Day 8 May 8th 121 miles Azrou - Midelt - Foum Tillich

An incredible day; exhaust fixed, overheating, vast expanses of wild country, huge Atlas mountains and friendly hospitality.
Sunder's exhaust proved to have a split personality and was reunited early doors by a cheery mechanic in Azrou. He also fixed a pipe for Patrick and Robin on a workbech which has seemingly spent time under the sea!

Playing on her lame duck theme, she then blew her top on a climb, but was cooled down by Paul's electrical wizardry.
The scenery was breathtaking. Some children would wave...

Others would stay in their encampment...



The Sandersons then espied our first tree monkeys on the way to lunch beside a beautiful high mountain lake, full of trout and noisy mating frogs.

Stunning vistas were pleasantly interrupted by equally scenic villages and towns...

Some more huge climbs and red temperature gauges later, we arrived at John's good friends Abde Najjar & Aziz's farm, nestled by a river under mountainous folds high in the Atlas.

Their attentive hospitality was a pleasure to behold, and William immediately made friends with all the children.
Kids are kids the world over.

A heady aroma of rose petals in preparation for making rose water greeted us in their lounge, whilst John made himself comfortable in Moroccan dress. Not for the first time, it seemed we were ethereal visitors to a bygone age.

The ladies of the house 'dutifully' prepared food & drink, whilst mint tea was traditionally poured from a height by the man. Don't shoot me, I'm only reporting, my happy readers.

 
As a classic red sunset lit up the mountainside, a wonderful Moroccan meal followed by more sweet mint tea rounded off a very special day. Spoons are included only as deference to our western habits; the family ate with their right hand.




 


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Day 7 May 7th 167 miles Chaouen - Ouezzane - Moulay-Idriss -Meknes -Azrou

Leaving pastel blue and white Chaouen behind, we headed on our southern odyssey. Passing the usual bunch of friendly natives and stalls on the road was to become a common yet reassuring sight for us.

We were also reminded of the mechanical nature of our expedition, like exhausts and clutches deciding they would rather not work or be whole. This morning, for example, Sunder became exhausted, but there was always a queue to mend or temporarily fix.
PS Note to whoever built my exhaust.. remember to weld all the joints.

This happened close to a river, so we took the opportunity to go off-road and have lunch alongside some  women and inquisitive children who had taken their washing to the river in hugely piled-up wheelbarrows.

Their very dark skins contrasted starkly against their gaily coloured traditional dress.

Here is what was to become our typical lunch on the road. Nom-nom.

The Moroccan landscape is rightly prized for its variation and dramatic vistas, but we were not expecting these verdant gently rolling arable hills under big lazy skies.

We ended up on a Berber campsite, where the opportunity to partake of Pastiche by the enthusiastic owner was accepted by some intrepid members. A proportion of these even managed to rise the next morning. Some slept in the building, as the campsite was habitated by ants and other creatures, including a 2 inch cockroach.





An interesting day.

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May 6 - Day 6 80 miles in Spain and 70 miles in MOROCCO! Torremolinos - Algerceros - Tangier Med - Chaouen

We are finally in Morocco!

Waving our delightful host a fond farewell, we headed to a back-street ticket centre in Algiceras, where we were entertained (well, the menfolk at any rate), by a buxom lady with sleight of hand and a chiffon blouse with magical shifting properties. Eventually we left, but not before obtaining a large pair of... er... tickets for the ferry, and complimentary gifts of chocolate cake and bottles of fizz.
We loaded up at the adjacent Carrefour, where they were playing that old song.. 'how much is that doggy..'


 
Then we all drove four times around the port, just for the fun of it. The weather was taking a turn for the worse, so we took advantage of our portside breeze...

Despite foggy Gibraltar, Susan spotted dolphins dancing in our ferry's wake, a good omen. Tangier Med meant we were finally in Morocco, where on John's good advice we donned suitably solemn visages whilst officious perspireless officials laboriously ticked and crossed our paperwork.  It was gratifying (not) to have to pay 90 euros to prove we had vehicle insurance, especially as we had our insurance documents to hand. All except Mr Outhwaite, who had managed to persuade his insurance company in Blighty to donate him proof for a third of what we forked out. It must be his Yorkshire charm.
But hey, we were finally in Morocco, depsite being tired from our early start. Our esteemed leader made the decision to proceed upon an interesting route south, avoiding motorways and any traffic. After a few bone-jarring miles, we realised we were also avoiding tarmac and any faint degree of 'levelism', becoming frequently familiar with ever-increasing potholes and huge muddy puddles. After a 'delightful' 70 miles, elevated (Chef)Chaouen emerged out of the misty rain, which was a surprise, as we had been reliably informed that it did not rain in Morocco. Our relicular sleepsite was a wonderful 70's hippy enclave, and Patrick's hammockian's spirit was not dampened...

And then, after some raising of glasses (the ones we had left, that is) to our success, it rained some more.






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Day 4+ 5 May 4th 271 miles SPANISH VISTAS De Ebro - Santa Elena...........................................Day 5 May 5th 189 miles SIERRA NEVADA & CAMPSITE CAPERS Santa Elena - Jaen - Grenada - Malaga - Torremolinos

Day 4

Before we set off from Burgos, it was time to get a picture (or three) of the vehicles lined up together for the first time. Here they are with all inhabitants (apart from my dear friend Mike, who was snapping as usual).

PS Four more folk were to join us, more of that later.
For now, another long day in the seat, all five old land rovers ending up in a lovely wooded campsite in a Spanish national park. The countryside started off being mountainous, then flat as a pancake for miles (the rain in Spain....) then huge gorges and mountains...
Glimpsing the hills, we reflected on the historical differences in wind gathering. I wonder what Don Quixote would think? You make your own mind up...

PS Sunder not under...
Sunder has a firepit fastened on the roof, three legs pointing upwards like Sputnik. At least, it was until we tried to park in the shade under a low roof. Mick O says it now looks like Mr Ben!



   Day 5 

We passed over the magnificent Sierra Nevadas today, complementing the beautiful churches we saw along the way, particularly those in Granada.
Malaga was best left unseen, apart from the very welcome additions of two new members to our growing party of adventurers. Robin's lovely wife Susan and Martin, a gentlemand and John's bro.
After being spilt up in heavy traffic we finally all met up at nearby Torremolinos. Here, our English campsite host proceeded to demonstrate exactly how not to be a campsite host, managing to ruffle everyone's feathers.
How the stunning parrots survive is anyone's guess. Here is one having an argument with our host, having the benefit of the moral 'highground'.

Speedy payment to the helpless, hapless sop became his driving obsession, especially as he had mixed up all our names, passports and vehicle registrations, despite inspecting our pitches for a good while, clipboard in hand. We were given duplicate pitches, and it seemed that Patrick at 24 was too disrespectfully young to pay, despite it being his vehicle. Nevertheless we had fun...

I was not allowed to pay for our vehicle because I clearly wasn't me, I had changed to Mr Sanderson. I must be him, as I was on his pitch, it had been entered into a clipboard. My suggestion of checking passports was poo-pooed, as there were so many of them (well, twelve, anyway). My holding up Robin's next to mine baring photos was squintily inspected and grudgingly accepted. Eventually, after hours of torture (keeping a smile on my face), all were paid up, although Louise was only spoken to when she informed mine host that she was the one with the money. Incidentally, I (now Mr Sanderson) identified Mick & co. at the gate as they returned from shopping, and up went our host's unforgettable cry... 'Outhwaite!'

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Day 3 May 3rd 271 miles. Bordeaux - Biarritz - across into Spain(!) - Vittoria - Bergos The Famous Five meet up

Smokey 2's replacement arrived at 5am at our 'luxurious' Aire after a marathon drive. Although it is a new (1988) 110 (cough), at least Paul and his brother Lance were with us, we were now four. For his trouble at arriving,  Paul was awoken after a very short nap by one of our brethren. It was good to meet them, even in these tiring circumstances.  They were both to prove very interesting travelling companions.
So onto the French border into Spain we drove, then over the Pyrennes switchback road mountain tunnels to a fab campsite at Bergos (statue of shepherd and his dog) where Barney was already set up. We were welcomed by Mick, Louise and William: the Famous Five were together!





Time for the bar, methinks...


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May 2nd Day 2 France Overland & LRM. Rouen - Le Mans - Tours - Poitiers - Bordeaux 400 miles

Carawagons Ho! came the cry after a fitful sleep in an Aire (not on a G-String fortunately, as it was a truckers' stop). Three Carawagons; George, Holly & Sunder headed off on a huge 400 mile Overland trip through lovely French countryside. Lunch was eaten on a grass verge next to scores of gendarmes on a jolie. Meanwhile, Jabberwocky was still ahead in Spain, whilst Smokey 2 had transformed into another entity and was chomping at the bit on the ferry from Dover in a bid to catch up.
Later in the afternoon we met up with the excellent Drew Brown from LRM (Land Rover Monthly mag) and his equally wonderful son Chance in the deep south countryside. Drew's handshake showed a strength of sincerity to make one's eyes water. After the quickest photo shoot ITW, a mechanical problem with Holly resulted in a trip to his ex farmhouse near Aunac, where hospitality was signalled with strong beer, olives, home reared pork sausage and his delightful wife Jacqueline taking us on a guided tour.



 

The little boy is Drew and Jacqueline's son, given the name Chance. How cool is he?

 

After some time, all three Carawagons benefitted from spare parts, as Chance proudly showed off his new goats, happily munching and destroying Granny's prize rose bush. We sadly left and ended up in yet another Aire, looking sleepily forward to crossing into Spain tomorrow.


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May 1st Day 1 Rover Over Dover 412 miles

Hi everyone. Many thanks to all of you for your positive thoughts and wishes. We shall endeavour to Live The Dream.

Eventful day for three grand old ladies who did us all proud. Dover was 260 miles for our carawagon, having met up with John and Pat'n'Rob at Grantam on t't A1. When we reached Dunkerque we then drove another over 152, finishing just north of Rouen in an Aire. One of our brethren has 'head' problems and is in catch-up mode, yet to leave Blighty. And young John ensured we were all taken to the inspection pound at the ferry terminal. All of us were innocent of any crimes, apart from John (naturally) who was found smuggling diesel into France. We were all kept in quarantine for an hour, but eventually escaped for a very late ferry. Met a guy on the boat from Oz who is incredibly pedal-biking back to Melbourne, and graciously suggested ours was the groovier option. One commonality, however, is that we both have numb bums!



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Location:English Channel