Basingstoke to Dakar

Hi Jim,

You're definitely better off going via Santander - as of tomorrow, Friday, night there's going to be a bucket load of snow in the Pyrenees - not sure about Cantabria so check your favourite weather station there!

Simon
 
Weather.

Thanks Simon, I think I'll be OK to Santander. OK meaning rubbish weather, rain and cold. This is where the goretex liners and outer waterproofs, which have been in the topbox for 4 weeks have come into their own. It's been a trip of extremes but happy to miss out on snow.
 
Good to know you're prepared - keep well to the west on your way up, crossing the Sistema Central you'll find snow but that's better than the 'Levanter' wind!

I see that the cities on the Straits had some hairy weather last night!

Take care, have fun :)

Simon
 
Jim
This is a great read really enjoying it and fab photos
Cheers
Eddie
 
I see you have done some big trips the last few years Jim.
The Croatia 09 was just a warm up trip.
Great Report take care.
 
Just spotted this, have now real all six pages...fantastic stuff, stay safe and enjoy



Chris
 
Thanks again guys, you are gluttons for punishment. Yes Fuddy, 2009 was the start of it, good memories. Not done a tour with 22 people since though!

Anyway, more to come if I can load it up on this weak wifi. Photos will have to wait till home.
 
Agadir and onwards north

After a 2nd damp day around Agadir I decided to go for a gap in the weather and head off to Marrrkesh. I'd booked a Riad on the edge of the Medina so parking the bike nearby would be possible. I started off in the dry, just with the goretex liner in the jacket. When I travelled this motorway a month earlier I'd hit 40C as I came down from the hills towards Agadir. This time it was around 20C, quite a change. As I climbed however it got even colder and I started picking up spots of rain. When I stopped for petrol I realized how cold I was and went in for a coffee and to warm up. When I set off again I had on full waterprooofs. The rain was not heavy but the temperature was about 12C so I needed the waterproofs to keep warm. The traffic in Marrakesh was busy but I just had to remind myself to take it easy and not start competing with the locals. The GPS took me to within 75 meters of the riad, and as close as you could get on a bike. I parked up and of course a local appeared, to be my guide to the riad. It probably was helpful having him cos the building had no external markings and I probably have wandered around for a while trying to find it. The riad owners had picked out a secure parking area and I was happy to park the bike for a few days. The riad was more elabouratly decorated than previous ones I'd stayed in, but not the easiest place to live in. Much of the ground floor was taken up with a cold swimming pool, not much of an asset in the current cool temperatures and something you had to tiptoe around to get to dining tables etc. The owners were a lovely couple and very helpful and I was later to draw on this helpfulness in full measure.


Once I'd got unpacked I was keen to go for a walk and particularly see again the famous square the Jema el Fna. Now the last time I was in Marrakesh the weather was agreeabley warm and I wondered what it would be like in these chilly and damp conditions. Before I left the riad the owner had asked me to fill in the police form as part of registration and I had taken my passport down with me from the room to fill the form on my way out. Once the form was completed I tucked the passport into my rucksack and headed off to the square. This riad was a fair walk to the square and took about 20 mins, past some stalls and shops so the time did not seem long. Susprisingly the square was quite lively even in the damp conditions. I had a wander around listening to the musicians, *spotting the henna tattoists and the various informal stalls. Before venturing into the souk I stopped for a soup. It came up steaming and was just what I needed, in fact I had a 2nd bowl. The cost was 6 dhinar, just less than £0.50, or £0.25 a bowl, there are mostly locals at this stall and I enjoy sharing the meal with them and not just with a lot of tourists(like myself). Now with soup inside me, I was in better from to explore the souk. Although it was dark there was enough of it open to keep me interested. I was not in a buying mood, just wandering, but the guys tried to get me to come into their shops. The level of pressure in Marrakesh in the souk I normally don't find a problem and is a lot less than that in St Louis in Senegal. Because of my grey beard I get called Ali Baba, which I feel in generally meant affectionately, but they will try anything to get your attention. I do have fun with the guys trying to find which country I come from, as Ireland is not on their normal list. Having had my fun and a good wander I was ready for a tagine on the main food stalls.*


Now the pressure here to choose their stall is pretty high but good humoured. Who could resist a guarantee of no diarrhoea, for 2 years! I generally look to see which food stall is well patronised and found one which had a good cover agains the rain and I tucked myself into the corner and had the chicken tagine and Moroccan salad. The food was excellent and just what I needed, to feel I had arrived in Marrakesh. After the meal the rain had got heavier and I went home after a further quick tour around the square. With the changeable weather that evening, I was taking a jacket, and sometimes an umbrella, in and out of the rucksac, in hindsight not the best thing to be doing in this dark and crowded square.


After breakfast next morning I went my rucksack and tried to lighten it before going off to explore Marrakesh again. Initially I could not see my passport, but this rucksack is infamous for hiding black things, so I emptied it out on the bed. The passport was not there. I then wondered if I had taken it out when I got home the previous evening, so searched the room. No passport, not good. I wondered if I had relaxed a bit too much having arrived on the familiar ground of Marrakesh and not applied the care I had given to documents on my journey further south. I spoke to the riad owners and they were not encouraging it may be found and handed in. This was Sunday so I was not sure what I could do. I searched the internet and found the nearest Irish Consul was in Casablanca, and as I planned to return via Casablanca this was positive news. I dropped them an email alerting them to the fact I may have a problem. I was not however aware of the procedure to get a replacement. I did wonder if the passport may have been found and handed in and asked the riad owners who I should ask. They suggested the Gendarme in the square and I went off to talk to him.


He gendarme directed me to a building on the other side of the square which I think was called the Commesariat. It looked like a city building, housing admin and police and I spoke to someone there who directed me to an office. This was not an appealing place. It semed to be where various people in distress would come or were held temperarilly. There were 2 teenagers behind the first counter when I came in, handcuffed together. After waiting an uncomfortable half hour I was approached by a guy and explained my lost/stolen passport. He said I needed to go to the Main police station, to the Bureau des Etrangers. While he may have been right I was not sure it would be open on Sunday and decided to return back to the Riad and discuss options with the owners.


When I thought about it I realized that I would have to formally report the passport missing and spoke again to the owners. The owner, a French guy, said he had lost, or mislaid his passport once, and started down the road of reporting it and he felt I needed to go to the Bureau des Etrangers. He also called a friend who was familiar with the procedure and the friend explained that I needed to do. Take a copy of my passport, a photo ID, and a 20 Dhinar stamp to the prefecture of police and to formally make a declaration that the passport was lost, and they would give me a document confirming the position. I had passport copies and a spare photo ID and after a speaking to the Irish Consulate they confirmed this was what was required, and with this police document, they could give me a temperary travel document. So off I went looking for a 20 Dhinar stamp en route to the Profecture de Police. I went up to office 330 on the 2nd floor, and all the seats were taken, this will take a while. Everything was calm but it was not clear who was being processed and who was waiting. After a while I realised there was no clear system.*An official would be dealing with someone, he would spot another person and start a discussion with them, then another official would interupt and a further case would be discussed. I decided to stay active and try and catch someones eye. A guy spotted me and gave me a form to fill in. I was pleased to have all the documentstion needed for decleration. Before leaving England I had spend a fortune, £20+ on photocopies but not for the first time I concluded it had been worth it. Having completed the form the guy looked around the room and said it may be tomorrow but I could come back in the afternoon, but he gave me no commitment that it would be ready.


Nothing for it but to go back to Marrakesh, be a tourist for a while and return. When I came back there were less people in the office, but also less officials. Eventually someone asked me what I wanted and found my form, unprocessed. He put on a pile on a desk and I moved to sit in front of the desk. There was no official at the desk and after some time the first guy came to the desk and began processing my form. I suspected it was not his main role as he struggled with the computer but he was helping me and we were making process. He had some english and we chatted as he worked. He thought my bike trip on my own was crazy, but ironically it was walking around Marrakesh I'd encountered the biggest problem of the trip. During this time a gentleman came into the room and all the officials immediately stood to attention. This was clearly the boss and it reminded me these officials were police officers, even in their casual plain clothes. The boss spotted two clients who did not have visitors badges so the officials spent the next 10 minutes taking to reception and getting this sorted. In fact reception was very casual and I had walked in without getting a badge that morning though I had one this afternoon. Anyway, he got back to the job in hand and finished processing and gave me the precious document.


I went back to the riad and sent a copy to the Casablanca Consul. They explained that they had to get approval from the Embasy in Portugal, who look after Morocco. I said I'd travel on Tuesday evening to Casablanca and visit the Consul on Wednesday morning. The next morning after a last session of being a tourist in Marrakesh, I sat in the square having a coffee and looked forward to coming back to enjoy it all in better circumstances. I travelled that evening to a B and B on the outskirts of Casablanca and had an early night. Next morning I planned to go to the Consul bright and early and I had found a map on the internet with the Consul location, and transferred this into the GPS.


After breakfast I did battle with the commuters into Casablanca and got to the location in good time. I went into an office and asked for directions to the building. When they saw the address the guy frowned and shook he head. This was not to be as easy as I thought. I asked if it was far and he said yes, and suggested a taxi. I had parked the bike well outside and it semed a good place to leave it, so I agreed. The guy started to chat to others in the office and he then came to me with an alternative suggestion. One of his colleagues would show me the way on his scooter and I could follow on the bike. This was great and I thanked him. I asked if a 20 Dhinar note would be an appropriate tip to give his colleague and he looked shocked and said that would not be necessary. So off we went, through the Casablanca traffic. When we got to the right area, the guy on the scooter asked a number of people for directions before finding the correct building. I was very grateful and thanked him. He even spoke to the parking guardian and told him to keep an eye on my bike. At this he gave me a wave and rode off, not looking for a tip. The phrase used by Kate Aidie, "The Kindness of Strangers" came into my head.*


Now the building was nothing to shout about, it was a dark*office block and there was nothing on the outside to say the Irish Consul had offices there. I knew the office was on the 5th floor so went for the lift. There were no lights and while I considered this, a pregnant lady passed me and confirmed it was not working. So to the stairs. I counted as I went up but had not allowed for the continental system of counting the 1st floor as 0. I had 6 floors to climb. I found the office and was soon shown into the office of the lady I had been in communication with, she was Moroccan and did not have a trace of an Irish accent. She smiled but explained she was expecting me tomorrow and she had not recieved approval for the travel document from the embassy in Portugal. This was a blow but I had a sense this may not be the final answer so sat on and wondered if that approval may still come. I explained that I was under some pressure with booked ferries and needed to leave Morocco tomorrow and needed the document today. She said she would phone. She called her colleague in Portugal and spoke in English. The conversation was a mirror if the French and Arabic conversations I had heard from Moroccans have since I arrived. They call for a business purpose but first must exchange pleasantries, ask about respective families, etc., before getting to the business. In this case she followed this pattern but on putting down the phone she seemed encouraged that we may get a positive result with the travel document. What I was convinced about was that my best chance of getting this document today was to be sitting in front of her desk. In fairness she did not ask me to leave either, and I stayed, wishing her phone to ring with the approval. She also explained that the Consul offices had moved and it seems likely the map I had used was for the old address. The joys of old information on the internet. She had to send a further email chaser but in time the approval came. There was a discussion about the limits of the document I would get, it was just for 3 days, and just for one journey, i. e. from Morocco to Spain. As this was my priority I was happy with that. The person in the embassy said that if I needed to travel further I would have to visit the embasy in Madrid for another temperary document. I needed to reflect on this news but first get out of Morocco.


With the flimsy travel document in my pocket I set off north. I soon regretted not stopping at the first service station I saw, as it was also the last one before I hit the motorway. I noticed that around Moroccan cities there are not so many service stations on major routes out to motorways etc. Anyway in this case I had to take the next exit to find fuel. Precious time lost. I had 2 options in mind for where to stay that*night. One was Larache, further up the west coast and the other was Tetouan a bit further and closer to the frontier. I felt I could make Tetouan and go over to Spain tomorrow via Couta. As the journey progressed I thought again. I was making good time*and I had a following wind and no rain and I wondered if I could get to Spain today. The GPS said I would get to the Couta border about 16:00. I thought I may take about an hour to get throught, allowing some time to discuss my strange "passport". This seemed a bit tight to get up to the port and get a ferry before dark. What to do? I then thought of another option, what about using the other route, Tangier Med. As I had not used it before it was a bit of an unknown but most of this trip had been breaking new ground so why not. Well my return ticket was from Couta, but what of it, if I had to buy an extra ticket then it would be worth it to get to spain today. I searched the GPS and after some time found a waypoint for Tangier Mad and we were on the way, with a good road right up to the terminal. I also suspected the officials at Tangier Med may be more on the ball and ready to accept my unusual passport. We would see.*


Tangier med is a very modern port. I was checked on the way in by a policeman, bought a ticket, and went forward to the police booth. They looked at my document for a few minutes but accepted it, to my relief, and sent me forward to customs. Customs was easy and suddenly I was in the queue for the ferry. Another document check and a phone call but soon I was on the ferry. I was told the ferry was due to leave at 17:00 but it left at 18:00 and it started to rain on route. This seemed a particularly slow ferry taking about 90 minutes to cross. We landed in rain and queued 30 minutes to get out. The Spanish police accepted the document immediatly and I was in Spain, in the rain, did I mention the rain? I was bucketing down and of course dark now. I had full waterproofs with me and these were invaluable both to keep the rain out but to try and keep me warm. Unfoftunatly I only had light gloves handy and these soon got sodden. I did have a better set of gloves *buried in a pannier and a pair of waterproof mittens. *While on the boat I had put in locations for hotels in Jerez and Seville but with the delays and the rain I quickly abandoned the idea of getting to Seville as too far and aimed for Jerez, about an hour away. The rain remained heavy on this unlit motorway and I opted to follow the traffic. A well lit lorry blazed a trail for me for much of the route until he pulled off. When I got to Jerez I followed the GPS to the hotel I had marked which I had seen was in an area of other hotels. I didn't find the first hotel so went down a side street and saw a hotel sign on the corner, halleluia! It was now 22:00 and still bucketing down. After parking up I went in. Have you a room, yes. How much, 30€. Do you have parking, yes 9€. Do you have wifi, yes. This conversation could not have gone better and soon the bike was parked up in a dry garage, and I was in a cosy room. A big day, quite a day. Started the day in Morocco with no travel documents and tonight I'm tucked up in a room in Spain. Those of you have read from the beginning may remember my frustration at the difficulty in getting Euros in Dakar and that I had calmed myself down remembering this was all part of the trip. I have to say it was not so easy to be so physophical this time with the disappearing passport. Of course this was all part of the trip but when I was in the middle of sorting out the passport it generated a lot of frustration and it was an effort to remain calm. One factor was that my energy levels were not as high as earlier. I was tired and had a heavy cold. Of course another way to look at it was that this ride report was getting boring and it needed something to liven it up. Whatever, it*all had to be followed through calmly and I still needed to ride a bike safely and get home in one piece.


That night and early morning I thought again on my options going forward. I was booked on a ferry on Sunday, 30th Nov. The travel document expired on Nov 29th. I wondered if there may be an earlier feŕry. I woke early and started searching on the weak wifi. After about 30 mins I got to the BrittanyFerries site sufficienly to see there was a ferry on Sat, Nov 29. I could make that but needed it to be booked by phone. My phone would not allow me to call UK, thanks Vodafone! However in the morning the Saturday ferry was kindly booked for me from UK and I now had to get to Santander and hope my travel document would be accepted. The alternative was for me to stay in Spain a few more days, wait till the embassy opened in Madrid on Monday and get another travel document. I wanted to avoid this trip to Madrid and delay if possible, so hoped the document would work in Santander.*


I won't dwell on the trudge up through Spain in the rain but I dug out my better gloves and the waterproof mitts. Before I left UK I had considered taking a set of muffs with me for this return journey. But the muffs do take up a lot of space, but when I found the mitts in the garage I opted for them as they are light and take up little room. Now I was glad of them but found the best way to use them was not with my proper gloves, but with light gloves inside the mitts. From Jerez I rode 430 km, mostly in rain, and stayed in Placencia in a nice hotel on an industrial estate. No garage for the bike this time and it had to stay out in the rain. Since Agadir the bike had stood outside hotels 7 days in the rain, and each morning it started first time on the button. What a bike! As I was a little distracted on this return part of the trip I needed the bike just to work, and it did magnificiently, one worry I did not have. Next stop was in Palencia in the hotel I stayed in on the way down and I knew it had a garage. This left me just 200km from Santander. One point worth mentioning about riding around Palencia is the white lines on the road. Whatever they are made of they are the slipperiest surfaces, when wet, that I want to encounter. I braked on one white arrow and the front wheel just skidded along. Hitting one of these wet lines on a roundabout was not advisable.*


Leaving Palencia again in the rain I was pleased to find it eased off about half way. I had been admiring the low cloud in the valley riding through the mountains south of Santander but was shocked to emerge from a tunnel into the low cloud. Suddenly I had 75 meters visibility. It did not last for too long but one of those memorable moments. Although I was early I went straight to the ferry terminal to see how my travel document would be recieved. It was recieved with some scepticism and I was asked to park up while advice was taken. I had visions of a trip back to Madrid and a very delayed return. After about 20 minutes I was called over by the check in lady and she said the magic words "You can travel". Sweet words indeed. The ferry parking has a little cafe and I took up residence as the ferry was not leaving for hours. I ordered a coffee got my tablet out and began writing down most of this part of the report. I did not feel I could do the writing till the whole passport issue had been played out and now that I was virtually on the ferry, the time seemed right. In fact there were 2 further checks of the document before I got on board and it passed both. I wonder if I will get stopped at Portsmouth and what the reaction will be?
 
Marrakesh and onwards - photos.

Now that the bike is safely tucked in my garage and I have access to decent wifi, here are a few photos covering Marrakesh and the journey home:-



Jema al Fna is famous for the fresh orange juice stalls. But all that orange juice must result in a lot of squeezed oranges and it's this guys job to collect and remove them.





Not a great picture but it is difficult to take a picture of the snake charmers in the square without them spotting you and demanding a fee.





I had visited the Bahia palace before but I was passing it each day, to and from the square, so as entry was cheap I thought I'd go in and admire the celings once more.





These oranges in the Bahia palace looked ready for picking.





I love the colours of the hats in Marrakesh.





More hats...





Even the storks were suffering in the damp Marrakesh conditions.





The famous Cafe de France an institution in Jema el Fna as featured in:- A Year in Marrakesh - Peter Mayne. Worth a read.





The bike sell secured on the ferry from Tangier Med(Morocco) to Algecires(Spain).





It was a dreary run up through Spain in the rain and nice of the world champion Marc Marquez to come out and encourage me along.





The bike was soaking after a nights rain in Plasencia but still started immediatly.





And finally the bike in it's own little garage on the Santander - Portsmouth ferry.


 
Good stuff.

Glad to see the Irish consulate was helpful (hopefully I won't lose my passport). Did you know that you can (in theory) use any EU embassy? They should look after you as if you were their own. Wouldn't have helped in this situation Ireland had representation in Morocco.

I never really got caught in the rain during my Spanish trip last year, but I did when Austria. To quickly find a cheap hotel, I used the booking.com app on my phone. Found a hotel, booked it and by time I arrived 10 minutes later they were expecting me. Really handy when arriving unexpectedly in towns.
 
Just spotted this. What a wonderful account. You're some boy alright! Congratulations from one paddy to another, you do us proud!
 
Hotel booking...

The suggestion to use Booking.com is an interesting one. It is in fact my go-to booking app. If I am sure where I want to stay that night, I use it to book a hotel before I leave the previous hotel, using the hotel's wifi.

Of course once you have booked a hotel, if something happend to change your mind then you you may be charged for the booked hotel, or feel the need to go to the booked hotel even if it is not ideal for the trip. I use the hotel wifi because I normally do not have internet access on my phone while abroad. So what I sometimes do is use booking.com to check out hotels in a few locations, locate them in my GPS, and then as circumstances change on the road I can be flexible where I stay.

And Pete, thanks for the positive comments. Glad you enjoyed it.
 
Hi Jim,

What a trip! Glad to know you're home safe and sound :)

And what a report - loads of useful stuff there, especially about the value of sorting your coms before you go - I use a Lebara pre-paid phone, no worries and better coverage than Vodaphone/Orange,etc.

I lovd your reference to Kate Adie's book, 'The Kindness of Strangers', which I read earlier this year - showing my age now . . .

Come back to spain and we'll have a good chin-wag and I'll sow you some amazing places . . . just ask GSPOD :)

Simon
 
Hi Jim,

What a trip! Glad to know you're home safe and sound :)

And what a report - loads of useful stuff there, especially about the value of sorting your coms before you go - I use a Lebara pre-paid phone, no worries and better coverage than Vodaphone/Orange,etc.

I lovd your reference to Kate Adie's book, 'The Kindness of Strangers', which I read earlier this year - showing my age now . . .

Come back to spain and we'll have a good chin-wag and I'll sow you some amazing places . . . just ask GSPOD :)

Simon
 
Cheers Simon. Yes, no problems at Portsmouth with the travel document. I had my UK driving lisence to back it up. The customs asked me to wait in the search area while they checked out the document. I was hoping they wouldn't take the chance of asking me to empty the bike for a search. In fact the car in front of me was generating more interest and the owner was taken away in handcuffs being charged with importing drugs. So then a clear run up the M3 to home and a welcome cup of tea.

I'll wrap this ride report up in a few days with more details on the bike and equipment, with my view on what worked well and what didn't. I'm also sorting out the rest of the photos and may add a few more here which I missed first time. I'll also try and summarise my reflections of the overall trip, thoughts on a riding solo, and things I may have done differently.
 
Glad your home safe, but will miss our regular updates.
Thanks for sharing your trip with us, I have an X Country but for medical reasons I have to stick with mainland EU and love a good trip report..
 


Back
Top Bottom