Fes- Before we even got into the hotel, a tour guide approached us to take us round the town. He happily waited around while we got in, parked the bike in the hotel lock-up, showered and had a quick beer at the bar. The price of 150Dh (about £11) was agreed, so he got into his robes, got us a taxi and we headed off for our tour of the 2nd oldest city in the world (Jerusalem being the oldest). The medina had all the usual things you expect, crowds, food & jewellery stalls, donkeys, funny smells and wood for scaffolding. He took us right in to the depths of the medina, where it would be easy to get lost. At one point I thought we’d picked one the scammers who get you in there, then charge you more to get you back out, but thankfully, he was genuine. Admittedly, he took us round all his mates’ shops, but why not. I’d do the same I guess. We also went into the tannery, which, quite frankly, stinks, but is interesting nonetheless. As you look around you at the old city, you can’t help but take in the buildings. The structures themselves are not all that startling, but some of the detailing in the wood and masonry is amazing. The craftsmen of the time were obviously a very talented bunch.
After the tour, he got us in another taxi back to the hotel. We got out and I handed over 200Dh. ‘200Dh’, says he, ‘for 150 I owe you how much’. ‘50Dh’ I said. And then it comes, how he paid the taxi, and showed us round, and got us back to the hotel, and any other excuse he could think of. I’m not naming names, but one of us thought it easier to just pay him, and the other one fell into line. It’s only another £4 I suppose so it’s not going to break the bank. After a couple of very welcome beers, we headed for bed, ready for the big push back to Tanger in the morning.
Fes – Malaga – We had 2 options here, to go via Rabat and up the Atlantic coast, or North through the Rif mountains. We’d heard the Rif was where the drug problems are, and of people being chased or robbed on their bikes, and we couldn’t be bothered taking the risk so we headed west in search of the sea. And, of course, we took the wrong turning. We missed the motorway, and so ended up on the normal road to Meknes. It was simple from there though, once we were on the motorway, we just blasted up to Tanger and straight into the port. Here, there’s a lot of ferry companies to chose from, so hunt about. There doesn’t seem to be any logic to times, or prices for that matter, so you take your chance. We were lucky and found a ticket for £50 for 2 and the bike. The guy on the boat had no idea about tying up a bike but I made sure he did it right, and it stayed secure and upright all the way over to Algeciras. Getting into Spain was a lot easier than getting into Morocco, even with Jen on an Australian passport, and, once we cleared the sniffer dogs, we were released onto the Spanish roads.
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The plan was to ride into Gibraltar and find somewhere to stay there, as neither of us had been there before, but once we got there, we changed our minds. All the hotels were either full or stupidly expensive, so we looked for the next nearest Ibis on the SatNav, which was Malaga, and so after a quick blast along the coast of the Costa del Sol, we found the hotel. Admittedly, I had to go the wrong way up a one-way street, but it was only about 50 yards, and at night, so it was easy enough. Incidentally, we don’t work for Ibis, it’s just they were on the SatNav so we chose them.
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