11/03/2023 Bikepacking Morocco Day 87 : A Great start to Africa

The morning began well - I can’t believe what a difference staying in a 4 star hotel makes. The breakfast options were simply amazing; Janet and I aren’t used to that because we tend to be “roughing it”. I find it odd that a hotel like this was actually less expensive than some of the other nearby options - but grateful to get a body recharge. No complaints from the staff as I wheeled my bike down the hall and onto the balcony outside the room. This is one of those experiences I wish I could have shared with Janet - the good times!

Even though I prepared a ton, I’m feeling a bit unprepared with so many equipment problems. Yesterdays mud nearly depleted a pair of new brake pads; thousands of feet descended in the grit. You know about the ground pad from yesterday (it still works, thankfully, so I am trying to stay relaxed and baby it for the next four months. Grateful for Gregg Bone’s repair suggestion if it comes down to that). A new malady appeared today - my brand new satellite communication device died after working for 1.5 days. I raced around Algerceras looking for a store that might sell something - even a Garmin InReach. Nothing. I thought long and hard about this: people used to travel without these. I do have some hyper-remote 60-120 mile desert sections planned on dirt… I was most looking forward to these sections… but I might reconsider. Maybe. Meanwhile, I am working with BivyStick to express mail a replacement to Fez.

It then became a race to catch the boat. It left in 30 minutes, and the guy in front of me was not being allowed to buy a round trip ticket from Spain to Morocco and back. It seemed like he wasn’t registered as a citizen of the EU. They looked him up in the computer and as the clock ticked away, they guy behind the counter finally figured it out: he was typing “ñ” instead of “n”. The guy insisted his name had “ñ”, but whatever: the computer disagreed. I swear that for every minute computers save from our lives, they waste two.

On the ferry, there is a little window where you need to get your passport stamped. This is convenient because you don’t have to do it when you arrive. It’s also inconvenient because there is one guy and 40 people. I started timing and at the rate he was processing people… about 1 person every 6 minutes, it seemed unlikely there would be time to get to everyone during the short crossing. The man only claimed to speak French and English, but he didn’t really speak English. He got hung up on the purpose of my trip. I had written “Leisure” on the entry form which was a BAD idea. I tried to explain that this means “Tourism”, but even with my French and English, he got stuck on that, much like my computer gets stuck on repeat saying “you have entered the wrong password”

Disembarking from the boat, it didn’t feel like a new continent… but THIS is Africa! I headed straight to the bathroom and inside saw two sink looking things. One near the ground, and another higher with water valves. Unsure if either of these were urinals, I took the safe bet and found a sit down toilet to pee in. I’m going to have to learn a lot here, but peeing in a possible sink isn’t going to be how I start.

The ride began into a fierce rainy headwind. It felt impossible to absorb everything; I was on sensory overload - which is exactly what I was craving from this trip… non stop mental stimulation. It is stressful, but once I have time to process it all, I think I’ll be glad I did this. The first thing I noticed that stood out was the adolescents by the side of the road. When I waved, they would wave back - but with enormous smiles that made you think everything is right in the world. Since when are adolescents so friendly? The kids were friendly too; one kid rode alongside me, maybe trying to race. He swerved about, though, making me think we would clip bars. All I had was “Bonjour, ça va?” I’m kicking myself for listening to these podcasts where the woman just gossips about her friends. That isn’t coming handy when I need to tell the kid he has a cool bike, wanna race? I’m overjoyed that today went well because I had read stories about kids throwing rocks at cyclists in Islamic countries. One kid did ride his bike following me and pantomiming my exaggerated movements while standing, but it was all in fun.

Even the adults are friendly; an old robed man put down his decrepit wheelbarrow just so he could smile and wave as I went by.

Once I got to town, it was dark, and I had to navigate the chaotic streets. This is something I enjoy when traffic is slow or stopped. I love darting between cars and people constantly changing direction. It’s like riding a technical mountain bike trail that moves around beneath you.

I decided to buy a local SIM card. I’m using GoogleFi as an eSim, and that makes life really easy - anywhere you go in the world, your phone just works with your home number… but it is expensive and I wanted to try the experience of getting a SIM here. English to the rescue, I can’t really do much French I am finding as I stumble over words. It took nearly 2 hours; a slow tedious process and the “system not working,” but I persisted as the guy got his buddy to come help (first they had to give each other big hugs). I kind of feel like a cold American amongst these warm and friendly people.

The guy at the hotel was equally jovial. He couldn’t stop smiling and we chatted for a while. He was older than me, but his mannerisms were like a teen. He was so intent on making sure I loved Morocco. He was bummed that my wife didn’t come. He carefully studied my route map and said it was a great route. it was super late and I’m still in my bike clothes, he said, “you want to go, don’t you!” I liked him a lot, but was also desiring a shower… I can already tell that everything in Morocco is going to take a lot of time…. Good time, though, so I need to embrace that and maybe think more about the journey and less about the destination.