Dodging landslides, fallen rocks and often having to ride up the wrong side of the dual carriageway (not even causing the oncoming Moroccan drivers to blink
) we rode past the ever-expanding port-du Tangers, a massive new commercial ferry and transporter ship port that the Moroccans hope will make them into the gateway to Africa, then took shelter in a cafe for lunch just as the heavens opened again.
We stayed there for half an hour, then set off along a 6 mile piste that we use to assess how people can ride...everyone shot along it as if they were on tarmac, so we knew this trip was going to be special
A mile or two after the end of the piste, and on a drying twisty road that we were starting to make progress on, I suddenly found that the back of the bike was overtaking the front....after fishtailing quite violently a couple of times, I managed to pull on the the side and was instantly engulfed in a massive cloud of smoke.
The oil cooler on the DR , or more exactly, the feed pipe to it, had let go, dumping all of the oil onto the exhaust and rear wheel
A bit of bodgery pokery later, we'd stemmed the flow and refilled it, so we set off again, me rather tentatively at first until the totally covered rear felt a little more planted...it was an interesting half hour
A little further on, I chose the left hand fork of what was , 6 months previously, a different way around a reservoir, but after a mile, we found that the fording opportunity was a bit extreme
without further incident, we go to Chefchaouan, again in the pouring rain, and
sorted ourselves out at the Hotel Madrid, a seedy but interesting hotel that (unusually for one we stay at), only has on-road parking....It does have an overnight guardian who we know we can trust though, so after grabbing the luggage , everyone headed off to check out their pink-nylon four poster beds, as loved by Garfield on a previous trip
Absolute class;