Morocco: The longest day --- the accident (final)

Once again I was driving behind Sweet Potato. This time, we decided I would follow the ambulance, meaning I would have to drive at the same speed as a brand new jeep driven by an experienced driver... or 90 km/h. It might not sound that much, but for an overloaded small motorbike it means driving on the limit of the engine speed and heating the engine more than I should. In any case, in less than 1h15m we covered 100 km and we got to Laayoune.

At the entrance of the city, the police stopped us. A quick check of the passports and we were allowed to move again. Ten meters ahead, we were stopped again. First, I thought it was going to be really fast as we had just been stopped (they had seen it!) and the caravan included an injured person going to the hospital. It didn't end up being that brief...

Police: Can I see your passport?
Clark: Yes, sure (while handing my passport)
The police went inside a small kiosk and came back
Police: Destination?
Clark: Mauritanie
He went inside again and some time later, another police came to me.
Police2: You know, we need to register all your data. Can I see your motorbike papers?
Clark: I have some papers with all the detailed info. Can you check it, please? 
(I had prepared a small sheet of paper with all the relevant data of the motorbike and ours, including parents' names, job, etc... I am expecting to hand more than 30 of them further south, crossing Western Sahara and Mauritania)
Police2: Yes, it is ok! (after spending a fair amount to time looking at it) I need to include your entrance registration number in Morocco (and went inside again!!)

Overall, the total stop took almost half hour. If this is the standard when someone is inside an ambulance being transported to the hospital, I wonder how it would be without the ambulance!

Sweet Potato laying down while Clark was anxiously wait to get out of there and move to the hospital

Another ten minutes and we got to the hospital. The emergency room was almost empty and Sweet Potato was quickly observed. Time to do a couple of X-Rays (knee and foot) and in another hour or so we were done. Nothing was broken and the knee was bending again.

Meanwhile, the police had come to speak with me. He was from immigration and wanted to confirm we had our passports in order. After an easy talk, I asked for a suggestion for the hotel. His first question: Do you have a copy of your marriage certificate?. Surprised, but without showing it, I just replied: No!. Pas de problém was his answer when he started to dial a number on his cellphone. The same policeman took Sweet Potato to the hotel while I drove Tear Drop :)

Finally in the room and looking on the mirror, I wished I had joined the No Poo movement before and remembered that between the accident and the hotel, it had been more than 10 hours of pain, driving and concern.

It was definitely the longest day!

Morocco: The longest day --- the accident (part 2)

Shortly after Sweet Potato's departure, I left as well. The hot air, the light wind, the adrenalin still in my veins and the difference in weight over the motorbike made the ride different. South of Akhfenir, the road deviates from the coast, giving place to some salt extraction sites, then it crosses sand dunes and, 50 km later, it reapproaches the coast line, with the tents punctuating the landscape once again. This time, I don't admire it! Instead, I keep remembering the accident, anxious to reach Tarfaya to know about her. Finally, the road has an intersection, and towards the right, I can see the small fishing village. It took me 1h30m to get there.

The village is quiet and I quickly reach the small clinic. Sweet Potato is laying in bed, frightened. They need to do a surgery, she says, with the tears rolling down the face. I hold her hand and try to calm her down. I am told that Sweet Potato needs to go the hospital to do an X-Ray to check if the knee is broken. About the toe, they can treat it. Also, for my relief, it is moving again!!!

There are two nurses. The man is in charge and the lady (much better in English!) is helping him. He is getting ready, finalizing to prepare the anesthesia. Sweet Potato is very anxious and keeps crying, afraid. I try to calm her down when the nurse gives the injection in her toe. Soon, the toe has no reaction to needles: it is time to give some stitches.

Sweet Potato is able to relax a little bit and to tell me about the previous ambulance ride. The driver was in Tan Tan celebrating the end of Ramadan with his family when he received the phone call. So, he had to drive to Tarfaya to get the ambulance (200 km) and then to the accident place (another 100 km). Now it makes sense that they took more than two hours!! Meanwhile, the nurse gave five stitches, all without pain. Sweet Potato is ready to be transferred to the hospital.

Moving down from the bed, I noticed she didn't bend her leg. Neither she did it in the washroom... nor while riding the wheelchair!! Surprised, I ask Why do you keep your leg stiff? followed by a reply: I cannot bend it!! By the second time in one day, I had a cold sensation throughout my spine.

The ambulance was ready. She went inside, I gave her a "see you soon" kiss and I was strongly slapped on my back. It's time to move said the ambulance driver. I got confused whereas I had just been punished for giving her a kiss... He was dressed on a more "traditional" way and I had noticed that women here are more covered...

Anyway, I had to get moving and to follow the ambulance on the motorbike. The hospital in Laayoune was still 100 km further South.

Insider's view of the ambulance from Tarfaya to Laayoune

Morocco: The longest day --- the accident (part 1)

Passing Akhfenir, the road follows closely to the ocean. The beach has some tents, Sweet Potato is taking some pictures and I get distracted by the landscape. When I look to the road again, it is too late! The very next thing we know was being rescued beneath the motorbike.

Sweet Potato injured her knee and made a hole on her toe, Tear Drop got scratched and I am limping a little bit. Meanwhile, a crowd joined us moved by curiosity and willingness to help. As Tear Drop was still able to move, I went to the gendarmerie with a Moroccan boy to get some help. Nervous with the situation, my spanish was not flowing anymore and my petit French got vanished! After a few deep breaths, I was able to explain what happened and they called the ambulance. When I came back to the accident place, Sweet Potato was comfortably installed in the sand, under a beach umbrella. Just missing a cold piñacolada!

Few minutes later, the police arrived. I handed my international drivers license, insurance papers (a good option for Portuguese vehicles is Tranquilidade, which in its Portuguese policy already covers Morocco) and  passports and they started doing some measures and writing a report of the accident.

During this time, Sweet Potato continued resting, but her toe became numb.
Worried, I asked: Can you move your big toe?
SP: I am moving!
Clark: Again! (while looking to the frozen toe, without a single reaction!)
SP: YES?! I am doing it!
Clark: Okay. It's good! (controlling the reaction in order to avoid showing her that her toe was totally static)

My heart stopped and moved by a huge fear that her toe's nerve had been affected, I approached the police again: Where is the ambulance? It had been more than 1 hour!! Their comment was Tarfaya is 100 km away. The ambulance needs time. Desperately, I went back to Sweet Potato. The ambulance is coming. Rest.

Soon, the police calls me: Are you going with her in the ambulance?
Clark: Can I take the moto and join her in the hospital? I need it, as we are going South.
Police: But you need to come back to Tarfaya to sign the report.
Clark: Can you finish it now and I sign it?
Police: Ok.

Shortly after, he hands me the report to sign. A minor problem: It's in Arabic! Any way, it seems I have no option rather to sign it. Someone in the former crowd was able to speak some Spanish and it seems to be ok...
I sign and, as a reflex, Where is the ambulance?. It had been 2 hours already and once again the same answer...

Two hours and a half after the accident, finally the ambulance arrives. Sweet Potato has time to sign her report and goes inside the ambulance. By now, she was afraid, very afraid. Tears roll down her face while I give her a kiss and hold her hands.

The local people had showed all their character, by being with us all the time, helping, offering their smiles and holding the beach umbrella. A huge THANK YOU to all!

I will take the motorbike and meet Sweet Potato in the clinic in Tarfaya. The longest day is not even half-way through yet.

Morocco: Tan Tan to Akhfenir

Not as famous as the drive between San Francisco and Los Angeles, the route between Tan Tan and Akhfenir doesn't stand behind! We hope you enjoy the pictures as much as Sweet Potato and Clark enjoyed the ride.

Morocco: Hassan II Mosque

After a nice drive along the coast, we got to Casablanca, the city made famous by Bogart and Bergman. In the largest Moroccan city, we were expecting to see the best cars and the tallest buildings in Morroco, and it didn't disappoint us!

More, following the crowd, we just headed to one of the most impressive buildings and people gatherings we have ever seen. It was almost the end of Ramadan and a huge crowd was moving to the mosque.

Mosque Hassan II

The mosque (Hassan II) is the biggest in Morocco and its minaret is the tallest in the world. More, it was built right beside the ocean, following the words of Hassan II: I want to build this mosque on the water, because God's throne is on the water. Therefore, the faithful who go there to pray, to praise the Creator on firm soil, can contemplate God's sky and ocean. To make it even more dramatic, the mosque and the square were full of people celebrating Ramadan and the mist coming from the ocean created a very special aura.
Definitely a place to visit!

Morocco: N'a pas d'argent pour l'hôtel?

After some days in Rabat to take care of the visa to Mauritania, to rest and to shower frequently, we finally left on the 16 of August.  Over the following days in Casablanca, Marrakesh and Agadir we always slept in gas stations...

Camping close to Marrakesh (we slept inside the tent...)

The night in Tan-Tan was slightly more interesting... We arrived already late at night, taking advantage of the lower temperatures to drive (meaning less than 35ºC!) and we were received by the guardian camels of the city.

(photo from another site...)

What followed was a long avenue without a place in which we could really setup our tent, so we headed into the city. It was already late night, some people were outside and the city sounded fishy. We tried two hotels, but one didn't accept us and we didn't accept the other one. So it was time  to go to the police (gendarmerie) station!

We parked Tear Drop and the officer showed up immediately: 

P: Bon soir! Qu'est-ce que vous voulez?

Clark: Bonjour! Can we slept in the police station?

P: ?

Clark: Pour resté ici. Nous can? (mixing languages while pointing at the police station and bending my head as a sign of going to sleep)

P: No! Pas de posible...

Clark: And outside? (and pointing to the ground outside of the station) Nous avez an tent!

P: Oui... (mumbling and clearly surprised....!)

Without losing any time, we parked Tear Drop at the new place and we started to setup our camping. However, a car arrived. It was another policeman, this time speaking some better english:

P2: You cannot be here. This is the police parking lot.

Clark: Bonjour! We spoke with your colleague and he allowed us.

Confused, the second policeman called the other guy, spoke something in Arabic and got back to us:

P2: I am sorry, but you cannot be here. Pas de safe. Je ensure security inside but not here.

Clark: Ok. Where can we setup our tent?

Feeling confused with the situation, the conversation followed a mixed approach...

P2: Hotel?

Clark: Ce trés expensive

P2: No... Ce pas cher...

Clark: Nous sons etudiants and it's a long trip...

P2: Resté ici is not safe for you! You should go to a hotel...

Clark: Oui. Je compris, mas pas de argent

P2: N'a pas d'argent pour l'hôtel? I will give you the money!

That totally disarmed us! It was one of those moments that just leave you speechless... A policeman offering the money to pay for a hotel to two total strangers! Firmly, we refused. 

However, it will be remembered as a remarkable example of the Moroccan hospitality. 

Morocco: The Djellaba Festival

Djellabas, djeballas and djellabas... you can find many of them in Morocco.

Dark pink...

maple leaf style...

black and white...

leopard style...

green...

color explosion...

hot pink... 

or... our favourite: Channel djellaba!

Africa!

The trip just started and it already seems an eternity, both in km and in events.

Still in Spain, and looking for a hostel, we were asked 45 € for one night. Easy to choose. Time to make some returns for the investment on the 2 seconds tent!

After the wild camping night, we continued our way to Algeciras to cross to Africa. On our last stop at a Chinese store, we even had a 40% discount and two bottles of water offered, courtesy of Chinese people to Sweet Potato! Bought the tickets and with the Gibraltar rock's view on our mind as the last picture of Europe during months, we landed in Africa.

Time to cross the customs... and to start feeling Africa! Tear Drop is parked when the customs officer arrives. "Bonjour!". I try to mumble some French: "Bonjour!". He collects the papers, and starts speaking English realizing my limited French abilities. "You need to go to the police, they will check your passport." Without hesitations, I move to the kiosk. As soon as I get there I realize it is empty, while some tables are full of food. Ingenuous, my first though is "Nice way to welcome foreigners!". No way...! They have been all-day fasting and those croissants and dates are their meal after the sun goes down. More, while they eat, we wait! Five minutes at the beginning, extended to ten, quickly half an hour. Some more time and finally someone show up, quickly checks it and we can go! We are officially in Africa!!

Ten o'clock and we have no idea where to sleep... After two hours looking for a place in Tangier, we end up in a gas station on the highway, close to Asilah. Tent on the grass, motorbike parked and a good night of sleep. In the next morning, four people are looking at the motorbike: João and his crew! They are going to Guinea Bissau, driving a car till the south of Morocco and then driving two nice motorbikes and got fascinated by Tear Drop and her equipment!

Shortly after, it was time to leave to see the camels in the beach in Asilah,...

... eat the watermelon with a view to Asilah...

and to taste the snails in Kenitra!

It's official: we got to Africa!! 

Spain: Million star hotel

In the only night in Spain, this hotel...

... had a view to our room!

Portugal: Finally... departure

Tears in the eyes, butterflies in the stomach, adrenalin in the blood and 1150 km in the motorbike. Time to start the journey. For real, after weeks of dreaming about it.

With a short stop in  Lisbon for technical reasons, the journey continued through Vasco da Gama bridge. Usually the wind blows strong, making it a hard drive, but not today. The heavy cargo and the two passengers kept Tear Drop close to the asphalt without shaking. Exit to Montijo, quick biological break, stop at Sweet Drop (aka Pingo Doce) to get food and short ride to the Orbitur camping site in Évora.

Tomorrow is time to get some training for Western Sahara, crossing the hot plains of Alentejo and Andalucia towards the South of Spain.

Reasons for optimism

Almost departing, some people are still skeptical about the trip. I don't fully understand...

1. Only two people are going (on only one motorbike)
2. Less than 50 kg of luggage (on the same motorbike)
3. It's a brand new motorbike (perhaps not built for such a trip and with only 125 cc...)
4. I did several questions to the mechanical guy: "How do I adjust the transmission chain? Where do I check the oil level?, ..."
5. I have experience driving (I took my driver's license more than two weeks ago...)
6. It is a beaten track... just going overland to South Africa to get cigarettes.
7. Finally, the equipment! They are only skeptical because they haven't seen neither the equipment...

... nor the cargo!!

Hope for a Transit Visa for Angola

A smile was not enough. The tourist visas issued to Angola have a 60 days validity. No more, no less. With that, there is no point on getting a visa now. It would be totally useless...

Fortunately, not all were bad news! It should be possible to obtain a transit visa to cross Angola in 5 days. That allows us to cross to further south in DR Congo (avoiding the crazier areas) or, in the very best case, directly to Zambia!
According to the Angolan consulate in Lisbon, it requires:

• Complete application form
• Passport with 9 months validity and with a valid visa for the destination country
• 2 photos
• Copy of the ticket to the next country
• Criminal record   

detailed information here (in Portuguese)

We don't expect it to be a straight forward process, but we have hope to get the transit visa... with a smile!