then cam the next the next shock... I called in a Decathlon to look for a new air mattress and whilst there I used there free WiFi to sort out my ferry from Santander to UK, only to find the ferry I wanted to catch on Saturday was completely full! Bugger! I chase across Africa to get home early onlt to be thwarted at the last fence... Oh well, I'll be a couple of days later than planned as I am now booked on the Monday afternoon sainling, hence the fact that I am still on the camp site at Algeciras sat typing this !!!!

And hello to Spain (well Gibraltar actually!)

Most of my kit is packed away, I've had a couple of cups of tea with a sultana pancake for breakfast and once this is posted I'm off for a shower before I depart for a leisurely up through Spain, but first it's back into town to find a bank as I still need to change some Sterling to Euros. A littler tip to anyone traveling abroad in the near future, Sterling is not liked anywhere anymore. Everywhere I have tried to change it I have either had suspicious looks or been offered an appaling exchange rate e.i. 1 for 1 !!! So fill your boots with Euros before you leave home is my advise!

Tuesday 19th June

After a record breaking 819Km today, I’m tonight camped at the place time forgot! I left Tan Tan Plage before dawn, the sky was just beginning to lighten as I pulled out of the camp site. Riding up the almost deserted street, I wondered why a  Land Rover was coming straight at me on the wrong side of the road… Yep, you guessed it I don’t think I had washed the sleep out of my eyes properly, it was me that was on the wrong side of the road, the first time I have done that in the whole trip! Anyway no harm done, we were both only doing about 20kph, so plenty of time to get it sorted. This may be sun-Saharan Africa but I left wearing my Merino wool thermal vest, a roll neck fleece and a pertex windproof under my heavy Gortex Jacket, and I even then I was only just about warm enough. As I passed through Tan Tan my GPS signalled sunrise by changing the screen colour, however there was not a glimmer of sun to be seen in fact it started to rain, only gently but it was nevertheless raining in the Sahara! By the time I had reached Guelmim at about 150km distance the sky had started to lighted and my fingers had gone completely numb in my summer gloves, so I did the only sensible thing and stopped for coffee and croissants; after all I hadn’t had any breakfast before starting out. The sun did eventually come out of hiding but it was one of those weak sun’s, playing hide and seek through the clouds.

Inspite of the weather I was having another good ride and I needed to! I am aiming to be on the ferry tomorrow afternoon so I needed to be within a reasonable distance of the port, in fact it’s now a run of about 350km straight up the motorway. I don’t usually do motorways on the bike if I can help it, but if I am to have any chance of being on Saturdays ferry out of Santander it was the only option. All I hope is that they can find enough room for one small motorbike and rider…Ok one not so small motorbike and rider! Which brings me back round to the Place that Time Forgot!

I’m on the edge of Mohammedia at a camp site, the coordinates of which I got from a camp site book for Morocco. It was supposed to be Camp Said, but in fact it’s the Mimosa Beach Club and it’s so weird it’s a bit spooky! It’s full of cabins, well wooden bungalows really, but most of them appear not to have been opened up in years. The timbers are all rotten, the grass is all grown up around the doors and the shower blocks look as though they haven’t been used (or cleaned!) since World War One! 

There are three restaurants around the pace but none of them serve any food even though they have signs out advertising all sorts of tasty things; if the werewolves start howling in the night I’m out of here tout suite! However it is only about £3.50 per night… I’d still rather my wild camp though, even it were free!

Continued !

The incredible heat lasted until a couple of hour before sunset by which time the wind had got up and I was riding into a full blown sandstorm! Oh the joys of bike travel in sub-Saharan Africa ! However, having reached the 600kms that my fuel had lasted I was getting a little desperate as I was sure reserve wouldn’t get me to Camping Saada, just before the border and even if it did, running out in the mine field in no-man’s land didn’t bear thinking about. Suddenly I spotted a fuel station, it looked sort of derelict but there were people there, so I pulled in. Whilst the diesel pump was still just about chugging along, the petrol pump had long since expired! However the young man assured me he had petrol! Opening a shed door he pointed to a heap of 20lt plastic cooking oil containers all of which were being used to store petrol, God help them if they ever have a fire! Now my only problem was that he wouldn’t sell it in less than 20lts ! The exchange rate he offered for my one remaining 100 euro note was ridiculous, and the price he was charging per litre, extortionate, I had no choice though but to bite the bullet and pay. up. Like I said earlier, that will teach me to be tight !

My next shock was on reaching Camping Saada! We had always stayed in a couple of huge Bedouin tents, but they were no more. I can only guess they were destroyed in the winter (or summer!) winds that are ferocious in this area. However as I posted on the previous part of this blog, whilst the tent he showed me looked somewhat past it’s best from the outside, inside it was great, although lacking a mosi net! Now whilst there may not be much in the way of mosis in this area and certainly not flying in the very strong wind, there were plenty of other bitey flies. So I simply put up my inner tent inside his tent and spent a very comfortable and bite free night. Oh and my day’s run was 698km ! Sorry Joel !!!!

Sunday 16^th June.

My Escorts through the Mine Field

The day started nicely with a couple of Father’s Day messages from the kids. I hadn’t even known it was Fathers Day ! As the border doesn’t open until 9am I brewed a couple of cups of coffee for breakfast, headed for the “shower”, slung a few buckets of icy cold water over myself, packed and headed for the border. I arrived a little after 8.30 so had to wait after the first police check as the customs office wasn’t yet open. To my amazement about 10 minutes later I was signaled to go inside and 2 minutes later was back on the bike heading for immigration! That too passed in the blink of an eye so it was off to Mad Max land… the mine field ! Rather than get stuck in the soft sand again I took the easy way out and followed, albeit at snails pace, an artic lorry! He was obviously used to the run, and other than one slightly soft bit, no-man’s land was negotiated with relative ease. The Moroccan formalities were just as quick, so by 9.20 I was on my way, hardly believing my luck. I stopped for lunch at the same Hotel I had stayed at the night before I crossed in the other direction and of course they had WiFi, hence this morning update.

Tonight I am “wild camped! behind a rocky sand dune, fairly well off the road but unfortunately a little too visible form one direction, I just didn’t want to risk riding any further as the sand was gradually getting softer, and I would like to be able to get out in the morning !!! Todays run was a little down on yesterday as I had to detour into Dahkla to find a bank. I found one, it was shut! However much to my surprise they had an ATM, so I was able to fill my fuel tank to the brim and buy some much needed engine oil. The old girl still seems to be using rather more than usual, but she sounds fine and nothing is blowing or running out, so perhaps it is just the poor oils and heat combination…

As always on a wild camp, I slept like a baby… also realised that I am now back on GMT so lost an hour! However still on the road for 8am having packed away a sodden tent. It always amazes me just how wet the Sahara can be at night, there was even a puddle of water collected at the bottom of the rim of my front wheel! Dry bread and coffee for breakfast; hardcore or what? LOL That’ll have to change for Poland with Allie, it’ll be the full English and breakfast tea then !!! 

The long road home!

The weather started cool, warmed just a touch and then got cold and miserable; not what you expect for June in the Sahara and it was completed by a strong head wind meaning the sand ripped another layer of skin from my face! But did I care? No, I was in the groove today, I’ve found my Mojo, I’ve got white line fever! Cue music, volume up and just let it flow, I was having fun! Lunch was the rest of yesterday’s dry bread with a tin of sardines slapped in it, washed down with some nice cold water; Ooo, I know how to live.

Lunch Stop

At Boujdour I found a bank open as I passed through so was able to finally change some Sterling into Dirhams and celebrated with a nice cup of coffee; cost 9 Dirhams or about 65p, a bargain! I couldn’t make up my mind where to stop for the night, whether to push on to Guelmim or to stop at Tan Tan Plage, eventually as the weather was still miserable and my tent was still very wet I pumped for one of the very basic (and cheap!) cabins at Tan Tan Plage as it worked out about £4 

More Alcatraz than Paradise!

But it does have WiFi!

more than camping and meant I could get everything dry for tomorrow when hopefully I’ll be camping at Mohammedia just south of Rabat. That will leave me with a relatively easy run to Tangier Med for a late afternoon ferry back to Spain. Phew, I ain’t hanging about on this trip… So just possibly I might make a Friday Ferry back to the UK if I’m really lucky. If so it will be straight down to road to catch up with Les whom I guessing will be at the GS Club meeting on Dartmoor and that will be some finale to an incredible trip… if I make it !!!  

Let me out of here!

Saturday 15^th June

A typical village Mauritania style !

Wow, that was a day or parts; it threw just about everything at me from a gentle, cool start to sweltering heat and finished with a sand storm! In between, well, read on!

6am saw me up finishing my last bit of packing, taking advantage of a nice hot showerand ready for a 7 o’clock departure. Having paid Ursula & Martin last night I could escape just as the dawn broke. The morning air was pleasantly cool as I rode along the few kilometres along the track to the road. As is always the case this early in Africa, the street were already busy with people going about there business and kids getting off to school . I slipped unnoticed through the first police check point and then again at the next, hoping my luck would hold I took the new bypass around St Louis, evading about 3 further checks. Once out the far side of town and back onto the main road I could hardly believe my luck when the last check point appeared to unmanned. I didn’t hang about, just in case they were lurking in the shadows. Just before the turn for the Diama border crossing I stopped at a bakery and bought a nice fresh loaf of bread straight from the oven and rode off munching a piece of it.

Camping Saada, Northern Mauritanis last night's accommodation

I arrived at the border crossing and entered the police post with my documents, the policeman stamped them and passed them back “ Ten Euros” he said. “What for ?” said I. he repeated his “ten euros”.  “you give me receipt, I’ll give you ten euros” said I in my best English! He shrugged, I walked, trying my best to keep the smirk from my face. With a deep breath I crossed he road to the customs office. My sigh of relief must have been almost audible; my nemesis Moulay  must have still been in bed.. Yes: my cunning plan had worked, with hardly a glance at my passport it received the customs stamp and I was away and out of Senegal, although not before being parted from 5 euro by the gate keeper, Hell !,  fresh from my victory at the border I hardly even questioned it. Now for the Mauritanian side…  Police first, no problem, then customs, documents stamped passavante written out, “ten euros” came the cry once more. I had managed to grab each of my documents in turn as the customs officer had finished with them. “You give me receipt I give you ten euros” I tried again… reaching into his draw, he pulled out a couple of very scruffy photocopies of a blank receipt, damn he had called my bluff. I had one more ace though! I tossed him a 5 euro note and then emptied all the change from my pocket onto his desk. “ Paper” he said, “ I don’t have any more” I said, he smiled and slid the passavante across the desk.  Pushing my luck just a bit I asked for the receipt, he shook his head, “five euro, no receipt” he said, I laughed and headed back to the bike feeling as though I had just won a couple of small victories…

Better inside than it's looks from the outside...

And so to the Diama Piste! Now I’ve ridden along it five time now on a C90, but I must admit I was just a trifle worried about riding the heavy GS together with all it’s luggage through the soft sandy sections of the 100km Piste. On the C90 it’s great fun, on the GS it was “interesting” suffice it to say that I managed to stay upright all the way, inspite of a couple of “slaloms” across the road. Thankfully, as I was wearing the full protective kit, the weather stayed nice and cool, fresh even!  I heaved a sigh of relief when the tarmac main road appeared. I also saw more wild boar than on any of the previous runs, most of them with several young in tow. I stopped to eat some more bread washed down with luke warm water… nice! and I pushed on, having no Ouguiyas, buying any food or even fuel was a bit of a problem. I had some euros having changed some Senegal CFAs with Martin at the Zebrabar but I had a 100 euro note and knew I wouldn’t get a good rate at a garage or shop and also didn’t want to end up with lots of Ougulyas that I would have to change, however my tightness was to come back later to bite me. My 15 Euro bought me 10lts of fuel and I reckoned that on top of the full tank I has stared with should give me the 700km I needed to the border. What I had taken into account was the 100km of piste run mainly in low gears, and the heat which I’m sure reduced the mpg a bit. In fact I hit reserve at 600km about 50km after passing a fuel station…  

The fuel station also had a shop and so armed with a 5 euro note (my last) I tried to purchase a couple of cans of coke; I was getting a bit fed up with bread and water!  The shop, unusually,  wouldn’t accept the euros, but just as I was about to leave empty handed another customer insisted on buying them for me… another of those random acts of kindness! I thanks him as best I could in my appalling French and gratefully downed them both instantly; never has cold Coke tasted so good, and I rode on.  Then the weather suddenly changed, whilst it had been bright and sunny, the air had been relatively cool, probably no more than about 28c. Suddenly it was as though I had driven into an oven! So sharp was the rise in temperature that I actually stopped rather quickly thinking the bike was in flames under me!!! Having ridden in 46c in Greece last summer, I can only guess that it was now well into the 50s. I could hardly breath, my nostrils were being singed and my eyes were smarting from the sweat running down my face. Pleasant it was not!

To be continued… battery going flat!

A day off !

My Zebrabar hideaway

Friday PM

Paradise ! but better when shared...

There’s only one problem with having a day off when you’re travelling alone… too much time! Time to think, to reflect, to remember. I knew it was a mistake even before I had my breakfast, as I had no need to get up early I laid on the bed in the cabin, strangely, the same cabin I have had on the last two scoots trips, and listened to music. But music for me always holds memories, some joyful, some not so joyful, other just plain painful! If I hadn’t needed to go into town to change some money to pay the Zebrabar, I would probably have packed and headed off, there and then,  but instead I have had a lazy day sinking ever more slowly into gloom and depression. Even the thoughts of the forthcoming trip with Allie not enough to lift my spirits. I guess paradise is somewhere, something, to be shared; reflection something to be avoided and many memories best left unvisited…

The next two days are the toughest of the trip home as I’m hoping to clear Mauritania and be well up into Western Sahara by nightfall on Sunday, a distance of around  1200 Km but including over 100km of piste and the two worst border crossings, oh and of course the mine field. Once through that little lot I have to decide which way to run through Morocco. At the moment I’m in a “let’s get home” frame of mind ,so I’ll probably just head straight up the coast, but who knows, once I get the wheels turning under me, my mind might settle a bit and let me enjoy the ride. I’ve achieved more or less all I set out to do on this trip or at least all I am going to achieve, so at the moment it seems pointless just wandering about when my heart simply isn’t in it

One slight concern is that the bike seems to have used quite a lot of oil since I changed it in Bansang. It is probably just a combination of poor quality oil, although I bought the best I could get, and the extreme heat. Never the less, I shall have to pick up some more soon as I have used all of my reserve supply and I’ll keep a careful eye on it.