24 May 2023, Derdara, 78km
Casa Chiref R752 [DH400]
What a delicious way to end a long day. A baked aubergine starter, a kofte (meatball) tagine, and a yoghurt dessert with a sweet topping of nuts and candied sultanas. The proprietors of the Casa Chiref in Derdara pride themselves on serving organic food, and I must admit it was fabulous. (If you want Coke, you'll have to buy it at the intersection before you settle in for the night). We also have a very pretty blue room and a decent bathroom with perhaps the best shower in Morocco to date.
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It was not an easy ride, though easier than anticipated. It seems the fitter you get, the easier your rides get! Go figure!
We had about 900 metres in elevation gain in just under 60km. Lots of hills, one mountain, six-and-a-half hours in the saddle (or pushing the bike), eight hours door to door. The 90 minute difference is time spent taking roadside breaks or photos, or eating lunch.
The N13 was in good nick with a narrow shoulder for the first 20km. Thereafter, it fell into its old ways, narrow with a more mangled surface and ragged edges.
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Dilemma 1: Temperature control on the bike is not easy. On a cool and cloudy day like today, while you will heat to sweaty on the uphills, you will get cold on the downhills or when you take a break. There is no simple fix unless you strip in every hollow and dress on every crest. I choose to chill on the downs and pop on my lightweight raincoat during longer breaks.
Dilemma 2: It is virtually impossible for cycling partners to cycle at the same speed, particularly couples. Usually the men carry more luggage, which slows them somewhat. Charl in general is patient about having to wait for me, except when he is tired and eager to call it quits. Then he says I am not trying hard enough!
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Today's hills enclosed us more intimately than on our last ride. For much of the day we cycled through a nature reserve where hilltops sported trees and bush, fire breaks cutting through the flora. On the lower slopes and in the valleys, farming. Quite often one also sees fields at impossible angles high on the hills and mountains. We assume all farming at an angle is manual labour.
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Motorists and pedestrians and men drinking tea encouraged us with greetings and grins and thumbs up. We met four Moroccan cyclists. We fed four squabbling cats under our orange plastic table on poulet and potatoes from our lunch tagine. We had two stressful dog incidents: During the first I had to call for the lady of the house to come and rescue me from her territorial pooch. During the second, neither Charl nor I could persuade an aggressive canine to leave us be. She chased us both, teeth bared, and while Charl could probably have out-distanced her, I could not. I was so frightened, I actually screamed. In the end, of course, she turned away and we went on our way...