Classic airheads and Norwegians invade Morocco

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Toubab
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In March, after 18 months build-up, 9 Norwegians, a Swede and some classic airheads invaded Morocco...It turned out to be the best trip we've done, with more miles off-road, some amazing riding and a cracking laugh with a great bunch of guys.

I'm going to do this report as I do it on the Moto-Morocco website as well, so it may take a while, but here are a few tasters

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Hey Liv.......here ya go.....

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:Motomartin
 
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Snoopy - take note!

This is how to prep a bike!!

:blast

He should have used a provincial beer can though:

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A little over a week before the start of the trip, 9 Norwegians and one Swede gathered their bikes in -20c and several feet of snow...they arrived from all over Norway

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The bikes had, as Tim said, been very very well prepared.....the guys had got together in small groups for months before the trip for fettling and farkling, and there was some very nice (and shiny) machinery there waiting to go and beat up the pistes in Morocco


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Spot the mods.....


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And something to make Proff wet himself :D

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The bikes were loaded and despatched- most of them hadn't been ridden in the Norwegian winter , so the guys were happy to see them go, knowing that very soon, they'd be riding in Morocco, a continent and hopefully 40 degrees warmer :D

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I notice the exhaust has had work done since it went out (compare the two photos) including the zip ties and masking tape.

The outcome of a piss poor choice of exhaust can. :)

Just wait till I get my upcoming diesel out there. :augie
 
Sorry...been a bit busy :)

Anyway....

Ian and I arrived three days early at the Golf Hotel Alhaurin El Grande.....we wanted to find a loading ramp at the airport for the bikes to be taken off from, as the wagon trailer it was coming on didn't have a tail lift, and we also had to fit a chain and sprocket set on my DR650 before the Vikings arrived.

On the way down, Spain was as flooded and wet as i've ever seen it......half of the vineyards down south seemed to be underwater and there were places where the flatlands were just covered in it, looking like a huge mirror stretching to the horizon:eek:.

We met up with our friend Steve Larkin, general fixer, parts supplier and all round-good guy, and he told us that several horses had been killed in Alhaurin after the valleys had been flooded out , and several people killed in Andalucia with mudslides and so on.....it was certainly very very wet, with torrential rain for three days solid....our contacts in Morocco said that the north of the country was extremely wet as well, with some of the classic pistes we wanted to do and had been telling the Vikings about under threat :eek


This is what the Golf Hotel normally looks like, with some great views rightdown the valleys almost to Malaga

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But this is what it looked like for the 5 days we were there :(

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A little chap had to come out every hour or two to fish the seats out of the pool, as the wind was also blowing a hoolie

It wasn't looking good for the start of the trip, so Ian and I sat down with a map and did some thinking.....
 
Tim arrived at the airport a good few hours before the Vikings, so we got him sorted out and discussed options for a while, then headed back down to the airport to meet the Norwegian truck with the bikes on, driven by a jovial trucker who , as all the gang did, spoke good English..A good job really, as our Norwegian was somewhat non-existent :)

We found a loading dock at the cargo terminal and with the driver, managed to persuade the coppers there to let us use it to unload the bikes.


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We met the guys from their 'plane, then piled them into three taxis for the 1/2 mile ride to the cargo terminal while we waited for the truck to come from the industrial estate where he had parked up.

Introductions were made all around, and wry smiles from our side greeted all the names that we knew we would find hard to pronounce, let along remember :blast

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Unloading the bikes went smoothly, then we piled all the luggage in the trailer and set off for the hotel, in the dark and the rain, but the guys all grinning at being in Spain and back on their bikes after a long Norwegian winter off the road :thumb2

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The trip officially started on Sunday, so the plan for the next day (Saturday) involved checking the bikes over, last minute fettling then a few hours trail riding around the hills behind Malaga..Ian and I had been out in the Landcruiser in the previous few days scouting out some nice tracks, and noting down where the fords were way to high and fierce to attempt on a bike :eek:

As it happened, when we got up on Saturday morning, it was tipping it down so hard that nobody wanted to go and play ....horizontal rain, flying trees and small children whistling through the air screaming in Spanish in the violent winds didn't look promising, so we stayed at the hotel, waterproofed the trailer so the luggage wouldn't get wet and enjoyed a full English Brekky, served Spanish Stylee.:blast

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One of the reasons we use the Golf Hotel is that, apart from being a lovely location, a four star hotel and just a nice place to start and finish trips, there is a South African restaurant 5 mins walk up the road....they do great steaks, ribs and wings, cold beer and sometimes, good live music.
After a day in the rain, during which a few of us went out for an hour just to stave off cabin fever, we headed up to the restaurant and got to know the group better.

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All of them knew at least one other in the group, but none of them knew everyone....most were in the same club, but all were experienced riders and had done a lot of off-roading, some even drove/rode professionally and they we rapidly found that they were all well up for it, keen as hell and it started looking like being a superb trip:D

We still had no idea what their names were or how to pronounce them, but with enough beer, a big grin and lots of shouting down the table, it didn't really matter.:beerjug:
 
We left before dawn the next morning, headed down through the hills in the rain and got to the agents that we always use for tickets....As we got on to the Motorway, it started brightening up a little and everyone was in good spirits.

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After a while, as we waited for our specially bought tickets to get back to us, the sun even came out , much to the relief and joy of all :D

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The ferry journey was a good chance to eat, as we'd had to leave before breakfast was served at the hotel, and we helped the guys fill in their paperwork.
(We'd made sure that all the temp import forms were done online months before, but we had to get their police forms done)


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We got to Ceuta in 35 minutes and after topping up the Landcruiser on Tax free fuel, headed off on the confusing diversion to the border, as the coast road was closed following storm damage from the previous few days.

Border formalities took a little while longer than normal, as we coped with the new rules on lists for organised tours, and the customs guy giving me a lot of stick because the Cueta computer doesn't talk to the Tanger computer, so they were insistent that my DR650 was still in the country, having left from Tangers on the previous trip :blast

A little tip here...ALWAYS take EVERY white copy of the DT16 from any previous trips with you...I found mine after some searching through our paperwork box, and we got through, but if I hadn't have been able to, I would either have been refused entry, or have had to pay a hefty 'local tax' to sort it out, something i hate doing :mad:

Finally, we hit the road with huge grins all round and headed through the damaged and very wet Rif mountains to Chefchaouan, our first stop for the Viking's Moroccan adventure :thumb2
 
Dodging landslides, fallen rocks and often having to ride up the wrong side of the dual carriageway (not even causing the oncoming Moroccan drivers to blink :eek) we rode past the ever-expanding port-du Tangers, a massive new commercial ferry and transporter ship port that the Moroccans hope will make them into the gateway to Africa, then took shelter in a cafe for lunch just as the heavens opened again.

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We stayed there for half an hour, then set off along a 6 mile piste that we use to assess how people can ride...everyone shot along it as if they were on tarmac, so we knew this trip was going to be special :)

A mile or two after the end of the piste, and on a drying twisty road that we were starting to make progress on, I suddenly found that the back of the bike was overtaking the front....after fishtailing quite violently a couple of times, I managed to pull on the the side and was instantly engulfed in a massive cloud of smoke.

The oil cooler on the DR , or more exactly, the feed pipe to it, had let go, dumping all of the oil onto the exhaust and rear wheel :eek:

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A bit of bodgery pokery later, we'd stemmed the flow and refilled it, so we set off again, me rather tentatively at first until the totally covered rear felt a little more planted...it was an interesting half hour :D
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A little further on, I chose the left hand fork of what was , 6 months previously, a different way around a reservoir, but after a mile, we found that the fording opportunity was a bit extreme :blast

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without further incident, we go to Chefchaouan, again in the pouring rain, and
sorted ourselves out at the Hotel Madrid, a seedy but interesting hotel that (unusually for one we stay at), only has on-road parking....It does have an overnight guardian who we know we can trust though, so after grabbing the luggage , everyone headed off to check out their pink-nylon four poster beds, as loved by Garfield on a previous trip :D

Absolute class;
:D
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That evening, we headed up to the 'posh' Hotel at the top of the hill for a beer, and awaited the arrival of Gary (Skygod) who had landed from the UK that morning, picked up his bike and kit from the Gold hotel annd has ridden straight to Chefchaouan to meet up with us, a bit of an epi cin the dark and wet on the twisties leading into the Rif, especially in the dark while raining on an Hp2 :bow:bow

Gary arrived safely though, and we got another chance to listen to the guy's names as they introduced themselves to him over a beer.

Chechaouan is a lovely town, a nice gentle introduction to Morocco and Africa.....it's more Part Andalucian(buildings, style, colours) ,part Moroccan (souk, culture and people) and part European, but its pretty and just a nice place to chill.

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We eat in the square and unfortunately, my recommendation that the Pastilla was very nice fell flat on its face when the dishes were served up to those who ordered it....a poor version of what is one of the best Moroccan traditional meals indeed, but it became a cliquey joke theme for the rest of the trip :)

The menu;Euromoroccan food :)

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It must be love :D

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