Marrakesh, what a ride!

Agadir was another nice coastal break on my bike trip and I left happy, the bike got fixed after all!

I was looking forward to an exciting day as I planned 135 kilometers over the mountains to Intimatoute. Like me, you probably never heard of this town, just beyond halfway Agadir and Marrakech.

The breakfast board of the Suite hotel had invited me to prepare my en-route food from their breakfast buffet. Thanks, appreciated, I had great French bread all day!

I planned to leave early, but at 8 o’clock it was still so unbelievably dark, that I decided to delay the departure a bit. Then it was time for the guard waved me goodbye; climbing into the Atlas foothills started immediatly on leaving the outskirts of Agadir.

Not even 10 k in the ride I stopped as I had to fasten a saddle clamp – not the repaired one though.. It was my bad luck that the aluminium clamp snapped and broke beyond repair. With the little tools I had plus a spare bolt I could fix it provisionally, I kept my fingers crossed.

Into the foothills – I followed a provincial road, without any traffic – the area quickly changed into desert. No sand, but very rocky and still cold, 4 centigrade, in spite of the blue sky. The bright sun made the area very appealing though, it would have been completely different with an overcast day.

The saddle construction played havoc, I tried to get a better fix, but so far from civilisation it became difficult. I found helpful and good willing people, but no effective solution was rendered for my wobbly saddle. A serious climb had set in – as expected – but it was a surprise it kept going up for some 45 kilometers, before reaching an altitude of 1000 meters.

Climbing is ok, but your progress is so terribly slow 😦 I started to calculate if I would make Intimatoute in daylight.

The fast descend to 700 meters gave hope, my worries disappeared. That is to say, until at 3 pm a northern mountain blizzard developed which slowed me down to 8k an hour. But, as the saying goes, when the going gets tough, the tough gets going. And meeting another biker will also keep you going.

The blizzard was a cold one too and just wearing biking shorts I started to get undercooled. I changed into my trainers but more action had to be taken. I intended to wait until the wind ceased and continue the last 35k in the dark desert.

I had been through that experience before in the Mojave desert, biking Route 66, so nothing new to me. Colder this time, true..I stopped at 5 to shelter behind an electricity transformer house where the gendarmerie had set up a check point.

There are many traffic checks along the Moroccan roads, I was not surprised. I went over to ask them what they knew about the wind, whether it would cease later and explained them what I was up to.

The officer looked at me and said: I’ll stop a car for you to give you the hitch to Intimatoute – I could not even object. 10 minutes later I sat in a van, half an hour later I was at the hotel. The hotel – not even on Booking – was ok, it had a vacancy, my room had a comfortable bed and a hot shower, my lucky day after all! I decided to have the bike fixed first.

The village was large, a town actually, the most Moroccan town I had seen so far. The hotel was in a street lined with workshops. I stopped at the first one, the mecanic looked at the bike, took it from me and told me to sit down. 5 minutes later he had fixed the problem with a hose clamp, 2 clamps to be precise.

The dark evening had fallen, so I looked for some dinner first. A butcher shop doubled as a restaurant. Dinner became a freshly cut lamb rumpsteak, grilled-to-perfection. I topped it off with a kilo of huge mandarins as a vitamin dessert.

I continued touring the village in amazement as I felt myself in another era.

The prices might have helped too: I paid 50 cents for the bike repair, I was charged 2.50 for dinner, I got the bag of mandarins for another 50 cents, I got nearly ashamed. Next morning I paid 11 euros to the hotel’s receptionist, who had spend the night on the couch in the lobby.

I had breakfast and stocked up at the local bakery, don’t know any more what I left with them..

What I do know was that it was freezing, f*#cking cold this morning, 0 degrees! So I dressed up in 3 layers of clothing, all I had, as I never expected it to be this cold on my trip. As a just-in-case I did pack a set of thermal underwear. But the bike felt solid, that made a good start of the day!

I Intercepted the provincial road, waiting for the sun to gain some power and warm my hands.This last day was only 110k and mostly leading over a desert plateau, fairly level between 550 and 650 meters.

No sandy desert, no camels, the odd donkey cart, and loads of rocks where sheep were still able to find some greens.

Wind came – and disappeared again – when approaching the outskirts of Marrakech, some 35 k from its center. It became a lazy ride after all, measured against yesterdays benchmark.

Marrakech is a large city, nearly 1 million people, with a large, walled and mazed medina which I planned to explore next day.

Like Intimatoute I went through the same experience entering the Medina of Marrakech: as if you were transferred by timemachine into a passed era. No cars but push- and donkeycarts. Plus horse carriages for tourists, though they take rides outside the medina.

The best way to explore the medina and its maze is by bike, which I happened to have with me. Followed a moped which chased the pedestrians away. Got myself a hair- and beardcut and got completely lost – as I lost the gps navigation signal in the narrow alleys. If you keep biking – and you will undoubtedly get stopped by a few dead ends – you’ll ultimately find your way out and arrive on the large market.

Snake whisperers, fruit stalls, hennah tattoo artists, monkeys which want to ride your bike, it is like a circus which attracts many, many visitors.

I had my tajin lunch, drank too much coffee and felt fully recovered from my bike trip. My sports app though told me I needed another 120 hours..

My trip planning had worked out well after all, I even had the luxury to choose to fly home on an afternoon Easyjet or an evening Transavia flight. With only 8 kilometers to the airport I went for Easyjet, to have dinner in Amsterdam. Prepared the bike and the wait started.

What a ride it had been! Nearly 1500 k since I left the Sevilla I went through some unforgettable experiences and only met nice, friendly people in a country full of pleasant surprises – on a well performing bike after all.

I’ll be back!

agadir

Enjoyed Essaouira, it was worth the nightstop and I won’t forget the old medina, one large soukh area. Hotel was fine too, bike happy too as it slept overnight in my room.

The first sign that hit me in the morning did not leave hope for large expectations, but routes are unpredictable.

The road climbed up into the mountains; there was little oceanroad left. However, the countryside which was returned, made up for it.

As I intended to travel to Agadir, the most southern point of my trip, I decided to bike the 200k in 2 days, due to the mountaineous terrain I expected. Halfway I had found Imsouane to stay overnight; with one upclass hotel and quite a few b&b’s I should be able to find a bed and shower.

It became one of those days I made very few pictures, I needed all of my energy to bike. Especially coming back in your rhytm after a picture stop is eating power. And then, once you take the picture of a sheperd with his sheep and goats, all animals blend in the environment 😦

Taking the picture I met another bike traveller. Fabio – from Italy, you guessed right – was on his way to Senegal, now 10 days in his trip. He nicknamed his bike Green Monkey, which went well with my Red Camel.

We were both heading to Imsoumane, but, as solobikers, continued solo, at our own pace.

The next challenge was the mountain ridge ahead of us, 450 meters high, 350 still to climb. Hairpins followed one after the other, the view at the top was superb, but impossible to catch in a picture. My complaint anyway: landscape photography is an art in its own and – for me – hard to put in an iPhone picture.

Wind and weather helped to develop a good speed. At midday I changed into my 4S outfit: shirt, short, socks, shoes.

I was looking forward to the entry to Imsoumane, I expected a long downhill run. It came up, but I had to wait till I was 5 k short of the village.

And then the run was over before I realized. Imsoumane is like a hippie town from the sixties which attracted many wave surfers. Not for long any more I was told, a mall and a big hotel are about to be built. It had a great vibe though, it was all quite basic, but hey, who cares?

It had a great sundown, the harbor turned into weird colors.

After people had their meals in the few shack restaurants, the village went asleep at nine. Might have been caused by the lack of alcohol, unavailable here.

What comes down, must go up, also applies to bikers, so I knew I had to climb out of Imsoumane, to reach the regional road to Agadir. First things first: breakfast with a view and getting supplies for this Sunday.

I entered this climb on my list: 350 meters up in 3 kilometers with a lot of gravel parts. Stopped once to take off jacket and trainers.

The view was amazing with the village in the right corner. Lonely at the top, as Randy Newman sings.

All in all it took me about an hour to reach the main road in which I had covered 8k. I had missed Fabio the evening before, though I tried to meet up. Now he texted me, he was about to leave Imsoumane after coffee. I had coffee too, at the butcher shop!

He send me my action picture…

Weather in the south added a few degrees and rendered blue skies and more beautiful countryside. Then it was a long hairpin descend again onto the Ocean Boulevard, next I passed the city of Tamir.

Leaving the city I noticed banana plantations – never knew they grew them here –

and cycled through a barren desert type environment along the ocean with lots of headwind. Passing the lighthouse of Cap Ghir became the most westerly point of my trip.

Immediatly after it was a left turn for the last 40k along the quiet bay of Agadir. Holiday houses, hotels, back into civilisation. 

Still off season here, so no problems to book a great hotel for next to nothing. Enjoyed the sunset again, these colors remain amazing.

Today a recovery day in Agadir, writing blog and report on the Superstrata bike. Had to fix the seat post which came loose – design flaw unfortunately – but did not impair the riding. Also, booked my way home on Friday, I have 3 days to reach Marrakech, hope I can do it in 2.

Used the last hours of daylight to bike the boulevard, not allowed, but everyone does it.

At the other end I was stopped by a lady, handing me her handy, to watch a video call. To my surprise it was Karim, the bike mecanic from Casablanca who fixed my brakes, 500 kilometers and a few days away. They were friends, she said, and after a picture and an ‘enchanté’ she disappeared into the crowd. It left me flabbergasted, what was it, chance, omen or plain coincidence?

It will be a challenging day tomorrow, into the mountains, into the boonies, to Imintatoute. Found out there is a hotel, but not on booking. We’ll see, life needs surprises!

Moroccan Ocean Boulevard

I could not leave Casablanca without visiting the Hassan II mosque, build on the edge of land and water. The bike ride through the hectic city was more than worth it, though there was no way to come anywhere close as police had the mosque solidly fenced off.

I left next morning in grey wheather and half an hour later I was already sheltering for the rain at – or rather in – a bus stop. It did not delay me too much, after all I had only planned a 100 k trip to El Jadida, also situated at the Atlantic, as I am following the inofficial Moroccan Ocean Boulevard..

After another – even heavier – shower, which I could not avoid, it cleared up. Still, not really warm with 16 C, barely good enough for biking.

Today was also donkey day, never seen so many of them; they were used to pull carts or were loaded with baskets full of grass – at least that’s what it looked like. Traffic is more used to donkeys then to bikers; they honk only for me. I gave up taking pictures of them, apart from the one for my grandkids to show how they could go to school.

Destination today was El Jadida, only a 100 k trip, to make it fit the schedule for Agadir.  Karim, my Casablanca bike mechanic, had advised me to make a stop in Ouarradi to have the best oysters ever. Passing the village I did not manage to find a restaurant to serve me an oyster lunch. But I found camels instead..

El Jadida is a thriving city, big enough to host a Decathlon and an Ibis hotel. I opted for a local hotel, next to the soukh, which was a good choice.

El Jadida was established by the Portuguese, as Mazargan, back in the 16th century or so. The old city is still there, could use some renovation, to use an understatement.

Had my fish dinner, but the restaurant had no notion of starters and main courses; it was all put on my table in one go. Then the tuna was cooked as if it had to be used as shoe soles. I gave them another chance, but also the second version did not really pass my test.

Next morning I enjoyed this great view from my hotel room.

It was a cold morning, I left at 9 and needed shirt, sweather, jacket and trainers to keep warm. I could have used full gloves too.. It was going to be a longer trip today, 145 k, as I could not find a decent hotel option any earlier. It turned out to become a great ride, initially with a crosswind as the smoke shows.

Later the wind backed to become a fierce tailwind. It was like having a turbo on my bike, at times I reached warpspeed!

Scenery remained amazing, I can’t get enough of oceans, must be my diving history. I had booked the hotel in Sila, a riad type hotel where the rooms have their windows facing the central hallway.

I walked the enormous boulevard in Sila along the rocky coast; no beach for the people from Sila.

Even had a beer in a coffee bar! I decided for a hotel dinner, bad decision. Just try to get a medium steak and it will be served as a thoroughly cooked piece of leather. The chicken I got instead was not much better.

Drove off next morning at 9 and visited the first bakery I came across. They had a great selection of sugared breads and pastries which would bring me easily and tasty through the day. 

The trip came with some tough climbs – and consequently the descends. At times I felt like a jojo. Luckily my legs did not complain. Worth mentioning: on a gravity assisted descend I set (and claim) the speed record for my – Superstrata – bike: a whopping 75 k+! Best of all was the stability of the bike, even under luggage load. As the saying goes: ‘never underestimate an old man on a bike’ 🙂

There was also this surprise climb. By now I thought the average elevation was only 110 meters, not realizing the mountains towards the south, even along the coast, were on the rise. I learnt the hard way when the road flattened out at 200 meters. 

I met the first camels in the wild and even more donkeys. I also wondered how people could make a living by tending just a few sheep. Or by guarding a single cow all day..

I arrived in Essaouira – known for its wave surfing – where I booked a hotel in the middle of the old city, the kashbah, a place which you can’t reach by car. The hotel was hard to find to start with but once I arrived I could not check in as there was no place to park my bike. Could not even take it to my room. It was in the small print after all: no parking available, but it did not mention bicycles…

No big deal, hotels galore this time of the year, so I quickly found another one. That’s to say, the first one I tried was charging tourist rates, as they were a ‘traditional riad’. I had not seen tourists over the last few days, but here, in Essaouira, it confirmed they were! And if there are tourists, there are also tourist traps like overpriced camelrides on the beach… 

In the evening I returned to the soukh again, biked around and had a good meal – with real beer – in a European run restaurant, just outside.

Next stop Imsouane, half way to Agadir.

Morocco

Tanger surprised me! I expected an Egyptian like city, but Tanger had clean streets, looked organized and even the many lawns were all meticuously cut by teams of gardeners with bushcutters.

The soukh in the old medina still had the old Arabic atmosphere, but other than that Tanger was much like Amsterdam🙂

Sunrise, daybreak starts in january at 0830 in Morocco. They should be on Greenwich time, their Atlantic coast is at the same longitude as Cornwall in the UK! Well, ok, you get sunset in return at 1900, it is all give and take.

I left for my first Moroccan cycling day at 9, after 10 kilometres I cleared the hussle of the city. I navigated the national routes to avoid the real highway, so you pass through villages and settlements.

I was heading southwest, looking forward to be stopped by the Atlantic Ocean. But I stopped for supplies first, as you never know.

Hardly any wind, so the Atlantic was at ease. I parallelled the ocean for many kilometres,

ducked under the highway again and was passed by a TGV train overhead. The first high speed train in Africa, now connecting Tanger to Rabat, but to be continued to Casablanca.

I really enjoyed the high quality biking route, 4 lanes, shoulders to bike on and hardly any traffic.

My navigaton had given up though;  as a Dutch cheapskate I bought a Moroccan simcard, with limited internet data. MapsMe helped me out – it is a standard practice for me to download map data for the country I visit which you can use off line. Be autonomous!

Unlike Tanger, villages were messy and full of garbage. A matter of priorities I guess, they were probably more busy surviving this environment they were living in than cleaning it up.. The economy in this areas is driven by horses, horsecarts to be exact, the only thing moving seen.

It became all more rural, cows and sheperds appeared in the scenery; along the road fruit, vegetables and pottery were sold. Tempting to buy, but I really couldn’t take anything any more on the bike.

I was guided off the coast for a small detour – and climb – in the Atlantic hills, very much like the Limburg gradients. Zooming down from the hills I passed the (former) saltpans of Lagrange.

Larache, a city I never heard off, but still pretty big and selling upgrades for simcards.

With the navigation problem solved I could continue to Riad des Oiseaux, a very small hotel in the middle of an agricultural area with those awful plastic greenhouses.

The 6 room riad on the lake was some nature thing for birdwatchers; when I arrived I was the only guest – and not even a birdwatcher!

Worst of all however was the entry road; 2.5 kilometres of sand and mud… I did not expect to end up in the middle of nowhere, with nothing around me but nature.

The lady caretaker – who only spoke Arabic, not even a word of French – cooked me a tahin meal, solid Moroccan food. My lucky day in the end when I found some wine…

Breakfast ready at 8, so I could hit the dirtroad by 0830. More workers were walking – and biking – this road, it took me 20 minutes. A quiet sundaymorning but foggy unfortunately. Roads were ok again, the bad parts you found in the villages.

All in all it was relaxed biking, especially when the sun finally beat the fog by 12. As I progressed well I decided to continue to Rabat which extended my trip to 140k, still within my (flexible) limits. And met my first camels!

Nearing Rabat the coast is a mix of beaches and rocks, impressive. Many seashore apartments are being built ( some go for 75000 euro) but this area is not for me.

I booked a riad in Rabat, actually it was Sale, the older part of Rabat next to the busy traditional soukh

and the very upscale marina with lots of restaunts. Found mysellf a great place with one of the best steaks ever!

The view from the riad was great but I gave myself little time to enjoy is. The French riad owner wished me luck with 2 days of rain coming up. How pessimistic can you be..

Toured royal Rabat as a tourist for a few hours, also looking for a bike mechanic to do some break maintenance (in vain) biked the boulevard, before continuing the 100 k ride.

It was not until coming up Casablanca I joined the ocean again. Tried to find a bike shop on the way to my hotel and found (sounds easy) a guy, Karim, who promised to fix it next day, my rest day. Hotel – not by chance – in walking distance to the soukh and main square, my evening was filled!

Bike is now fixed, front break pads were gone completely, rear 50% left, after less than 1000 k. As you don’t find brake pads at every corner in Casablanca the repair took time, it was a good time though with Karim and I practised my French. Bike got a good cleaning as there was still a lot of Spanish mud in the nooks and crannies. Now having lunch opposite the bike shop, Karim looks after the red camel.

Still no rain leaves plenty of time to bike the city. Especially here, as a biker, you have to claim your space, else you never get nowhere. I like the roundabouts which might look daunting, but it is great to beat the traffic🙂

Now a day of planning for the rest of the trip, heading south, that has already been decided.

the red camel trip

I am on the move, on the bike again. Started a few days ago actually, after flying into Sevilla. If I see a chance to escape an unpredictable Dutch winter, I go for it.

On last year’s Iberian roadtrip (by car) I passed Tarifa, the port to Tanger, Morocco. That got stuck in my mind and after combining and evaluating everything I booked a flight into Sevilla just over a week ago, to bike Jerez, Cadiz, Tarifa, cross over to Tanger and tour Morocco via Casablanca, Agadir and Marakech, some 1600 kilometres/1000 miles I figured. As my made-to-measure carbon printed Superstrata bike finally arrived I was looking forward to take it for the trip. Hopefully I am able to show my ‘red camel’ the desert…

The red camel bike is kind-of an experimental bike and as such not really designed for a bikepacking trip, so I started adjusting. The crankset had to be changed – as it was defunct – I went for a proven leather Brooks saddle, changed the steer, the grips, changed the pedals into cleat pedals, mounted indestructable, slightly oversized Schwalbe tyres, added a made to measure luggage rack (thanks Bert!), headlight clamp, smartphone mount – as I use the phone for navigation – and a few more things which I probably forgot to mention. I will travel light, (bike) clothing for the 3 weeks is less than 4 kilos, including the bag.

Flying out of Amsterdam on a Sunday morning went like a breeze, I was through all checks in less than 40 minutes, that included checking the bike!

Arrival Sevilla was the same. Prepared the bike, as they want you to take the pedals off, turn the steer 90 degrees and deflate tyres. Transavia is happy (so am I) with a plastic bike cover for packing, KLM wants a cardboard box which is a nuisance. And costly.. Anyway, before realizing – as it was only an hour biking to downtown Sevilla – I was enjoying lunch and ready for 2 days of sightseeing. I travel together with Gabrielle, my better half, and she would go her own way later in the week. This type of biking is not for her..

Next day was planned for Cadiz via Jerez, 125k. Did not leave very early, sunrise was only at 8 o’clock. Joined the Sevilla rush hour, biking between bank men on electric steps in Armani suits over the many bike paths and viaducts.

Foggy morning though, cycling rural roads which got so rural that it stopped my bike: mud clogged up everywhere and everything, wheels, gear, brakes. Struggling for a few hours until finally a truck passed by, the first of the day. They were mecanics from the Electric Light Company on a maintenance trip.

They gave us- bike and myself – an 8 kilometer ride into the civilised world. Having arrived a guy showed up with a hose to clean the bike; it took him nearly half an hour to rinse all the fatty and already hardened clay away and wettened more than I had wanted☹️

Worst of all: my iphone had ran out of power as it did not charge any more because of moist detection during the mud trip. No navigation. So I followed the national route – 80 k – to Jerez, on the signs. And no more pictures either ☹️

Sun was already down for a few hours when I arrived Jerez. Without navigation I did not want to traverse the national park to Cadiz where Gabrielle expected me. No working phone meant I had disappeared for the world, I could not be traced either. The only digital trace I left were the payments I made for coffee and water at gas stations along the way and which showed up on our common bank account.. Decided to cheat and I headed for the Jerez station to board the train for Cadiz. Bikes travel free.. After an uneventful 40 minute ride with twelve stops, I let Gabrielle know – with my payment for coffee – in which bar I was and where we could meet. We had dinner at 10, even late for Spanish standards.

drying out my shoes from the previous day

After an easy sightseeing day in Cadiz, visiting the impressive underground remains of the 3000 year old Fenician settlement, we concluded with a great tuna dinner.

I continued to Tarifa, a smooth ride through some hilly terrain , against the wind. Tarifa is a surfers hotspot – hence the wind – stretching for a few kilometers along the coast.

It has an old center, small, and is port of departure for the 42 knot fast ferry across the Gibraltar strait to Tanger.

Tarifa is also famous for its whale watching: dolphins, orcas (june – september, in case you are interested) and humpbacks. The Strait is even used by great white sharks to traverse to the Mediterranean.

huge mural

That evening I skipped the small ticket line and booked on line, convenient, that’s what I thought. Did not work which I found, when I checked in. Obtained a new ticket at 0845, to sail at 9.

Tanger arrival

On arrival bought a Maroccann sim card, cycled up to Decathlon to get new bidons. Tanger traffic is chaotic and traffic rules are used as they fit you. My style🙂 I booked the Rembrandt hotel, – Rembrandt, of all names – and spend the rest of the day as a tourist in Tanger.