Blog from Morocco-4-16-08
My healing cocoon on the ocean, Tarhazoute, Morocco
Greetings from my healing cocoon on the ocean in Morocco. I ended up renting a studio apartment my Moroccan Angel Simohamed found for me--total peace and quiet and it’s just what the doctor ordered. More on the healing process later. Hold on to your armchair as the ride from Mauritania to Morocco was truly a doooooozy and must read!
It was last Monday night, April 7, 2008 which could go down as the scariest day of my entire 6 year adventure. I was waiting for a Moroccan fruit truck to come fetch me at a hotel meeting point outside the capital of Mauritania, Nouakchott. About an hour before our meeting time I heard rapid machine gun fire in very close proximity. At first I thought it might be a military drill of some sort, but when dozens of military and police trucks came speeding by full of armed men screaming at everyone to get out of the way, I knew it was serious. It was so serious the owner of the hotel insisted that I hide in the hotel.
It was last Monday night, April 7, 2008 which could go down as the scariest day of my entire 6 year adventure. I was waiting for a Moroccan fruit truck to come fetch me at a hotel meeting point outside the capital of Mauritania, Nouakchott. About an hour before our meeting time I heard rapid machine gun fire in very close proximity. At first I thought it might be a military drill of some sort, but when dozens of military and police trucks came speeding by full of armed men screaming at everyone to get out of the way, I knew it was serious. It was so serious the owner of the hotel insisted that I hide in the hotel.
My Moroccean fruit truck--a 51 hour adventure!
Recently four French tourists were killed by extremist Islamic groups and the famous Dakar Rally was canceled due to terrorist threats. I did not fear for my life, but my heart was sure racing. The gunfire and bombs went on for over an hour and finally mellowed out just after dark. Just as it eased off my fruit truck arrived to pick me up and take me to Morocco, in the same direction where the gun fire came from.
As we loaded up the bike and my gear into empty fruit crates the driver and his crew were discussing what to do with me. After some discussion with several concerned bystanders we decided I would be safe as long as they hid me in the back cab and covered me up in blankets in case there was a road block. It was the scariest 15 minutes of my life, but we made it out of Nouakchott arrived at the border about midnight.
As we loaded up the bike and my gear into empty fruit crates the driver and his crew were discussing what to do with me. After some discussion with several concerned bystanders we decided I would be safe as long as they hid me in the back cab and covered me up in blankets in case there was a road block. It was the scariest 15 minutes of my life, but we made it out of Nouakchott arrived at the border about midnight.
Said and Bachir doing their time w/ a smile in the cab
We slept in some roadside truckers stop and were up early to hit the boarder with dozens of other trucks. I had no idea what I was in store for here. Turns out the Moroccan government is doing a major crackdown on trafficking of all sorts of people, drugs, and items coming from the south. So what I hoped would be a few hours to cross turned out to be about 7 hours! And I earned my place in the cab as I had to help the loading of hundreds crates back in the truck after the inspectors were through. Nuts! I was starting to regret taking my friend Mohammed’s advice back in Nouakchott.
After we finally made it through the border I was told to get back into the back of the cab, but now I had to share this very small space with a Moroccan man named Bachir. Turns out that the driver wanted to make a few more bucks and picked up a gypsy woman Nadia at the border to take her 1,000+ kilometers to Laayounne. I was told by my buddy Mohammed no more than 3 for sure—“I’ve done it dozens of time, mate. It’s the best way to go! You can sleep all the way in the back and stretch out!”. Mohammed is a Scottsman who moved to Mauritania and converted to Islam who I was trying not to curse as Bachir and I shared sweat from our legs and exchanged cramps for hours on end.
After we finally made it through the border I was told to get back into the back of the cab, but now I had to share this very small space with a Moroccan man named Bachir. Turns out that the driver wanted to make a few more bucks and picked up a gypsy woman Nadia at the border to take her 1,000+ kilometers to Laayounne. I was told by my buddy Mohammed no more than 3 for sure—“I’ve done it dozens of time, mate. It’s the best way to go! You can sleep all the way in the back and stretch out!”. Mohammed is a Scottsman who moved to Mauritania and converted to Islam who I was trying not to curse as Bachir and I shared sweat from our legs and exchanged cramps for hours on end.
Up front it was good fun w/ tons of loud Moroccan music
Oh wait, it gets better! I noticed the truck making a turn and was hoping the agony was over and we were stopping for the 2nd night. But no, we were turning around to drive back over 100KM to the driver Rachid’s brother’s fruit truck which has flipped over! The scene was nuts—a fruit truck on it’s side at 1AM, tons of Moroccans about trying to figure out how to flip it back over on it’s wheels.
As I got out to have a closer look our other compadre of our adventure Said told me in French that I should stay inside the cab until the police leave. Turns out that truck had a passenger I there who was whisked away in an ambulance and they feared if they saw me they might not allow me to carry on. Once again, I was hidden in the cab until the police left it to the drivers to try to flip this huge fruit truck over!
I was eventually allowed out of the truck as several attempts were made using regular rope that snapped immediately. Hours went by as they rounded up rope, twine, and all sorts of shrapnel of webbing from drivers. But just as I was losing hope, and my patience now at 3AM, they managed to flip the truck over as the crowd roared and a massive dust cloud blew right into my face putting me into a coughing attack so strong I vomited and cried. Yep, quite an adventure!
As I got out to have a closer look our other compadre of our adventure Said told me in French that I should stay inside the cab until the police leave. Turns out that truck had a passenger I there who was whisked away in an ambulance and they feared if they saw me they might not allow me to carry on. Once again, I was hidden in the cab until the police left it to the drivers to try to flip this huge fruit truck over!
I was eventually allowed out of the truck as several attempts were made using regular rope that snapped immediately. Hours went by as they rounded up rope, twine, and all sorts of shrapnel of webbing from drivers. But just as I was losing hope, and my patience now at 3AM, they managed to flip the truck over as the crowd roared and a massive dust cloud blew right into my face putting me into a coughing attack so strong I vomited and cried. Yep, quite an adventure!
We FINALLY made it to Morocco with GREAT food!
The last day of this 51 hour adventure was actually pretty fun as the delirium set in and I just surrendered to the madness. Not to mention, our passenger Nadia got out and we were all able to stretch out again. It was still a long way to go with all the military checkpoints and my cough was getting worse with Rachid’s chain smoking, but we were had some fun and even did some filming with the guys.
But just as we were only 120km from Agadir Rachid decided he was through paying bribes to the police and he decided to take small, hilly, very slow backroads to Agadir. This would have been all fine and well, except for the fact that it brought us into Agadir wall after dark with 20km still to go to my healing cocoon where I’m now writing. Rachid promised me on the road he would take me the extra 20km to Tarhazoute but when we arrived outside of Agadir he had a change of heart.
But just as we were only 120km from Agadir Rachid decided he was through paying bribes to the police and he decided to take small, hilly, very slow backroads to Agadir. This would have been all fine and well, except for the fact that it brought us into Agadir wall after dark with 20km still to go to my healing cocoon where I’m now writing. Rachid promised me on the road he would take me the extra 20km to Tarhazoute but when we arrived outside of Agadir he had a change of heart.
So I had to drop 30 bucks to go 20km with all my gear, when I just paid under 100 to go 2000km. Classic! I arrived in Tarhazoute at 10:30pm, about 51 hours after I left Nouakchott. The yoga-surf camp I had hoped to heal at was closed, locked up and they were not answering the door. But, as always, there was an Angel waiting to help me—Simohamed came out of the blue and offered me a bed in his 2 bedroom flat and we got along like peas and carrots right away.
My Moroccean Angel Simohamed cookin it up!
Simohamed has been like a brother to me, helping me find my healing studio on the ocean, bringing me food, finding me a new phone after mine disappeared and so much more. His good friend Nadia, a production manager from Casablanca, also come into the picture as my nurse and has brought me breakfast of fresh juice, yummy bread and great company.
My first night out of my cocoon with Nadia, Simohamed and crew for dinner
That leads me to where I am now, which is on night 6 of a 7 night stay at this oceanfront apartment, which I will likely extend a few days. I am happy to report that I am REALLY healing this time. I resisted the temptation to surf a lovely swell and turned down many invitations to frolic and play. I actually stayed still for 4 days straight, drinking 10+ liters of water a day, and watching dozens of movies! And FINALLY I’m not coughing!!! And my chest is finally releasing a month worth of muck one ugly loogie at a time. I just needed to slow down, admit I’m human, and heal.
Don't think of putting on your sandals!
I am grateful for all the prayers from around the world. I’m going to move VERY SLOWLY back into action again, likely opting to take a miss on N. Africa until next November where I’ll return as soon as Europe starts getting too cold and wet to ride down to Mauritania and maybe even revisit The Gambia. I’ll post the new general schedule of Europe soon, as it becomes revealed
The view from my free WiFi score on the beach where I'm sending this :)
Over and out from Morocco!!!!
Big love!
Jamie
Big love!
Jamie
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