Disneyland ain’t so bad…

Moving north I quickly entered the dreaded tourist zone of Morocco, and it would have taken an especially cruel god to wipe the smile off my face.

I was back in a land of well paved roads that draped themselves effortlessly over the hills and valleys.

But where the buildings- from ancient single family steadings,

to small walled hamlets,

to full on kasbahs still managed to feel exotic and,

well, rocking!

Close to Tafroute and Jean Vérames rather faded 1984 painted rocks I found it even harder to complain as good tourist hotels started to appear where I could enjoy a bit of a normal experience, while waking up to a view far from it…

Even my problems became something to chuckle over while riding…

I had been riding mostly off road interspersed with a couple of gravel tracks, using my GPS and a topographical map to keep my bearings when I passed this little hut and noticed that I must be completely off course.  I was sure there was one line of hills between me and the coast.  There was no way that there should be room for more…


I know it’s hard to see in the pic, but just beyond the first line of hills you could really see another line of slightly higher hills.  So, concerned, I drove around in circles to check that my GPS’ compass was working properly (the unit itself was on its last legs), I then looked around and tried to pic out some higher and/or more distinctive hills that I might be able to recognize on my topo map…   I was just about to go into my pannier and dig out my old fashioned compass when I looked at the hills very carefully and saw the second row of hills for the stupid clouds that they were!

Bring on ‘It’s a Small World!

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