January 12 :: Ouezzane, Morocco
January 12 :: Ouezzane, Morocco :: 69 km / 194 km total
The temperature dropped precipitously last night and I was wearing almost everything I had, to stay warm while chatting with other travellers in the courtyard of the hotel. This is offseason but Chefchaouen is one of those places (like Fes and Marrakech, ahead) that'll never be empty. Your usual mix... a guy from Cork (Ireland), a girl from Tucson, and a poker dealer from Diamond Tooth Gerties, Dawson City, Yukon. Even though I'm in Africa it IS Winter here, I'm high up in the mountains, and the bone-dry air does not retain much of the daytime heat to carry over into the night.
I set off very early on this chilly morning to give myself the outside chance of making it to Fes today. The "problem" I faced was accomodation - between Ouezzane (at 69km) and Fes (at 200km) there was NO place to stay... so it would either be a very short day in the saddle or a very long one. After a thundering descent out of Chefchaouen the road continued with the tough climbs and pleasant descents from yesterday. The road itself was beautiful, the scenery green and rolling with an underlying sandy soil.
Nearing Ouezzane the climbs became agonizing... but Ouezzane itself marks the end of the Rif mountains, and the approach to it was beautiful and heartening. I had crossed the Rif, no more true mountains until I attempt to cross the High Atlas in about a week (inshallah). Rolling into town it was still early, 10:30 a.m., and I asked around about the hotel possibilities between here and Fes. Alas, the Moroccans re-confirmed that there was nothing for the next 131km. I was feeling decent, but decent is not enough for a 200km no-tailwind, short-daylight day, so I had to call it off. I checked into an aging colonial hotel and fell asleep.
The predominant Western language here is French, with Spanish being second (only locally, being so close to Spain at the moment) and English third. After the perennial Islamic greeting "salaam alekum" I offer people French or English... 9 times out of 10 nous parlons en francais. The food has been good, Middle Eastern with European influence. The major industry of the region (after tourism and hashish) seems to be olives; I've passed numerous olive oil co-operatives, the road is always slick and sticky for a kilometre or so downstream from them. I was chased by a few dogs today, another surprise; from my experience its only in Western countries that dogs get enough to eat to be able to play in such fashion. I wonder if "percentage of dogs that chase cyclists" could be used as an economic barometer...
The temperature dropped precipitously last night and I was wearing almost everything I had, to stay warm while chatting with other travellers in the courtyard of the hotel. This is offseason but Chefchaouen is one of those places (like Fes and Marrakech, ahead) that'll never be empty. Your usual mix... a guy from Cork (Ireland), a girl from Tucson, and a poker dealer from Diamond Tooth Gerties, Dawson City, Yukon. Even though I'm in Africa it IS Winter here, I'm high up in the mountains, and the bone-dry air does not retain much of the daytime heat to carry over into the night.
I set off very early on this chilly morning to give myself the outside chance of making it to Fes today. The "problem" I faced was accomodation - between Ouezzane (at 69km) and Fes (at 200km) there was NO place to stay... so it would either be a very short day in the saddle or a very long one. After a thundering descent out of Chefchaouen the road continued with the tough climbs and pleasant descents from yesterday. The road itself was beautiful, the scenery green and rolling with an underlying sandy soil.
Nearing Ouezzane the climbs became agonizing... but Ouezzane itself marks the end of the Rif mountains, and the approach to it was beautiful and heartening. I had crossed the Rif, no more true mountains until I attempt to cross the High Atlas in about a week (inshallah). Rolling into town it was still early, 10:30 a.m., and I asked around about the hotel possibilities between here and Fes. Alas, the Moroccans re-confirmed that there was nothing for the next 131km. I was feeling decent, but decent is not enough for a 200km no-tailwind, short-daylight day, so I had to call it off. I checked into an aging colonial hotel and fell asleep.
The predominant Western language here is French, with Spanish being second (only locally, being so close to Spain at the moment) and English third. After the perennial Islamic greeting "salaam alekum" I offer people French or English... 9 times out of 10 nous parlons en francais. The food has been good, Middle Eastern with European influence. The major industry of the region (after tourism and hashish) seems to be olives; I've passed numerous olive oil co-operatives, the road is always slick and sticky for a kilometre or so downstream from them. I was chased by a few dogs today, another surprise; from my experience its only in Western countries that dogs get enough to eat to be able to play in such fashion. I wonder if "percentage of dogs that chase cyclists" could be used as an economic barometer...
posted by Graham Durrant at 8:59 AM
2 Comments:
The maps attached to the blog are great - very easy to follow.
The pictures you posted are very sharp and detailed - keep them coming. Especially of people you meet (if they don't mind).
usually i shy away from taking photos of locals, but i'll get on it. regarding other travellers, sure, if i'm hanging out with them for a while. for that to happen, though, something bad has to happen to me or the bike!
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