Haven't we met before?

Fri 9th Jan

It is time we were heading to Tangier, so we leave the Rift Mountains and head on. The scenery becomes greener and more and more villa complexes start to appear. After a number of false hopes, we eventually find the one remaining campsite; all the others have been developed!

Sat 10th Jan

On the approach to the docks there are hasslers upon hasslers, trying to sell ferry tickets. We decline all of these thinking that once we inside the port, even if it costs a bit more, we will know we are buying an official ticket, from an official person, in a hassle free zone. Oh, silly me! We are still in Morocco, how could such a foolish thought have entered my head?

Immediately inside the port we are accosted by a hassler, herded to a ticket booth whilst being given the hard sell. We ignore him the best we can and manage to compare prices and sailing times as shown on the various ferry company boards. As it turns out, the one he is pressing is the first to sail. He seems pleased when we go for this one but then his face falls when I insist on paying by credit card. We get our tickets and return to Fay with our hassler still in tow. Now, of course, he wants paying for his services! Here, I will admit, I took the greatest delight in telling him in no uncertain terms what he, and all his fellow Moroccan hasslers, could go and do! I could pretend to be pious and say I was making a stand for all disillusioned tourists, that I was proving that not all white, gullible looking English women are mere cash cows but the truth was, that just for once, I wanted to redress the balance, to get my own back. I'm ashamed to say, that revenge was sweet but unladylike! He looked shocked by my outburst. Good! He was supposed to be.

Making sure that this time, we have got all the necessary stamps in our passports needed to leave the country; we don't want to make the same mistake leaving as we did arriving, we head toward the loading bay. Who should be there, checking passports, other than the very same policeman who had stopped us from entering! He recognises us, makes a joke about tea and coffee, asks us where we have been and wishes us a good journey home. We must have made an impression for him to remember us after all the countless people he must have seen enter and leave his country, since our arrival! We won't bother to consider just what that impression was, we will just assume it was our charm and good looks that stuck in his mind!!!

As we sail towards Spain, we recall our month in North Africa. We have mixed feelings, for a mixed country. There were many positives but there are also negatives. When summing up Pakistan, we called that a raw country; in summing up Morocco, the word rough is more apt. Many, many moons ago, I worked in a Travel Agency for a while. Back then "rough" was always how Morocco was described but then, it was in a derogatory way. Now I would use the same word but with different emphasis. We have seen terrain that is rough and rugged, met people who are rough and ready, witnessed sweet natured Abdul trying to ease the rough lives lived by his fellow villagers and yes, there are still campsites that can only be described as having rough standards. Not all of Morocco is rough though, near royal residences there is a definite smoothness. This same smoothness can be seen emerging from the numerous new villa building sites. As with Pakistan needing to retain a raw edge to maintain its identity, so Morocco we hope, will retain an element of its roughness (just in the right places though!) It is what makes it Morocco.

On whether or not we should return to this country in the future? It is a split decision. Richard feels there is "unfinished business" here. He sees the potential for off road biking in the mountains and desert. For me, it's not on my priority list. Not that is, unless it is to fly straight to the Sahara, jump on a camel and ride off into the desert!

Safely on Spanish soil, tonight we reach Cadiz, an attractive city. There are no campsites and it is too dark to find suitable wild camping, so we stay in a 24hour car park. There is no call for prayer wailing out, we in a public place yet remain un disturbed, the price for this - three times the cost of a campsite in Morocco! Welcome back to Europe!