Wait to worry Rose, wait to worry...

Tounate to Tafran 60 km
We were stopped by a guy who said he was a public official about 3 pm, he asked us where we intended to stay and to bring in our passports to his town which was on a dead end peninsula and not on our intended route. We had wanted to do a few more km to make the next day less but could not.  There was no accommodation in the town so we asked if there was somewhere nearby to camp, the gendarmerine, many of them, showed us an unlevel patch of dirt near the middle of town, no water or toilet and could not understand why we were not overly enthusiastic! They would not let us leave. They were not so interested in me so I chatted to a group of school kids who were great fun. (Photo)   After 2 hours Trevor was getting a bit frustrated, noone was understanding anything, the language barrier was big! finally someone remembered a guy who hosted foreigners about 10 km away so we said great we would cycle there,  but no, they did not want us to go,  they phoned and got the owner to come and get us which he did. It was in the boondocks, we would never have found it, and he usually just took package tours, dinner bed and breakfast etc and charged  a fortune. We explained we had our own food and just needed a bed and by then it was 7pm so that was fine, it was not flash but was big, clean and comfortable,  just what we needed.  The gendarmerine phoned to make sure we were staying there, he said if we hadn't they would have been out all night trying to find and protect us, there had been issues in this drug growing area... Cyclists do ride here but I think with support vehicles, perhaps a little off the tourist route than we should be. We were in village 4 of 30 in that area, we wandered around the village below us, one light bulb per house, donkeys, cows and chooks all living beside the shacks and a couple of dogs who did not like us. They move so quick when they decide to have a go at you.  Anyway a comfortable safe night and left the next morning at 8.30 am heading for Chefcheoun, the blue and white town known as the most picturesque in Morocco. The sign we saw the previous day said 90 km so we knew it would be a big day, but that is an understatement.
Nice morning, interesting, kids out on donkeys getting the water on a Saturday. Women happy to get their photos taken. Saw a great olive press, (photo)  Slow going though as very hilly. Lots of low gear. It got quite remote with fewer villages, we stopped for coffee and were given tea as well with orange blossom tossed in,  then had lunch on the road side and saw a sign that said 56km so were feeling ok. Up up up down down down, up up up..averaging less than 10 km per hr. Stinking hot. Our legs were getting trashed. At 4 pm we saw another sign that said 50 km. We could not believe it. We had done 62 already. And at the pace we were going it would be dark before we got there. We hadn't gone the wrong way, there was just one rd. We were chased up the hill by some young guy wanting money then a woman hassled me, screaming for money, it was turning a bit Yuk. We scoffed a pkt of orios and an orange,  the last of our food and we had run out of water. Still 16km to go to Ben Taza at the top of the hill. It was starting to cool down and the sun was going down as we pulled into a petrol station. I brought some water then an Argentinian guy who was working in Chefcheoun came over to chat and to see where we were staying. There was still 24 km to Chefcheoun and it was Easter Saturday, Spanish holidays so he told us and he thought all the  accommodation was booked out! I had been telling myself, "wait to worry"  for a few hours, but did start to feel more anxious. He gave us his number and said if we couldn't find anything we could stay at his workers accommodation as everyone was away.
We hightailed it out of there, now on a main rd winding down a hill. Going as fast as I could, too fast,  Trevor close behind. I had put my arm warmers and jacket on at the top but it was now freezing and getting dark. 8 km to the bottom then we stopped to put our lights on and Trevor to find some warm clothes. Just got going and an angry dog leapt out of the scrub at us, just what we did not need. I rang my bell, it hesitated so I bolted and left Trevor to deal with it!  4 km more on the flat, now I was worried, so exhausted, hungry, freezing, nearly dark and nowhere obvious to stay with a 12 km hill still to climb. Ahhh
98 km for the day and this sign appeared in front of us advertising a hotel and sites for campervans. Brakes on, straight in. The hotel was full but the lovely Spanish owner was more than happy for us to put up our tent on the grass by the swimming pool. What a relief!!  Tent up, then survived a freezing cold shower and finally made it to the restaurant for dinner at 9.30 and enjoyed the best meal in a fortnight, bread with dips, then chicken and vegetable tagines, meals cooked from scratch in small clay dishes. Slept very well!