From Surrey to the Sahara

Bike upgraded and now fixed (I think)... and so ready to go to the house to be packed with gear.

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Packing complete - Normally I hate packing, but this has felt cathartic and quite pleasing organizing everything into places. I've tried to think about how each bag will be used and what I'll need to access and when. My friend, Rachel, who has done a similar trip a couple of times said having a tent is useful as there were a couple of places that she'd loved to have camped. And then there's a domino effect of: Tent, leads to sleeping mat, then you need cooking equipment and so on. I'm also really excited to try my new Mosko Moto Nomax tank bag on this trip. it's a little different to a regular tank bag in that rather than it being a single compartment to chuck stuff in, it has layers with elastic straps and little pockets, so everything has it's place. I'm hoping this will make life on the road, less chaotic. I'm not sure if I have too much stuff or not enough. Either way I think I'll find out when I'm on the road. Time to leave... I'm feeling nervous and excited.

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Where the magic happens. To be clear: Magic = lots and lots of much needed sleep after our weekend of late night silliness.

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The weight of my bike was worrying me. I want to go find some off-road fun, but it was so heavily laden that it would be hard going and picking her up would be exhausting. I called my friend, Rachel, who went to Morocco earlier in the year and talked about what I could cut. I swung by another friend's flat (who lives near the ferry) and had supper with them. I have left my tent and all that stuff, cooking stuff, and a big pile of things. Maybe the lack of tent will mean I miss a few things? But I can always go again in the future. 🤷‍♀️ I'm pretty sure that I've culled 25kg (!!!) of stuff and now Gertie handles much better.

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Exciting times ahead

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We just passed Ushant and are heading south towards Biscay and Spain. Despite feeling a little superior about the kind of banal activities on this pseudo cruise ship / ferry, I went for a walk as the Lighthouse talk was happening and it was super nice. The guy presenting was passionate and interesting and the scenery is barren and beautiful.

Day 3 : First day in Spain Wow. Long day. Apparently just short of 600km. Highlights -In the morning I rode through wonderful twisties amongst little towns and rugged hills. I'm definitely interested in exploring this region more. - At one point a bird of prey swooped down and flew along side me. It was for maybe 20 seconds and it was almost close enough to reach out and touch. Very magical experience. - My lunch sandwich was utterly incredible. Just bread and manchego cheese. But really wonderful to a tired human. Weird aside: the roadside cafe had a huge arsenal of knives for sale. - My hotel is an old castle and it was super fun riding through the old town right into the courtyard. There are amazing views of the town and countryside from my room - The beer I am currently drinking. Lowlights - my gopro camera fell off my helmet. Incredibly I caught it (with my left hand) before it fell to the road - the weather was pretty brutal in the afternoon with really strong cross winds that made riding past big trucks a bit scary Love to you all Soph x

I'm definitely feeling very unanchored from the rhythm of normal life already. I just realised I had no idea what day of the week it is until I took my medication and saw the weekday and I was like "AHH Thursday eh?. Ok I can work with that".

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Today's plan is to go that way, but it's very very wet out there. It's gonna be cold

☝️Advice from a friend. I sat outside watching the weather and see the torrents of water rushing across the courtyard. I even loaded up the bike and got soaked doing it. Then I considered how dangerous this potentially is. So I'm following her advice. I think this is a day of relaxing in my literal castle. There's worse places to be trapped.

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On the plus side, Gertie is now clean.

Yesterday, I arrived in Cordoba I didn't know anything about the city before arriving there. It is stunning. My pics don't do it justice. In stark contrast to the castle, I stayed in a hostel in the old town. It was super nice except, there was no parking, so after eught hours on the road, I had to lug all the gear off the bike and ride to a parking bay and walk back. This morning, I went to the Hammam, and was scrubbed, soaked and massaged. My achey body needed this love. This afternoon/ evening, I rode through the mountains to Algeciras. My new Garmin has a brilliant feature that finds adventurous roads. On the one hand it took nearly 6 hours to do 150m... On the other... They were incredible twisties with amazing scenery. Tomorrow will be a rest day before I make the crossing to Morocco. Love to you all Soph x

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Short off-road section between Olopesa and on thursday. It's not much technical but it was my first time properly off road (alone) with all the luggage on Gertie and I was a little more nervous than I should have been.

And some pics from today

Go to Spain, they said. It will be nice, they said. It's insanely windy and stormy today. Hopefully the weather will improve for the crossing tomorrow.... But it looks unlikely :-)

My ferry to Morocco ☝️ I took a day to do not very much yesterday. Partly because of the insane rain and partly a mental health day. Currently waiting to board. Crossing is apparently 90 minutes. Then will ride to Chefchaouen this afternoon. Love S x

Europe..............Africa Finally, the weather is amazing too.

CAT Insurance, complete with actual cat. (Well I thought it was funny) (I may be spending too much time on my own)

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I'm in Chefchaouen, which is known for all the blue buildings. I pulled up near my hotel and almost immediately a man approached saying that they would move a car so I could park outside. He turned out to be the owner and he said he guessed a bike would be staying at their hotel, so came out to help me. The hotel is lovely and I'm now exploring the city.

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Today, I personally discovered a long lost Roman city. You're welcome. Really weird thing though. There was a big group of tourists doing pics on the main bit, so I waited. Then the last one of them asked if I wanted her to take a picture of me. I said yes. Then as she handed me back the camera, we realised we had the same nails. Four pink, one blue and the same finger blue. I asked if she often did it and she said "never... This is my first time doing one finger different... You?". I answered "same. First time for me too". Weird coincidence. After that, I rode into Meknes.

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Moon

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Well... I'm sure this will make those of you that have done this trip before smile gently as I get excited by a first sighting of something soon to be common place, but I'm seeing all these magical things for the first time and it's exciting. Today I saw my first camels. It's a pretty cool feeling that I've ridden from home to a place where there are camels. 🐫🐫🐫 I can't quite tick off the bucket list item as I have to see them doing deserty things, ideally with a sand dune behind them. I think that will be really soon.

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Had a bit of a mishap. I'm physically ok.

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Temporary repairs completed, which should allow me to limp back

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However... We made another discovery... Whatever hit the brake also destroyed 3 of the spokes and distorted another 3.

Broken Bike Update I mentioned my issue to a rider at my hotel. Suddenly I was surrounded by babbling swiss people all trying to fix it. They had a plan to take the caliper off and plug the banjo (which connects the brake line to the caliper) with a machine screw and a nut. Unfortunately their bodge was worse than my bodge and it ended up spraying brake fluid with each operation of the brake. Then more people arrived. More loud conversations and babbling. Lots of experts. They tried to reassemble it back to the way it was before their idea... But it leaked badly when they tried to reassemble it. At that point, I walked away to a safe distance because there were now 10 or 12 shouting swiss men all arguing around my bike. When the crowd of experts dissipated, I decided to fill the banjo with epoxy. This means that the caliper is off the bike and I should be able to ride it.

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On the plus side, the evening in this canyon, where my hotel / Kasbah is, is spectacular

Broken Bike Update This pic above was meant to be explained. During the epoxy fix, we discovered that whatever hit the wheel took out three spokes and distorted three more. Tomorrow I will have to decide if I should gently ride to find a mechanic to repair the spokes or whether I should first try to relocate some of the good spokes to give coverage in the damaged area. This is not something I know much about, but that's a tomorrow Sophie problem.

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Broken Bike Update I had planned to ride south to find a mechanic who might be more able to fix big bikes Vs the more local little 125 and smaller ones. My friend messaged me to point out how riding with these broken spokes "things could go south quickly". He suggested finding a mechanic asap and maybe moving good spokes into the gaps to get me there. At breakfast the three guys that I made friends with yesterday said that the hotel owner knew a mechanic that had fixed the bike of someone at the next table. Hers was a KTM 690 (which is, at this level, not wildly dissimilar to Gertie in that it's a big adventure bike rather than a little 125). So he's called his guy and he just arrived. He is taking the wheel and says he will have it back in an hour and half. In the mean time, I'm sitting in the sun drinking (the consistently terrible Moroccan) coffee. I spent the morning riding around Merzouga — Gertie feels amazing without all the luggage. Ali gave me the full pitch on every type of Berber carpet. I made it out with only a couple of postcards. Moroccan breakfast is reliably excellent: mint tea, juice, local breads with jam, butter, and amlou (argan oil + honey + almonds).

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It's kind of ominous that this hotel is called Hotel Kasbah Jurassic and I'm hearing something in the bushes that's either a toad or a velociraptor.

Broken Bike Update: The mechanic came back after 2 1/2 hours and the wheel looks pretty good. One spoke still slightly bent, but it's looking pretty good. He then chipped all the epoxy off and sealed the banjo with the screw and nut 🔩. I tried to convince him to reattach the broken caliper, but he was immovable saying (I think) "this is better. It will not leak". So 🤷🏼‍♀️ On the plus side, apart from one very slightly bent spoke, I think I'm good.

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🎵 On the road again 🎵

I've arrived at Merzouga on the edge of the sand dunes in the Sahara. The ride in was amazing along a lush valley of green. Then slowly the desert started to change from rubble to dustings of sand. And then the first glimpse of sand dunes in the distance. It was so exciting. Again, the thought that little old me has ridden from leafy Surrey to the desert with sand dunes. Feels like a big tick in the life box. I was grinning from ear to ear as I arrived into town. However, as they say, pride cometh before the fall. And as I was turning into the town, there was a slight dusting of sand and debris in the road and I almost lost it. However I managed to save it and ride on. It would have been so ignominious to go down a mile from my hotel especially after the drama of yesterday. I arrived in my very beautiful hotel where I'm going to rest for the weekend

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A short about today's slice of the adventure

(Not sure if the above is cultural appropriation, but the Berber man did it for me and he seemed very keen for me to know how, so I assume it's ok)

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Today is a working day for me (first in a while), but this seems like a pretty good spot to do it

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This hotel has been quite an extravagance really, but it's been lovely. The food has been really excellent and the manager very friendly and attentive. But one amusing quirk is that much of the staff only seem to be able to say "bon appetit". They say this when bringing food. When taking food away. When passing in the corridor. At all times "bob appetit".

One of the little differences that I like here is liberation from the misery of excessive choice. You arrive in a hotel and they ask "would you like dinner tonight?" You answer in the affirmative and they tell you a time. You turn up...and that's it... You get presented with dinner. It's more like eating at a friend's house than being given lots of choices. I'm not sure I realised that there was cognitive load involved in selecting food from a menu, but it's super relaxing having someone else decide for you.

Today I rode up the Todra gorge (not pictured). I have some video footage which encompasses stuffing scenery with the voice over of an idiot just saying "wow" over and over again. After that, I rode north up into the mountains. I think the roads and villages had been hit with the quake as the roads were in poor condition for stretches here and there. It is often said that big adventure bikes like mine are just for middle aged dentists that want to pretend they are butch. They're too heavy for very serious off road stuff... But as the road turned into cratery mess, Gertie just ate it up. It was actually the perfect kind of adventure for her... Anyway... The route took me from the warm valley into the chilly mountains. Many of the towns were very poor looking, but everyone was very friendly. So many waving children. And the scenery was vast. Pictures can rarely capture big vistas and the way they make you feel, but this was awe-inspiringly big. I then arrived in Imichil, which is a little gem. The Dades Gorge is a truly beautiful ride — mostly paved but deteriorating significantly in places. The ride up to Imilchil through rugged mountain scenery with badly deteriorated roads was one of the more adventurous riding days of the trip.

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Bit chilly tonight. Got back to my room after a delicious dinner to find the hotel manager had lit the fire in my room.

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Eveyone's seen those "there are two wolves within you" memes. I'm slowly discovering that this is true of solo travel. All of my previous trips have been shorter and more focused, so learning how to be on walkabout (ride-about) is new to me. So... There are two wolves within you: One that wants to push on to the next place (but is tired all the time and has shallower experiences) and the other that wants to go slower, absorb a place and rest a little (but always feels guilty of the lack of forward momentum) I'm working hard on discerning what I want more than what I "should" do. Today, I woke wanting to do some work, but feeling guilty about staying in one spot. After wrestling with the wolves over breakfast, I decided I knew what I wanted and when I'm feeling inspired to work, that's too good an opportunity to pass up. So I'm sat next to the kitchen in the auberge working; exercising professional muscles that have been neglected for months. It feels nourishing and stimulating. Also - this is not devoid of new experiences. The hotel has had a group of local women arrive (to clean the hotel) with their children in tow (it's kind of hard to see women interact with each other here). I'm also passively listening to the owner and his wife pottering in the kitchen and generally observing the comings of the town and goings out of the window. It sounds small, but it's a small glimpse into life here rather than blowing on to another town. Also, the owner came up to me and said "you have laundry... you must have laundry... we can do today". This is something that was becoming increasingly urgent and he just took the issue away. This afternoon, I'm going to ride (sans luggage) to a nearby lake and explore the area a little Tomorrow I've probably got a longer ride to some waterfalls called

Tonight, two loud men are in the dining room. They have been asked if they want to eat, when hearing a yes, the server began to walk away to prepare the food. The shouted after him "spaghetti Bolognese! Spaghetti Bolognese! Bolognese!". Much confusion ensued and they tried to explain what they want (when really the only options were tagine or cous cous). Local men came from outside to help negotiate the meal. No Bolognese is to be had. So they will indeed be having tagine.

Now they are trying to order a bottle of wine. Loudly.

They have been offered water or coke

There is a repeat request for alcohol. The negotiation continues in loud french. The loudness that one has with a foreigner that can't be made to understand.

After discussion... And the owner stepping out to pull his friend in. More loud repeat requests for "vin". They have agreed to send for it from a town down the valley on a motorcycle. It will take around two hours to arrive. This appears to have placated them. For now.

Well... Today did not go entirely according to plan. It was incredible but some mishaps will share more later. But for now, I am enjoying the warm evening and sunset by the pool.

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Evening all, A few of you asked about yesterday's "mishaps"... Here ya go: (Also - this is also a sneak peek at what the finished video series will look like)

Today, I rode from Skoura over the Atlas Mountains (R307) to Cascade d'Ouzoud. The journey had three distinct phases: a fast straight road, then brutal switchbacking past rockslides, then descent into a lush green valley. This Riad has a central atrium with a tree growing through it. The bathroom reminds me of Luke Skywalker's house on Tatooine.

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Today was incredible. Again. I rode through the atlas mountains from the south in between Skoura and Ourzazate to Cascades d'Ouzoud. This was the first hard evidence I saw of the earthquake damage with multiple landslides, badly damaged roads and a couple of villages with government issued tents. The ride up over the mountains was pretty rough, but intense fun. I was making slow progress at 20km/h for much of it, but it was worth it. Unlike the stark barren beauty of the previous days riding, this mountain route was full of green and lush beauty. If the last ride was the grand canyon, this was the Rockies perhaps. Eventually, I passed the top of the mountains and was greeted by amazing, vast flat landscape. Truly awesome. Then the second half of the ride was beautiful sweeping tarmac roads, loud music and raucous speed. After nearly six hours to do just 120miles, I've arrived safe and sound at the riad, maybe 100m from the falls. Tomorrow, I will do the walk to the bottom before work. Big day ✌️😁👍

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View from the top of the Atlas mountains (altitude 2.2km)

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Today's been a work day, so minimal adventuring, but I managed to walk down to see the waterfall during my lunchtime. This may have been a mistake as the are a bazillion steps and I had to do it a little quicker than was ideal to get back in time for my call.

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The ride through Marrakech to my hotel was intense. I just stopped for coffee on the way to Marrakech and met a big group of BMW R1250GS's from Moto Adven Tours. The R1250GS is the newer model of Gertie — externally almost the same, new engine and fancier suspension.

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Text update as pictures were not possible. Today I visited the Hammam. These are public bath houses. I've been to fancy and luxurious ones for tourists before but was really keen to find something more authentic. A week or so ago, when I was up in the mountains, I was going to use the hammam in the local village, but chickened out. I guess I was worried about not having the right stuff or taking my clothes off when not supposed to or leaving them on when supposed to take them off... Just general anxiety about being a stupid foreigner and causing offence. So, I thought if I went to one in Marrakech, they would probably be more used to guiding people through the experience, and I could then use the ones in other places, knowing the drill. I found one that was supposed to be authentic and less of a luxury spa. When I arrived, there was a man at the door who took me through winding corridors, then out the back through grubby Marrakech alleyways. We paused by a dark opening, which was a black pit with a glowing hole in one face with two men down there. My man told me this was the fires for the hammam. They were tossing logs in that were stacked in the alleys. Arriving at the entrance to the women's hammam, he left me. I went down and in and paid the entry price. Inside it is very basic and the opposite of the luxurious ones I've used before. The woman led me to a waiting area and left me. There were local women chatting on the benches and sprawled around. It was really interesting to see them interact and chatter away because I've not had many interactions with women so far in Morocco, I sat for a while and was eventually taken to be given a towel and a locker key and told to get undressed. I was then led by the hand through the main hammam space. There were maybe ten other women sat on the floor with buckets chatting scrubbing each other or sometimes being scrubbed by an attendant. My naked hammam woman was old, probably in her early seventies. She bade me to sit on a mat on the floor and proceeded to very vigorously scrub every inch of my naked body. There was staggering amounts of dead skin that came off. Occasionally she would rinse by pouring cups of hot water from one of the three buckets on me. She didn't speak any English or French and I speak only three or four Arabic words, so communication was pokes, prods, gestures and smiles. It was a very physical experience as she'd bend me one way or another or sit me facing away from her between her legs as she washed my hair or back. It's kind of hard to explain, but it was very different to the spa-like experiences I've had in the past. I think I wasn't really prepared for how childlike I felt at different stages of this part of the experience. I was reminded of washing my daughters and caring for their bodies when they were very small. After that, I was led out into the waiting space and stood being naked and confused for a while... another woman took my hand and led me to a room where I had a relaxing if not, slightly strange massage. Then I was led back to the waiting area and I put my clothes on while I had tea. I emerged back into the sunlight feeling quite discombobulated much as one does after seeing a matinee and emerging into the light after.

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Just had a super fun evening in the main square. If you haven't been here, in the evening , a hundred or so near identical pop-up food restaurants appear as the sun sets. The men try anything to pull you in. I was told -"mine is the only one with no diarrhea for five years" -"I love you. You very beautiful. You eat with us" -"This is my mother. She will cook for you. Eat with our family" I also got a marriage proposal. Upon reflection, I may not accept. And my favourite was when one guy shouted "hey sister, you're back!" And the guy at the next stall shouted "shut it you fool!... She's not your sister... Come eat with us sister!" And I got mildly scammed. One of the women that paints henna popped up in front of me, shoved her little book with photos of painted hands into my hands... then grabbed my hand and started painting it. I tried to pull away saying "no... I don't want this" she said... "no don't worry... just a little flower"... I kept trying to pull away and when I extracted myself, she said "give me 300" (which is about £25 / $32). I gave her 6 (about 50p / 60c) and as she shouted, I scurried off into the crowd. It was a super fun experience and a stark contrast to my life in quieter places and travel with the bike.

This hotel in the heart of the Medina is less than £40 / $45 per night. There are cheaper ones to be sure, but this is obscenely nice for only a few quid more. One lovely touch is every time you come back, someone comes to greet you with "Welcome home".

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Today was a bit of an up and down one for me. I did some work in the morning, then went for a walk to go and find some sights. I ambled around some of the areas where the locals seemed to be; There was quite a different vibe to the medina full of tourist farming stores. Then I went to find the Saadian tombs which were exquisite but I wasn't hugely feeling it. However, everyone there was far more interested in looking at the tiny stray kittens that were living there. To be fair: Super cute. Suddenly I found myself feeling very emotionally flat and exhausted, so I went "home" for a lay down for an hour or two. I felt very sad and lonely. It took quite a lot to force myself to get back up and change my scenery. I decided to go find a big bowl of pasta and a glass of wine in a nice place I'd seen yesterday. I sat their lovely roof terrace with a nice view of the city and the atlas mountains and read while eating my comfort food. When I got back to the hotel, I met and chatted with a group of older Australians that I'd been getting to know over the last couple of days. They then asked me to join them for a drink back out on a roof terrace over looking the main square. It was exactly what I needed and the evening's combination of familiar carbs, wine and an hours easy company helped me feel a bit better. I'm really looking forward to getting back on the road tomorrow as I think the change and the ride will reset my brain. Love to you all. x

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I just spent a miserable hour searching every bag, pocket and orifice for this. It is a credit card sized thing I keep all my memory cards full of pictures and video. For some reason, it wasn't in its place. I wasn't very kind to myself. Crisis over.

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What an incredible day. I was taking a road south from Marrakech that is known for amazing twisties and general fun. But unfortunately I had the wrong head on and so decided not to push it. I had a bit of a black mood and continued to feel anxious. The scenery was stunning and I stopped at one cafe view point and immediately a group of Malaysian tourists descended on me and wanted to each have pictures with the bike. Then with me. Then with me and the bike. It was very sweet and kind of absurd. 15 minutes from my destination, Garmin told me to turn off. And there was a sign saying Air Benhaddou 10km and pointing down this stony piste. So I was like "welllll okaaay then..." After 30 seconds I knew I had done wrong. It was pretty intense piste with regular gullies intersecting the path. At one point, the navigation says to go right, when left was clearly better. I went right and ended up in a deep sandpit. A few minutes of profanity and wheel spinning I was back on my familiar, gravel and stones insanity rather than the sand insanity. I just got to my hotel and I'm bouncing from the endorphins and adrenaline. No longer feeling blue. The view here is... I think we can say... acceptable?

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The room here is much more rustic, which is super nice and the welcome here has been very warm.

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Yesterday's (mis)adventure clip

My Garmin's adventure routing is like riding with a slightly irresponsible, but fun partner. Today, I am riding from Ait Ben Haddou to Zegora. There is a fresh tarmac road, but my new boyfriend, Garmin Zumo, was "I think it would be better if we just went straight across the desert? You in? Nevermind, let's go." I just rejoined the main road, but ended up riding through the middle of a movie studio and got told off by security.

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Big Day. This morning, I crossed the river to visit Ait Ben Haddou and then headed off for Zagora. As I shared in my earlier post, I placed my trust in Garmin and it either let me down or delivered depending on what the desired result was. I had an intense adventure over the desert pistes. There was a water crossing. I found a scorpion. And almost lost it multiple times, but managed to keep charging ahead. At the end (as I mentioned in my earlier post, I approached this large industrial estate looking place from the desert side. I rode through it wondering if I'd strayed onto a military base or something as there was a tank, a gun and a chariot. Then I rode out towards the front gate and a the security man flagged me down and told me off for riding through the movie studio. After a long lunch, I headed south on amazing sweeping, fast roads. I don't have much to report except to say that the scenery was utterly breathtaking again. Somehow, I feel one of the measures of the area is the local kids. South of the Atlas mountains they are, almost without fail, smiley and waving and friendly. I got to Zagora and was immediately approached by a young guy offering to show me his garage. "Best in Zagora. Could fix anything I needed". I followed him for a little while mostly to appease him, then decided to look for a hotel. As I was doing that another lad approached and offered me the services of his garage, also "the best in Zagora". He suggested a local hotel. Booking.com confirmed it as good. He offered to show me the way, but I said no... He stayed with me talking at me along the way. I felt a little anxious as this had scam or something unpleasant written all over it. Then we went down a slightly sketchy looking street. And another. And then we pulled into the hotel compound... And... It's absolutely lovely. It has a pristene swimming pool and the rooms are fantastic. After the long, hot and tiring day, the cool, clean pool was very welcome. Love to you all, Sophie x

I didn't take many pics yesterday as there was a lot of riding and I wasn't in that headspace. I really hope I got some good video for later though. You can see two things from the pics at the top of the mountains...(1) it was very windy (2) I'm pretty tired - you can see it around my eyes. Today, I've decided (after much guilt and self torture) to take a rest day.

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Today was another (mis)adventure. I had a working day until late afternoon. My plan was to do the hour and a half dash down to Mhamed, a desert town to the south straight after work. It looked like an easy road, so should just be able to make it before sunset. I decided to stay in one of those Berber desert camps. I got to Mhamed and the office just before sunset, but the owner was nowhere to be found. I waited for a while as it got dark. I was minutes away from just finding a hotel and then he showed up in a battered 4x4. He says "ok you can leave your bike here or you follow". I said "how is the piste?" He says "not bad... little bit of sand. Maybe we move it out of the way... Not bad... You be ok" So I was like "okaaay" (because my general attitude is just throw myself into these things). Then more positively "let's go" The piste starts off as horrible, packed washboard piste with occasional patches of sand, but nothing I can't handle. The trail between the dunes is lit by my new flood lights, which I was really glad of. Then the sand gets deeper and it's pretty slippy. I'm sliding all over the place, but manage to keep going. Eventually I get stuck. We dig Gertie out in the dark. Another 400m later, I get stuck again. And we dig out. After the third digging out of the bike... He says "ok... You drive 4 by 4... I take your bike if you like". Normally I wouldn't let a stranger take her, but it was clearly the right response to this situation. So then after more digging, I follow this guy in his 4x4 as he is leads riding my GS relatively effortlessly across the sand. We got to the place after another fifteen minutes of some intense driving. The place is beautiful. And I'm nicely relaxed in front of a fire with a tummy full of food, listening to them drum and sing. Another amazing day.

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I write to you drinking a cup of coffee remarkable in that it stands out from a sea of uniformly terrible coffee in Morocco as being truly awful. However, such is the state of my relationship with coffee, that I continue to drink it sip after sip. Now that it's morning, I've been able to get a better sense of the place I'm staying at. It's about 5km into the desert and I now get a sense of why I struggled to ride here. "Little bit sand" Indeed. But it's very calm and beautiful here. The owner, Ismail, says that he has this place and another in the big dunes, Erg Chegaga, about 45km away. I'm contemplating making a trip there as they are apparently 350m high in places and better than the ones at Merzouga I was amazed by a couple of weeks ago. Equally well, I may just move on and find some other magical thing.

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My macbook has developed a crunchy quality to it. ⏳

Quite a quiet morning, but this afternoon my host, Ishmail said we would go to his other camp by the big dunes. We negotiated a price and once two other guests arrived, we headed off for a two hour drive into the deep desert. We arrived at the camp nestled between the vast dunes just at sunset. The combination of the golden hour light and the shadows deepening meant that it got progressively more beautiful right up until it was dark. I chatted with the couple, Helen and Bob for a while. Ishmail invited us to partake in his hookah. Then the rest of the evening has been similar to last night, with a feast, fire and live music. Later we will apparently go walk in the dunes to see the stars.

One thing is it seems clear that these men sing and play together not just for our benefit but also because it's what they do together. The chemistry and enjoyment that they take in it is obvious. Ishmail told me that sometimes they just go into the desert with a carpet, shisha, tea and their instruments and party together all night. I believe him.

Orion

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Last night ended up being very late, with me and the owner of the bivouac talking and listening to music in the dunes.

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This morning was hard with an 8am start following the 3:45am finish. I was so exhausted that all my french was gone to the point that I couldn't even respond to "ca va?". I just mumbled something incoherent in English and drank coffee. One of the joys of this segment of the trip has been the French. The two other guests (Ellen and Bob) were primarily french speakers and the locals are primarily french (or Arabic), so the conversation fell into French much of the trip. It was really enjoyable focusing on the flow of the conversation and realising that actually I was getting a lot of it for the whole evening. My ability to speak it is shite, but. comprehension is actually north of terrible. Either way, this morning, that part of my brain was not functioning. It was only an hour or so into our ride back through the desert that I was again assimilating the conversation. On the way back we saw an Ibex. (Left of one of the pics) Back at the base, it was time to collect my laundry, pack and hit the road.

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Ibex on the left. It's horns where enormous which you can see faintly if you zoom.

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Catching up on the map as it's been a few days.

I met up with my friend Rachel south of Marrakech. We decided to head south to Ouarzazatte and see if we had energy for more. When we got there, we decided to go to a place south west, that I'd not been to Tazenacht, a couple of hours away. Garmin, the ever mischievous little imp, sent us on a little piste fun. We swapped bikes back and forth. Her 250 and my 1200 are very different beasts with pros and cons for each. When we got to Tazenacht, we found there two hotels. The pictures for one had what looked like government issue tents. And the other one looked very spartan for the price. We decided to do another hour to a slightly better hotel for the same money. We got in an hour ago and wolfed down a big meal and are now planning tomorrow's adventures. Love to you all S x

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I know I say this every day, but holy shit: What an incredible, epic day. Today was nominally "ride south for an hour or two on roads, find a piste, ride it for 30km and then get to the hotel" The first bit was incredible. The road kept being broken and diverted into stony gravel craters. We did 20 or 30 of these. It was super fun, but made me feel a little anxious about this so called easy piste we'd read in the Morocco Overland guide book. Next was a wonderful road up through the mountains hunting for the piste. The only clue in the book was "before the copper mine". I wasn't sure I would know a copper mine, but when we saw it, there was a wonderful wide open piste. It was as non technical as a piste could be before being a road and we both charged along it at speed. Super fun. The next chapter was a ride through a gorge which was full of lush green jungley oasis palm trees. What made it epic was the orange towering walls of the gorge above the palm trees. I'm not doing it justice, but it was one of the coolest places I've seen. I cannot wait to show you the videos. Then we crossed out of that valley, over and into stunning scenery. Vast, vast landscape with huge hazy mountains lit by golden hour sun. And then once I thought it was over, it all changed again with enormous Flintstone style boulders piled everywhere. Imagine what the Flintstones house was made out of. And now imagine a whole valley just like that. We just got to the hotel after 8 hours of epic riding. I was in the pool 3 minutes after getting our room key. Looking forward to an indecently large supper. Love to you all

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A question that someone asked that I just realised is non obvious and should probably be shared

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This hotel is in a massive valley surrounded by wonderful, mountain scenery and the light this morning is 😙👌

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Another classic Sophie (Mis)adventure, guest starring Rachel* Apologies for the radio silence over the last few days. We had an intense desert adventure which we made it through, but we needed to take a day to recover from. If you'd like to read about it have a look at the attached. Love Sophie (& Rachel) *In case you missed it, Rachel is my friend that flew in to ride with me for a week.

Gertie has had six weeks of adventure on the road. She's been in filthy cities, deep sand, bounced around on stony riverbeds and parked nose first in a thorn bush. I thought it was time to treat her to a spa day. 💅🚿🧼🪥🫧🧹✨🤩 I asked how much and he said 30dirhams, which is about £2.30 or €2.60. He's been cleaning her now for about 30 minutes!

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Taroudant is a walled city, which makes this car park come of the coolest I've been in. It's nestled just inside the ancient fortifications and the juxtaposition is really pleasant.

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Today was a day of contrasts. R and I wandered around Taroudant. It's a walled city and a little berber city for locals, almost free of tourists it seems. We were pretty much the only white faces we saw. Consequently it has the authentic joy of seeing Moroccan people just going about their business. We planned a short ride up into the mountains on a pass called Tizi N' Test. The approach to the mountains was a long, straight road. I enjoyed having juvenile fun overtaking cars. Every time, I approach mountains and see a wall of mountains, I always feel a frisson of excitement. There's something about the way it looks like a vertical wall. We rode up onto the mountain and soon I saw a small town that was utterly flattened save one or two buildings. It hit me in the chest. It's not hard to empathize. Imagining people going about their day and the apocalypse comes and destroys everything. Family, friends killed. Homeless. It is hard to describe the difference between seeing it on TV and seeing it with my own eyes. Very moving. We rode on and saw more. Clusters of tents. People facing a frigid winter in these mountains. Occasionally, I would see an astonishing vista and feel happy and free. Then remember what I just saw and feel sad and conflicted. It was a confusing juxtaposition. We stopped for a tea at a little cafe. It was a kind of shack. There was a child playing on a small, local Moto. Pretending to ride it. I beckoned him over to Gertie and invited him to sit. He was too shy. But one of the adults encouraged him. He sat and they took a photo of him. Then a slightly older girl asked. This was excellent as the girls are often more reserved. I helped her on. And she posed with and without me. Then her friend. And lastly an old woman dressed in traditional dress. I don't believe this was for our benefit as it was all taken on their phones. It was a fun interaction. The owner of the cafe showed us a photo of the old cafe, before the earthquake. Then he walked us over behind the cafe and showed the carcass of the building from the photo. Behind, the whole village was a tent city. Again, a very powerful experience. They told us our hotel was destroyed. We rode on thinking "worst case, we go to Marrakech". We rode on. The surface of the road was quite damaged from rock slides. And one little highlight was drifting through a little waterfall. The hotel was more or less unscathed and we got a warm welcome from the owner. He told us that there were 50 dead in his village. His family was sharing a tent with ten others. Again, moving stuff. We quickly met a couple that had been on some interesting Overland adventures and traded stories. And over dinner, Rachel invited a solo traveler to join us. He was walking south and had come from Casablanca. I was tired after riding a high spec motorcycle through Morocco; The prospect of walking it seems daunting. Tomorrow, we go to Marrakech. Love to you all Sophie x

The ride down on the north side of the Tizi n Test mountain road has been very emotional. Entire villages utterly smashed. Tent shantytown town after tent shantytown. Some buildings were barely recognisable as such, just piles of human detritus. I had a little cry at one point. Rachel seems similarly effected. Today, in my Kasbah hotel, I met this lovely human, Cecradi (@a.cecradi). He asked about my trip then said he'd been cycling in Africa — 44,000km. I am tired after a month on a high-end motorcycle around the easy part of Africa. He's a total badass, humble and friendly.

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Taken in Taroudant a few days ago.

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I just said goodbye to Rachel, my traveling companion for the last week. I had a wonderful time adventuring with her for the last week. Our last 48 hours in Marrakech have been brilliant. Yesterday was a day of contrasts. We spent the morning getting oily and dirty servicing Gertie. On the way out of the garage, I saw a wheel hanging on the wall. I asked the owner what bike it was for. Unfortunately not mine. We talked about my wheel issues.And I showed him the new spokes. They were super loose now, which was a little shocking. He offered a cast wheel for 150eur. I said no as I want a spoked one. Then as I was riding away, I thought "this wheel could disintegrate at any time". 150 EUR on the 3000 km trip home is 5c per mile for safety. My kids deserve me not to take that risk. So I went back and asked them to fit the new wheel. Next we went for a Hammam. This was a private one and so quite different to the public Hammam that I went to last time. We both left glowing. And in the evening we went to a rooftop bar with cocktails, great food and brilliant music. We danced like idiots. Now I'm back to riding solo. Next stop, the coast (I hope).

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Most of the ride yesterday was motorways. Before I left, however, I got lost in the medina for half an hour. For context these are tight alleyways and markets, sometimes barely bigger than the bike rammed with people and local mopeds. By the time I found the hotel to load up, my clutch hand was aching. Not much to report from the motorway ride apart from another electrical failure on the bike. I think I'm aiming for a full bingo card of warning lights by the time I get home. I saw a dam and a large reservoir which was quite cool, but the most interesting thing on the motorway was when it cut through the mountains (in a man made pass) and began to descend relatively quickly, the flat plane of the valley floor appeared to be at 90 degrees to me. It was like that visual in the movie Inception*. After a few moments of staring at in, my brain software began to rectify the optical illusion and the receded back into place. After the mountains, I turned west towards the sea. My first fleeting glimpse of the atlantic was exciting. Then the road came closer and followed the coast north. The buildings were really modern and it felt like being in California or an affluent part part of southern spain with fancy, large modern houses nestled in the hills. A strange contrast to the mud houses of the villages of the south. I rode through the place I thought I was staying, into the hills above. And my "beachfront" property turned out to be 2km from the sea. It is a large, very modern building with very stark furnishing. It feels a little like a Scandinavian prison. The man welcomed me in a very kind way. But I was tired, missing Rachel, the hotel was like a morgue and the room amplified the sense of loneliness. I asked where the restaurants were and he indicated that they were a ride away. I went out and two places declined to serve me (for unspecified reasons). I felt dejected and too tired to continue to invest in the evening. I returned to the hotel, stopping at the little shop in the suburb and bought some pringles and chocolate and went to bed with an episode of TV. I woke twelve and a half hours later (with my laptop on top of me) and am now having breakfast in the sun. The sea is indeed visible (as a small triangle in the distance between two buildings). That's marketing I suppose. Last night I had resolved to move, but this morning I think I will stay as I have not done enough work hours while Rachel is here and this place has really fast internet and is free of distractions. *I'll put a picture of the thing I mean from the movie in case you haven't seen it. I could pull a pic off the GoPro, but I think it was an optical illusion created by the software in my brain rather than the hardware of my eyes.

Advice that Rachel gave me right at the start of the trip

Hello all Sorry for the radio silence over the last few days. I had something bad happen to me a couple of weeks ago and it's been tough to deal with. Spending the week with Rach was a wonderful distraction, but now I'm solo again, it's been a lot. Essaouira is a wonderful place, but I can't seem to get my head back in the game. I made the decision that it's time to head out of Morocco as quickly as possible. So starting tomorrow, I'm heading home. Soph x

I'm now dashing northeast to get to Tangier for the ferry (either to Barcelona or Algeciras). I went to go and get my bike this morning and bring it to the hotel to load up. There were four other adventure bikes apparently on the same mission. I followed three local bikes into the medina. And was loosely aware of a whistling behind me. I rode to my hotel and there was a cop outside. I signalled ✌️and said "deux minutes". He nodded and said "D'accord" (ok). I got my bags and came out to find another cop outside. He started shouting at me quickly in French. Far above my rate of words or vocab. The security guy and original cop came over. And the owner of the hotel came out. Eventually it was explained to me that I was not allowed to ride in the medina. This, as multiple local motorcycles whizzed by. He says I have to pay a big fine. Next a french woman came over and got in his face. I could understand her. She was telling him to leave me alone and was gesturing at the other motos. They got into a heated argument. I started to worry that what might have been a fine and go, might escalate. I thank the woman and encourage her to move on. She begins to move away, then reengages with the cop. I'm starting to find the shouting very distressing, so... I burst into tears. This was not deliberate, but helped to diffuse the situation a little. The original cop is trying to calm me down a little. And the angry cop is now back in my face and realises I'm crying. He fills out a form, takes my papers and demands the fine. He rides off on his motorcycle. Original cop then says to me "I'm sorry about him. He is a racist. He is a famous racist. He hates the white people. Because of the french colonization. I'm sorry. We're not like him. He is a racist". Then he shows me his police bike on his phone - basically the more road focused version of my bike. I am just packing to leave and motorcycle/fine-me-cop whizzes back on his little bike. And *Plot Twist*... gives me a necklace. He says "This is a gift for you. I want you to have a good time in Morocco".... I then ask if I am ok to ride through the medina to leave. He says "yes" and rides away. Original Cop, then asks for my phone number "to check on me". I didn't feel able to refuse, so gave it to him. Then as I was leaving the gate to the medina, Cop 2 (who fined me) starts following me. I'm dreading another shakedown. And as we approach the edge of the city, he blows me a kiss and rides away. As I fly up the motorway, Cop 1 calls my phone every 15-20 minutes. I haven't answered. The whole thing was utterly bizarre.

After a staggeringly wet day riding up to Tanger Med port, I'm now sat in the queue for the ferry. Unfortunately my phone is probably dead from the rain today, which is super annoying. Also - I had a weird experience at customs. I got held for a very long time. They let maybe 2 dozen cars through as they kept me waiting. I just smiled when anyone official passed by. Smiles seem to help everything. I also shivered a lot. This was not an affectation as my boots were full of rainwater. Occasionally a cluster of uniformed officials came out to look at my bike with the papers. They would point. One even took photos. After an hour or so, the man came back with my papers. He said "we had problems because your vehicle was a car when it came in, but it's ok. you can go"

This has given me the opportunity to start drying my socks out on the engine.

Well... I've now made it back to Europe after riding to Africa without dying. I'm sat in the lounge of my hotel in Algiciras. It is the same hotel I left from: It's an oldskool, somewhat tired hotel, but it's buzzing with adventurers. It is the main hotel used as a staging ground by anyone about to make the crossing and I've had fun talking to people in the lobby and bar that are about to go south tomorrow and begin their adventure. This place feels different to me now... or maybe I'm different. Last time I was here I was about to make my crossing. I was anxious and excited. Now I'm full of memories and excitement at seeing my girls in a few days. My bike has taken a beating. she has no back brake, an instrument panel lit up like a christmas tree with warning lights I have a ruined phone, damaged camera and am substantially poorer, but I'm completely hooked. Already dreaming of other adventures. For now though my immediate priorities are: 1. Finish this beer. 2. Sleep 3. Tomorrow: Find somewhere to get my brows done - because I'm now at the stage where' I'm fighting the urge to walk into rooms with my hands over these face caterpillars. 4. Head north for the ferry to England.

Well... Life is fun isn't it? First the bar man came over and babbled at me in Spanish. I looked blankly at him. He then said "you understand". I replied "not at all". He smiled and then said "You've been here before! One, maybe two months ago! And you don't speak Spanish yet!" and he gestures up to the ceiling in mock exacerbation, though I presume it to God rather than the actual ceiling. The whole encounter is charming and full of banter. I then say "they speak French in Morocco!". Then he points and says "Next time... ok?" So that left me smiling. But that's not even the big thing... I've just heard from two friends that I know from the Burner community who are in Madrid. There's a chance that I will see them on the way up north, which is super exciting and a reminder that the adventure isn't over yet.

Priorities eh? This girl's motorcycle broke and she rode 3000km without a back brake. But what can she not live without fixing asap? Brows! Caterpillars are now banished for another four weeks.

However, I just realised how tired I look. All day I've been "why do I feel so tired??". Then after seeing this pic, I was like "yeah...it's because I'm exhausted"

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I'm in Marbella, on the south coast of Spain. I came here as I have a doctor's appointment on Monday, so plan to chill, sleep and eat amazing food. Marbella is a stark contrast to the mud hut villages and the tent shantytowns that we saw in the Atlas mountains and for that reason, I'm finding it a little too brash. On the other hand, my mental health is a million times better than I was a few days ago in Morocco. I had a wonderful time, but because of some difficult shit, I think I was right to get out. I took my first smiling photo today in quite a while and it's quite genuine. Old town Marbella is very beautiful. And I randomly happened to arrive 30 seconds before all the Christmas lights were turned on. I'd forgotten about Christmas. Last time I was in this town, I was recovering from surgery. I'm writing from a restaurant that I ate only a few days after that life changing moment. I'm eating the same meal, almost on the same day but many years later. It's an interesting way to bathe in nostalgia.

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Today has been an oasis. I have a little apartment with a kitchen. And bought all the stuff for breakfast in bed this morning. Small thing, but I've not had this to myself since I left and the solitude was wonderful. Then I went for a walk to the beach and stared at the boisterous Mediterranean. Next was a boozy lunch in the sun. I actually got sunburnt for the first time on the trip. After lunch I had a Thai massage. I can strongly recommend finding a Thai woman to beat the shit out of you for two hours. I got such a euphoria that I left with a huge giddy grin on my face. Now I'm having a pre supper warm up of cheese and wine on the balcony before heading back out to old town again. This has been just what I needed. Really ready to get back out on the road tomorrow. Love to you all 😘 S x

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Ok...I may have messed this up. I think I'm now too wasted and full of cheese to go out. I gotta dig deep. This motorcycle adventure stuff ain't for those that aren't prepared to do the hard things. You got this girl. Okay. On three... *Several minutes pass* /Takes another sip of wine.

To be fair - I mostly blame Rachel. I wasn't supposed to be left alone like this. Adult supervision required.

Ok... I just got up. Clearly far too tipsy to go out. So, I'm off out. Laters

I keep thinking my adventure is done and I keep being proven wrong. When I arrived in Spain, my friend Alex got in touch asking if I would pass through Madrid. I hadn’t planned to, as breaking Spain into three days would mean stopping before and after Madrid. I was looking at a long, cold day to get there. But on the other hand - Solo night in a hotel vs hanging out with wonderful people. I know Alex and Cristina from the burner scene - we met at a burn called Nowhere in a Spanish desert. 200km into my 600km ride, I was ready to be done for the day and had had a couple of scary moments involving slippy roads. I got two messages from Rachel (my friend that visited earlier in the trip) one was encouragement and the other was “now get on with it” which is 100% what I needed. I stopped again with 195km to go and had flipped from “I can’t do this” to “OK… I got this”. I arrived at Jorge’s flat (Alex’s partner), really tired and cold. I was a little nervous about meeting him solo - I think mostly down to tiredness and long day. But, he had a lovely way of making me feel instantly easy. I had a hot shower. Alex arrived and the three of us headed out for ramen with Cristina. We ended up staying chatting until 3:30. One of the places they mentioned was Segovia and Alex mentioned how seeing the Roman aqueduct was really cool in a way that was “more than she expected”. The next morning, I decided to ride through Segovia to see it. It was, in fact, super cool. I managed to grab a selfie or two before being chased away by police. The city looks super nice and I have filed it away as a place to stop over at on my next trip down through Spain. I just got into my hotel and have now warmed up. Tomorrow is only 200km. I am very much looking forward to seeing my daughters at the weekend.

The ferry was lovely. I met a couple of adventure riders in the ferry terminal and we went straight into a night of drinks. The next day, I worked a bit, dozed a bit and then met up again with Mac, one of the bikers from the first night. He and I spent the the whole afternoon and evening chatting and he was very agreeable company. He had got almost the same ferry out as me and had been to similar places, so had some very comparable experiences. It was a lovely end to a wonderful adventure. At the end of the journey, I had only 100km to go until home, but I'd decided to stay in Portsmouth as the combination of wrong side of the road, cold, dark, damp and end of adventure jubilation seemed like a dangerous combo.

Today, I got up with plans for a leisurely day before meeting the girls at school. I went to a cafe in Portsmouth for breakfast and did a bit of work. Then went outside, put my tank bag on the luggage rack, put my earplugs in, my helmet and gloves on and rode away. 30km up the road, I stopped for fuel, but was surprised to find my tank bag was not strapped to my tank. I remembered resting it on the luggage rack behind me outside the cafe. I think started to think about all the things in it. Wallet. Passport. Makeup. Jewelry. Camera batteries. A multitool. My map that I had marked on each leg of the trip. And... the 6 terabytes of video taken on the trip stored on memory cards. I felt gutted. I called Rachel for a chat. Mostly I just needed to share my misery and wallow in my stupidity. For two months that bag has not left my sight. And I lose it 100km from home. What an idiot. Rachel listened and said "maybe next time, put an airtag in it"... It suddenly struck me that I have a similar tracker in my wallet and on my spare keys. I then rode quickly to the location of the trackers. But nothing. The British Transport police was a hundred meters away, so I went to them on the vague chance. They said go to the main police station another 300m away. That police station was shuttered and long closed (thanks Tories). I picked up the yellow phone and explained to the woman I'd lost my bag. She asked "you're not on a pink motorcycle are you?". Apparently a builder saw it fall off and handed it straight in. A 20 minute ride to the area police station and I was reunited with it. Elation. Then it was a ride up to school. I wasn't expecting mych reaction from Robyn because she's a cool teenager now. But when she saw me, she sprinted across the playing field and gave me a big, long hug, then kept coming back for more after each hug. Dilly was delayed and similarly cuddly when she arrived.

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