After a good night's sleep, it's time for a trip around Ceuta so we can see a bit of the city.
Provisions must also be made, but luckily we can see on the map that there is a Lidl only a short distance from the car park. When we get there, it is impossible to find a parking space, so we drive around a bit.
Suddenly we stop at the border control.
Hm... that's not quite the plan, but now we might as well continue, it's probably also possible to buy food in Morocco.
There is quite a bit of chaos and a long queue at the border crossing, but an official-looking man comes over to us and asks if he should help us get through and get the papers filled out correctly. We accept that. His help costs 10 euros, but we thought that was ok, considering the chaos. And then Johnny is otherwise dragged from one window to the next and the papers got fine stamps. And voila, we're over the border and in Morocco.
Afterwards we wondered if we had just bribed a man to get us through the border quickly. But you probably shouldn't think about that any further.
Full of excitement, the course is set to the southeast, as we want to go out and see some desert. In Morocco there are many valleys, so it goes up and down quite a bit. The most impressive thing though is to see the way they load their trucks, that it doesn't go wrong, is impressive.
Carpooling is also very common.
When we get through a small town, we find a homemade sign with "camping".
We have to try that. We drive into the house and out comes an elderly gentleman who shows us the way down to the lawn, where he also has a fig plantation.
We are welcome to park along the trees and next to the cow. It will probably be locked up for the night.
We are presented with a primitive shower and a squat toilet... It takes a certain technique to step off on behalf of nature - not here you sit and solve puzzles.
Since we are left to ourselves, we get to cook some food and enjoy a warm evening.
The sun is setting and it is quickly getting very dark. Full of energy, we will try to make some funny pictures. Johnny must be a ghost in the fig forest. So with the help of a little photo technical stuff, we get started.
The family that owns the house comes out on their terrace and clearly thinks "what on earth are they doing". But we have fun. What we can't see in the dark are all the trampled figs that we get stepped on in our shoes, they can't just be removed again.
Before we left for Morocco, we were warned not to drive into the area where they grow Hemp. There have been incidents where tourists have strayed there and met some not-so-hospitable people. So it's best to stay away from there.
After we had been driving for a few days, we thought it smelled a bit special, and when we look more closely at what is growing in the fields, we can see that it is not potatoes. Oops. They are hemp plants, after all. Um, it's probably not so good to drive here.
We roll on through small villages on dirt roads, and we were stared at a lot. This is probably not where we should stop and ask about the local attractions.
Even though the temperature is high, people still struggle through in the small towns. The construction workers stand outside in the sun mixing mortar in the scorching heat.
The women work in the green areas and the children go to school.
In some cities there are well-stocked supermarkets and in other cities there are small stalls along the road. It is a very mixed culture.
The course is set for Figuig, now we want to go out and see the sand. First, the Atlas Mountains and the beautiful date groves must be passed. They offer an adventurous, beautiful drive in fantastic scenery, with an overnight stay at a local Kasbah.
However, Figuig turns out to be a border town and not where the big sand dunes are. We have to go about 200 km further south. But it is quite cozy now. With date palms and traditional construction.
We were only slightly wrong. We were going to Merzouga and not Figuig.
But when you're on a trip, you probably don't really get lost. The trip just gets a few more experiences.