MOROCCO BOUND

A Solo Motorcycle Journey to North Africa

11 Sept 2002 (Wednesday)

Camping La Jarales, Fuengirola, Spain (Gold Coast)

Awakened with the sounds of the birds chirping about an hour before daylight, I quietly packed and loaded the bike. (I always pay the night before so I can start in the early, quiet hours of the morn.) I was rolling by 0710. It was a big day. Jumped up on the E15 autostrada that runs along the east coast of Spain and wicked it up. The Spanish highways are fast and wide open, but they don’t like speeders (advice from locals). I ran a steady 120 km/hr (75 mph), except when the strong headwinds hit me. The coastline of Spain between Barcelona and Alicante is a narrow strip of land, heavily populated with the smog to prove it. There is not much arable land between the Med on the left and the Sierras rising steeply on the right. I was unprepared for how dry and arid the land is.

Just south of Alicante I took to the Sierra Nevadas and eased away from the coast. Working my way higher into the mountains I was relieved by the cooler temps. Not wanting to simply blast straight to Malaga, I decided to detour away from the coast and visit Granada, the home of the Alhambra. Not really knowing where I was going I managed to get off the A92 one exit too early, and had a wonderful tour of downtown Granada. Believe me, it is a big city with an amazing bullring in the center of the town. Eventually I found my way and was soon wending up into the foothills overlooking the city.

It was there I learned what it was like to be a foreign tourist in Washington D.C. If you can imagine what it would be like to drive an hour out of your way to visit Washington, arriving in rush hour traffic, then getting lost, but eventually finding your way to the White House, only to be told that they had sold all the tickets for the day hours earlier. That’s what happened to me at the Alhambra. It is the single most spectacular Moorish palace remaining in Europe, but I’ll have to wait to see it another day. I did take the time to buy a souvenir book, but then hit the highway again. The next time I’ll remember to arrive early and dedicate an entire day to visiting the Alhambra. I’m sure it is worth the trip.

Dropping back out of the Sierra Nevadas I quickly was through Malaga and heading to Marbella along the coast. Found a campground that was 400m from the beach and called it a day. I pitched my tent on ground so hard I couldn’t drive my tent stakes into it.

Then I went wandering in pursuit of a cold one. Just outside the campground was a strip mall that contained; the Global Internet Café, the Global Internet Bar, the Global Internet Restaurant, and an all-English rock and roll radio station! It seemed as though all the wait staff at each business were English as well. I realized why half the people in the campground were English! Campground La Jarales is a true Brit paradise. After a quick pint of creamy bitter to wash the road grime from my mouth, I walked down to the beach on the Med. The water was as refreshing as the bitter, after a long day in the saddle. Heading back to the little bit of Britain, I had an amazing dinner of chicken curry and some more cool libations. After logging on and sending an email to Teresa that I was alive, I wandered back to my tent and fell into the sleep of the exhausted. Ahh, I’m finally here.

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