The First 1000km — Reaching the gateway to the Sahara

The trip proper finally starts in Rabat after three weeks holiday around Marrakech with various members of the family. I was finally starting the big pedal south.

I was in Rabat to get my Mauritania visa, which is supposedly obtainable at the border but not guaranteed I decided to get it at the embassy here because if I did fail to obtain it at the border it would then be 2500km back tracking which I did not like the thought of. Despite reading countless tails of the visa being a real hassle to obtain it was the of the smoothest visas I have ever obtained, no where near as bad as a few years ago being told by a Sudanese bureaucrat that my father needed accompany to obtain the visa despite that fact that I was 19 at the time and he was 3000 miles away, the most difficult element of obtaining this visa was getting a taxi driver to take me to the damn embassy. I rocked up at about 8.30am and a guy who was hanging around outside showed me to a shop across the road where I could photocopy my passport for 1 Dirham. Then heading back crossed path with some dipshit who had rocked up with Euros instead of Dirhams so had to return the following day, amateur. As retuned to the embassy they where handing out applications, which where in French and Arabic, no English sadly.

With the visa application filled in with the help of my new friend I handed it in along with 2 passport photos, a photocopy of my passport and 340 Dirhams and told to come back at 2pm. Coming back I did not make the same mistake about taking a taxi and instead cycled down to the embassy which only took about half an hour. Just as I arrived they opened up the embassy and handed me back my passport with the visa starting in 2 weeks time as I requested and I was done, ready to hit the road.

With the visa all sorted I was on the road first thing next morning, following the road along the coast past all the mansions, golf courses and palaces. On the road that was pretty much direct all the way down to Senegal in 3000km’s time. The first proper day was a pretty hard slog although the cycling I had done in the high Atlas the previous week had helped to start build my cycling legs. My goal for the first day was to clear Casablanca and find a spot that was quite enough to wild camp.

I cleared Casablanca in the late afternoon after a lunch of lamb tagine in a beach resort 60km outside of Rabat. The wild camping options where not looking promising along the main road, it was just to busy. So 20km after Casablanca I turned down a road towards the ocean hoping to find something on the beach. I passed through a bizarre half built town of mansions eventually hitting the beach. Having not eaten or drunk enough water through the afternoon I was ready to collapse I dragged my bike down on to the beach and then up into to the dunes which was far more difficult than I imagined, set up my tent and collapsed without even thinking about cooking dinner.

The next few days towards Essouira continued in a similar vane where I would cycle about 100km a day along the coastal road clearing a major city every day before pitching up on a beach at around sunset. The highlight of the first 500km was on the third day when my lack of fittest really started to show. After along day on the road I set up camp overlooking a surf break and enjoyed my dinner of garlic egg fried rice as the surfers enjoyed a few waves with the sunset in the backdrop.

I rested up for a couple of days in Essouira in the same campsite the I had stayed at the previous week when my brother was out in Morocco. Enjoyed the luxury of a few pizzas and more than a few beers (making frequent trips to the only bottle store in town as I had no way to keep the beers cold) before setting out for the next stretch a 350km leg to Guelmim the so-called “gateway to the Sahara”.

Some days on the bike fly by, I can just put my head down and before I know it I’ll have gone 100km. Other days every single kilometer is a struggle. The second day out of Essouira was one of the later, all day my legs just never warmed up and the last 25km into Agadir where some of the toughest I have ever done. After such a hard day on the bike I decided to treat my self to a bed for a change. Which I came to regret in the morning, after sleeping so many nights on the floor of my tent I couldn’t sleep at all. All in all Agadir is a shit hole of a tourist destination, which would fit in well on the south coast of Spain. And seems to attract the same sort of white trash British tourists. Not at all recommended. There is a small hippy surf town 20km before Agadir, I massively regret not stopping there instead

The best decision I made on this stretch was shortly after leaving Agadir where I took the first opportunity I could to leave the heavy trafficked main road leading towards Tiznit. Instead taking a much quiter road towards the coast through rural farming communities. The next three days south following the coast I took it easy only travelling 60 to 70km a day following the coast to Sidi Ifni. The unfortunately wasn’t much opportunity for wild camping however there where plenty of campsites along the route, of varying levels of quality. Four days after leaving Agadir I reach Gulemim. I left town after sunset having spent a few hours fucking around on the Internet and headed just far enough out of town to set up camp next to the highway behind a bush. And I was in the Sahara desert.