This time I wore my full body armour to collect my bike and rode south towards Rissani. There was some floodwater on the road but no worse than Ballyronan that famous Saturday in August. At a petrol station I met two brit bikers who had ridden from Northern Spain to do a tour of Morocco on a 125 Varadero and a 17 year old Honda xl185. That’s keen. I got some money and had a tagine for lunch in Rissani and rode through some rather worse flooding on the edge of town out towards the desert. The sensation of seeing the huge dunes of Erg Chebi in the distance and riding towards them on this lonely road was truly memorable. I know that huge coaches do it every day in the tourist season, but this just felt special. In merzouga I found a Dutch biker on an xt600 like mine who had lost his group and had no money and no mobile. I let him use my mobile but with no success so he tagged along as I got a guide to take me to what he promised was the best biker camping around and only two minutes away. They must have been Kerry minutes as I nearly doubled my off-road experience before we got there. However, it was interesting to ride a perfect off-road bike on perfect tyres and only just be able to keep pace with an elderly Arab wearing a bright blue jelaba and thrashing the life out of a moped. And no – he didn’t stand on the pegs. I gave the Dutch biker some dirhams for fuel and he disappeared off after the guide to – who knows?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment