We went to Gibraltar as a day trip from Algeciras, our last stop in Europe. Gibraltar definitey didn't live up to expectations. A horrible blend of the worst of two cultures with a good dose of tacky tourism thrown in but interesting for a day visit none the less. We walked right round Gibraltar, saw our first glimpse of Africa across the Straits of Gibraltar and returned through the tunnels which have been used as fortifications during the many battles on the peninsula.

First thing we did in Morocco was to get horribly lost. We had planned to go to Rabat via Tanger but after taking a wrong turn and going twenty kilometres down the road toward Tetouan we thought what the hell and headed off into the famous Rif mountains on a 400km detour. Tetouan was as dodgey as expected, local growers tried to sell us their wares as they cruised beside our bicycles in their cars and some very seedy looking characters tried pretty hard to persuade us to follow them into the markets.

We thought there was a gunfight breaking out when we rolled into Chefchaouen on our second day in Africa. It turned out the locals were having a huge celebration and men dressed in flowing robes were dancing around in the crowd and firing old muskets into the ground. The local food here was great,Tagines were excellent and so was the incredibly sweet mint tea. Our cycling appetite were starting to develop so we had to call into the roadside stalls to bulk our meals up before returning to the hotel. We were lucky with our choice of restaraunt, the oven in another one close to ours burst into flames and the patrons had to run out onto the street.

There are a lot of tourists coming through this area and some of the locals kids are real pains in the arse as a result. They would ask for pens or money and when we didn't cough up out would come the stones. Unfortunately Jonny was usually in the lead and the kids were often waiting with stones by the time Danny passed the same spot. Dogs were also a problem. At one stage our intrepid duo were chased by a pack of dogs and Jonny's shoe got stuck in his SPD pedal. Luckily Danny could get between him and the dog before too much damage was done. Damage to his leg anyway, the damage to Jonny's pride came later that night when locals wanted to know why he only had one shoe .

We headed across the plains from Souk-el-Arba and reached Rabat. Here we stayed with Abderrahim and Marianne who looked after us and entertained us in style, did some dodgey dealings with crooked embassy staff to get our Mauritanian visa ( a taste of things to come), and took in the old city and Hassan Mosque.

Morocco is a huge country and we weren't keeping nearly the pace we'd expected so after a little help from Abderrahim getting the bikes on the train we hopped aboard and headed for Marrakesh and gave our weary legs a rest. The Moroccans were a friendly lot and chatted to us on the train, at one stage we shared a cabin two Moroccan women and something under a rug. The rug moved and turned out to be a tiny, very old, sick morocan lady. We think so anyway as we only really saw a wizened hand pop out and heard the occasional groan.. Jonny had been to Marrakesh a few years earlier and loved the place. It was cool especially the old town with winding narrow back streets. In the center of town was the Djemaa El Fna complete with snake charmers, story teller, street performer, foodstalls and hawkers. Danny got himself a fine looking belt to replace the tent string which had been keeping his trousers up. The vendor assured him it was genuine cobra skin. We also visited a palace which is slowly being restored. Storks lined the walls and made a distinctive clattering sound with their beaks.

Enough of the easy life, time for some serious cycling. We headed into the High Altas mountains intending to cross via the Tizi n Test (translates from Berber as cycle of Pain) Pass. It was great to be really out in the countryside biking and away from traffic. The scenery was great as we passed from the foothills with lots of fertile farmland, up into barren mountain passes with the occasional fortress on strategic points. We stayed with a local berber who started out helping us find good drinking water. He was building a hotel/hostel in the valley and let us stay in the unfinished building. He was a great source of local knowledge and told us all about berber history and culture as well as making an incredibly tasty meal with only meat,onions and oil. After some more hard cycling in the hot sun through spectacular High Atlas valleys we did a huge climb to the top of the Tizi'n'Test Pass. We had our first breakdown other than a flat on the trip but managed to put in a new spoke after removing the rear casette much to the amusement of the locals. A lone motorcyclist "Nick" cheered us on our way, little did we know how often he would pop up again both in Name and in Person for the rest of our trip. We camped the night at the top of the pass trying to stop our hands freezing as we cooked dinner under an incredibly starry sky. The next morning the tent was covered in ice, Jonny was near vomiting from cold and it was all downhill .... Yippee !!! Warmed up and feeling amped we flew down the southern side of the Atlas stopping only for the odd drink and to talk to a farmer who was concerned about vet bills as his goats kept falling out of trees .