Day 10 09/10/2012: A Pilgrimage To Windy's Wadi and Beyond.
Louis, It was a pleasure to meet you all and a nice surprise which reminded us where we had come from which allowed us speak proper English for an hour or so.
Well, it had to go! The bottle of Spanish brandy I have been carrying in my luggage was finished off last night by the few who have the capacity to knock back a few stiff drinks before bed. MrIfan, Spout, Alan and I see off one of Jerez's finest with a chat and a few jokes in the warm night air. The other three from our group are either too tired or are enjoying some gentleman's relaxation together.
Whatever happened last night didn't affect our appetite for breakfast in the moring. It's one of those buffet breakfasts' again saved only by the fact that we need our energy and that there is always good coffee on offer over here to kick-start our day. It is yet again bread, jams, honey, yoghurt, boiled eggs, and those doughy heavy pancakes. This is okay however Alan is seriously missing his Indian tea
but there is compensation in form of excellent orange juice.
The first stop of the day is only a short ride across town to recapture a minute or two with an old and rudimentary guide to a far away city. It's a place which is out of bounds at the moment but if you fancy going for it follow the direction of the arrow, and don't forget your map and compass.
Me, Dean, rudiemoto, Spout, skygod and Alan.
After being told to remove my crash helmet there's one for the album...
A picture for you Mum.
It's an unusual start to the day after leaving the hotel because we quickly find ourselves riding some very wet roads between some houses and end up ploughing through a muddy unclaimed field (read as flood plain). Falling off here would have resulted in a complete album of embarrassing pictures so, with everyone on their best form there is not a lot to show other than IFan's perspective from yesterday morning...
If it wasn't here it was much the same.
This route turned out to be too much to put up with and we redirected ourselves to a working track, without the hardship, to get on our way. What we are supposed to be doing is following the route which the Boss took with
No Fromage on the day off in Zagora of the first trip and is reported here in this post:
http://www.ukgser.com/forums/showpost.php?p=3107350&postcount=53
We seemed to be riding for quite some time before the Boss stopped us all and announced that this is "Windy's Wadi" and it was here that the incident took place. Once I had had a look around and checked my watch all I could say to the Boss was "this place is a long way from Zagora and you must have ridden very quickly and in a very short time to get here for a crash and a phone call".
Miles from anywhere!
It was true and the Boss proved it by providing the evidence and displaying the remains of Windy's wind screen. This piece of F800GS had been tucked away for posterity and as a landmark for future visits and as a waypoint.
Matt's windscreen had been hidden undeneath a rock and next to a lonely bush: How Moroccan?
Once skygod had replaced the hallowed plastic and cut short my cigar we pressed on. I however decided there was one more photograph worth taking after a short while and stopped on my own for a minute...
I couldn't resist this view nor a moment alone.
It didn't take too long to catch up the second half of the group although there was a reason for that. It would appear that Jono has again gone off piste and there's a minute being taken to determine what has happened...
Was it the bike again?
We are now approaching the hills and mountains again. This shift away from a near desolate valley to an occasionally verdant track gives us something different to look at. I'm guessing that these places are where the rain water from the hills gets soaked up and provides the solutions for the palms and vegetable gardens around here.
As always in Morocco someone always appears out of nowhere to come and see who's here. It's usually children and this time is no different. We were soon surrounded by a small gang of young boys who had come to check us out. They are mostly interested at gawping at us and our bikes but one of them is particularly engaging. This young lad, seen below on my bike, is certainaly going far if he is the given the chance. If Morocco has a school for up and coming comedians then this boy is top of the class...
The Moroccan Bob Monkhouse? He is a highly entertaining and engaging young man.
We didn't hang around too long with those boys because Gary already had a semi-on and it was decided that we'd be better off doing some more motorcycle riding than having one of our own getting himself into trouble. There is still some riding to to be be done before we arrive at the next Tizi but all that that does is keep us interested and adds to the fun...
I don't know where this is and I suspected few of us do!
All present and correct.
They don't know or care. The same place? Next time I'm going to have to insist that those with camera's set their clocks to GMT to provide the correct time reference for picture reports.
We were up, we were down, it went left, then right and then it stops again for a cigar, a pee and a check of the nav' and all in a place where you would have never expected. This is one of Spout's pictures which perhaps only he thought was worth the walk to demonstrate the remoteness of our current location.
A 30m walk for a piss and photo.
It turns out that we are only half an hour away from what could be considered as the starting point for today's Man's Test. We have arrived at the bottom of a mountain pass known as the Tizi-n-Tazazert and it has been decided that it's a good idea to stop now and take a few minutes to compose ourselves.
Please note the new accomodation which has appeared in the last six months.
It would appear that an entrepreneurial venture has set themselves up here. They have created a carpark and built a small auberge for the travellers who choose to cross the Jbel Sarhro via the Tizi rather than take the longer route through the valley and around most of the mountains. We however were not alone as the foolish few. On the rudimentary carpark three Spanish 4x4's were discussing their next move or merely recalling the times they had just spent driving down the difficult side of the Tizi
"You lot want to try going up the Tizi-n-Tazazert from here!"
There is plenty of space to park although I reckon the rooms would be very intimate.
It's time to get moving. We've had our water, sat in the shade of a bike, forced out another half pint of urine, or just puffed on a small cigar but now we have to face the bone, and bike, breaking mountain pass. So we set off but within minutes we come face to face with another convoy of assorted four wheeled wanderers coming down (the easy way to do it don't forget) the pass. They (mostly French) didn't stop or allow us to maintain our momentum ON THE WAY UP and forced us to pull over and wait for them to freewheel their way down the track. They pissed off most of this group because only one or two out of ten bothered to acknowledge our presence. Next time it will be different and we'll make them give way to those going uphill on two wheels.
Once we had cleared the unfriendly Frenchies there was a free run up the hill. It's not actually a hill and it's not a run but more of a mountain climb over slabs of rock and stone, at least for the first part. This means that we didn't do it all in one go and had a stop half way up to catch our breath, take on some water and inspect our bikes. It turns out that KTM rear mudguard attachments are poorly positioned because Alan's number plate has gone missing somewhere along with an indicator. That's the second time this year that has happened and a third was severely damaged. Thankfully all the bikes are still running and rideable although I'm not sure that the case for all of the riders.
From here it was the final push to the top, and a short video...
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When we get to the top there is a small place to stop for a picture, a fizzy drink (not champagne), and a sit down. First a few snaps from the chaps of the veiwing point...
Spout's HP2.
My TT600RE.
The Boss, showing off again.
Now be upstanding for the Hotel & Restaurant Tizi-n-Tazazert...
A welcoming invitation.
The carpark.
The dining room.
The courtyard.
After a little rest it was time to get a move on because we still had some way to go to get to our hotel for this evening, and I don't even remember having lunch today (?). The ride down the pass is much easier because there is a modicum of tarmac skimmed over the former piste but you do have to be careful because there is a lot a of gravelly patches and pot holes.
We're going to Ait Youl for our rooms tonight and will pass through Boumaine Dades, a name some of you will recognise with a particular gorge. It's a bit of a relief to arrive here after such a long day on the pistes and Tizi's because I know it will not be long before we are given some tea, or coffee, and if we are lucky a beer.
Mr Ifan has been here for a while and is now bored so he comes to meet us when we arrive but...
...we're not the only Brit's here. There are some 4x4 crews who have turned up before us and eventually we have to agree to talk to them for a while. What we really want is a drink other than warm water and we eagerly await a pot of mint tea...
No tea yet.
...and probably some orange juice with tomorrows breakfast:
After
ANOTHER tagine dinner and some of the Spanish boxed wine we brought with us (Should that be smuggled?) it is a fact that bedtime is starting to call a little bit earlier for most of us by now. What this means is that eventually the last remaining two have to concede that enough is enough and we have nothing else to talk about and go to our rooms to terminate the proceedings for today. Well, I suppose it's a wise move because tomorrow we are going to need our strength for another long day and another Man's Test at the end of that day.