He Says – F*&**& Me! AFRICA!!!!

31 Aug . – 01 sept 09

We left Alison and Andy’s early, having suffered no lingering effects of my previous day’s malady. After staying with such great people, it felt like leaving home, (Thank you AGAIN so much for al you did for us guys!!). We shot down to Tariffa, skipping La Lineia and Gibraltar as it was cloudy and there would not have been any views anyway.

We stopped at 3 ticket booths on route, to get tickets for the ferry, but nobody was selling them. At last we had luck on 4th try where we also found out we only had 25 min of road time to go and 1.5 hours before departure. No worries!

Tarifa is a little slice of southern California in Spain. Everywhere you looked it was surfer this or wind-surfer that or kite surfer such and not a lot else. We got some lunch and cash before heading to the docks. We made it with about 15 min to spare. It was off to Africa!!

The ferry over was a ship made in Tasmania (a Devilcat) and is infamous for its maiden voyage ending up on the rocks, being driven by its owner/designer who was drunk behind the wheel. So many a joke was bantered back and forth. Shortly after setting off we went through passport control on ship. I was waiting behind a kiwi couple, eventually we started talking and it turned out that they live in Morocco and gave us their contact details.

What we did not do was read all the stuff Tim Culis had posted about getting the bike though customs. We did every thing wrong, but we did not pay anyone anything. It took us about 1.5 hours but it was kinda fun. After that we head into the depths of Tangier.

That was scary! Drivers and road rules have never met. The only rule is a giant game of Chicken. There were only 2 lanes but up to 6 rows of cars. As a bike we had no rights and cars and trucks would drive directly at you. We had to move or be driven over. It was just the way it was. It was just bloody scary!

Somehow we found our way out, and more amazingly we did it without a wrong turn. We found the road to Asilah. It was almost proof that fate favours the fools as we were unharmed by the insanity that is driving in Tangiers.

Now that we were “safe” and I could think about things other then getting run down, all I could think was wow (well actually f*&k me) Africa!! I don’t know how I felt. It was some where between, excitement and what the? and huh? and..wow camels..and where are we and f*&k me were on a bike in Africa and huh,, a bike… and look a donkey..ahhh!!! truck!! on my side of road coming right for me…and where are we.. Taxi is gunna hit us.. where are we.. huh Africa.. and wow we made it to AFRICA!! f*&k me Africa.!!! Huh??……. Well you get the idea.

We stopped on the beach outside of town to eat out Spanish tortilla and pan (bread) away from the eyes of the Ramadan celebrating locals. It is acceptable for us as non- Muslims to eat, but in my humble opinion it is just mean. During lunch we watch a cow being taken for a walk on the beach and in the surf. I ceremoniously ripped off the GB sticker from the Anubis.. NOW We are running completely AUSSIE.. VIVA DE REPUBLIC!

Not long after our lunch and on really good roads we found the town of Asilah. I hit the wall.. I was tired and grumpy and was almost willing to take any hotel irrelevant of price. Tam had her head on and found us a nice(ish) reasonably priced hotel. To quote M. Palin “ a shower, a shave and a clean shirt later I was new man” and ready to hit the streets, but that took time as the chores like GPS programming and laundry need to get done first.

Eventually, we spent the evening wandering the immaculately clean streets of the medina, which was painted completely white with accents of colours. This medina is famous for its “colourful murals” painted on the some of the houses, however this was predominantly blue on white. These are not as common as was suggested but the splashes of occasional colours added an additional air of beauty. Asilah was supposed to be a resort town, but except for the odd out of town big hotel there was little resorty about it.

We had our first Moroccan meal under the shadow of the medina wall. Being Ramadan, we waited until the cancellation call before eating. Every night at 1850h a horn sounds followed by a prayer over a megaphone signifying the end of the daylight and the break of the fast. Most of the Moroccans in the restaurant had already placed their order and were tranquilly waiting for the call. What surprised me most was that most people (at least in our restaurant) only ordered a small soup, a hardboiled egg, a few dates, and a few sweet-deep-fried-biscuit followed by a glass of orange juice, and nothing else. Only a couple people had plate upon plate of food.

We both loved this small city and could have happily stayed for a few more days, but we knew that we would have to move on to the real cities if we were to get a sense of the people and Morocco. So early the next morning we packed up Anubis and pulled him out of his first stay in a hotel (which was technically a unused restaurant).

Our first destination was Lixus a port town that was built on the site of a Roman temple city, home to a sun-worshiping cult. The ruins of the central Roman city were still there. It was a wild place over grown with trees and bushes. It did not however hold any of the mystery and magic that one would expect. It did, however, house swarms of mosquitos and (for lack of better word) midges that where so large, numerous and dense they you could hear them from 2-3 metres away. Three young goat herders watched us with a bored intensity as we scrambled over the site. We did our best to ignore the constant buzzing and bites and enjoy the site, but the combination of insects, the watchful eyes and the lack of magic resulted the visit only lasting a hour or so. Once back on the road we headed for Fez.