Saturday 18th February, 2012. Sandy Lane, Barbados.
T2T Epilogue.
T2T Epilogue.
The intrepid trio did eventually return home albeit by three different routes. Here are their stories.
Chapter One. Jason
It was a sad sight to have watched the other T2T members leave and even Cockney Bob left a few days later.
My initial high hopes for the parts was driven by the BMW motorworks sending them over who were optimistic that 5 days would be a worst case scenario. However 3 days later and I checked why I had no delivery number only to find that the promised parts had not been in stock!
3 more days, then 5 and then 8……………………………
For 2+ weeks life became a routine of popping into town, cueing up in the post office to be told nothing had arrived. Over to the café for morning coffee and then find an internet café where I could do some studying or just while a way an hour or two.
Shopping (invariably tuna, bread and water) for which I had learnt the Arabic to the delight of the shopkeepers.
Back to camp for a tuna sandwich and then down to the beach to do some reading. The kindle kept me sane for those two weeks in limbo and I managed to get through 5 or books in quick succession.
After 18 days I had had enough and decided that I should figure out a plan and leave if only for my mental health!
I had been thinking about the brake situation which was still binding (partially seized) and come to the following conclusions:-
1 – We had sanded the small dinks down and so theoretically it should work better now.
2 – The Pads were so worn that it wouldn’t take much pressure to push them back in again.
3 – If the wear was excessive I could get to Casablanca or Spain
4 – I could disconnect the brakes and use the rear and engine braking.
So I packed. Well first I jettisoned all but the essential gear to save weight and make room for some of Kevan’s stuff so no weight was actual saved what so ever! It was an early start as I wasn’t sure how the day would go.
I decided to go for the tortoise approach as apposed to the hare – and settled on 50-60mph as a good pace but easy enough to stop if anything untoward happened. The first leg was a long one but essentially one that had little traffic and was pretty straight and in good condition. I was travelling at the same speed as the lorries and so it would be simple going. And it was! I had stopped for fuel and checked the pads – definitely some wear but not down to the metal but it didn’t bode well.
The combination of a slow speed and having disconnecting the microphone meant that I could put some tunes on and sing along while eating up the miles. As other motorcyclist will know you get allsorts of ideas while riding along and it was a brain wave that hit me – I could adjust the pads (with a screwdriver) so that they weren’t wearing but in an emergency I could pump the level to regain a front brake! I pulled over and experimented: it was pretty easy to get them positioned so it required just one pump form the brake lever before engaging and that was enough for the wheel to turn freely.
With everything in some sort of working order I made it to Tantan by the end of the first day – A whopping 800km (500 miles) in about 14hrs. I had passed back through lots of police blocks but they had generally waved me through. In La Raounne I had got lost but quickly put on track by the helpful military guards outside the barracks.
The roads were fine except for the sections where the Desert was encroaching and one time when I was faced with two oncoming lorries and decided that getting off the road was the most sensible option.
The monster days were to continue but by getting up early and finishing late it was going to be gruelling but hopefully enjoyable.
I was happy to have made it so far that I looked at the map and figured Agadir was a mere morning’s drive away and I could push on to Marrakech. I hadn’t decided due to the brake situation but I still wanted to see a bit of Morocco
The going was a bit slower than I had thought but it was still only early afternoon and so I headed toward Marrakech and decided to take a scenic road through the High Atlas. The road rapidly became a thin strip of tarmac but in good nick and so I started getting into the sweeping bends as I rode into the mountains. The road alternated between smooth tarmac and gravel which made for mid corner slides just to keep me awake – of course there were no barriers and as I wound my way up in the Atlas mountains the roads deteriorated but were still ride-able- In fact that’s what the Dakar was made for and so I cracked on and was having a whale of a time.
I was having so much fun I kept forgetting to stop and take photos. On one of the times I did remember I met two guys who were two up on an old 125. They stopped to check I was not broken down and they were friendly and full of smiles.
At the top of the pass was a fossil shop, I stopped to have a look around. I was drawn to the complete Amethyst eggs – they were (relatively) expensive and I couldn’t justify the cost but if it was a present then it was fine…………..Kate now has a very nice Amethyst egg on the mantle piece!
The road on the way down was good and I set about wearing the rubber injection tabs of the very edges of the tyres. – great fun!!!!! Half way down it was getting dark and the town I was heading for was little more than a bus stop with a few cafes. The two guys (Rashid and Ahmed) on the 125 were there an they flagged me down and insisted that I join them for mint tea and BBQ’d goats entrails – Yummm!!! We had a nice time sitting and chatting in broken English and French, the tea was good, the goat was interesting.
I headed off early again and the road was fantastic! It was following a small meandering river twisting through the valley. It must have been resurfaced recently and you could throw the bike into the corners – what a way to wake up!
Of course nothing last forever and at the next town the road had all but vanished and was deep gravel and some sections were covered with water from the numerous waterfalls. I switch on the heated grips, got on the pegs and concentrated on staying up and dodging the cars that were taking whatever routes they could regardless of what side of the road that was as well as the unspoken rule that a bike was lowest in the pecking order.
I got to Marrakech only to find that it was Saturday and all of the banks were closed. However a guy accompanied me and rapped on the Western Union door until someone came to investigate and they opened up and changed some money for me. It has to be said that the Moroccans were very friendly and helpful throughout the whole trip.
Money in hand and directions from various passers-by and I was off toward Cascades D’ouzoud the 2nd highest waterfall in Africa (after Victoria
The waterfall was spectacular and I was suitably impressed. I had hired a guide as I was short on time and dressed in my motorcycle gear and didn’t want to be walking aimlessly all over the place. The guide took me through the olive groves with monkeys in the trees and from the head of the falls we watched a small falcon hunt for insects – a great spectacle with the falls as the backdrop to it.
It got pretty hot in all my gear but it was well worth it. There was plenty more to see – caves, wildlife and many restaurants but that would have to wait for a return visit.
I carried on toward Meknes taking a short cut that the locals had told me of – yet another small quiet road that wound its way down form the foot hills – another road to put a smile on my face!
The landscape changed to rolling hills and the traffic got heavier, it was slow going especially in towns where the rules of the road become somewhat arbitrary. However I only had to engage the emergence break a couple of times but it did mean that I wasn’t going to get to Meknes
Oh well, I stopped at a large but non-descript town. A series of texts to Kate and my realisation that the Santander Ferry was only 2 days away put my evening into a mad panic - well not quite but it did involve some frantic map reading and calculating. It would be very close and mean some titanic riding days. If I missed it meant another week which wasn’t the end of the world but I was keen to get back now I had started out.
I got up at some ungodly time to set of in search of Volubilis a roman town that had been unearthed and was now a UNESCO world heritage site.
I was making great time and decided that I should try some smaller roads when I ran into thick fog. So thick and cold that I had to sit behind a car hoping that they were local and knew the roads as their rear lights was all that existed in my world of white.
The fog cleared and I took another lovely road up to the top of a small hill to Volubilis. My efforts had been rewarded, it was a clear morning if a bit chilly at 9am but the sun was out. Volubilis was deserted and bathed in golden morning light. I hired a guide to show me around and thoroughly enjoyed my short stay.
Sadly I couldn’t stay more than a couple of hours and set off with directions for another short cut that involved lots of sweeping bends on deserted roads – fantastic!
On route to Tangier it rained quite heavily but by the time I had put all my wet weather gear on it had stopped! However it did get quite muddy and I looked like I had just done several hundred miles of motorcross riding.
I stopped en-route to buy a couple of Christmas presents but otherwise I soldiered on. Of course by the time I got to Tangiers I had a 4 hour wait for the ferry and I could have spent more time in Volubilis but never mind.
The rest of the journey was not very exciting. I drove up half of Spain
Back to the UK
Finally back home to Kate and a very excited dog.
