Morocco 2014. The Sahara to the lake in the sky…Part 7

Wow what a long hot noisy skull thumping day that was! Its evening now and we’ve got the hotel room. I think we got them on the hop because of the frantic activity sorting the rooms, we stuck to the same bedroom formula as the last hotel so there we were, Deane Steve and I sat on the hot bed sweating and staring at the shagged out air con unit on the wall. ” You have got to be fooking joking…” We pressed prodded and stabbed at the switch but the damn thing would not come on. It was so hot that the  bed-clothes and pillows felt as if they had been in the microwave for twenty minutes. I went to see the others and see if their was working, two worked but Chris and Dave stayed fooked, brilliant! Steve got our working after checking the plug and fixing a pulled wire, now the room sounded like a 1960’s factory floor Bzzzzzzzzzz! the room bulb was crap too….Anyone remember the opening scene to the 70’s drama “Callan” with Edward Woodward?  The only thing that worked was the ancient shower in the stone room and we dived in and out of that just in case that too went Pete Tong! One of the staff came to see us asking if it was OK and asked what we would like for dinner, they could have offered raw goats tongue and sandy gonads and it would have been fine, we’d had a really tough day and were frankly thankful for the room in spite of the Saturn like temperatures and the prospect of sleeping like a chicken wrap!


     Waiting for dinner. Though smiling and joking at the days adventure in the desert can you see how everybody’s shoulders are dropping with exhaustion? 


We gathered downstairs an hour later for a group formal meal. The ground floor felt very cool the tiled floor and stone walls kept the heat at bay surprisingly good. We’d gone to the trucks and brought our own beer to the tables, the staff were ok about it, we were, after all the only people staying here so wouldn’t offend anyone. The small clay pots came to the tables with a kind off chicken and veg stew that was a really tasty. From nothing happening in the world two hours ago to a sudden unexpected arrival of approx 10 Europeans to bed and feed, the guys had done really well to concoct a great dinner for us. Soft drinks were in the fridge for us to take our pick from, the fridge was struggling to keep the pop anything like cool, in fact I came down here in the early hours to take another bottle of water and it was lukewarm from the fridge which seemed to be going 100%.


07.00hrs meeting before breakfast. Rob discussing with Deane and Steve about their plan of action for today .They have to go back to Zagora and pick up Deane’s Range Rover then get it to a main dealer. I guess its goodbye AGAIN!!

breakfast was just as nice though basic, but it filled a hole and coffee was really tasty. I have to put my hand up and admit to lifting one of the small coffee cups, it now sits in my kitchen at home. We drifted to the trucks in the inner forecourt and began to inflate the tyres back up to 40+ psi with the two electric pumps we had with us. Some of us were feeling the strain of the very hot day endured yesterday so a decision was taken to turn north away from the desert. In fact the night hadn’t gone down too well, Chris felt under the weather after a sleepless night and Matt looked a bit pale. I quite fancied carrying on with some more dune fun and desert driving but the decision was taken to go north instead. We used the onboard electric pumps to shove air back into our tyres, we were now driving on roads again so would need more than a puff in each tyre, darling! Believe it or not this easy task was todays sweat, it poured as we fiddled around the wheels of the five trucks. The local kids at the gate watched us slowly they got braver and kept moving forward only to be sho’ed away by the grown ups.

I borrowed a packet of salt tablets to supplement the water and powdered supplements. I took one and felt quite the benefits within the hour. I would  take one of these every morning from now on. Steve and Deane left us to head north back towards Zagora to pick up the poorly grey Range Rover and take it to one of the main Land Rover dealers in Agadir I think, hopefully we would hook up again in that area. Once out of the town they turned north-east whilst we turned north west. We were on tarmac for most of the day though twisty and narrow it was quiet and not so debilitating.

Dave planned for us to call into a film studio just a few miles from Ouarzazate before doubling back and hitting the campsite in the late afternoon and after that we’d go see the place were Gladiator was filmed.


                                                     The Film Studios.



   Dave and Chris get ready for a wonderful studio tour of glitz and glam……..


If one thought it was going to be a glitzy glamoury studio tour then one was in for a bit of a let down! We paid up and settled to wait for our guide to come collect us. He was going to guide us round the buildings showing us the props from many famous films.  A couple of European on motorbikes were being shown around otherwise it was empty. The long office block was out first port of call, the corridors had framed film posters supposedly giving us a clue as to what the various props were from. The first couple of rooms had stuff from “The Mummy” but everything was in a very sorry state and had quite frankly seen better days, the last film made here was about fourteen years ago. Our guide didn’t speak much English, he just said the name of the film and pointed at the posters on the wall.


                                          Three extra’s from “The Mummy”



                                      Talking Heads…..




                                          Rob poses behind a plaster copy of a gatling gun.




                              Cleopatra refused to respond to my charms




                                Young Matt takes a “selfie”..Thanks to Matt for this 


We visited about half a dozen rooms of a similar state of dilapidation before heading outside.  He took us to a huge building that was pitch black inside, I think this was an indoor set, the guy didn’t say anything about it so Im just assuming. We just had a walk round, in another room were dumped a couple of broken chariots and dummy three and half legged horse or three some Roman dummy’s and a charioteer with blue head! Im so glad I hadn’t set my heart on visiting here, hoping to see some fantastic artifacts! It was so bad it was a joke. We walked back to the entrance, Dave spoke with an employee who intimated there was more to see if we drove around the property, he was pointing his had to the rear of the place. That was the studio visit done then was it?At least the buildings were cool and shaded against the hot sun! We got back in the trucks and drove around the side, about a mile away we could see a fully blown fort and some old wooden siege weapons, it took a few minutes do drive over there. I actually took a detour and drove all the way around the stone fort kicking up the sand as I sped all the way round and back to where the others had parked. Another attendant was waiting for us, he opened the doors and let us in, waving us forward he then left us to our own devices. We explored the inside the main walls looked extremely real even from just a few feet away. I imagine this had been used in a lot of films but there wasnt any information and the guide had wandered back to his pals in one of the false buildings near the gate.


Matt filming himself in the starring role of  “Hang em High” ..



The plastic fort.. Thanks to Dave Freeman for these two photos… 


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 Looking at the walls of the fort from the inside tells a different story


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                                    Plenty of work to do but nobody doing it!


I went up onto the ramparts I could see the whole structure was built with scaffolding with a the moulded walls fixed to it. Joe walked across some tiles which promptly shattered, they weren’t tiles at all but sheets of plastic! From the ramparts I looked down at the siege machines just a hundred feet away in the desert Shortly the man appeared again and intimated us towards the door. I guess the tour was over. On my way out he showed me in his hand some small coloured stones and asked for money in exchange for them. “No mate Im not interested I smiled and drove off after the other, e drove back to the main studio via another mock-up set,  and the main road and drove down the road in search of lunch. Oh dear what a disappointment that was going to be for those folk who are really interested in this kind of thing.


A real wooden Trebuchet inside an unreal fort. See Rob and the gang stood by  weapon offering some scale. Trebuchets’ were siege weapons that threw rocks at solid structures eventually knocking them down, the pointy bit was pulled back all the way down to the ground, a boulder was put in the sling, at other end which was shorter at the axis and had a huge weight on. At the command of “Fire” The heavily weighted end would swing down really fast and the rock in the sling at the other end  would be catapulted towards the enemy.



                                              All hot and bothered in the midday sun


It wasnt long before we found somewhere to eat and we pulled off the main road for lunch at a resteraunt. Dont get me mistaken, it was just a large room with a low ceiling and several rickety chairs and a couple of long wobbly wooden tables, the walls were bare except for one of two old and torn posters, the counter marked the start of the kitchen which looked equally as bar. The owner set about cooking, I think we all ordered pizza or omelette. It felt like we were sat there an hour or more waiting for the food and getting even more hungry. We couldnt have got up and gone somewhere else because there wasnt anywhere else, besides, the owner was “beavering” away in the kitchen and doing his best, from what I could see he just had a couple of small ovens and we were probably his biggest order for the month, to have walked off would have been so wrong, so we persevered.  We grabbed water from the trucks and just sat inside and waited, none of us were in a very chatty mood and sat twiddling with the utensils, looked at the dark bare walls and occasionally stared at the ripped posters. “Fukc me its hot”! is about the most we uttered, in fact the heat got the better of Helen, she was more ratty than ratty the rat so stomped  bach to the truck to sleep and keep her own company. When the food finally came we all perked up and our smiles returned it came in batches so I guess his little oven was overworked, the poor sod looked so apologetic for keeping us waiting for so long. We played it down not wanting to make a song and dance about it besides what good would it do to complain except to wind everybody up?

After “wolfing” down the plates of food which he brought out in froups of three or four we payed the man he and his pal toted up the food and dozens of bottles of pop. This seemed to take ages too. Oh ow we take things for granted in our fast food world back home. I think he might have earned his money with us this afternoon. Feeling better we returned to the trucks parked on the waste ground, suddenly a grotty looking tramp with rotting teeth appeared with palm outstretched muttering something about 10 dirham for parking. “And you can just FUKC OFF you scruffy old c*nt!” I snarled at him. We’d just endured…a very long hot wait in the shit hole of a resteraunt, whilst all the while listening to a jabbering chattering extended family in the foyer with crying whining infants as we  slowly starved to death so I think my reaction to him was in keeping with the mood of the moment. dont you? He tried it on with the others but got nothing from them either so sloped off back under his rock looking very hard done by!

Because of the over long wait for lunch it was too late travel to the area where The Gladiator” and other movies was filmed so we turned towards the campsite which was in the opposite direction. The tarmac back to the main road was just two cars width with a sparrow fart between them and that’s only if you passed carefully, The rule of thumb is if an ordinary car approached then 4×4 vehicles are expected to move over onto the rough stuff. unfortunately the big Japanese 4×4 vehicle ferrying tourists from the city were coming towards very fast and  had a disregard for other road users, they stuck to the middle of the tarmac so we all had to dodge onto the soft stuff as they flew past us! I felt a bit angry at this as did everyone else in the group, so when the next arse came bombing towards us we stuck to the road too and made them shift over for a change, they would not bully us with their size and speed. To see the look of horror and wildly gesturing as we too stuck to the middle ofthe tarmac pleased me. Dave actually moved onto the soft stuff well before they arrived and gunned it creating a mini sand storm that too put the fear of god into the speeding bstards!

Next we came upon a motorcade of white motorhomes who also insisted in being on the tarmac, after the previous bullies we were in no mood, they practically stopped as we barreled towards them, we did actually move over onto the sand at the last-minute and to see the panic on the drivers faces made me smile broadly again

I have to get on my soapbox for a minute now to say I have a huge dislike for motorhomes, they are horrible and white, they don’t even blend into the countryside they so often get stuck in! Have you seen the size of their rubbish little wheels and very small ground clearance of their tin shed? So why do the owners take them down narrow lanes, tracks, dirt roads and expect everyone else to get out of their way? They park wherever they like regardless of others. They always seem to be old people who should by now know better how to behave. The fukcin little lap dog that seems to come free when you buy a motor home doesn’t really give a flying fook about the scenery or the countryside, it only cares about its next shit and next meal. It was hard enough getting past them on the motorbike’s. I think it’s quite impossible with a Land Rover Defender…well without causing  consternation anyway! Im sure as hell there are some nice motorhomes and some nice motorhome people out there who have thought and consideration by the barrow load, I’ve just never met any that’s all.

The campsite wasnt far away once we reached the main road, we pulled into the forecourt area and booked in at reception before driving past the swimming pool, Joe perked up 100% when he spotted this! We pulled up at the wall just past the toilet and shower block. They had a resteraunt too so I figured this campsite or Auberge was of a higher class though still lacking one blade of grass, on second thoughts belay that thought, I hadn’t actually seen a blade of grass for a few days now! One had to kick the larger stones from said chosen pitch and used the hammer to thump the tent pegs into the compact ground, I just brayed four pegs in before hot footing it to the pool, it was very hot today again and by now at 16.00 hrs was practically at the days hottest. Everyone went to the pool and fell in It was one of those “Ahhhhhhh…. Bisto ” moments as the cool water enveloped our hot sand covered bodies, it was heaven it really was! A couple of youngsters where in the pool too their parents nearby on the white plastic pool furniture. Most were wearing swimwear of summer shorts and t-shirts. A nice reminder of how liberal the country was.

Out of nowhere came the sudden and gusting wind, pool furniture was blown about, we all stayed in the pool, personally I just dropped down so that just my head was sticking up out of the water, some empty cement sacks flew over our heads from somewhere, Robs tent had been blown onto its back, he hadn’t put any pegs in as yet so hot footed it back to secure it.To be honest pegging down wasnt really necessary through the trip except for today, not even today really because the wind started and stopped within ten minutes, no sign of any raging clouds nor impending storm it just stopped and the day carried on with its daily bake. Having cooled enough I waddled in flip-flops back to my tent and finished off setting up, clipping together the bed and unfolding the chair. I did some clothes washing and emptied the stuff in the washing machine.



  Early evening and the tents are nailed down shaded by the mud wall and few small trees… we would appreciate the shade at dawn the next day.


The washing machine is a small beer cask but made of blue nylon plastic, the lid was resealable, the idea was to put some clothes in with a splash of washing detergent and  quarter fill with water then lash it to the roof of the truck at the start of the day, it would get sloshed around all day and the sun would heat the water up enough to do cool wash for 6 hours. Once set up at the evenings camp, the clothes would be rinsed out and hung to dry, amazingly it would be rock hard dry in about an hour on the hottest days, The truck bounced about so hard sometimes that the washing liquid seeped out and spilled onto the roof and down the windscreen which was good as it cleaned the windscreen, something one had to do every morning regardless, behind me in the cab sits my bag with litre bottle of water screen wash, green pad and cloth.


                                        Home from home for three weeks and 5,600 miles

We had dinner by the tents and sat about for the rest of the warm evening relaxing. Just before it turned dark, three white motorhomes turned up and parked by the opposite wall, a guy from one of them walked to the toilet block but not before giving us a long hard stare. Aha!Iit was one of the soft bstards from this afti who thought we should dive off the road out of their way, he didn’t have it in him to come over and complain, well he is Italian and they don’t appear very inspiring in backbone department! Helen saw them too and in spite of feeling pretty whacked she managed to commando roll over to their vehicles in the dead of night to apply a certain sticker to the rear of one of them, she returned to bed to make a full recovery by dawn. Backbone… Now that’s what Im talking about!










Topping up at the end of the night.with Aqua and beer…somewhere behind in the darkness Helen is raiding the Italian motorhomes


Dawn arrived at the same time as a couple of noisy birds that sang their hearts out in the low tree overhanging my little house. I reluctantly rose and padded around a bit to wake up then made a coffee, Rob was up as usual and we performed the morning ritual of coffee and small talk. Up and about we all were within the hour and the striking of camp began wrapping and folding up of equipment then the morning exercise of climbing up and down the trucks chucking gear up and the securing of, my truck at this time of morning is nothing more than a climbing frame! Sweat leaked from my body as I stood drinking the last of my coffee, the cup is usually the last thing to get stowed away. I paid up for the night’s camping to the beautiful Moroccan woman in reception.


                                                                          To the shops!

We came together and drove down the hill to the clutch of small shops by the roadside and purchased our daily bread and stocked up on gallons more drinking water, bought some fruit too and biscuits to nibble on during  today adventure, then we drove to the garage and topped up the tanks and hit the road…for about 5 minutes and stopped again because Dave had just been pulled over by the police for speeding! Naturally we pulled over about a hundred yards away so’s not to get roped in! Oh what a good start to the day….





                                                  Nobody’s laughing honest!

Dave paid into the Moroccan road owners club, he was offered a price to pay with receipt or pay a 100 less without receipt. Make of that what you will? I had noticed a lot of police on the roads during our trip with a fair number of stop and checks, and  some speed checks I didn’t know if this was normal but found out on our return that the security services had increased the checks recently in light of terrorist activity. Oh well it wasnt a fortune to pay and Dave would have no record of it on his license. He took the lead at a slower pace now and we carried on, not many miles down the road we left the tarmac and head through a coal mine! I thought I could recognise some of the building types and the conveyor system, a wash-house and screen shop for instance. We paused whilst Rob checked with a local as to our direction. All around the ground was a dull grey, the buildings were coal-black, It was working today, in fact it looked like it hadn’t been running for a while, the track went up and around the back of the place, rising higher into the hills and still the land was grey small caves holes were visible old rusted rail tracks and wrecked conveyor rollers where lain about as was some old derelict mining equipment.


Arriving at the grey mine

I was curious because I don’t think it was coal they were mining, I didn’t see a single lump of coal anywhere, all we could see were piles of grey dust here and there. It was an awful scene until we climbed over the crest of the nearby hill and the sandy brown colours returned, we took the left fork down a narrow and battered stone track, down we dropped until we came to a row of terraced dwellings, amazingly some people came out to wave and greet us, Dave managed to assert through their help that we had taken the wrong fork, we found a flat piece of ground and so one by one we managed to turn around, passing back through dwellings the folk stood and waved. we turned onto the correct fork and head up and over the ridge. The colours of the rocks lost any hint of grey replaced instead by browns and bronzes.


                                     I think this area is known as Tizi-n-Tichka

It looked so sparse, no tree’s or shrubs not one, nor begging child, sometimes it was difficult to give a place a name because it simply didn’t have one! just valley after valley and distant hills to reach and drive through, we’d left the tarmac and were back on stoney tracks following GPS co-ordinates and Robs mapping on the I-Pad. Dave and Rob wanted to re-visit and old friend they’d met the last time they were here, we were going to Mohammad and the lake, but first we had to negotiate several of these vast valleys with worn out and probably disused tracks whilst trying not to look out at the stunning views.



                                              Lunch in a new wilderness.


The next couple of miles forced more concentration from everyone as a thin track chiseled into the rock led us round the off steep hill after steep hill, I didn’t see a single passing place nor did I see very much ahead it was as if we were on a constant spiral down and back up the steep hillside, the track was compacted stones with absolutely nothing to stop the truck s from slipping over the edge, so the camera stayed in its back for the rest of this journey.





Dave Freeman snaps me in the hillside shadow coming over another rise




 me again, snapped by Matt or Dave still on the “Yikes trail”!


I wondered what we would do if something came the other way, the answer wasnt easy the thought of it quite nightmarish so I tried not to think about it. It seemed a long time before we finally reached ground zero and a great sigh of relief that I hadn’t encountered any real difficulty, I saw the other trucks and their dust in the distance picking up speed towards the next installment!

We hauled up and out of the valley onto another huge flat expanse of boulder strewn land in the distance sat the most largest mountain range of fantastic colours and we were winding along towards it, it was fantastic to see.



From floor to ceiling the mountain just grew larger and totally filled my windscreen. Dave in the white 110 leads the way.

It was another few miles before we hit the next bit of tarmac, we took it and turned left and away from the mountains, we paused for a cuppa a few miles further on and reflected on another learning curve behind the wheel, well I did at least!

This very new road was glorious to drive on it was quite wide and empty of traffic, we began to have fun, the dips and climbs were attacked at speed ( in a Land Rover?? ) the corners were fast and open, one could easily see al the way around the bends as once again the land was empty of trees shrubs and walls or buildings. I was playing with IONA as Dave set her up for the next hill to climb, you could tell when Dave put his foot down as a cough of black smoke spurted out! She surged forward up the hill, IONA maybe be over 30yrs old but her engine was out of a newer Land Rover Discovery and would have left you open-mouthed on seeing it go for the first time, Rob was leading in the black 90 which also had a Discovery engine fitted and couldn’t put much distance between him and IONA on the up hill surge! I was in front at one point, my 90 was an original eleven year old 2.5 TD5, but on the climbs IONA began to close the gap! I could see both Dave and Chris grinning as we raced along, I escaped on the corners and on the flats but they kept catching back up on every climb! We were having so much fun when around the next bend we could see a village and a huge red truck unloading so we called it a day. We soon saw workmen and vehicles working to extend this brilliant road, all too soon the tarmac petered out and turn to rubble first then compacted soil and became narrow again, the rock just a couple of feet away on both sides oh well its back to normal again!



From excellent tarmac to exciting rubble tracks




 The wide bit of the track entering the village

We drove through several villages on our steady climb to Mohammad’s sometimes the track widened but not very often, if a donkey came towards us we’d pull over as far as we could to let the guy encourage his heavily laden “truck” to walk on, the village High Streets became quite narrow and we had to turn slightly to miss the stone steps. We had returned to hard living but at least the road will eventually reach the villages and make things easier On some of the corners  small trees had grown through boulders splitting them and making the corner tighter and more blind. We came around one such corner to see a wrecked vehicle dumped on a corner, I don’t know about you but I didn’t need reminding of what might befall us. The next corner found us at the our destination, we pulled of the track onto  a flat outcrop, big enough for our trucks and the tents, yes it was the campsite!



 We needed the ground sheets to reinforce the tent against the rocky ground.



 Father and son looking suitably drained


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                                                          The centre of the universe

We set up camp then walked back to the cafe and ordered a couple of rounds of drinks, Id have loved to have bought beer! We had another journey to take before the day was over and looking at the route what we had just driven was a walk in the fooking park! We sat around drinking soft drinks, and entertained the wasps! I moved and sat well away from this “hive of annoying activity” Dave and Helen were going to spend the night camping by the lake, leaving her son Joe with us for the night, I was puzzled, “So where is this lake then?” I asked. Dave pointed up the mountain, “It’s up their mate” My eye caught the line that zig zagged up to the top, “Fukcin Hell right up there?” I blurted.

Ok so here I was sat in my truck engaging low box and going to drive all the way up to heaven on the slipp-iest boulder track I have ever seen. Dave had gone off first I was last, I wanted to watch them on the first couple of corners. Satisfied as much as I’ll ever been I set off up. This was going to be an exciting challenge. Id let it Im sure it would have skipped around the switchbacks, the low box and the great tyres combined to make short work of things, once or twice on the short straight bits I looked around, I could see up except for billions of tons of grey stones, to the other side I could see all the way down the valley and the tiny village somewhere near my right boot!




                                                    IONA blends in with the stones

Actually it wasnt so bad after all, the really challenging bits were the actual switchbacks, when I say challenging, I mean for me and not the truck, the tyres were grabbing at the rocks and spitting them out behind, and thirsting for more. This truck is amazing I said to myself, all the same I slowed down a bit more, it wasnt a race and I didn’t want to stat an avalanche with my flying boulders! By the time I got half way up I was taking it in my stride and the second half was a breeze. We reached to top and stood looking at the lake. I have to admit, I wasnt impressed, it looked like one of those huge slate quarries in Wales. I’ve been spoilt on my travels and seen similar but more beautiful mountain lakes in The Alps, however I think driving here up the difficult track makes it what it is. In fact the drive during the whole day was challenging and most thrilling. Maybe the fading light took something away I don’t really know because I remained unimpressed.




                                                  The Lake in the mountains

Dave and Helen left us to walk together and have an overnight camp somewhere at the other side of the lake, we could see a dozen or more gaily coloured tents dotted near the water’s edge, See you in the morning we shouted and turned the trucks around for the trip back down. Chris drove the white 110 back as the two walkers intended to walk all the way back down to the tents in the morning. The trip back down was as exciting and the switch back proved very tight here and there with a bit if a shuffle required especially from the longer 110’s. A great deal of trust was required in one’s vehicle, the slightest slip and one would be in for another Hollywood fireball stunt.


Switch back ahead! The view from IONA



                           Another view from IONA of another switch back

I was at the back on the way down picking up more tips and hints and watching the slow shuffles. I was a few car lengths behind Dave when out of nowhere this local overtook us on a moped, I shook my head out of the window in disbelief, Dave did the same, he shouted to me “No fooking way man!” We both sat laughing our heads off at the man. I had to agree 100% with Dave, there is no fookin way are we gonna tell anyone we’d just been upstaged by an old local on a moped barreling down the mountain..wearing fooking flip-flops! The rest of the trip down was an anti climax, at the campsite

I switched off and patted myself on the back and handed out the Fosters to everyone. Mohammad was there waiting for us, he was the village elder and was most influential, this was apparent when observing the interaction between him and everyone else. Before the run up the mountain he took us all back to his house a short walk away, (Rob and Dave had been before) He was proud to show us his new TV and showed us into his living room, we sat about on cushions, his daughters brought trays of tea and left them at the door for us. We sat through some Moroccan music videos for a while and Mohammad would have played them all to us if we’d let him! He wanted to ride up with me but I couldn’t take him as my passenger door lock had gone U/S during the ride through the desert, it wouldn’t stay locked or even closed at times so was held shut by an elastic rope. There was no way I wanted to be held responsible for him falling to his death out of my truck.

We walked to the tables where Mohammad was waiting for us, we settled in for the evening dinner which was another great feast of chicken and veg done the Moroccan way. Now darkness settled and the Whiskey was brought from the trucks, Oh it was like Christmas to him, his old eyes lit up and raised his glass, Chris’s filled up an old bottle for him, The old boy was really made up! I was the first to wilt tonight which was a day of achievements and great excitement, it really had been such a brilliant day, it had worn me out and I was ready for bed, I bid everyone goodnight and walked back to the tent, I heard the others return shortly after, they sat around the tents drinking and talking. I didn’t mind the noise I was well on the way to dreamland






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