Enjoying this immensely - encore! 
ballistic's Moroccan Revenge
- Thread starter ballistic
- Start date
Don't make me shudder
I bet you actually found it a doddle...it was only those exceptional flash floods which did for us finishing it on your previous trip
Deleted account W
Guest
Great stuff, keep it coming 
peejay
Registered user
Mr K
Registered user
ive led such a shelterd life
Did I not give yiz a text by text account of this?
Or were you not paying attention?
chad
Registered user
yeah but its better with picsDid I not give yiz a text by text account of this?
Or were you not paying attention?
Sorry Bill... had to go and have a cold shower and a lie down 
Thu 15 Oct
The Bikershome ( http://www.bikershome.net ) is a great place, owned and run by Dutchman, Peter and his Moroccan wife Zineb. There’s a wonderfully laid-back attitude (what else would you expect from a Dutch-African marriage?) and they have a fridge full of beer and a large garage, kitted out with most of the equipment you’d need for working on your bike, or 4WD, for that matter...
Peter has a couple of dozen new and used tyres of various sizes, and we found a Metzeler Tourance which fitted Ted’s rear wheel perfectly... why he didn’t fit one in the first place?, I don’t know, maybe because he couldn’t get a matching one for the front. Anyway, 30 mins of grunting and sweating and it was fitted...
And this was what came out of the old tyre...
Tyre problem solved... it was time to go for a run. We went to the desert behind the film studios and had a look at the impressive fort/castle... impressive when you discover that it’s constructed from glass-fibre on a scaffold-type frame...
A quick stop for lunch at the tourist-trap they call Ait-Benhaddou and we carried on up the valley to have a look at a steep, rocky climb. Ted had been warned specifically by Wrong Way not to let me persuade him to have a go at this, but I convinced him that we could ride up as far as the rocky section and then walk the bikes across one by one. Unfortunately, he dropped his bike before we got to the bad bit... you'll have to squint...
So, we had to turn around and retrace our steps back to Ait-Benhaddou, and across the deserty bit to Ouarzazate and a couple of cold beers, a good fast blast...
When we got back to The Bikershome, a couple of other bikers had arrived... it was Gareth.. remember him?... Salamanca?... he was on a 650 V-Strom and Brendan was on a KTM 990 Adventure. An excellent night’s chat ensued, we all squeezed in round the dinner table and Peter got quite animated about “The mad mullah in the tower, screaming at 6:00 in the morning.” If you stay there... don't mention religion... I mentioned it once, but I think I got away with it
Thu 15 Oct
The Bikershome ( http://www.bikershome.net ) is a great place, owned and run by Dutchman, Peter and his Moroccan wife Zineb. There’s a wonderfully laid-back attitude (what else would you expect from a Dutch-African marriage?) and they have a fridge full of beer and a large garage, kitted out with most of the equipment you’d need for working on your bike, or 4WD, for that matter...
Peter has a couple of dozen new and used tyres of various sizes, and we found a Metzeler Tourance which fitted Ted’s rear wheel perfectly... why he didn’t fit one in the first place?, I don’t know, maybe because he couldn’t get a matching one for the front. Anyway, 30 mins of grunting and sweating and it was fitted...
And this was what came out of the old tyre...
Tyre problem solved... it was time to go for a run. We went to the desert behind the film studios and had a look at the impressive fort/castle... impressive when you discover that it’s constructed from glass-fibre on a scaffold-type frame...
A quick stop for lunch at the tourist-trap they call Ait-Benhaddou and we carried on up the valley to have a look at a steep, rocky climb. Ted had been warned specifically by Wrong Way not to let me persuade him to have a go at this, but I convinced him that we could ride up as far as the rocky section and then walk the bikes across one by one. Unfortunately, he dropped his bike before we got to the bad bit... you'll have to squint...
So, we had to turn around and retrace our steps back to Ait-Benhaddou, and across the deserty bit to Ouarzazate and a couple of cold beers, a good fast blast...
When we got back to The Bikershome, a couple of other bikers had arrived... it was Gareth.. remember him?... Salamanca?... he was on a 650 V-Strom and Brendan was on a KTM 990 Adventure. An excellent night’s chat ensued, we all squeezed in round the dinner table and Peter got quite animated about “The mad mullah in the tower, screaming at 6:00 in the morning.” If you stay there... don't mention religion... I mentioned it once, but I think I got away with it
Fri 16 Oct
It was time to leave The Bikershome, a pity really; I could have stayed here for the duration...
We set off out of Ouarzazate on a brand new, twin-lane highway that headed across the hamada towards Tazenacht...
It ended after a few miles, in the middle of nowhere, and turned into a normal gravel track, which we followed through Tazenacht, and then on tarmac to Foum Zguid, where we stopped for lunch, with Friday prayers in full swing at the local mosque...
We set off to find the piste to Zagora and, as it was 75 miles across the desert, decided we’d better top up with fuel first. We arrived at the Afriquia station to find a dozen dirty, smelly Spaniards from Madrid on KTMs waiting for the pump attendant, who was at Friday prayers...
Eventually, he arrived, filled us up and we set off. The first 20 miles, or so, is a wide, graded piste... you can go full pelt along here BUT, every few miles a whole section has been washed away and you have to do a detour, so you have to be very aware when you see little rocks placed on the piste... they are there to warn you of a hazard...
It’s SO dry here; open your mouth when you’re riding along and your mouth dries out instantly, so regular stops are essential to rehydrate... it also helps if you can find some shade...
After the hard piste, there’s a rocky section, then a sandy section and, eventually, a stretch of new tarmac which leads you the last few miles into Zagora. At the junction is the sign to Tombouctou... a photo opportunity if there ever was one...
Zagora is a very touristy place; you get hassle from touts every time you walk down the street and it’s heaving with outfits trying to part you from your cash for a ride on a camel, a quad or a 4x4 and go out into the desert for a night under the stars in a ‘genuine’ Berber tent. For once, we ate in our hotel, the very reasonably-priced La Palmeraie... it had good food, really cold Coke, a swimming pool and a guard on duty for the bikes...
It was time to leave The Bikershome, a pity really; I could have stayed here for the duration...
We set off out of Ouarzazate on a brand new, twin-lane highway that headed across the hamada towards Tazenacht...
It ended after a few miles, in the middle of nowhere, and turned into a normal gravel track, which we followed through Tazenacht, and then on tarmac to Foum Zguid, where we stopped for lunch, with Friday prayers in full swing at the local mosque...
We set off to find the piste to Zagora and, as it was 75 miles across the desert, decided we’d better top up with fuel first. We arrived at the Afriquia station to find a dozen dirty, smelly Spaniards from Madrid on KTMs waiting for the pump attendant, who was at Friday prayers...
Eventually, he arrived, filled us up and we set off. The first 20 miles, or so, is a wide, graded piste... you can go full pelt along here BUT, every few miles a whole section has been washed away and you have to do a detour, so you have to be very aware when you see little rocks placed on the piste... they are there to warn you of a hazard...
It’s SO dry here; open your mouth when you’re riding along and your mouth dries out instantly, so regular stops are essential to rehydrate... it also helps if you can find some shade...
After the hard piste, there’s a rocky section, then a sandy section and, eventually, a stretch of new tarmac which leads you the last few miles into Zagora. At the junction is the sign to Tombouctou... a photo opportunity if there ever was one...
Zagora is a very touristy place; you get hassle from touts every time you walk down the street and it’s heaving with outfits trying to part you from your cash for a ride on a camel, a quad or a 4x4 and go out into the desert for a night under the stars in a ‘genuine’ Berber tent. For once, we ate in our hotel, the very reasonably-priced La Palmeraie... it had good food, really cold Coke, a swimming pool and a guard on duty for the bikes...
Sat 17 Oct
We started with a really enjoyable piste across the Jbel Rhart, from Zagora, through Zaouia Tafetchna (I think) and onto the road towards Nekob...
As I said previously, a GSA is a heavy bike and not happy when the sand is more than a millimetre deep...
For me, today was the big day. I’d been here last year and had a couple of misfortunes trying to ride the trail from Nekob, over the Tizi-n’Tazezert and down to Tinerhir. On the first occasion, one of the bikes had a sudden and total battery failure, causing us to leave it on the trail overnight and ride round to Tinerhir, the long way, by road, at night, in a thunderstorm, up to our thighs dragging the bikes across the swollen Todra river and eventually to our flea-ridden, stinky hotel.
The next day, we sourced a battery and returned (the long way) to recover the dead bike. Unfortunately, I had a front tyre come off the rim and couldn’t get it re-seated. This turned into another night-time saga which resulted in us finding digs in Nekob and a new tyre being brought out the next morning. We never did get to ride “The Valley of Death” as it had become known.
This year it was personal and, with Ted opting to go by road, it transpired that I‘d be on my own, so a last photo was taken at Nekob in case I was never seen again...
It began well; I passed the place where my tyre came off last year, then the place where Allan’s battery had died... I was now on new ground! A small building and an old diesel-driven pump, there was civilization still...
The scenery was dramatic, obviously the plugs of old volcanoes, but the track was easy so far...
Then it started to get steeper, there were rock steps up ahead, I was told, but this section of the trail was still relatively easy...
I met a couple of guys from Hertfordshire who were on their way down... they had come up the tarmac road on the other side, so couldn’t tell me what the track was like down to Tinerhir. However, the rock steps were just ahead so I gritted my teeth, suck a mint and got on with it. I reached to top with no drama, the ‘rock steps’ was just a long, rocky section of track, no steps at all really... was it a disappointment or not?...
It was very different going down the other side... more like sandstone, easier, quicker...
There was even a little traffic in places. Overloaded? Not for Morocco...
Despite being a fast piste, it seemed to take forever to get anywhere... I thought Tinerhir was much closer than this... I kept stopping and checking the map and GPS, the sheer number of different trails made navigation confusing...
It was then that I had my “Experience.” I was motoring down the side of a canyon on a fairly loose, rocky track, when I rounded a corner and headed straight for a large washout. It’s a big bike and takes a lot of ‘persuading’ at times, and I’m a fairly strong bloke, but... I was heading for a big one... I was going over the edge big time... this was, at best, going to damage both me and the bike in a big way. I think I shut my eyes and screamed!
The next thing I know is... I’m back on the trail, under control, haven’t hit anything and I’m riding along as sweet as you like... WHAT HAPPENED?
I got to Tinerhir, found Ted, had a shower and a couple of Cokes and pondered how wonderful it was to be alive... and should I go to prayers in the morning?
We started with a really enjoyable piste across the Jbel Rhart, from Zagora, through Zaouia Tafetchna (I think) and onto the road towards Nekob...
As I said previously, a GSA is a heavy bike and not happy when the sand is more than a millimetre deep...
For me, today was the big day. I’d been here last year and had a couple of misfortunes trying to ride the trail from Nekob, over the Tizi-n’Tazezert and down to Tinerhir. On the first occasion, one of the bikes had a sudden and total battery failure, causing us to leave it on the trail overnight and ride round to Tinerhir, the long way, by road, at night, in a thunderstorm, up to our thighs dragging the bikes across the swollen Todra river and eventually to our flea-ridden, stinky hotel.
The next day, we sourced a battery and returned (the long way) to recover the dead bike. Unfortunately, I had a front tyre come off the rim and couldn’t get it re-seated. This turned into another night-time saga which resulted in us finding digs in Nekob and a new tyre being brought out the next morning. We never did get to ride “The Valley of Death” as it had become known.
This year it was personal and, with Ted opting to go by road, it transpired that I‘d be on my own, so a last photo was taken at Nekob in case I was never seen again...
It began well; I passed the place where my tyre came off last year, then the place where Allan’s battery had died... I was now on new ground! A small building and an old diesel-driven pump, there was civilization still...
The scenery was dramatic, obviously the plugs of old volcanoes, but the track was easy so far...
Then it started to get steeper, there were rock steps up ahead, I was told, but this section of the trail was still relatively easy...
I met a couple of guys from Hertfordshire who were on their way down... they had come up the tarmac road on the other side, so couldn’t tell me what the track was like down to Tinerhir. However, the rock steps were just ahead so I gritted my teeth, suck a mint and got on with it. I reached to top with no drama, the ‘rock steps’ was just a long, rocky section of track, no steps at all really... was it a disappointment or not?...
It was very different going down the other side... more like sandstone, easier, quicker...
There was even a little traffic in places. Overloaded? Not for Morocco...
Despite being a fast piste, it seemed to take forever to get anywhere... I thought Tinerhir was much closer than this... I kept stopping and checking the map and GPS, the sheer number of different trails made navigation confusing...
It was then that I had my “Experience.” I was motoring down the side of a canyon on a fairly loose, rocky track, when I rounded a corner and headed straight for a large washout. It’s a big bike and takes a lot of ‘persuading’ at times, and I’m a fairly strong bloke, but... I was heading for a big one... I was going over the edge big time... this was, at best, going to damage both me and the bike in a big way. I think I shut my eyes and screamed!
The next thing I know is... I’m back on the trail, under control, haven’t hit anything and I’m riding along as sweet as you like... WHAT HAPPENED?
I got to Tinerhir, found Ted, had a shower and a couple of Cokes and pondered how wonderful it was to be alive... and should I go to prayers in the morning?
Sun 18 Oct
I was going to head north towards Tanger today; I had planned to ride home through Spain and France, but not on the motorways... I intended taking the back roads, through the National Parks etc. Ted was having a couple of days exploring the Todra and Dades gorges before heading back to his daughter’s place in Spain. I wheeled the bike out... the rear tyre was flat. A 4” nail was removed, the hole plugged and my £3.99 from a garage forecourt compressor did its magic again... money well spent. I said my goodbyes to Ted and headed off... 5 miles down the road, I was repairing the puncture again...
This time it held and I was on my way, via the impressive Ziz Gorge, through the beautiful Cedar Forests and onto the coast for the night at Asilah. The only drama was being caught in a speed trap on the road to Tanger... two Policemen tried to flag me down, I waved at them as I went past and then took to the fields for about 20 miles... after all, I’d still got my knobblies on. I rode my bike into the hotel lobby, turned left and parked it in the restaurant... I think it was safe to say that it was out of season, the restaurant wasn’t open that night and I was the only guest...
I was going to head north towards Tanger today; I had planned to ride home through Spain and France, but not on the motorways... I intended taking the back roads, through the National Parks etc. Ted was having a couple of days exploring the Todra and Dades gorges before heading back to his daughter’s place in Spain. I wheeled the bike out... the rear tyre was flat. A 4” nail was removed, the hole plugged and my £3.99 from a garage forecourt compressor did its magic again... money well spent. I said my goodbyes to Ted and headed off... 5 miles down the road, I was repairing the puncture again...
This time it held and I was on my way, via the impressive Ziz Gorge, through the beautiful Cedar Forests and onto the coast for the night at Asilah. The only drama was being caught in a speed trap on the road to Tanger... two Policemen tried to flag me down, I waved at them as I went past and then took to the fields for about 20 miles... after all, I’d still got my knobblies on. I rode my bike into the hotel lobby, turned left and parked it in the restaurant... I think it was safe to say that it was out of season, the restaurant wasn’t open that night and I was the only guest...
peejay
Registered user
How many of those Timbucto signs are there at Zagora??
Mon 19 Oct
I caught the first ferry out of Tanger. My only worry was that the Police had got my number the day before and would pick me up going through passport control. My number plate was dirty anyway and I don’t think the Police were really bothered about much at all...
We jetted away from Tanger... I’d made it...
I arrived at the Honda dealer in Algiceras to get my tyres changed back. Whilst they did that, I went a couple of hundred meters up the road to a bar and had breakfast, mmmm, proper food...
I returned after about 45 mins and the bike was ready and waiting, they’d even jet-washed it for me...
I left the Metzeler Karoos with them, there was plenty of life left, but I couldn’t be arsed carrying them back home. I paid £106, delivered, for the pair in the UK and they performed fantastically well... as good as the TKC80s I’d had on last year. Hopefully, some local pauper (with a GS) will be grateful of them...
So, as this is a Morocco trip report, I’ll just skip through my journey back home, most of which was in the rain anyway... depressing.
Mon night, Bedmar, just north of Granada...
Tue 20 Oct, Molina de Aragon, SW of Zaragoza...
Wed 21 Oct
Crossed the Pyrenees...
Stayed at Agen, France...
Thu 22 Oct
Stayed with friends near Limoges for a couple of nights, and drank...
The weather...
Fri 23 Oct
Visited Oradour sur Glane... NW of Limoges. In 1944, a group of Waffen SS officers wiped out a whole village and burnt it to the ground... it’s been kept ‘as is’ as a memorial...
Sat 24 Oct
Cherbourg ferry...
First thing, on the way home... stop for fish & chips... WONDERFUL... Anyone know where this is?
Unbelievable... it’s warm and dry here... 3 hours later, I’m tucked up in bed.
Night-night ;-)
That's it folks
I caught the first ferry out of Tanger. My only worry was that the Police had got my number the day before and would pick me up going through passport control. My number plate was dirty anyway and I don’t think the Police were really bothered about much at all...
We jetted away from Tanger... I’d made it...
I arrived at the Honda dealer in Algiceras to get my tyres changed back. Whilst they did that, I went a couple of hundred meters up the road to a bar and had breakfast, mmmm, proper food...
I returned after about 45 mins and the bike was ready and waiting, they’d even jet-washed it for me...
I left the Metzeler Karoos with them, there was plenty of life left, but I couldn’t be arsed carrying them back home. I paid £106, delivered, for the pair in the UK and they performed fantastically well... as good as the TKC80s I’d had on last year. Hopefully, some local pauper (with a GS) will be grateful of them...
So, as this is a Morocco trip report, I’ll just skip through my journey back home, most of which was in the rain anyway... depressing.
Mon night, Bedmar, just north of Granada...
Tue 20 Oct, Molina de Aragon, SW of Zaragoza...
Wed 21 Oct
Crossed the Pyrenees...
Stayed at Agen, France...
Thu 22 Oct
Stayed with friends near Limoges for a couple of nights, and drank...
The weather...
Fri 23 Oct
Visited Oradour sur Glane... NW of Limoges. In 1944, a group of Waffen SS officers wiped out a whole village and burnt it to the ground... it’s been kept ‘as is’ as a memorial...
Sat 24 Oct
Cherbourg ferry...
First thing, on the way home... stop for fish & chips... WONDERFUL... Anyone know where this is?
Unbelievable... it’s warm and dry here... 3 hours later, I’m tucked up in bed.
Night-night ;-)
That's it folks
britbike
Registered user
keep it coming this is soooooo much fun
britbike
Registered user
Last post beat me to it - excellent thanks
""I didn’t indulge this year... I hadn’t got the dreaded Montezuma’s yet, and didn’t intend to. It may have been purely coincidence, but last year it hit me shortly after our trip to the square. ""
- apparently the problem is not so much the food, but that they do not have running water, so plates and glasses are just wiped over ready for the next punter - hence
I agree... I got the sh 1 ts after eating in the square last year... didn't eat there this year and was clear all the way through, and we ate on the street most of the time.
I think that one of the greatest pleasures is haved a very needy crap on top of a mountain... maybe that's just me... maybe I'm wierd
peejay
Registered user
Nice one thanks for sharing
Very good report Brian and welldone for finally taming THE VALLEY OF DEATH .I will let others guess where the J Henrys chippy is, that would be far to easy for me, and never forget it,s not an holiday it,s an adventure.
oldrascal
Registered user
What a blast ........
Even tougher than the Gastro Tour. 
Even tougher than the Gastro Tour. 
thanks for that,excellent report.
Every trip out, there's something that sticks in the mind.....We tend to refer to trips by these events....not the dates or anything....the 'Knobby Clarke and Burton's towel' trip, the 'Walt destruction derby trip', the 'Garfield in a pink four poster' trip
Yours was definitely the 'Valley of death' trip Brian....and I'm glad you made it up there this time around......fantastic place isn't it
Yours was definitely the 'Valley of death' trip Brian....and I'm glad you made it up there this time around......fantastic place isn't it
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