Across the straights into Africa - 14th January 2009

After a few problems with the previously established ferry discounts, we were away on the 11am Tarifa to Tangier speed-ferry. Africa here we come.

It was a fairly clear day, and throughout the journey it was possible to see both land masses either side of the 9 miles that separate Europe and Africa. From a coastline I know quite well, with the grassy hills of San Roque forming the backdrop behind the distinct shape of the rock of Gibraltar, to a complete unknown for me, in the shape of the gateway to Africa, Tangier.

We had heard of previous groups having problems with this particular port, with some cars having there car completely strip searched and bribes needed to be paid before being allowed to leave. Fortunately for us, there were no such problems. A small gift to a customs Police officer of 2 EUR and a Ministry of Defence Yorkie bar from our ration packs provided by Woodbridge Cadet force, ensured we were through relatively quickly.

With the lack of an African Tom Tom, we were on our own now, to navigate our way out of this frenetic port town. After an accidental quick lap of the highlights of Tangier we were on the road to Fes. (Did you know, people from Tangier are called Tangerines? .... although I might have made that up)

Getting used to the local traffic rules, or the complete lack there of, is going to take some getting used to. The road took us through many small towns of derelict half completed residence blocks where the signs of poverty were obvious. The two rally cars were attracting positive attention with smiles and waves from the so many people that seem to be doing very little other than standing around. Every time we stopped the locals were intrigued as to where we were from and where we were going. As we told them we were on our way to Bamako we were wished each time with a laugh, “Good travels in Morocco”.

Fes is an intriguing city that was once the capital of Morocco. We chose to stay in the old town, Fes El Bali - the Medina, which lives within the fortified wall surrounding the city for hundreds of years. Getting in and out, and finding our way around proved to be a challenge to say the very least. We ended paying a local chap to get in the car with us and guide us to a car park and a hotel. We were a little apprehensive as to the security of the cars in the chosen car park, and fully expected them to be stripped bear when we returned the next day. In hindsight this was probably a little unjustified and unfair on the local people, who other than being a little bit pushy for the opportunity of being our guide, seemed a very friendly bunch of people.

The least said about the hotel, the better. In a star rating system, it might struggle to get 1 spike of 1 star. But hey, it was a bed to stay in at the end of a long day.

We originally thought it would be best to lose the guide at this point and explore the city on our own looking for a restaurant or a bar. Through much persuasion we eventually agreed to follow him, and were very grateful we did. The maze of the 9400 narrow streets, alleyways, steps going up and down, amongst a complex building network of 1000 years old, had us disorientated in minutes. The restaurant was charming and we tucked into a giant feast of local food.

Finding some form of nightlife in here would provide impossible, so it was back to the Luxury Palace for the best nights sleep we could get in a freezing cold room.