Wind: The Most Important Thing

I caught a cargo/ferry boat out of Ələt towards Kuryk.  It was pretty fun,  and just like the internet predicted I met some other interesting travelers including an Israeli cyclist heading the same direction named Omar.  I'm always excited to meet other cyclists,  but I am also very aware that I'm just way faster, and slightly more hardcore then your average bike tourer.  #sorryimnotsorry.  Plus, we all have different styles when it comes to where to sleep,  and im pretty set in my ways.   So anyways,  I wasn't very confident we would be riding together for too long. 

We were pretty much the first ones through customs, and it felt great to be in a new and completely foreign place.   We rode from the port, to the town it was supposedly in, which was actually 30km away,  and were greeted with really good vibes.  We got groceries, ate some triangular fastfood, got local currency, saw some camels, and then hit the shortcut road to skip the bigger town of Aktau.   The pavement was shit, but when we made the turn we went from a mild cross wind to a nice tailwind, and things were just dandy. The huge expanses of flat sandy landscape was really cool, and we kept seeing more camels and horses.  I peddled ahead, but it wasn't a big deal because I went off to investigate a potential sleeping spot that was way further then it looked from the road, and also way bigger and definitely occupied.  So Omar caught up.  Also to be fair to Omar his rig weighs 60kg (132lb) while mine is just 42 (92), and he is super wide, my bike almost looks aero next to his.  He was also running on studded tires...  so yeah not built for speed.  I decided to go with his flow for looking for potential hosts by making friends with the locals, but in the end we ended up camping out.  Had I known (and I should have known) how hard the next day was going to be I definitely would have insisted on going further. 

The wind shifted 180° as forecasted overnight and in the morning it was coming right at our face.  Had I been alone I probably would have been peddling by 10 (sunrise is 9) but we didn't leave until noon.  We stopped right away to refill water and eat more triangles.  Then when we finally got back on the highway I started going at my pace, and quickly Omar disappeared over the horizon.   Winds were 24mph (40kmh) from the NW and I was heading due North.   It was awful.   There are absolutely no trees, no hills, no large objects at all to block the wind.  I couldn't have stopped to wait for Omar, its just too shitty to wait on the road like that.  Since the wind was over my left shoulder every time a truck passed it really threw me around and I often just veered off into the unpaved shoulder to avoid the air punch.  Its hard to go in a straight line with that kind of wind.  My speed was betweet 8-10kmh (5-6mph), and I was working hard for that.  I figured eventually there would be a roadside cafe or something where I would post up and wait,  but after about 25km and still nothing a car passed with a bicycle in it.  They pulled over and Omar got out and asked me how it was going.  "Not great".  He told me he was gunna take this ride to Shetpe, and I should maybe try hitchhiking too.  But I don't play like that.

I told him I probably wouldn't make it that far, but I sure would like to because from there the road turns to go due east, and the NW wind is supposed to continue.   

Its a big mental shift when you know you're totally solo, and in a lot of ways it was a good shift.  I continued cranking the pedals, and shaking out my hands to warm them up (oh yeah, its like 30° / -1 °c).  My hat got blown off my head twice, for the first two times of the trip (Laurine and Ambar, I know you'll understand how significant that is).  I was cursing loudly at trucks that passed too close, and generally not having a lot of fun.  Then about 35km into the shit a car passed with my friends I met on the ferry.   They stopped and I warmed my hands in the car, ate some sausage and drank some coffee and got some hugs.  Pretty girls sure do lift my spirits.  There was a town in 5km where i was going to warm up, and probably would have just slept at, but the physical and mental boost I got in that car was enough.  I didn't even stop when I passed that town.  I made it 75km to Shetpe and checked into a motel.  I tried contacting Omar, but nothing.   

It was worth it getting to Shetpe, because although the wind died down a bit, from 24 to 14mph, it stayed from the NW.  And now i am going East for 90km.  It was a great day, there were actually physical features on the landscape and tons of camels and horses, and I was cruising!   I ended up doing 140km and made it all the way to Cay-Otes.  By the evening the wind had died down, and although I was told there was a hotel in that town I kind of felt like camping because it was supposed to be too windy for my tent for the next few days and I just did the hotel thing the night before, but mostly because the town was 3km off the main road and I didn't feel like doing that twice.

It got real cold at night, low 20s or teens, not sure.  I was just barely warm enough with all my stuff, my toes were definitely cold.  I woke up with a post nasal drip.  I packed up my ice covered tent in the morning and got riding asap to warm up.  The wind had shifted 180° again and started picking up strength.   I'm heading NE, wind from SE.   At least it wasn't in my face, and not on the side with the trucks.  I made it to a roadside "establishment" about 75km away.  All day it was a struggle to keep my hands warm, and keep my face covered and I kept having to suck the boogers out of my mustache.  It was the first building of any kind I saw all day, and wasn't expecting anything at all until Ustyrt, 25km further.  It looked very closed but then I saw someone inside.  I gestured the "I'm cold and hungry" international sign language.   And he said they're closed.  I gestured again more forcefully and he let me in.  I ended up cooking my own food on my camp stove and sharing it with him and we had a good time, and he hooked me up with a room to sleep in.  It wasn't his business, he was just friends with the owner and stopped there to sleep or something, still not sure exactly.   

I was nearly asleep in my room on some colorful floor mats in my sleeping bag when i hear some commotion outside.   Shortly after this goofy trucker guy just walks into my room, which I was actually pretty happy about.  We hung out and I helped him shine some lights on his truck since his phone was dead, and he ended up giving my some weed, which was a nice surprise.  Normally when someone tries to give me something I refuse once or twice and then accept if they still insist,  but I took that shit right away.  

In the morning it was super windy and super cold, not sure temp exactly, since I didn't have any internet since Shetpe. but the old forecast said it was 20° (-6) and 25mph/41kmh wind from the SE.  I set off trying to get 109km to Beyneu, but after 25km my hands were totally frozen and I was feeling rough.  This was the town I was planning on getting to the night before, Ustyrt.  So I decided to just stop here.  The first place I checked was totally locked up, but the other (only other visible building) opened their doors and beckoned me in.  It was pretty simple, no chairs, just floor mats.  No running water, and it was basically just an extra room in some guys house, but I slept and ate there.

I woke up early knowing the wind wasn't supposed to change and got myself mentally prepared for riding straight to Beyneu.   I wrapped my handlebar and hands together into a blanket, which worked surprisingly well, but also kind of trapped me into one position.  I think I only shifted gears a couple times because it was so complicated.   There was a sign for a rest stop (don't try to compare it to an American rest stop) in 60km about 15km back.  So I rode straight  there at a steady 14kmh.  I was wearing two wool hats and a facemask, and one of my glasses lenses was iced over and and there was absolutely nothing to see, not even any camels.  My poofy jacket was flapping violently in the wind the entire day.  I got to the rest stop and found some shelter from the wind (but still outside) to eat some cookies and then just kept going.  After about 65km the road turned to go due north, even a bit NW at times and i knew i was over the hard part.  I went from pushing HARD to go 14kmh to coasting at 30kmh.  It was the hardest day of the trip by far.  Mostly due to the mentality of just having nowhere to stop, and nothing to see.  

I got to Beyneu,  got some food, saw that trucker who gave me weed, tried to get a sim card and got a hotel.  I took today off to wait for better wind, and to get some supplies.   Beyneu is the biggest town so far, and I won't be at another big one for a long long time.  While it was pretty interesting to walk through the bazaar looking for things like mittens and hot sauce I would have taken a Walmart over the cultural experience in a heartbeat.  Tomorrow I start my long line of SE travel.  The wind from the SE is supposed to lighten to 12mph tomorrow,  but that'll still probably suck a lot.  But then I should have a couple days of tail wind.  Should be a nice welcome into Uzbekistan. 

Dogs are people too

Croatia was great.  The Rocky coast and the clear blue water makes for great scenery.  It was kind of cool riding on the same road I was on 9 years ago when I was bike touring.  I met a bunch of other cyclists, and had a nice couch surfing host, but by the time I rolled through Dubrovnik I was ready to get back into the craziness.  Everyone spoke English, the roads were well paved and easy to follow, and although it wasn't busy tourist season it was still pretty touristy.  I was ready for the unknown, where people don't visit, where shit is real. 

I rode up over some big mountains into Bosnia and had a nice hammock spot with the Adriatic Sea in view for the last time.  Then I pretty much just blew through all the way to Montenegro.  I didn't have any local currency so I just didn't stop.  At the border station there was an stray dog barking, I biked by and stopped a few houndred feet further to put my passport away etc.  The dog lost its shit, but then another dog apparently took notice of the first dog barking so crazy that she came out of her spot.  She was older and wiser, and I beaconed her over, she approached very cautiously, and with a limp, but then as soon as I pet her she was in love.  She rolled over and was loving all the love.  She even let me examine her foot, which had a pretty deep cut in the pad, but nothing too bad.  The other dog was her puppy and it chilled out once I was petting it's mom.  I pulled a few ticks off and just enjoyed the company of the dogs for a while then biked off.  The road was really remote, and beautiful. 

After a while I found a roadside restaurant and had a decent meal.   When I got back on my bike it was getting close to sunset so I just rode for a bit and started looking for camping spots, which there were plenty of.  Not too long after, I passed by a dog on the road.  It didn't bark or anything.   I stopped a houndred feet past it and whistled and it ran over enthusiastically and then approached me in the most submissive and and nervous way ever.  Again, as soon as I showed it some love it was in love.  This one was pretty young and very healthy.  No ticks.  I figured it would be nice to have some company so I let it follow me to the first camping spot I found.  It was genuinely the happiest dog ever.  I didn't give it any food, but it was super grateful for a bowl of water.    I decided not to set up my tent in fear that the dog would mess it up. There weren't any mosquitos so I just slept out on a tarp.  It was a beautiful stary night and I stayed up watching Netflix.  The dog curled up in the grass a few feet away from me and was quiet the whole night, despite other dogs barking in the distance. 

I was already thinking it would be hard to leave the dog in the morning, it was really in love with me and it would definitely try to follow me...  In the morning my sleeping bag was completely covered in dew, and much of that dew had frozen.  I looked up and the dog was still there, so I dozed off again hoping that the sun would dry me off.   When I woke up again the dog was gone.  I was a little surprised, but also relieved that it had something else going on today and maybe wasn't as bonded as I thought it was.   I started hanging up my still totally wet stuff in the sun and putting my stuff away when about 10 minutes later the dog came bounding up, and he brought his girlfriend!  She had a raggedy collar with a couple feet of chain still attached to it.  Jailbird! She was more cautious than him, but I could see that she was excited.  When she came over she happily received about 30 seconds of petting before running off to do dog stuff. 

I couldn't really mess with the collar too much because the boy dog kept trying to turn it into a cuddle puddle, but I could see that the metal links on the chain were super worn down.  The girl was off sniffing stuff when I heard her bark, me and the boy dog went over to check it out and it looked like she found a ground squirrel or something in a hole.   I went back to eating spoonfuls of imitation Nutella and peanut butter for breakfast, and the boy dog checked her hole out then came and sat politely while I ate.   I gave him some peanut butter and whistled for the girl to come get some too, but she didn't come.   I went over and upon closer inspection she wasn't sniffing a hole, she had gotten her chain stuck between some rocks and she was stuck.  She looked embarrassed and she had given up.  No struggling, just sitting awkwardly with her neck pulled down by her chain.  The boy dog wouldn't leave us alone so I tossed him some cheese and I took out my knife and cut the leather collar.  Initially she was just happy to be unstuck, but after a couple minutes she just became totally estatic, running in circles, rolling around, playing with her boyfriend etc.  She probably had that chain and collar on her whole life, and I'm guessing before she broke free life was total shit.   But she was still much skinnier then the boy, and that chain kept hitting her legs and dragging and making noise, and with it finally off she was just so damn happy.   I gave them both some cheese and water and then I packed up and started feeling bad for getting these dogs so excited about life and their new best friend (me) only to abandon them.   As I walked my bike to the road the boy dog followed my every step, tail wagging the whole way, saying, "where we going!?" The girl wasn't far either.   But I had a plan, and I had a downhill for a quicker escape.    I put some peanut butter in a little jar I found and walked with the dog into the bushes where the road wasn't visible.  I gave it to him and walked away, and initially he left it and followed me, but after I held it for him to get a couple good licks he stayed to get the treat while I got back on my bike and booked it down the hill feeling a bit heartbroken.  The girl saw me and started chasing after me, and the boy saw her running and quickly started sprinting after me too.   I had gotten a decent head start, and I was going pretty fast but they followed for a while.   I was slowly leaving them behind, but I could still see them running in the distance.  Towards the bottom of the hill there was another dog.  This one was dead, at least I think so.  In the exact middle of the road still looking very cute, probably very recently hit.  I didn't stop, and the next time I looked I couldn't see the other dogs.  I doubt they ran past the dead one.   All I could do was imagine their past and their future, and all the suffering and how I was just some crazy anomoly, a tease, a heartbreaker.  They were good dogs, I hope they find some good humans.

The ups and downs of Spain

Every time I felt ready to leave Morocco,  and just book it to the ferry something amazing happened and I was so happy to be there.    Once I got to spain I felt a bit of relief,  in that everything should be a lot easier (language barriers,  cultural familiarity, drinking water, stealth camping etc.), and at the same time a bit bummed out that I'm not in such a new and exciting place anymore, and won't be for a while.    Europe basically feels like America with more techno music.   I lined up my first couch surfing host of the trip,  which was really nice.   I rode along the coast,  which at times was pretty, but mostly was pretty bad roads for biking.   I was either on a pretty major highway, or I would get off and be riding through very slow moving traffic or beach boardwalks which only went for a mile or two before I had nowhere to go but get back on the highway.  It was really nice having a host lined up,  I just rode into the cool night (the days are stupid hot) with no worries.   I got to Jose and Ornella's place and bought the first beers of the trip, and damn did they taste good.   The Moroccan mint teas were great,  but there's no substitute for a cold beer after a long ride.    Jose and Ornella were great hosts.   They were patient with my Spanish, and very welcoming.   I sleept until 11, and then we're spent the afternoon swimming at some ancient Roman cold springs and eating and drinking at a restaurant.  

 I left in the evening once it cooled down a bit and found a decent stealth camping spot.   But yeah, despite Jose and Ornella's recommendation, riding along the coast sucked. Not only are the roads bad but there is just nothing but tacky hotels and overpriced restaurants and everything else that you can expect at any other coast in the USA etc.   I made it to Malaga the next day,  and after talking with a guy at a bike shop I headed up into the mountains on a "classic" climb.   It was a tough one (5-9% for 16km),  but nothing compared to what was to come.   I had a great meal and then found a camp spot in the dark right next to a road that was closed off to cars.   There are basically no bugs at night, so I haven't been using my tent  which has been nice.  

The next two days after that were ROUGH.  My directions took me on some really bad roads, with some super steep climbing,  14% on dirt roads with short sections up to 19% (they put cement down for the really steep parts). I went through some beautiful scenery,  but mostly it was just farm land  with no shade and brutally hot sun.  I aimed for some free hot springs at night,  which were nice, but definitely not a place to camp (the hot springs were free but it was surrounded by a hotel etc). I was stuck finding another decent stealth camping spot in the dark.  I was already feeling a bit sick, like a cold, but that night it fully developed.   I couldn't sleep well because of my sore throat, and I woke up with a full sinus headache etc.  I stopped at the first town to buy cough drops.  I asked if there was also a place to buy bread,  and they said not this early,  but then went in the back and brought me out a frozen baguette for free.   Then,  an old lady in the pharmacy told me to walk her back to her house,  where she gave me a nice sausage and sweet almond loaf.   Not bad!  I only went about 50k to Granada,  and it was rough.   Bad roads, not scenic,  and super hot.  Plus these damn flies kept following me everywhere.   Most of the day I was going so slow that the flies kept up easily,  and when I went fast they were magically waiting for me at the bottom of the hill.   It also message dropping really unpleasant.  I got to Granada and drank a liter of fanta and then took a nap in the hammock while I wrote couchsurfing messages.   Despite feeling very sick I decided to go to the local rock climbing gym.  It was a great decision. For 5 euros I did some bouldering and got a hot shower,  and got recommended a good place to camp next to an outdoor bouldering spot, and it was a good thing too because I didn't get any responses from couch surfers,  and finding a spot would have been very hard.   I woke up here, expecting Jesus to meet me for some morning bouldering, but, just like most climbers,  waking up was hard and he bailed.   Probably for the best,  because I'm sick...  I decided to rest here all day.  And it's been pretty nice.  It's been a really long time since I just did absolutely nothing all day and didn't go anywhere.   In the evening when it cooled down I did some bouldering and met some locals doing the same thing,  which was sweet.   Now I'm cooking some spaghetti and feeling slightly less like staying home from school. 

Mountain Hospitality

From Fes I rode two days through the Riff mountains, through endless fields of marijuana and olive trees (pictured) towards Chefchawen, a city where you have no freedom of choice in house paint color.  

I stopped at a small cafe in the evening of the first day to get a coffee to push me the final 30km to a spot that looked like good camping.  Apparently by changing my clothes before coming into the cafe I showed great respect (I was told later). I was  Immediately invited to sit at a table where some guys were drinking coffee or tea and smoking hash (as was everyone in the cafe, and every other cafe I passed). through Google Translate we actually had a great conversation, and they were extremely friendly.  The local hash maker gifted me a nice big chunk, and kept giving me more every time he took one of my rolling papers. Eventually the conversation got to where I was planning on sleeping that night, and I told them, although I kind of hinted that I didn't really feel like biking the rest of the way there. Didn't take long for them to figure out which one of them wanted to host me. Said (guy pictured) ended up calling someone from the town that was attending English school to come over and help translate.  Oussama was a really nice young guy, and after all the discussion where I was gonna sleep I ended up just staying with him and his family, which was a really great experience. They immediately showered me with olives and fruit and bread and fish.  Dinner is a late night thing in the summer months in Morocco, so we ended up hanging out, his brothers and father and I, until around one o'clock in the morning. I slept outside under the stars which they didn't find odd at all, in fact the father of the family, pictured, also preferred to sleep outside, and he slept a few feet away from me.  

I made it to Chefchawen  Pretty late last night, just in time to get a nice sunset pic. I somehow got locked out of my phone, so I had to just wander around to try to find a place to stay, which was pretty difficult with the bike, since every street include stairs and is super narrow, and only ment for walking or donkeys. Somewhat out of desperation I accepted the offer to stay in this dudes house.   I was kind of hoping to find a cheap hostel and link up with some travelers,  but this was fine.  I am now taking a day off,  chilling in the hammock,  and later this afternoon I'll bike 25km to a rockclimber's hostel and try to make use of these shoes Ive been carrying around.

Diarrhea persists at a very tolerable degree.    Just enough to remind me this shit is real.  

This is fun

After making  it over the atlas mountains I restocked in "Morocco's Hollywood " and then took a recommendation to head to Finnt, a desert oasis where I treated myself to some Berber hospitality and took a rest day (video of drumming dudes were workers at the hotel).  I left the next evening and had a sunset ride on the dirt road to another undeveloped  oasis where I camped under the milkyway.  The next day I was crossing open and barren desert in 105° heat until I got to the Dadés River valley.  The next day was spent riding through picturesque towns in and out of the Dades Gorge.  I made full use of the cool morning  and evenings and found a nice spot to pitch a hammock during  the afternoon.   

Today, I woke up at the sources the Dades,  and started heading up over the atlas mountains up above amazing canyon landscapes butting against  dramatic mountains.  There was nothing for 60km, and the whole time I was on the "piste" road i only saw the following  people: Three women on foot with heavily loaded pack mules, a couple on a scooter, a car, a truck, three goat herders, camels, a nomadic  family, and another truck. It was a dirt road, but actually I kind if get it now, the whole gravel riding thing.   This road was perfect.   Challenging in all the fun ways without the road ripples and sand traps.   The ascent was long, with the hardest non-stop section climbing 900m over 12km of especially technical gravel roads.  10,000ft elevation at the pass.  The descent was a ton of fun, there were super technical  sections  where I was standing up and and riding the brakes hard (I love this bike).   And there were other times where I was just cruising in top gear on hard clay and gravel, even catching some actual air several times hoping little road bulges.  I even did some semi-technical single track riding on the switchback  short cuts.   Full suspension without panniers would have been a blast, but there's something  pretty  satisfying  about doing it with this rig.  I stopped at the first sign of civilization I saw which was a little  cafe run by some young dudes, one of them spoke Spanish.   I hate and hung out and played guitar for a few hours, then descended the last 16km of dirt roads to the first of a string of towns (and the beginning *spotty* asphalt). These towns were definitely way different  from the ones on the other side of the pass, seemingly  much poorer, and the people looked more turkic.  The people in these upper mountain towns, and the herders and nomads I saw on the pass definitely made the whole thing feel way more foreign then before.  The rest of Morocco has kind of just felt like Europe built out of adobe, with an Arab twist.  Except the desert part... that was nuts.  These mountains felt like a world that the west hasn't influenced at all, a culture that is completely foreign to anything I have any idea about.  Plus lots if kids screemed and chased after me asking for stuff, which is annoying, but I landed a couple of solid high fives.  Now I'm back down to about 7,000ft in the middle of the mountain range, back in the sort of towns I'm more used to.   I'm gonna spend another $20 for a hotel with a shower and meals and wifi.   No complaints here.  5 stars.

Day 3: The day my perfect stealth camping record was lost.

This evening I climbed a ton of elevation and took some nice long rests.   The days are so hot I thought it might be a good idea to do more riding in the early morning and late evening.   After a great meal at a scenic overlook I did some descending in the cool evening air.   I passed by some potentially decent camp spots but I was feeling like continuing.   After the descent the road immediately went to shit.   Major construction work was being done, and that also meant all the areas on either side of the road were inassessable. Eventually as it was about to be dark enough to warrant getting lights out, I pulled over to look at a potential spot along the river.   There was another guy chilling there on a bicycle and he told me I should go back to the last town I passed and sleep there because the river is dangerous and the road is bad ahead.   I really  should have just kept going...  I told him I preferred to sleep here and then he pointed out another spot, behind a giant rock that was not so bad.   He said he worked security for the town/construction and he would prefer I went back to the town but this would be ok too.  I thanked him and started setting up my tent.  He left.   45 minutes or so later two other guys came, they wouldn't have seen me from the road so they must have been tipped off by bike guy.   They also were security officials (actually just one was, the other came along to help translate).  They also said it wasn't safe here.   Thieves, murderers etc etc. Apparently a couple years ago two Norwegian tourists were killed in a town called Imlil, which is like 40 miles away, also in the mountains.... Bitch I'm from the 9th ward, fuck off and let me sleep.  I told him I feel safe here and I would prefer to stay.   After some back and fourth he called his boss and after taking pictures of my passport they said I could stay here, and apologized for bothering me and for scaring me (they didn't).  "Good night, thanks!"   Then, about another 45 minutes later, after I'm nearly asleep, three actual police came.   I heard them pull over and it took them another 10 minutes or so until they actually found me.   God damnit, y'all are starting to piss me off.   Everyone was very friendly, but still, come on!  They told me it was very dangerous because of the river (no mention of thievery etc)   Apparently there was a land slide earlier today, they showed me pictures, which didn't really look like anything other then construction work.  my guess is it was equally due to the construction and the river.  He said the weather can change at any minute here in the mountains...   It was perfectly clear, and there was no rain in the forecast at all... Plus the river was bending such that if any eroding riverbanks were to be avoided it would have been the opposite side of the river.  This was absolutely not a dangerous spot for anything river related.   I tried reasoning with them for a while but they were firm and eventually I just gave in.  They assured me I wouldn't have to pay for a place to stay.   At this point I just want to go to sleep, and I'm thinking they're going to take me to a room at the police office or something like that.   I packed all my shit up, which isn't that fun when you just finished setting everything up like 15 minutes ago, and rode the mile or so back downhill to the tiny Town, surprised to see it was still bustling, at 11:30pm.   When we got into the town I pulled over and asked the cops, who were following me, where I should go.  They had no fucking idea... Fuck.    Security guy number two was waiting there, and they asked him and he just walked across the road to a little ditch and the pointed to a little area walled in on three sides, full of trash, smelled like piss, completely visible from the very loud road, and clearly a spot where people come to collect water.   You gotta be shitting me.   They said " you can sleep anywhere, is this okay? it's totally safe here!" I said this sucks, but I don't know where else I can go in this town, so if this is what you're going to offer me then I'll take it and leave me alone already.   They had nothing.   I told them to just leave me alone and let me sleep, I was pissed.   Once they walked away I looked around the area for a better spot and there really wasn't anything at all.   I went in to one of the abandoned cement dirt floor rooms which was providing one of the three walls for the original spot.  There was even more trash in there as well as a few puppies.   At least it had four walls and was quieter, and well hidden.   I started moving my stuff there and security guy #2 and a new English speaking guy started telling me that it was bad there because the dogs were dangerous.  Puppies.  Fucking puppies.  Granted, the language barrier was pretty huge, and I don't think they actually meant to say dangerous.   They also said it smelled, but I was so sick of these guys "looking after me" so I said it was fine, but actually it smelled really fucking bad...  So then I jumped up on the roof, where the young English speaking guy was, and it looked like the best option, so I said I would just sleep up on the roof, and that seemed to satisfy everyone.   So now it's 12:30,  and this town is just as busy and noisy, if not buissier then it was when I originally passed through it at like 8pm.   I'm just sitting up on this roof, not going to be able to to sleep... English speaking bro is still up on the same roof, now with 3 buddies smoking hash.  So yeah ...   It's an experience, not fun, but it's an experience.   In all my years of stealth camping I've never ever had any people give me shit... There goes my perfect record.... 

1am update... There's still mother fuckers selling cactus fruit....   I guess this is a spot where busses stop to let people out to pee and get tea etc, so everyone here is just waiting around trying to sell shit.   Apparently the busses Keep coming all night until 4am... Yay.  And the honking... every bus wakes up the entire town when it rolls in by honking  like a pisssed off soccer mom.   Oh, and I've seen like a dozen people come take a piss where the cops told me to sleep since I've been sitting up here.

Up until these shenanigans, today was actually pretty great.  I had a chill morning in the hostel in Marakech, smoked some of the hash I bought the day before and started riding out.   Marakesh was cool to ride through on a bike but that's it.  I got creative and fashioned a sunshade poncho thing with the airplane blanket.  I ate some good food. And the hills were beautiful.   I got some diarrhea... I guess I shouldn't be drinking the water they give me at these restaurants where goat carcasses are just hanging up, outside, not refrigerated at all.  Doesn't seem too bad though, my guess is I'll be good to go tomorrow.

Day one: The Chalmette of Casablanca

I've been waiting for the past month or so to get fully pumped.  I thought the excitement would kick in once I asembled the bike and peddled out of the airport.  But it didn't.   I was in a daze, after not sleeping in 24 hours, with the night before that spent sleeping on a bench in the airport.   It took me a full two hours to assemble the bike and pack it all up, and by the time I finished the cool morning had turned into blazing hot summer sun.  Instead of heading 20km north to Casablanca, I headed south into depressing industrial and agricultural landscapes and eventually a small town.  The Chalmette of Casablanca.  Still in braindead autopilot mode I stopped at a bank to change money, and then one of the cafes for an espresso and fingers crossed for some sort of delicious breakfast food.   The friendly waiter brought me over the standard stuff, and then spilled steamed milk on he table and me.   No biggie.  After some sitting and some caffeine I was starting to get my head in the game.  I tried to pay my tab but the waiter refused to accept any money.  As I rode through this strange and ugly town, with no main attractions,  no notable architecture, along side mad-max style motor-trikes, donkeys, and people just going about their days, I finally broke out into a smile, which turned into laughing out loud at how rediculous my situation is.   "What the fuck am I doing!?" I said out loud mid laugh.   I quickly passed the town and with a mild tail wind just got to biking.   Highlights include a tractor pulling a trailer full of people banging on drums, and a little kid walking down the street that reached out for a high five, which landed perfectly.   I'm 50km into the trip.  In the next little town, stopped for lunch at a very disappointing shawarma spot now as I'm typing this.   I'll probably ride another 50km to a river which looks like promising hammock camping.   Tomorrow I'll wake up to this new rediculous life, likely with a smile on my face.   I think I'm going to drink a lot of coffee in Morocco...