MOROCCO BOUND

A Solo Motorcycle Journey to North Africa

(Marrakech Madness continued)

On the main thoroughfare through town there were 4 lanes in each direction. Cars, trucks, busses, mopeds and all manner of animal drawn carts vied for space on the road. If 8 vehicles could fit abreast, then they would. I literally had to share my lane with any four-wheeled vehicle that wanted it. I was totally focused on spatial awareness of the traffic, and had very little time to look for signs that might indicate a camping ground. I had traveled about half way thru Marrakech and had just about decided to give up and head straight to Ouarzazate when I noticed a moped pacing me to my left. About the 3^rd time I glanced at him, he started yelling something. I finally heard him say “Hotel? Hotel?” over the traffic. At the next traffic light he pulled up and asked if I wanted a hotel, in German! (he apparently noticed the German license plate). I nodded YES and off we went. He slalomed thru traffic and I followed him to my current oasis in the heart of Marrakech, the Hotel Radoune. As we pulled in, he leaped off his moped and dashed into the hotel to claim his prize. He then met me at the door, introduced himself as Abdul, and asked if I wanted to visit the old medina that evening. Overcome by his hospitality, we agreed to meet in one hour. Checking in, unpacking, and humping the gear up three flights of steps went quickly. With the BMW under the watchful eyes of the front desk clerk, I indulged in a wonderful cold shower and a liter of water.

Thus refreshed, I met Abdul and prepared for my first journey into a Moroccan old city medina. He offered to call a cab for us at around a $1 for the fare, or he said I could ride on the back of his moped. What would you have done? Helmetless, jacketless, and with open toed sandals, I climbed onto the rear fender of his ancient moped and prayed that Allah would watch over us. Wow! What a ride.

Slaloming through traffic at 5 to 10 mph, my butt 24” off the ground, eyeball to eyeball with cars, donkeys and truck bumpers. And that was just riding the 6 km to get to the medina! Abdul then left the road, drove straight through the old city gates, and we plunged headlong into an “Indiana Jones does Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride” adventure. Abdul amazed me with his ability to keep his balance with me on the back, navigate the rabbit warren of the medina, predict where people were going to move to, and never back off his speed (which wasn’t that fast to begin with). All of which was done in streets that were barely 2m wide and chock full of boxes, stores, carts, people, animals, and more people. I don’t know how he did it, but he could bank, turn, swoop and dodge things at speed that I thought would take my kneecaps off. We were that close. Combine that with the overwhelming odoriferous mass of humanity enclosed in those tight alleys, and it was a ride to remember! I honestly think it was far better than Deal’s Gap will ever be!

After about 10 minutes of the wild ride, Abdul parked us right outside the main Mosque. As we walked through the arches and into the main square I saw it was full of mothers and hundreds of young children playing. It was just after 9 pm and while the men were in the Mosque in prayers, the mothers and children were outside enjoying the early evening coolness. It tried to be as unobtrusive as possible and only took photos with the natural light. I did not want to use a flash on the grounds of a mosque. But I was noticed anyway, and soon was assaulted by dozens of kids, all wanting their pictures taken too!

It was hilarious. When I showed them their picture on the digital camera, they even went wilder! Soon they were jumping up and down, making faces, trying to do anything outlandish to get me to take their pictures. They were so funny.

But when I felt Abdul gently tug on my arm, I knew it was time to move on. Wandering through the alleys I bought a loaf of pan bread for 1 dirham (about 10 cents). Then Abdul took me to pay the piper…… his favorite store which was probably owned by a relative. There we all partook in the lovely Moroccan ritual of offer and negotiations. It went on for well over an hour and I was truly amazed at how good his friend was. I’ve haggled with sellers in Mexico, Paris, Milan, Cairo, and Bosnia. I’ve done my share of bargaining, but this guy was the best. I didn’t even want to buy anything, but after glasses of sweet green tea, sharing my bread, and wonderful conversation, how could I resist? You can see from the picture below that Abdulla even dressed me up like a Tuareg (Blue Men of the desert), and called me a Berber under his breath when I would not come within a third of his initial offers. But he still smiled and took my money in the end, so I think we were both happy with the exchange.

Abdul then rode me back to the hotel, pointing out the road I needed to take to Ouarzazate in the morning. For his help in my hour of need, the wild ride through the medina, and the two-hour personal tour guide service, we settled on the princely sum of $12 US. I still think it was a steal at that price. After that I settled at a table outside in the open air garden with 60 to 70 Moroccan men, watching a football match on the communal big screen TV, and drinking sweet mint tea. That’s where I am right now.

What a day. It has been unreal from the start. Breaking camp and packing the bike in the dark. Twisties over the mountains to Algeciras at dawn. Watching the sunrise over Gibraltar. Catching the first ferry to Africa. Bribing my way through Customs in Tangier. Blasting 600+ km south past Casablanca to Marrakech. Finished off with an Indiana Jones type ride thru the old medina in Marrakech on the back fender of a moped! How can it get any better than this? I can’t imagine, but I’m sure it will. And so to bed…….

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Please do not use without my permission.