Malham to Marrakesh

This blog will probably only make sense if you have read the previous one😉 There are some pieces of music that take me immediately back to a point in history…..the Frog Chorus is one of them and as it is such a bad song thought I ought to explain why I inflicted it on you in my last blog… It is a tradition in the French Army that following Regimental Dinners the assembled Officers sing heroic songs often telling tales of former victories…(mainly very historical as they haven’t had many recently 😜).  When therefore we discovered at Sandhurst that our final exercise prior to Commissioning was going to be hosted by the Officer Cadets of the French École Militaire at Saint Cyr we decided in the best traditions of maintaining the ‘entente cordiale’, that we, the Officer Cadets of New College, should also learn a song which we could sing in response……. For no other reason than McCartney’s musical talent, we chose the Frog Chorus 😉. The song was received as intended and following the f...

So I have finally left the deeper desert and moved 20km from the official ‘edge’ of the Sahara back into the High Atlas Mountains up the Todra George at an altitude of 1900m.  The river which flows through this impressive gorge feeds the underground aquifers and rivers under the Sahara and despite it being narrow, it is host to some great local farms; waking up to the noise of frogs and the almost overpowering smell of orange blossom is fantastic after the last week 😜 The photos of the local fauna also tell a story of the past few days from this critter I found down in a dried river bed 20m from where I camped yesterday to this frog (it was big, body around 10cm), which was in the palmerie just behind where I have stopped today….. apologies for the quality of the scorpion photo……it goes without saying I used the zoom to its max🫣 .  These things scare me!  I also was lucky enough to see 2 North African Ostrich at a distance which was a real treat as I didn’t know their r...

  Requiem to a fallen comrade It is not the critic who counts, nor the one who points out how the strong man stumbled or how the doer of deeds might have done them better.  The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred with sweat and blood and dust; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who, if he wins knows the triumph of high achievement; and who, if he fails, at least fails whilst daring greatly so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat. RIP I found this famous wreck of a fallen 80’s Paris Dakar raider in the desert of Erg Chigaga on the same day I visited an old Foreign Legion Fort which was the site of a massacre in the latter part of the 19th century……..thought provoking🤫 Desert Have stopped early for the night as I have had yet another f**king flat tyre 🤬 and...

  After a lovely week with ‘the gaffer’ ending up in Marrakesh it was back over the scary Atlas roads to the Sahara proper. The route was great, passing palm groves, old kasbah’s, and huge desert hills and outcrops. The Sahara is living up to its reputation as being a destroyer of vehicles as after 48 hrs my rear suspension has failed (not the suspension itself but the bolts which have shaken loose and in the process worn the threads of the main suspension to polished bare metal).  Managed to recover from the desert and drive the 80km to Zagora where I found a great mechanic who was able to sort the suspension and as a bonus he greased all my nipples and transmission which was nice of him (but still walking with the limp🤫) This place is magnificent, the scale and heat of the desert is immense and when I have finished the vehicle repairs tomorrow I will be heading out to the first dune areas of soft sand where I will be loosing myself for a couple of days. I also had some succ...

  Or was it a cormorant? After the far too intellectual (but rather perceptive), post by Viv after she blagged my phone, imagine my delight at seeing this bird on the seawall of Essaouira yesterday……..the title of the blog wrote itself and brought the blog back to the depths of taste it has navigated over the past few weeks 😜 Essaouira feels like a well balanced town which whilst being hugely welcoming to the Moroccan and foreign tourists who visit, it is, and always will be a traditional fishing town serving the local community.   I love fresh fish and this trip has really brought home to me how, especially considering we are an island nation, we undervalue the fish and seafood we have in our waters and how relatively difficult it now is to get fresh fish.  It amazes me that collectively we have allowed fishmongers to close and allow supermarkets to have such a sway over price and range that many people’s only experience of fish is either battered with salt and vinegar...

  Nigel has headed off to have a Hamman and carelessly left his phone with me so my chance to sneak in a guest appearance and share the ‘life controller’s side of the story!  It’s about time he had a good hose down and sandpapering, at least that way I can be sure it is a classic soldiers tan he has and not just 3 weeks of grime. We took a wander around the port in Essaouira yesterday and these fishermen tending their nets had the right skill set for living with  Nigel - the patience of Job!!  After 36 years together (yes Nigel 36!) I think that’s been a key part of remaining happily married.  And of course sending him away regularly on some sort of adventure without me.  Generally it’s a great plan but this time he left me with the kitchen refit so perhaps less ideal than usual. We are different people wired in different ways. He’s the meticulous planner, investigator, interrogator (in more ways than one), the classic left brainer that modern western socie...

Viv arrives in Marrakesh today in order check I haven’t ‘gone Native ’, and to spend a few days together in the Coastal town of Essouaria before I have back over the Atlas again and into the desert for the most challenging (but for me the most exciting part of the trip.  Over the past 34 years …… makes me feel old! We have had many trips and holidays in North Africa but this will only be our second to Morocco and the first time Viv will have been to Essaouira. Essaouira is known as the ‘windy city of Africa’ and attracts plenty of professional and amateur kite surfers starting this month but mainly between May and August……sounds like madness to me although having seen a couple of German’s indulging lower down the coast can see its attraction.  Sadly with my increasing age and girth not sure the kite has been invented to be able to do the job for me these days 😉 Over the past weeks I have been reflecting on how things have changed since the last time we were separated for reas...