The Vuvuzela Diaries

We left the flood plains of Essaouira braced for a few long days of driving. We were aiming to spend the night in Tan Tan but were delayed by a long stop over at the Majane store to stock up on supplies for the days ahead – it was the last Majane we would see! As night fell we decided to stop at a campsite outside of Goulimina. The place was run by a bunch of very chilled out Moroccan hippies and although there were no showers there were hubbly-bubblies (shisha pipe)! We had our first braai of the trip and spent the evening smoking hubbly under the clear night sky.

On Saturday morning we crossed the Drâa River for the final time and then drove into Western Sahara – the disputed country which Morocco claims as “Moroccan Sahara”. The first thing we noticed was the increased military presence as our Fiche’s were used up rapidly! The terrain was incredible. It was much flatter than anything we had seen before. On the left we had rocky desert and on the right the desert fell off a steep cliff into the Atlantic. At times we moved away from the sea and for many kilometers it felt as if we were driving through a giant construction site. At dusk we pulled off the main road about 30km before Laayoune and followed the track for a long way into the desert. Eventually we arrived at a small but immaculately kept campsite on the edge of a giant chott (salt pan). It was run by a friendly French woman and her husband and was completely self-sufficient. It was great to be in a secluded place away from the regular camper-vans. We enjoyed a peaceful night and awoke to colourful sunrise over the chott the next morning.

The drive to Dakhla was long and much the same as before with stunning, barren scenery, blue ocean and many check points! Dakhla, situated on a peninsula, is the last major town before the border into Mauritania. This bustling fishing town has a very chilled surfer atmosphere. We were unlucky in that we were three days too early for a large music festival and kite-surfing competition which apparently attracts up to 30,000 people! That night we free-camped on the edge of the ocean.

We used Monday for some much needed R&R! This involved a long run on the beach followed by a swim and lunch at a bougainvillea-terraced seafood restaurant. We also snuck onto the free wireless internet offered by the Great Western hotel and found the most amazing French patisserie and ice-cream café next door. “La Maison du Thé” comes much recommended for any African traveller seeking a little bit of extravagance! That evening we went to the Dakhla’s central market to buy fish, meat, vegetables and water. Finally, before setting up camp on the eastern side of the peninsula (for our quick get away the next day) we filled our jerry cans with diesel which is far cheaper in Morocco (Western Sahara) than Mauritania.

The Drâa Valley – 10 & 11 Feb

The evening of 9 January was definitely our most bizare yet! Having had dinner Neil and I were treated to a private “jam session” in the campsite with four locals who had whipped out some drums and an electronic keyboard. Helped out by shots of straight vodka our friendly quartet drummed the night away as we watched on in amazement at how pleased they were to be performing for such a small audience!The next day we left Tagounite to begin our drive back North towards Marrakech. Our route followed the Drâa Valley – an incredible palm-lined river dotted with orchards and large Kasbahs which are made using the abudantly-available mud of the Drâa itself. We spent the night in a campsite at the entrance to Tazentout where we were treated by Richard and Chippy to a dinner at a local restaurant. Ait Benhaddou was our first stop on the 11th of February. The enormous Kasbah, built by Berbers from the 14th century onwards, was on the other side of a river which could be crossed by donkey for the cheeky fee of 20 Dirhams. True to our South African principles, however, we all rolled up our trousers, took off our boots and waded across, much to the amazement of our European counterparts! The Kasbah was well worth the visit although it was a pity it was so geared towards tourists.

After lunch we continued north along the main road and decided to take a detour into Toulet to see a very old castle which had belonged to the Glourie Brothers. Despite the harrowing 21km drive off the main road this proved to be a very worthwhile excursion as the castle was magnificent and devoid of any other tourists. The highlight, however , of our day’s journey had to be the drive through the High Atlas. The pass took us up steeply to just below the snow line before winding down, swithback after switchback, through small villages precariously placed on rocky outcrops. That evening we stayed in a hotel just outside of Marakech which allowed us time to recover before our assault on the bustling city the next day !

Dear follower,

Well we are now on the cusp of Africa having driven the 2,000 km through France and Spain in four days. France was easy as we cruised through, pushing 110km/h and stopping for nothing other than “gazoile” to fill our incredibly thirsty steed! After spending our first night in Rouen at an over-priced hotel we met Neil in Bordeaux on Friday evening. The next day we pushed on through the Pyrenees Mountains and into Spain. As we drove through the range we were engulfed in snow and so we decided it was as good a time as any to stop for a Spanish meal. Not long afterwards however, Grant started feeling particularly unwell and soon went on to win the prize for first chunder of the journey! And that was only the start… what followed in the next 12 hours was a sickness that would put and Duzi-Gut or Dheli Belly to absolute shame! We spent the night in a “town” that felt like it was situated in a desolate spot somewhere between Reno and the Mexican border, a town where the Tache is sacred, a town where cats toy with the tumbleweed and the Coke comes in old scratched bottles.

Of course every cloud has its silver lining. Unfortunately our silver lining came in the form of a sheared bolt… That explained why our fan belt had been squealing for the last 1,000km. By now it was Domingo which meant that no mechanics were available. We thus used our Phone-a-Friend life-line and called Julian (see our Preparations page for an explanation on the huge help Julian has been to us)! He quickly diagnosed the problem and gave instructions which Mikaela and Neil enacted with pit-lane efficiency. Before we knew it we were on the road again, heading towards Cordoba via Madrid.

Monday the 1st of February (Grant’s birthday, although it felt more like calamity-day) brought on a new set of problems and challenges:

- 5:30 Paula wins a silver medal in the “first to chunder competition”
- 8:20 Leave Cordoba, no time for breakfast – we have a ferry to catch at 13:00 and we’re already late
- 12:00 Reunite with Andrew and Danielle at Algeciras – an hour later than expected but hopefully in time for our ferry
- 13:00 No ferry
- 13:30 Still no ferry – apparently the King of Morocco is in Tanger and all ferry’s are delayed.
- 13:35 We are advised to rather take the 14:00 ferry to Ceuta
- 13:45 We discover that, whilst Andrew and Danielle make it onto the ferry our vehicle’s ticket has been cancelled because we were “late” for the 13:00 ferry which has been delayed to 17:00. This is Africa?
- 14:00 We miss the 14:00 ferry
- 14:05 Pay another EUR160 for a new ferry ticket
- 15:00 Board ferry, buy a bottle of Moet and celebrate our crossing into Africa
- 16:10 Arrive in Ceuta, drive 5 minutes into town, feel the car start shaking in traffic as one of our jerry-cans is cunningly loosed by an opportunist kid. Welcome to Africa!
- 16:30 Mikaela, now also overcome by “the plague”, wins bronze in the First-to-Chunder competition.
- 17:00 Cross border from Ceuta (Spanish territory) to Morocco
- 19:00 Finally arrive in Tanger and meet up with Mik’s folks.
- 20:00 Neil wins a magenta award for coming last in the First to Chunder competition as the plague strikes once again!