| Málaga – the beginning | |||||
| Day 1 - Leaving Spain | Day 2 - Chefchaouen | Day 3 - Fes | Day 4 - Er Rachidia | Day 5 - Merzouga | Day 6 - Tinghir |
| Day 7 - Aït Benhaddou | Day 8 - Marrakesh | Day 9 - More Marrakesh | Day 10 - Cascades (Ouzoud) | Day 11 - Ifrane | Day 12 - Tarifa |
| Day 13 - Málaga | Day 14 - Torremolinos | Day 15 - Torremolinos-1 | Day 16 - Torremolinos-2 | Day 17 - Caminito del Rei |
May 15th – Wednesday
Map Link – 340 kms
Cascades d´Ouzoud – Ifrane
I had woken up early and enjoyed the solitude of the hotel grounds. The air temperature was a refreshing 15°C and it felt good. It also meant that I would feel chilled once I got on the motorcycle and had that air blowing through my vented gear, but I would rather feel chilled than be a sweaty mess!
The main building was locked so I couldn’t get to the rooftop to catch the sunrise, but I did poke around and took some more photos. It really was a lovely property.
Eventually the doors were unlocked; this view of the courtyard shows the glass ceiling
Swallows nesting inside the courtyard
Nesting platform in the upstairs hallway
I had seen many types of birds on this trip, from large storks to tiny song birds. Falcons, hawks, bats (not a bird, I know), swallows, mourning doves, and egrets were the most common, but here at our hotel a couple of us had caught sight of “a blue bird”. I had glimpsed it when we had first arrived yesterday, but hadn’t seen it since. But now, in the quiet of the early morning, I saw it again. In fact, I saw both of them: they were a pair of European Rollers (Ron looked it up later, as he had seen the birds this morning as well). Very cool!
After a light breakfast we packed up the motorcycles for a long day on the road. The cool air I had noticed earlier felt good on my skin, knowing that all too soon I would resent the sun. Hana took us back through Ouzoud and then we scooted off the main road, almost immediately winding our way through green forested mountains.
Water access points visible from the road
Another face of the High Atlas mountains
Fancy new bus stop (although I didn’t see many buses)
Following the ridge line on a beautiful morning
Dan was still a little grumpy from yesterday’s riding, but he warmed up to it eventually. He and I chatted about the riding in general, riding with others, tours versus our own trips, future plans that we haven’t yet made…it was a good morning to work through this topic.
Approaching Barrage Bin El-Ouidane (reservoir)
The dam (that we’d soon ride across)
Not surprisingly, the water level was low – but note the new sidewalk in the foreground!
Continuing along the lakeside
The construction of a walking path along the road
We entered a valley where it was obvious that it had recently suffered from some pretty big landslides. The soil was a rich, vibrant red, which contrasted sharply with the green of the unaffected hillsides. The government had done a good job of cleaning up, although there were still some sections of rough dirt that we had to navigate. Easy, of course, with our Adventure Bikes! ™
The morning’s riding was not too demanding and let me take in the details of what I was riding by. I saw a group of cars from a Driving School in a parking lot, carefully manoeuvring through cones. In one village, there were street sweepers patrolling the main street, their massive brushes clearing off dirt and debris. Honey hives were everywhere: tucked on hillsides and in valleys, the beehives were a common sight throughout the day. We passed through villages that could be described literally as “dirt poor”, with no real amenities in sight. And the backdrop to all of this was an unending beauty. Morocco was an unexpected gem.
The pace set today was pretty chill. I suspect that those who “love the corners!” weren’t that excited by today’s corners and didn’t feel the need to push it. We were taking some really rural roads, clearly ones that weren’t usually used by tourists. I was only too happy to putter along, and for me: the narrower the road, the happier I am.
Another old bridge to cross
It is in surprisingly good shape
A village in the middle of nowhere – I have no idea what people who live here “do”
Riding through the village; there really wasn’t much here
Ah! A child waves!
No matter how desolate, there is always someone to greet us
Narrow, rough roads
Poppies!
We came around a bend in the road to find a mass of men, donkeys, and produce gathered for Market Day! On the right side of the road were a number of donkeys, “parked” in the dirt field, while on the left side the owners of the donkeys and their goods were gathered for market day. It was like nothing I had seen before and I (and a couple of others in the group) were disappointed not to have been able to stop and take a closer look. This is the dichotomy of being on a guided tour: On one hand, if I wasn’t in a group, I would have loved to have stopped and checked out the market. On the other hand, I probably never would have stumbled upon the market if I hadn’t been following Hana. The good and the bad often go hand in hand.
Donkey parking
It looks like onion day
Looking back across the bridge at the market tents
Leaving Market Day behind
Our tea stop was shortly after the Market Day village, at a solitary building on the side of a hill. There was a refreshing breeze that riffled the tall grass as we sat and drank our tea. It was always good tea, and it didn’t seem to vary regardless of where or how it was served. But then again, I am no connoisseur of tea!
MASSIVE sugar cubes at our tea stop
Always watch for obstacles on the road
Clear view of the abandoned road and the new cut
We were traveling through thick forests, enjoying the lush greenery of the High Atlas. It was easy to forget that I was in a desert country; it was more like riding through the High Sierras of California. Well, it was until we entered the outskirts of El Kasiba, where the Moroccan architecture once again brought me back to where I really was.
Abandoned resort in El Kasiba
Last on my list of “Things I Expect to See in Morocco”
After lunch in Kenifra it was nothing but fast, sweeping roads to our destination in Ifran. To be honest, I felt “done”. It had been many days of riding, and I just wanted a break. I wanted to do what I wanted to do, go where I wanted to go, see what I wanted to see. I have been spoiled by many self-guided trips on a motorcycle, but none of them have been this intense.
I squirmed on my seat and distracted myself with what I saw along the road. I saw my first dead donkey, the body laying abandoned in a field. In another area I saw a man riding a donkey, desperately trying to fend off the dog that was attacking the creature under him, a stick beating at the snarling animal. There were sheep loaded on top of a van. I noticed that the white butterflies that had been so prevalent at the start of the trip, and then disappeared south of the mountains, had returned. I reflected on how roundabouts in Morocco were like no other roundabout I’d ever experienced. Usually there were two lanes as I approached the roundabout, but one lane “disappeared” upon entering the roundabout, but then it reappeared as I exited. Fortunately there was rarely any traffic in these roundabouts so it wasn’t a concern.
Sheep tranport
Every day is market day, apparently
The road continued on, and so did my thoughts. But now they were leaning towards “are we almost there?” But while we weren’t there yet, at least the scenery was still nice to look at.
Back to industrial agriculture
Arabic and Berber on the road signs
Wide open – and green! – spaces
And then we were there. We navigated to the other side of Ifran and then pulled into the bricked drive of Le Palais des Cerisiers (The Palace of Cherries). Despite it being a long day on the bike, Dan and I had time to sort out our room and then go for a walk around the grounds. I imagined a lot of weddings and receptions took place here. There was a pigeon cote, indoor pool, gym, and a gazebo, among many other buildings and rooms. It was a big place, but it was empty while we were there.
View across the grounds
Nice rooms
Dinner was on site (of course – they had an entire restaurant on site) and it was the most Western meal that we had the entire trip, consisting of beef steak and French fries. And fondant for dessert, of course. The meal was good enough, but the tagines we had were, to be honest, better.
I think that it wasn’t just me, but the whole group was tired. As soon as our plates had been cleared, the others got up and bid everyone else a good night and wandered back to their rooms. Dan and I did the same. It was our last night in Morocco; tomorrow we’d dash north and catch the ferry at Tangier and cross over to Terifa. It was with mixed feelings that this realization hit home, but overall, I think that I was glad to be heading home.
Our last sunset in Morocco
