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!