Hotel Malaga, Larache
Trip Start
Sep 23, 2006
1
10
15
Trip End
Oct 06, 2006
Larache,
Morocco
Sunday, October 1, 2006
Leaving Tangier was a lot more straightforward than finding the hotel the night before
1_
. For a start it was light. The guard pointed me in the right direction to pick up signs for Rabat - the same way as to Larache. I was soon clear of Tangier and into the countryside, where the route divided into a new motorway - with toll booths, or the old road which I continued along. It is ironic that the old road, which I cycled today, had a better road surface, to my eyes, than a typical main road in the UK. This could be due to many factors - the road could be newer, the ground underneath more suitable for supporting a road, less use, better foundations, or different materials. However, this is a main road connecting major towns. I have not tried to go to smaller places inland, and may find the roads there are not as good as the UK's, if there are proper roads at all.
Riding along in Morocco has been similar to Spain in terms of the traffic - it consists of mainly cars and lorries and the occasional bus. However, there are people at the side of the road, going about their business - walking along, sitting, arranging their melon stalls. If you wave, they wave back and sometimes say something. I don't understand what they say but they seem friendly.
Just as I was coming into Larache I stopped to fish out my camera. A boy - of about 15 - came over and started chatting. After about 5 minutes I realized what he wanted - my bike
2
! He told me his village was very poor, he wanted a bike, asked how many bikes I had, and could he have one. I told him I couldn't because the other 2 were at home. At that point he said goodbye and walked. I fished out a couple of postcards of Bristol - one for him and one for his mate, that had been waiting on the other side of the road. I hope this was some consolation. Finding somewhere to eat this evening was really hard. Nowhere seemed to be serving food - or at least no one seemed to be partaking. This could be because it's Ramadan, but according to Lonely Planet this only means fasting from dawn 'til dusk. It was dark when I went out. Anyway, after asking a couple of people, I found a restaurant, where I got a good feed - Spanish omelette and egg/tomato/potato salad, with Coke to drink. I was the only customer. After that, I sat outside a café on the Place de la Libération, and had a coffee. The coffee here is served in a glass, like one you might use when cleaning your teeth. About 1.5cms' depth of strong coffee is poured in and then hot milk is poured in at the table, in front of you. I believe that's what's called a café au lait or a latte, depending on where you are. The Place de la Libération is like the hub of the town. It's a vast roundabout, with 8 roads joining onto it. There are cafés and traders all around the edge.
As a "westerner" I find the locals here amazingly tolerant. No one here appears to bat an eyelid at the fact that I am a tourist in their land. In some places, the people are openly intolerant of tourists, and whilst accepting them, make protesting gestures. Here people just get on with what they're doing. That is what I like.
