Now where was I?

Oh yes, on our Christmas 'dip to toe in the water' trip.

We took the ferry from Almeria (in Spain) to Melilla (in Spanish Morocco). For someone used to cross channel ferries, this crossing bordered on the bizarre. There seemed to be no plan (we were sent to the top of a multistory car park, only to be sent straight back down again), and the staff (all of them) gave the impression that this was their first day. Once on the boat, things weren't much better - the restaurant only opened briefly, about four hours into the crossing, long after hunger had passed.





Still, we got there, and then had the border to face. Another time I would go to Nadir (i.e. Morocco proper, instead of a small bit of Morocco the Spanish have claimed) and deal with customs on the boat. The border was pretty chaotic and something of a culture shock. Every time the gates briefly opened there was a rush of humanity loaded up with all manner of items fantically trying to get back into Morocco to sell their wares as soon as possible.


BD, a mate (and Dakar old hand) from just up the road from us, had given us some routes to try out. We had good instructions and GPS points - but hadn't worked out how to upload the GPS co-ordinates. After about 30 km on road, we turned off road and started to follow a canal and then it was truly off into the wilderness - just the three of us.


I was navigating well (I had no idea where we were - other than on the route we had decided to follow) and all was well in our world. Although it was dark by the time we decided where to stop for the night - but I think that was just an excuse for a camp fire (that and the fact that it was perishing!)