Via Fes gu na beanntan sgeir agus oirthir na Meadhan-thìreach ... stadan mu dheireadh ann am Morocco

We skipped the Reef Mountains on the way out as the region is not recommended due to hemp cultivation and smuggling. After more than 7 weeks in Morocco we have the feeling that we are 'armed' for this and we would also like to see the Mediterranean coast of Morocco before we go back to Europe.

Since we haven't bought a single souvenir so far and would very much like to have a tagine pot to cook at home, we decide to go to Fes a second time.

When we were there for the first time after a few days in Morocco, it was around 30 degrees warm, it was Ramadan and we were still visibly overwhelmed 🤪.

Now there are pleasant 23 degrees, it is directly on the way and we at least know our way around.

We drive to our sleeping place from the first time, because we hope for a quieter night this time, since it's supposed to rain...the rain doesn't come, but the night is still a bit quieter than the first time.

We go to eat in the nearby medina and experience the city as much more pleasant and can enjoy it much more... it's really sad that we'll soon be leaving Morocco behind because we've really grown to love it.

The next morning we go quite successfully on the hunt for some nice souvenirs and then head north.

Since you shouldn't be out and about in the Riffgebirge in the evenings and you shouldn't camp wild either, we drive to a small campsite, which quickly fills up with 4 cars.

There we meet a young German couple who have just driven through the Riff Mountains from the ferry and who were 'offered' the hash so vehemently that they were even stopped by the car once.

Another, older couple there hasn't experienced anything of the sort, and since we're of a similar age, we're just assuming that we're not so much the classic target group and we'll be left alone - which is what they are - except for umpteen offers from the side of the road off - the next day is the case.

There are still a few permanent tents on the campsite and that evening there is a group of Moroccan women who are celebrating with a live combo and integrating us nicely or Mia - whether she likes it or not - has to dance with us.

Unfortunately, because of the music, we sleep a little later and then we have mosquitoes, but the next morning we continue through the reef mountains.

A dream landscape, the hemp grows there on the side of the road, but many 'crazy' guys on the side of the road and the garbage is really crass.

We probably could have 'shopped' around 100 times on our route - as the clear hand signals showed, but otherwise we arrive well at the coast.

There have been severe storms here in the last week and the damage is unmistakable... broken paths, stones and rocks on the road... a slope that we wanted to drive has completely disappeared over 4m.

Campsites are few and far between up here and poorly rated, so we drive the otherwise beautiful coastal road to El Jheba, where you can probably stand on top of the cliffs, near the marina.

We drive up a steep slope there and ask the navy again if we can stay here, which they immediately say yes to.

Later, another Swiss couple with a cabin comes and we cook and eat up there, when suddenly at around 9:15 p.m. the military knocks and tells us that it is forbidden to spend the night here.

I explain that I specifically asked, but they remain quite stoic. I then ask for an exception for one night, since it's stupid to move so late with a child.

At that moment, a young Moroccan couple comes by who really want to take a picture with Mia and the soldiers ask us about our nationality and our passports.

Later we both have the impression that their facial expressions brightened up a lot when they said 'aleman' (because they asked grumpily whether we were French or English) and when I asked them again to please leave us here for the night, they accepted take our passports with us and grab the radio... when they take a photo of our passports and the car, we have a good feeling that we can stay - even with a child bonus - and that's how it is. We say thank you in Moroccan and they leave.

After a quiet night, we hike down the next morning into the great bay, which we have all to ourselves except for two locals, and swim in the clear water.

Since the accommodation situation for the rest of the coast doesn't look that great either and we find the garbage really difficult up here, we spontaneously decide to take the ferry to Spain for the next day.

Ceuta, as a Spanish enclave, is also only 1 1/2 hours away and since immigration and customs sometimes take over 2 hours there, we want to do it this evening and then tomorrow at noon relaxed on the ferry, which will take us in just 1 hour to Algeciras and mainland Europe.

We then drive along the coast, Basti eats freshly grilled fish again, Mia and I buy more fruit and vegetables in the souk and we drink our last obligatory, freshly squeezed orange juice on Moroccan soil.

It's somehow surreal to leave here after almost 8 weeks.

Our conclusion about Morocco: a country that is definitely worth seeing, with great, varied landscapes, many warm-hearted people - an adventure that, from our very personal point of view, cannot simply be 'having breakfast' in 10 or 14 days and for which it is worth taking the time invest, even if (or precisely because) poverty, waste and inequality are always very thought-provoking.

We arrive in Ceuta; the various border controls are really ultra-precise with a dog and everything Zipp and Zapp, so that you don't take smuggled goods or refugees with you.

But after 40 minutes everything is done and we suddenly drive through sparkling clean Spanish Ceuta - with crazy police and military presence, women in bikinis on the beach promenades, Lidl and other chains... we get a little culture shock and drive to a nice place to stay and go to bed early - also because Basti has been really unfit since this afternoon and is hatching something (since he endured that I drove the last piece, he really didn't feel well 🤣).

The next day, Basti is still quite saggy and so we drive to the well-kept city beach of Ceuta, so that Mia and I are on and in the water and he can recover a bit in the cabin.

At noon we go on the small fast ferry that runs here three times a day and an hour later we are in Algeciras.

From there we only drive an hour to Tarifa and are amazed at the number of campers here...crazy.

The beach or the beaches are fantastic, but the accommodation options are much more difficult than in Morocco.

We are standing on a beautiful beach where, in the morning, the Guardia Civil probably distributed tickets for the campers who stayed overnight despite the camping ban. Since the season really starts here on June 1st, it probably won't get any easier.

Since we don't feel like such stress, we drive to an official parking space, somewhere in the mountains, which is well maintained and also offers all supply and disposal options - a good compromise for the night and since we were there very unexpectedly and spontaneously to meet up with Martín and Christine (we were traveling with them in Morocco for a while and they happen to be in the corner here), it will be a nice evening.

The next morning we are woken up at 07:45 by 2-stroke sound without silencers (lawn trimmers) working the area around us...Shit happens.

We say goodbye to Martin and Christine, who have to go on, and first we go shopping - especially to the Lidl, because they have really good bread and delicious dark rolls here... wonderful 🤩 and then to the great kite beach.

Basti is a bit fitter and feels like he's on the water with over 100 kiters, while I'm lying on the beach with Mia and can't believe it in between lying here with various topless girls, while the women walk around 20km as the crow flies, fully veiled and if at all only go into the water in full gear...crazy.