Continuing on from the last blog, great days riding 55 km and found accommodation at a little village called Ain Hamra, about 30km from Aknoul, there were six self-contained apartments, apparently Europeans come over for holidays... We took the one bedroom, it was pretty good, a bit expensive and then had to convince the key holder that we did require gas for a hot shower... They were built with really thick walls to keep the sun out but it was sooo cold. No restaurant and just a couple of no women coffee places so we got bread olives, tomatoes and canned fish again, felt like we had to hide away again and then had to wrap blankets around us to keep warm in a lounge that had enough settees for 20 people. Odd!!
Ain Hamra to Thar Es-Souk, 60km,
Off early, gorgeous day riding through the stunning Rif Mountains, through olive groves and around a dam. Wild poppies and donkeys. Very little traffic just a few old European Mercedes Benz taxies. Not many people but always some guy lurking bored somewhere. The men seem quite hopeless and some quite helpless. The economy appears to be based around olives and coffee drinking in this area. Lunch was a fried egg delivered in an inch of olive oil with bread to dunk in it. It is not an eat out society, people are too poor. Shops are hard to find and there is very little in them.
We stopped at Thar Es-Souk to enquire about a hotel. Ahh, None, we were getting tired and it was incredibly hot. An ex teacher spoke English and his friend, a bus driver, promptly offered us his place to stay. They had a downstairs area that they were doing up, the bathroom was finished so it was perfect. Obviously quite a well to do family of the village. I think anyone who is employed does okay. Very generous and genuine family. We were taken down to the gendarmerine to sign in, another hour wasted... But essential apparently. His wife then gave us tea and cakes, Trevor was then whisked away with the men to have coffee and I went off to socialize with the women which was great, I wondered where they all were! We sat out on chairs under some trees in a communal area, chooks running around. Mother, grandmother, two sisters, (25 and 28) a niece (18) and sister in law with baby all joined us. They chatted and laughed, everyone kissed one another when they arrived, even me and the young kids did as well. They were all very lovely, made me fresh OJ, the younger girls spoke some English, seemed quite well educated but there is no work in the area, they live with their parents, they stay home all day, they are not married and really have nothing to do except cook and clean. I discovered they could not drive, nor ride a bike or even swim, very few people have cars.Women would never smoke in Morocco, that would be shameful. They did not appear subservient and certainly the woman where we were staying was quite modern and a very capable mum of 4. Their brother arrived, he had obviously been drinking. (in this non drinking country) He said with astonishment he was the same age as me and he had no teeth and mine were still perfect and white!
Dinner was started about 8.30, I was not allowed to help so I was falling asleep sitting on the balcony. We ate at 10.30pm mutton, vege, bread and salads, then fruit, very nice. 3 older men, husband, 2 boys and us. The woman of the house just served, did not eat with us and would not let me help clean up. Coffee and corn bread delivered in the morning, then off we went. A truely great experience.
56 km to Taounate.
The area is looking greener, a little more prosperous and a bit more traffic.
A much bigger town. One hotel looked good but had nowhere secure for our bikes so we ended up in another awful hotel room. We had intended to go the 80 km to Fez and onto the Atlas mountains but decided that we were not really feeling the love for Morocco and I was over staying in local hotels with Moroccon men!
In all the countries we have visited we have always felt completely safe. Here, we feel a little uneasy at times. Just not totally welcome by everyone. Nothing specific, just a vibe, maybe just the culture but as we are not destination driven we changed our minds and decided to head up to Cueta, the other Spanish city on the coast and to go back to Spain. Just 300km or so in between!
So we started on the shortest quietest route around a lake. But the rd went up and up then down and down. But great views. Just after lunch we spotted some women getting fresh bread from the outside oven. They were pleased to see us, gave us bread and proudly showed us their cows, they live right beside the house. Smelly!! It is surely a country of contrast. These women were really friendly, others cover their faces as we come near. Some men gladly shake our hands and chat, some look sullen and unhappy. The kids do not respond to a wave, they stare or run away. Every day some guy rips us off, quite blatantly at times, something costs 80 dirham, we give 100 they give only 10 change. If we count it and return to the counter they pull the other 10 from their pocket!! But some seem honest.
The roads are pretty much as in the photos just a middle bit of tar seal, if there are two cars coming they both end up with two wheels in the dirt, they don't slow down, we sometimes exit the road as well. No evidence of any maintenance being done anywhere.
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