Africa at last, and everything changes.
Agrandir le plan
So much has happened since my last post its hard to know where to start. Sitting here in this little internet cafe in the old madina in Chefchaouen. and on all the other computers teenage boys are on face book or watching music videos or football on you tube. Out side the tiny streets are painted blue and I'll try to recount the last few days.
After Jerez i took to the Atlantic coast south of Cadiz and braved gale force winds and wild storms that blew off the sea. First to Puerto Real through some marsh land, farms, and sad looking waist land.
I had wondered if it was actually wise to travel on that day but the weather turned out to be so dramatic it was great entertainment the whole way passed Chiclana de la Frontera, Conil de la Frontera and to Canos de Meca where it turned out Nelson Defeated the French and Spanish at the battle of Trafalga. As Nelson was a Norfolk lad i had an extra feeling of pride as i gazed out across the stormy seas untill the wind became so strong that my bike which was lent against the light house railings was blown over on top of the guitar strapped on the side. The whole thing happened in horrible slow motion yet there was nothing i could i do. I knew it was risky carrying the guitar on the bike like this and that this could happen at any moment but why now just as we reached the final days in Europe....... Well this all sounds very dramatic and it was for a while, however the next day i bought some super glue and glued up the cracks once again and there's plenty of life in her yet.
The next couple of nights were spent camped out with other characters of the road: A Belguim couple driving an old merceedes camper to Mali...... That's funny, that's where i'm going on my bike; so we shared stories and eat wholsome food in their van sheltering from the rains.
The next night i camped just north of Tarifa with these crazy cats in the Casa de Porros. These guys really are living their dreams in vans on a kite surfing beach in the south of Spain. Their dilapidated caravan looks out across the straights to Morroco, Africa and beyond. There are van dwellers from all over hiding out on this little piece of land by the beach on the edge of Europe, and that's definitly how it felt. I sat and gazed across to Africa with just a little fear of what may lie ahead but eager to cross the waters and start the next chapter of the journey. As it turned out, i spent the following few days in Tarifa awaiting a package of the new video camera at the post office before i could catch the boat so i had plenty of time to gaze and wonder, and enjoy some stunning sun sets.
And then my boat came and suddenly the journey stepped up to the next level. I landed in Tangers at midday and decided to head up into the hills as I now had a few days free before i could get a Mauratania visa in Rabat. So I ended up cycling the110 km up the Riff mountains almost a 1000m to arrive in Chechaouen and arrived on the edge of darkness. In My first day cycling in Africa i was greeted with waves, thumbs up, cheers and beeping of horns probably more times than the entire cycle across France, Spain and Portugal. This is going to be something quiet different. The day was quiet full-on though, so i am just acclimatising here for a couple of days getting used to a new way of life before the 3 day ride to Rabat. This is a beautiful laid back town with a stunning old blue medina and plenty of guys calling out; hey my friend.... let me sell you something...
I guess I'll get used to that as i am now a white man in Africa once again, with all it's pros and cons.
Many, many other tales to tell.
Many more yet to unfold
To Africa and beyond.
