Walking East of the Kasbah En Nouar along the Talaa Kebira main passageway into the Medina led me to The Medersa Bou Inania. The religious and most extravagant monument created during the Merenid period was completed during the 14th Century.  The cost of producing such a beautiful monument were so great that on completion the Sultan Abou Inan threw the accounts into the river and declared that such ‘a thing of beauty is beyond reckoning’. It certainly is a sight to behold even now and has been partially restored to its former glory including a wooden ‘water clock’ of 13 windows with overhanging struts perched above the main entrance in the passageway and also pictured in my previous post. This monument is regarded as the ‘Taj Mahal’ of Morocco. Somehow I slipped, accidentally, into a prayer hall that was supposedly off limits to non-muslims and sneaked some shots. Oops!

My 3 day stay in Fes did not all go as planned. I was keen to try out different foods. One less than palatable thing was a salted rancid butter. I bought a little and forced it down..with a little bread. This turned into a bit of a horrorshow experience. My guts turned into a portable water cannon and I was so faint with dehydration that I could barely stand. The salty sachets of medicine I got from the nearest pharmacy tasted horrible too. I lost my third day in Fes laying in bed and trying to get fit for the next stage of my bike ride. My fault I guess. I imagine that the rancid butter  I ate had been teeming with bacteria and given me food poisoning. Anne, at home, suggested that maybe I had contracted dysentery and it was not something that she would like brought back. As a nurse she is always so caring… However  I improved sufficiently to feel fine  (and stand without falling over) about cycling to Meknes.

I left early and made my way to the gate Bab Mahrouk. Swallows filled the air and swooped low. The main walls have small holes in them and swallows use them for their nests.

Once again I felt a little sad to leave. It is difficult to leave such amazing, magical places. Despite the tummy complaint Fes had been a wonderful experience and most of the people I had met one way or another had been very friendly.

I pulled an all nighter and, having arrived in Fes (Fez) El Bali at three in the morning, found my way to the Western gate of Bab Boujeloud. It is a focus for travellers and many of the budget hotels are nearby. Once again street cleaners were my friends. The well equipped municipal cleaning services are very efficient at clearing the streets of the previous days rubbish. I had wandered in to a Southern gate of the Medina and after asking directions was escorted to Bab Boujeloud by one of the cleaners. I found the well recommended Hotel Cascade just inside the gate and returned to sit next to a Cafe with some of the cleaning team managers. The Cafe opened very early and so was able to enjoy a badly needed coffee.

The Hotel Cascade figures in every guide book as the ‘grandaddy’ of budget hotels with an excellent position to explore the medina and unmatched roof terrace with good views. With such publicity it is oversubscribed by backpackers.  Once open I peered in the doorway. The stairs are narrow and it looked quite unsuitable for carrying my bike. As it turned out there were no rooms available. Wearily I began the arduous task of finding somewhere suitable to ‘hang my coat’. Round and round I tramped. There are lots of Riads tucked away down passageways but the thought of forking out for some overblown boutique hotel kept me from making enquiries. Eventually I found myself at the gateway to the old Kasbah en Nouah a few minutes walk up from the Cascade Hotel. I was suddenly met with a flashing smile and an invitation to look at his ‘hotel’.. My knee-jerk reaction to such suggestions is usually a polite ‘no thanks’ but on this occasion I thought I would check it out. Through the 15th century gate and immediately on the left was the ‘Pension El Kasbah’. This man was the owner.. and his father had a small food shop opposite. It was delightful and cheap! Traditional Moroccan furnishings, fabulous hot shower, rooftop balcony and good facilities.  Initially I was offered a slightly pokey room without a window but then negotiated a lovely double on the first floor close to the wifi router. Lady luck had smiled on me and I had landed very nicely in Fes.

Fes itself compares to Marrakech in terms of the Medina and its complex maze of passageways that provide a spectacular display of medieval buildings. However Fes predates Marrakech and enjoyed a ‘golden age’ of prosperity during the 13th to 15th centuries during which it became the ‘Baghdad of the West’. The Medina at Fes El Bali has UNESCO world heritage status and is cited as the worlds largest car free urban area. Personally I preferred Fes as a city over Marrakech and felt that it offered a better experience. Fes is set amongst hills and has many historical sites spread across the city as a whole. The old city Medina reminded me of Kathmandu and a magical step back in time. However Marrakech seemed better for shopping, traditional crafts, workshops and well positioned as a starting point for desert excursions or mountain trekking. I feel lucky to have had the privilege to visit both places..

Having enjoyed a wonderful evening and night overlooking the reservoir I continued my way down and then followed the road East  towards the Oued (river) Laabid. Once again I was astonished at the profusion of spring flowers everywhere. April is a beautiful time to visit Morocco and before the heat starts to drain the life from the countryside.

My plan was to reach the town of Ouaouizarht and then North to Beni-Mellal which is a major transport hub for traffic moving between Marrakech, Casablanca , Rabat and Fes.  The Middle Atlas range runs parallel to the High Atlas but then stretches as far North as the Rif mountains East of Fes. I was presented with three routes to get to Beni-Mellal none of which were particularly great. The most direct route was via a busy road over a mountain. A more favourable route headed East and climbed slowly before finally stretching over the range and then circling back West towards the city. I studied that road a little through binoculars before setting off in the morning. It did not look fun.

The ride down through fields was lovely. The rocks and soil seemed a darker red than I had seen before and contrasted greatly with the brilliant green of the spring vegetation. It is a quiet area with traditional buildings and little traffic. The road connects with the Northern shore of the reservoir via a new bridge and road cut into a hillside.

Once in the modern town of Ouaouizarht, which took a little longer to reach than expected, I considered my options. The best route to take really was the most difficult. With the help of a local student I packed my bags and bike into the boot of a ‘Grand Taxi’ (Mercedes) and ‘experienced’ a ride up and over the mountain that separated us from Beni-Mellal. Looking at the road and its traffic I was glad I did but at the same time it was a little hair raising. The driver drove as fast as he could and overtook every other vehicle at every opportunity which included blind bends. I was crammed into the rear of the car which was carrying 7 people and seated next to car sick man. He spent the journey with his head hidden by his partially unravelled turban and his face in a plastic bag. Lovely. Once over the top of the mountain and descending I wished that I had been on my bike to enjoy the ride down. However the traffic was quite heavy and happy to be driven instead. It was a fair old distance to Beni- Mellal once we hit the plains and at around £4 thought the taxi ride an absolute bargain.

Beni-mellal is a modern city and has little to attract travellers aside from its transport links. However the local open market was in full swing and walked through. The old walled Medina of the city has been modernised beyond any historical interest. However I cycled around it and chatted with some cool friendly people including a few local lads with bikes and shared the strawberries I had just bought.

My original itinerary had been to visit the ‘royal cities’ of Meknes and Fes before cycling down through the High Atlas and then returning to Rabat on a coach via Marrakech. Having travelled down the coast and then to Marrakech before the Atlas I now had my sights set on completing the Royal City tour. Fes, like Marrakech, is a big attraction for travellers. So I decided, given my timescale, to book a coach ticket to Fes. Using regular coach services is very cheap in comparison to those offered by private tour operators. Rather than staying over night in Beni-Mellal I opted for a night bus. At the bus station I struck up a conversation with a young woman from Marrakech who, as it turned out, had been stood up by her boyfriend. She had travelled all the way from Marrakech to meet up with him only to be told that he was ‘too tired’ to meet her. We got on quite well and had coffee and a good chat at a local cafe. Enarbaj caught her bus back to Marrakech and I waited for my 9pm coach to Fes and the third part of my tour of Morocco.

The combination of sunshine and good temperature made for a perfect cycle ride. Although it was a fair old ride up towards the pass which would finally lead to La Cathédrale, the mountain road did not present too much of a challenge and nicely wound around and up through the range. The Marathon XR tyres were in their element and tackled the rough track with ease. My legs were now pretty good and I was able to quickly climb and enjoy breathtaking views. Awesome!

I had to cross a few rivers that cut across my path and, like my experiences in Ladakh, the road was sometimes crumbling away or partially blocked by rockfalls but I did not have to unload or carry the bike. It was good to have a decent snow fed water supply.

Apologies for this post being a little picture intensive especially to anyone on a lacklustre internet connection. However I loved this part of my journey and want to show how absolutely amazing this part of the world is and, hopefully, encourage others to cycle this route. The R302 from Demnate to the Bin el Ouidane reservoir via Ait Bougomez is less than 200 miles of breathtaking scenery and quite a departure from the mainstream Moroccan ‘experience’.

Once up and over the pass close to Le Cathedrale the road dropped away and I cycled down through a pine forest and towards the river Melloul.  The great monumental rock at Le Cathedrale is a huge draw for climbers and base jumpers. The magnificent rock stands proud above its surroundings. It reminded me a little of Sigiriya or Lions Rock in Sri Lanka.

Once again I climbed up until finally the road levelled towards the Tizi-n-Tirhist pass (2629 m). I met, for the first time on this trip, other touring cyclists; a Belgian couple. They had explored the area some ten years previously and were spending a few weeks touring the valleys.

Reaching snow is always good fun. Despite the high ambient temperature ice remained packed into the banks as I climbed up and towards the junction and road that leads North to Ait Mohammed. I packed my bottles with ice and enjoyed the rare opportunity to drink deliciously cold water. The views once again were spectacular. Towards the North high hills rolled into the distance. Making and enjoying fresh coffee at altitude with a fantastic view is one of the things that I really enjoy when cycle touring.

Where the wind swept around the pass the ground is relatively barren and snow clings to the hills. Once I had crossed the Pass the road slowly dropped to reach a small settlement. It then turned into donkey work with another sweaty climb with the sun high in the sky.

I truly felt as if I was back in Ladakh. The landscape became dry, rugged and barren. The views are superb. Finally the road began, once again, to drop. For half an hour I cruised down through endless loops towards the town of  Zaouia-Ahanesal with its fast flowing river and green fields. I picked my way along a small path by the river until I reached a Gite  directly next to a tall keep and grain store which stands proudly above the settlement. I had couscous for dinner at the Gite; a first for me in Morocco. The plate was piled embarrassingly high and it was far more than I could manage. But somehow I tucked away a fair bit…

The road North East from Zaouia-Ahanesal follows the river closely. All around huge monolithic rock formations rise up like walls and provide what must be a paradise for trekkers and climbers.

The track is fairly rough and really only suitable for 4×4 vehicles. That morning I had my first and only nasty scrape of the ride. My front tyre bounced off a rock and  I lost the steering amongst the scree. In falling off the bike I landed on the right hand and neatly removed a good patch of skin off my palm. As for motorcycling it is best to have some kind of protective layer (jeans are good for lower limbs) and foolishly I had set off without wearing my wooly gloves. I had to put them on after this to stop the blood messing up the handlebars and getting sore. Better me than damaging the bike tho. I self repair okay.

The road closely followed every bend in the river and then began to climb and wind around the mountains. I was heading towards the clouds and loving every moment..

Working East past Agouti and then North towards La Cathedrale provided a complete departure from the Morocco I had already experienced. The comparison with Nepal is fair. The scenery changes quite drastically from deep gorges cut by rivers to rocky roads and high alpine views. At times the road took me up to the snow line. It was everything that I had hoped for. The valleys are green, well cultivated, carefully irrigated and planned. Spring flowers were in abundance everywhere. I felt lucky to have the opportunity to travel through an area that had seen such little change for centuries. It felt like travelling back in time. Once cut off by snow for much of the year the area is now readily accessible by road. Pylons follow its course powering schools, businesses and satellite TVs. The outside world is moving in, building second homes and bringing change..

Continuing along the R302 to its most Southern point I then had to head a little North and climb towards the junction that led to Azilal. Following the twisting loops I set up camp with a panoramic view of the snow capped massif.

The Route 302 towards ‘happy valley’ involves increasingly steeper climbs. Initially and after climbing out of Imi-n-Ifri, I was rewarded with a long ride down into the lush Aït Blel valley. However the road wound its way back up..and up towards a high pass. The road became difficult. It appeared newly constructed with high banks, deep water drainage ditches and a helluvah incline. The road surface was made up of loose grey gravel. It was, in effect, impossible to cycle. I pushed my bike slowly up that damn slope through a series of loops that seemed to go on forever until finally I reached the pass. By this time it was getting late and thankfully there was, what appeared to be, an old ruined Kasbah perched on the hill. I camped inside the walls.

At just below 2000m altitude the night was a little nippy but it was a welcome change from the heat of the plains.
From the pass I dropped down towards Aït Bououli valley. This area provides a staging post for Trekkers tackling the M’Goun Massif. The M’Goun at just over 4000 metres is the fourth highest peak in the High Atlas range. Within the valley I found a traditional home converted to a Gite. I shared a Tajine meal with the family and was shown their carpentry workshop. I took a walk along the river that ran just below the village. It was certainly a very beautiful and relaxing place.

With a slightly heavier heart I continued my journey deeper into the High Atlas range…

Leaving Marrakech I found myself on the N9 towards the Tizi-n-Tichka pass. My intention was to take the N8 and R210 East towards Demnate but somehow was funnelled amongst the traffic onto the N9. No worries, I thought, I will cut North via a side route. Oddly though my efforts kept swinging me back onto the N9. Initially it was frustrating. Various maps were useless and were less than representative. However it proved to be a good route and took me past farms and villages. Increasingly the road worked its way up into the Atlas and offered wonderful views. Finally I took a turning North towards Sidi Rahal on the R210.

The ride across and down towards Sidi Rahal was quite exhilarating. I camped past the highest point but with great views of the snow capped peaks to the South and the Great Plains to the North. Once at Sidi Rahal I had to make my way East to Demnate. It took some effort to get up to Demnate and the heat made it all the more difficult. As a town Demnate appears unremarkable but provides an important crossroads in each direction. I continued climbing into the pine forests before reaching Imi-n-Ifri and a wonderful Gite.

Imi-n-Ifri (grottos mouth in Berber) has a natural bridge created by a collapsed cave. It is quite an extraordinary sight and with care it is possible to walk through it.

I wandered down after dinner and the air was filled with the sound of toads. One jumped close to my feet and in the dark I took a picture.

The Gite is quite near to the cave and the river continues behind it carving deeply through the rocks.
It was all quite beautiful and unspoilt.

I stayed two nights at the Gite and enjoyed wonderful hospitality from the owner who was a retired mountain guide. I was in two minds about what to do next. I could take the road over the Atlas to Skoura and recommended by a friend. But I feared the heat in the South for cycling (it had already been unusually hot) and looked instead to traverse the Atlas East towards the Ait Bouguemez Valley and La Cathedral. Finally I opted for the latter. Ait Bouguemez or ‘happy valley’ had only recently become accessable to travellers and I had heard it described as ‘like Nepal’. I decided to ‘do’ the R302.