Thoughts

The ferry was lovely. I met a couple of adventure riders in the ferry terminal and we went straight into a night of drinks. The next day, I worked a bit, dozed a bit and then met up again with Mac, one of the bikers from the first night. He and I spent the the whole afternoon and evening chatting and he was very agreeable company. He had got almost the same ferry out as me and had been to similar places, so had some very comparable experiences. It was a lovely end to a wonderful adventure. At the end of the journey, I had only 100km to go until home, but I'd decided to stay in Portsmouth as the combination of wrong side of the road, cold, dark, damp and end of adventure jubilation seemed like a dangerous combo.

I keep thinking my adventure is done and I keep being proven wrong. When I arrived in Spain, my friend Alex got in touch asking if I would pass through Madrid. I hadn’t planned to, as breaking Spain into three days would mean stopping before and after Madrid. I was looking at a long, cold day to get there. But on the other hand - Solo night in a hotel vs hanging out with wonderful people. I know Alex and Cristina from the burner scene - we met at a burn called Nowhere in a Spanish desert. 200km into my 600km ride, I was ready to be done for the day and had had a couple of scary moments involving slippy roads. I got two messages from Rachel (my friend that visited earlier in the trip) one was encouragement and the other was “now get on with it” which is 100% what I needed. I stopped again with 195km to go and had flipped from “I can’t do this” to “OK… I got this”. I arrived at Jorge’s flat (Alex’s partner), really tired and cold. I was a little nervous about meeting him solo - I think mostly down to tiredness and long day. But, he had a lovely way of making me feel instantly easy. I had a hot shower. Alex arrived and the three of us headed out for ramen with Cristina. We ended up staying chatting until 3:30. One of the places they mentioned was Segovia and Alex mentioned how seeing the Roman aqueduct was really cool in a way that was “more than she expected”. The next morning, I decided to ride through Segovia to see it. It was, in fact, super cool. I managed to grab a selfie or two before being chased away by police. The city looks super nice and I have filed it away as a place to stop over at on my next trip down through Spain. I just got into my hotel and have now warmed up. Tomorrow is only 200km. I am very much looking forward to seeing my daughters at the weekend.

Ok... I just got up. Clearly far too tipsy to go out. So, I'm off out. Laters

To be fair - I mostly blame Rachel. I wasn't supposed to be left alone like this. Adult supervision required.

Ok...I may have messed this up. I think I'm now too wasted and full of cheese to go out. I gotta dig deep. This motorcycle adventure stuff ain't for those that aren't prepared to do the hard things. You got this girl. Okay. On three... *Several minutes pass* /Takes another sip of wine.

Today has been an oasis. I have a little apartment with a kitchen. And bought all the stuff for breakfast in bed this morning. Small thing, but I've not had this to myself since I left and the solitude was wonderful. Then I went for a walk to the beach and stared at the boisterous Mediterranean. Next was a boozy lunch in the sun. I actually got sunburnt for the first time on the trip. After lunch I had a Thai massage. I can strongly recommend finding a Thai woman to beat the shit out of you for two hours. I got such a euphoria that I left with a huge giddy grin on my face. Now I'm having a pre supper warm up of cheese and wine on the balcony before heading back out to old town again. This has been just what I needed. Really ready to get back out on the road tomorrow. Love to you all 😘 S x

I'm in Marbella, on the south coast of Spain. I came here as I have a doctor's appointment on Monday, so plan to chill, sleep and eat amazing food. Marbella is a stark contrast to the mud hut villages and the tent shantytowns that we saw in the Atlas mountains and for that reason, I'm finding it a little too brash. On the other hand, my mental health is a million times better than I was a few days ago in Morocco. I had a wonderful time, but because of some difficult shit, I think I was right to get out. I took my first smiling photo today in quite a while and it's quite genuine. Old town Marbella is very beautiful. And I randomly happened to arrive 30 seconds before all the Christmas lights were turned on. I'd forgotten about Christmas. Last time I was in this town, I was recovering from surgery. I'm writing from a restaurant that I ate only a few days after that life changing moment. I'm eating the same meal, almost on the same day but many years later. It's an interesting way to bathe in nostalgia.

However, I just realised how tired I look. All day I've been "why do I feel so tired??". Then after seeing this pic, I was like "yeah...it's because I'm exhausted"

Priorities eh? This girl's motorcycle broke and she rode 3000km without a back brake. But what can she not live without fixing asap? Brows! Caterpillars are now banished for another four weeks.

Well... Life is fun isn't it? First the bar man came over and babbled at me in Spanish. I looked blankly at him. He then said "you understand". I replied "not at all". He smiled and then said "You've been here before! One, maybe two months ago! And you don't speak Spanish yet!" and he gestures up to the ceiling in mock exacerbation, though I presume it to God rather than the actual ceiling. The whole encounter is charming and full of banter. I then say "they speak French in Morocco!". Then he points and says "Next time... ok?" So that left me smiling. But that's not even the big thing... I've just heard from two friends that I know from the Burner community who are in Madrid. There's a chance that I will see them on the way up north, which is super exciting and a reminder that the adventure isn't over yet.

Well... I've now made it back to Europe after riding to Africa without dying. I'm sat in the lounge of my hotel in Algiciras. It is the same hotel I left from: It's an oldskool, somewhat tired hotel, but it's buzzing with adventurers. It is the main hotel used as a staging ground by anyone about to make the crossing and I've had fun talking to people in the lobby and bar that are about to go south tomorrow and begin their adventure. This place feels different to me now... or maybe I'm different. Last time I was here I was about to make my crossing. I was anxious and excited. Now I'm full of memories and excitement at seeing my girls in a few days. My bike has taken a beating. she has no back brake, an instrument panel lit up like a christmas tree with warning lights I have a ruined phone, damaged camera and am substantially poorer, but I'm completely hooked. Already dreaming of other adventures. For now though my immediate priorities are: 1. Finish this beer. 2. Sleep 3. Tomorrow: Find somewhere to get my brows done - because I'm now at the stage where' I'm fighting the urge to walk into rooms with my hands over these face caterpillars. 4. Head north for the ferry to England.

This has given me the opportunity to start drying my socks out on the engine.

After a staggeringly wet day riding up to Tanger Med port, I'm now sat in the queue for the ferry. Unfortunately my phone is probably dead from the rain today, which is super annoying. Also - I had a weird experience at customs. I got held for a very long time. They let maybe 2 dozen cars through as they kept me waiting. I just smiled when anyone official passed by. Smiles seem to help everything. I also shivered a lot. This was not an affectation as my boots were full of rainwater. Occasionally a cluster of uniformed officials came out to look at my bike with the papers. They would point. One even took photos. After an hour or so, the man came back with my papers. He said "we had problems because your vehicle was a car when it came in, but it's ok. you can go"

I'm now dashing northeast to get to Tangier for the ferry (either to Barcelona or Algeciras). I went to go and get my bike this morning and bring it to the hotel to load up. There were four other adventure bikes apparently on the same mission. I followed three local bikes into the medina. And was loosely aware of a whistling behind me. I rode to my hotel and there was a cop outside. I signalled ✌️and said "deux minutes". He nodded and said "D'accord" (ok). I got my bags and came out to find another cop outside. He started shouting at me quickly in French. Far above my rate of words or vocab. The security guy and original cop came over. And the owner of the hotel came out. Eventually it was explained to me that I was not allowed to ride in the medina. This, as multiple local motorcycles whizzed by. He says I have to pay a big fine. Next a french woman came over and got in his face. I could understand her. She was telling him to leave me alone and was gesturing at the other motos. They got into a heated argument. I started to worry that what might have been a fine and go, might escalate. I thank the woman and encourage her to move on. She begins to move away, then reengages with the cop. I'm starting to find the shouting very distressing, so... I burst into tears. This was not deliberate, but helped to diffuse the situation a little. The original cop is trying to calm me down a little. And the angry cop is now back in my face and realises I'm crying. He fills out a form, takes my papers and demands the fine. He rides off on his motorcycle. Original cop then says to me "I'm sorry about him. He is a racist. He is a famous racist. He hates the white people. Because of the french colonization. I'm sorry. We're not like him. He is a racist". Then he shows me his police bike on his phone - basically the more road focused version of my bike. I am just packing to leave and motorcycle/fine-me-cop whizzes back on his little bike. And *Plot Twist*... gives me a necklace. He says "This is a gift for you. I want you to have a good time in Morocco".... I then ask if I am ok to ride through the medina to leave. He says "yes" and rides away. Original Cop, then asks for my phone number "to check on me". I didn't feel able to refuse, so gave it to him. Then as I was leaving the gate to the medina, Cop 2 (who fined me) starts following me. I'm dreading another shakedown. And as we approach the edge of the city, he blows me a kiss and rides away. As I fly up the motorway, Cop 1 calls my phone every 15-20 minutes. I haven't answered. The whole thing was utterly bizarre.

Hello all Sorry for the radio silence over the last few days. I had something bad happen to me a couple of weeks ago and it's been tough to deal with. Spending the week with Rach was a wonderful distraction, but now I'm solo again, it's been a lot. Essaouira is a wonderful place, but I can't seem to get my head back in the game. I made the decision that it's time to head out of Morocco as quickly as possible. So starting tomorrow, I'm heading home. Soph x

Advice that Rachel gave me right at the start of the trip

Most of the ride yesterday was motorways. Before I left, however, I got lost in the medina for half an hour. For context these are tight alleyways and markets, sometimes barely bigger than the bike rammed with people and local mopeds. By the time I found the hotel to load up, my clutch hand was aching. Not much to report from the motorway ride apart from another electrical failure on the bike. I think I'm aiming for a full bingo card of warning lights by the time I get home. I saw a dam and a large reservoir which was quite cool, but the most interesting thing on the motorway was when it cut through the mountains (in a man made pass) and began to descend relatively quickly, the flat plane of the valley floor appeared to be at 90 degrees to me. It was like that visual in the movie Inception*. After a few moments of staring at in, my brain software began to rectify the optical illusion and the receded back into place. After the mountains, I turned west towards the sea. My first fleeting glimpse of the atlantic was exciting. Then the road came closer and followed the coast north. The buildings were really modern and it felt like being in California or an affluent part part of southern spain with fancy, large modern houses nestled in the hills. A strange contrast to the mud houses of the villages of the south. I rode through the place I thought I was staying, into the hills above. And my "beachfront" property turned out to be 2km from the sea. It is a large, very modern building with very stark furnishing. It feels a little like a Scandinavian prison. The man welcomed me in a very kind way. But I was tired, missing Rachel, the hotel was like a morgue and the room amplified the sense of loneliness. I asked where the restaurants were and he indicated that they were a ride away. I went out and two places declined to serve me (for unspecified reasons). I felt dejected and too tired to continue to invest in the evening. I returned to the hotel, stopping at the little shop in the suburb and bought some pringles and chocolate and went to bed with an episode of TV. I woke twelve and a half hours later (with my laptop on top of me) and am now having breakfast in the sun. The sea is indeed visible (as a small triangle in the distance between two buildings). That's marketing I suppose. Last night I had resolved to move, but this morning I think I will stay as I have not done enough work hours while Rachel is here and this place has really fast internet and is free of distractions. *I'll put a picture of the thing I mean from the movie in case you haven't seen it. I could pull a pic off the GoPro, but I think it was an optical illusion created by the software in my brain rather than the hardware of my eyes.

I just said goodbye to Rachel, my traveling companion for the last week. I had a wonderful time adventuring with her for the last week. Our last 48 hours in Marrakech have been brilliant. Yesterday was a day of contrasts. We spent the morning getting oily and dirty servicing Gertie. On the way out of the garage, I saw a wheel hanging on the wall. I asked the owner what bike it was for. Unfortunately not mine. We talked about my wheel issues.And I showed him the new spokes. They were super loose now, which was a little shocking. He offered a cast wheel for 150eur. I said no as I want a spoked one. Then as I was riding away, I thought "this wheel could disintegrate at any time". 150 EUR on the 3000 km trip home is 5c per mile for safety. My kids deserve me not to take that risk. So I went back and asked them to fit the new wheel. Next we went for a Hammam. This was a private one and so quite different to the public Hammam that I went to last time. We both left glowing. And in the evening we went to a rooftop bar with cocktails, great food and brilliant music. We danced like idiots. Now I'm back to riding solo. Next stop, the coast (I hope).