Now some would think it unkind of me to make fun of Miss Anderson, especially as she travelled so far to be here, with the expectation that she might see something of this fine country other than Marakech.  However for those of you who know me, you know that I am unlikely to let compassion get in the way of a good story. For here in Marakech we have multiple lanes of traffic containing a mixture of scooters, cars, vans, donkeys and horse drawn carriages (the smell of shit is quite something in some parts). Crossing the road, as you can imagine, can be quite an adventure. But as with all things style and nonchalance are things that one should try and retain.  It is possible, with practice, to step out into the road and thread your way between the various vehicles.  As far as I can tell the drivers of Morocco do not wish to kill pedestrians - so it's possible to take a few chances and gamble on them hitting the brakes. So far, after 9 days in the city these ...

On a day when Moroccan families have ritually slaughtered a sheep each and community barbecues have sprung up all over the medina, our fearless adventurer is in bed with a woollen hat and long johns on. It appears that no matter how warm the winter, colds and lurgy are still abundant. He has African Man Flu. So, today he's asked me to update you all instead. It certainly gives me break from the roof terrace and trying to protect my off blue scottish pelt from becoming lobster red! After many, many, many international phone calls, quite a large dollop of stress, multiple visits to the garage and an anxious wait outside the DHL office in Marrakesh, Lucy's spare parts have arrived – Hoorah! Aziz, the only person who's made any sense in this whole thing drove the van here himself, greeting 'Mr Andrew' with a parcel as everyone was trying to pack up for the Moroccan equivalent of Christmas. A huge thanks to everyone who's been checking on progress here, and i...

The parts are now in Cassablanca and have been for two days.  However DHL seem incapable of shifting them the equivalent of Manchester to Carlisle and we are going a little crazy.  I know it seems wrong to complain, especially with so much rain and  flooding in the UK, but we should have been out of here three days ago.  Virginia should be in Glasgow and I should be in Madrid. Grrrrrrrr The Van Man

Well it has been an interesting few days.  I fitted the parts V brought over from the UK but with only limited success.  So on Friday we limped into town and the VW garage.  A new fuel pump is required and currently one is on its way from the UK.  We have visited pretty much everywhere there is to visit and are now beginning to go a little stir crazy .......... There are places worse than Marakech to be holed up.  We are staying in a wonderful Riad on the edge of the Souk.  It was very hairy finding our way in and out to start with but we have got the hang of it now. The stand out experience has been our Hamam visit  a hot steamy scrub down followed by massage. We are hoping the parts will be here tomorrow with an escape on Thursday.  Which will mean a mad race north to catch the ferry from Bilbao on Monday lunchtime. The Van Man and Glaswegian assistant V

I'm taking advantage of the wireless connection to post a quick update.  Firstly I am delighted to say both sets of parts were safely handed to Miss Anderson on Penrith and Oxenholme Railway stations this morning (despite floods holding up the train) and the wonderful guy from Rayrigg Motors sitting it out at the station waiting for over an hour.  Virginia is now in the air and I will be driving (tentatively) across town to pick her up from the airport in an hour or so. I tried to fit the new HT leads today (some spare parts that I carried here from England) only to find out that Just Kampers sent the wrong ones ........... well I can't make them fit and they don't have the same fittings as the ones that are on, grrrrrr. So here's hoping it's not them that are faulty. Otherwise my luck continues to stay with me.  A lovely German couple have just come and parked next to me and it turns out the man has an old VW van like mine and spent a winter re-building the engin...

Close followers of this blog will be aware that despite á little fan belt hiccup on day one of the journey proper all has been pleasantly (for me) quiet on the mechanical front. Today saw a small change and one that I hope will not escalate into a full blown epic ................... It was my time to return back through and over the Atlas Mountains to Marrakech today, a nice 6,000 foot high pass to negotiate and countless hairpin bends. In fact there are two passes to cross as you go through the mountains and it was as I was about 4 miles from the top of the second and smaller of the two the engine began to mis-fire. Not too dramatic but enough to make me pull over and dig out the Haynes manual. There's nothing like being over 1500 miles away from home and more importantly about 700 miles away from RAC breakdown cover to instil a new found interest in motor maintenance. I am not a complete fool, but for any non mechanic who has skimmed through a Haynes manual you quickly realise...

Mount Toubkal was up at the top of my 'to do's' when planning my visit to Morroco. It is the highest mountain in N Africa and pretty big at 4,167m. Most people hire a guide and a donkey to carry their gear. But I was travelling with penniless students so we were our own guides and donkeys. It is normally done as a two or three day trek. Walking into a refuge on day one and then doing the hill the next day. Returning as soon as possible. We left Marrakech early on Saturday morning and drove into the mountains. We ate a wonderful breakfast of lentil soup at a roadside cafe before driving to Imlil, the end of the road. I ended up climbing the mountain with two young Morrocan couchsurfing friends and a student from the Czech republic that we picked up along our way. The walk to the refuge rises over 4,500 feet taking you from wooded valleys to a dry, cold, icy barren rock covered world. We walked through brilliant sunshine taking our time, accompanied by donkeys and guides. We ...

Once I passed south over the Atlas Mountains I entered the Draa valley. It was my route to the desert and my home for several days. The Draa is Morroco's longest river and provides water for palmeries i.e. palm groves which follow its banks. These in turn support a necklace of villages and towns heading over 150km south into the desert. Once you are a few km away from the river dry desert stretches as far as the eye can see with chains of rugged arid mountains on all sides. The settlements along the Draa are on the traditional caravan route north out of the Sahara to Marrakesh. As a consequence they were very wealthy and each has at least one mud walled kasbah i.e. castle. The Kasbah's were built to protect people and possessions from raiders. The palmeries are very fertile and I camped in one that produces dates, figs, onions, aubergines, tomatoes, carrots; wheat and fodder for the animals. Animals are kept indoors to protect them from the heat. In the traditional houses this ...

Zagora is a bit of an arm pit of a town. It is a centre for tourists launching themselves into the desert, the millitary that guard the contested border with Algeria and the market town for the surrounding area. I experienced the worst hassle since crossing the border here. Tourists seem to be preyed upon like carrion, charmless pressure sales techniques, men hollering at you from all sides and people simply expecting you to put money in their outstretched hands. Despite this hassle I found a very nice campsite which had a range of mini suites and sleeping cabins around a small garden on the edge of the palm grove. It was here that I arranged a two day trip into the desert. Morocco's portion of the Sahara is predominantly rock and stone fringed by mountains to the north rather than the classic golden sands of popular imagination. However it does have two large dune systems, the largest, Erg Chigaga, is situated just north of the Algerian border about 100km south of Zagora an...

Apologies for what will now be a mini deluge of posts written in the van over the last two weeks but which I have not been able to post. Also no photos cos I cannot get them onto this computer in the desert; sand in the works I think .......... I am very well. Heading bqck north towards Marrakech tomorrow after lots of fun in the desert and mountains of the south east .......

I have been away from a computer for several days now; so no time for flowery prose. I am typing this in Ouarzazate just south of the Atlas mountains after the most amazing drive over a 6000 foot high mountain pass from Marakech. I have been travelling with a number of Moroccans and a Czech guy since Friday. We had a night in Marakech then hit the mountains. Climbing Mount Toubkal the highest in N Africa on Monday. Today I head into the desert ...................... all well with the van man: Andy

Greetings from Chefchaouen on the edge of the Rif Mountains in Morocco. Today could not have gone smoother - not quite - I did drive onto a toll road with no local currency and have to trade some euros for dirhims from another motorist before being let through the barrier .......... oops Otherwise it was great. I got lots of hassle from touts at the border, but that is expected. I have also been offered enough cannabis to comatose a whale, but no one has been pushy when I have declined. The more perceptive reader will note the lack of abbreviations. This is because this arabic keyboard is quite a challenge ......... It is over twenty years since I have had the sensation of being so isolated from the people around me. I took a walk into town and went the wrong way. Away from the vaguely touristy parts and into the new town. Some aspects are very modern, but this is a relatively poor mountain area. I have seen people dressed as if they have stepped out of a bible story. There is...

Cadiz is Europe’s oldest city. Built by the Carthaginians it is a natural port, providing excellent access to north Africa and access to inland Spain through the Guadalquivir river. Its charm is derived from being both a port and ancient. This means it’s not at all fancy and has the most wonderful narrow streets. It has also been duffed up by the British quite a bit too. The old port is guarded by a castle, but that didn’t stop both the Earl of Essex and Francis Drake from popping by and firing off a fair few cannon rounds into the town. The port was the receiving point (along with Seville up river) for the immense wealth that came into Spain from the America’s. Somehow Steve and I roused ourselves in good time and were taking to the streets by 9.00 – paseo-ing (walking to you and I) we saw several fabulous dragon trees, ate choros (deep fried yummy dough) and climbed to the top of one of Cadiz’s 160 plus watch towers. These were built by merchants wanting to know what ship’s were sail...

Limited access to the internet and the distractions of travel mean these postings are rather sporadic – like the eponymous bus – none for ages then several come along at once. I’ll provide an over view of what’s happened since Wednesday in brief then if I’m inspired write some mini entries. When I last posted I was in the beautiful city of Granada, home to the Alhambra Palace and the Muslim rulers of Andalucía (and further afield). That was Wednesday, when I also drove to Malaga airport to pick up my good friend Stephen. Yesterday morning (Monday) I put him on the train just outside Seville. During our time together we’ve had two days camped outside Ronda, a night in a Hostal in Vejer (near Cadiz) near the Atlantic coast and two nights camping in Dos Hermanas (a suburb of Seville). Highlights have included; Flamenco in Seville, professional and amateur (we spent a couple of hours in a bar/olive oil emporium listening to several people sing and one girl dance), walking in the wonderf...