The ferry was cheap (around 50€ with a bike two way) and I bought an open return ticket at the same time at the youth hostel in Algeciras. Bought some food (never know if they had food I could eat in Africa) before i borded at noon. The trip over took around 1 hour including getting on an off. Finally I was in Africa, well still in Spain but it still felt like African ground. Getting out of the enclave Ceuta wasnt that hard (ok, I happend to take the only wrong road there is for a few minutes) and I found a gas station and the Spanish customs, passed them and into Maroccan bureaucracy (bureaucrazy more like it), a line of windows and small offices that you had to go through. Felt a little like the old Monkey Island games I played when younger. Ofcourse there was this very nice "tourist guide" to come to my aid. I told him he wouldnt get any money from me and he soon left. Once through I headed inland with no direct plan where to stay for the night. My front tire was a little bit off center so i stopped at a gas station to get it fixed with some grease and my tire levers. Talked to some guys at the station and I asked if they could recommend a cheap hotel nearby and I got directions to Tetuan. The night was comming and I the hotel was alot more expensive than I thought. Took a little stroll around the town centre and went to bed early.    Using the time difference from Spain I could leave the hotel around 07.00 in the morning. In Spain I had read about some camping sites, one in Salé outside Rabat, one in Casablanca and the other about 15 km north of Marrakesh. Started by heading for Salé, and also started to learn a little about Maroccan respect for motorbikers. Meeting busses driving in the wrong lane, people not using the lights when turning and so on. In Rabat I couldnt find the camping so ate some by the road and went for Casa. Arrived in midday and the traffic was terrible so I didnt even bother to ride into the mayhem. So I continued my day of driving towards Marrakesh with a rittersport chocolate for lunch. The sun was setting and just as the dark swept over the country I found the camping! Exhausted and a bit shaken from the traffic I went in and put my tent up. Met the greatest people on that camping! Life was good..    On the camping leaving the next day was a huge truck filled with 26 Brits aiming to cross Africa in seven months, the rest of us there were thinking of how many would kill eachother after a few months cramped up in there. Almost every day I shared a taxi from the camping into Marrakesh with my neighbors Hans, Miguel and Christine. Always nice to go on a shopping frenzy in the medina.    Did some trips with my bike unloaded and got the mandatory camel picture just outside Marrakesh. They have really nice and cheap food around the big square in the center too. Half a chicken with frites did go for about 20-25 Dh. Just make sure of what you order and what they put on the table before you. If not paying notice you will all of a sudden have consumed food worth houndreds of Dirhams, well almost..    About four days of looking around Marrakesh, writing postcards and things like that I went towards Essaouira in company of Hans, Miguel and Christine. The pay for the camping was 35 Dh a night. Good and clean and located about 15 km north of Marrakesh on the road towards Casablanca in case you want to stay there. We went to a small surfer beach next to a fishing village, Sidi Kauki. A french guy and his friends were taking care of it and the price was good, 25 Dh (10 Dh a person, 5 Dh for a tent and 10 Dh for a vehicle). We made small bonfires to warm up against when the sun set. Miguel and Christine were gathering some of the other guests at the camping with the playing of their drums and spinning with fire on a pair of chains. Nights were really cosy. I also got great use of the berber made blanket I had bought over in Marrakesh. In the daytime I spent most time reading books, walking around in Essaouira and taking small excursions with my bike unloaded. Essaouira was a really nice little town with a long beach and a small and relaxing medina to wander around in.    In the mornings around nine a clock the next door baker came by on his donkey. He had two sorts of bread for sale. The classical round Moroccan bread and oval buns filled with chocolate, selling for 1 Dh and 2 Dh. He usually also came back around eleven on his way back so the ones who wanted to sleep in had a chance to eat warm newly baked for breakfast too. The water for washing and showering came from a well located in the camping area. The camping area was just a marked line of rubble and rocks but worked with the company of Blanc blanc, Africa and three more dogs.    After some adventures on the beach of Sidi Kauki our little group packed up and left for the south. The plan was to go to a camping at a small place called Tifnit, about 45 km south of Agadir. The road along the atlantic coast was amazing to drive. Small curvy roads along the Atlas mountains and with the spectacular view of the ocean on the other side. Lots of small surfing communities along the way. Right before nightfall we passed Agadir and started looking for Tifnit. Askin on a roadside café we found out the camping was in a small place named Sidi Rbat. We found the exit and headed for 8 km of rocky and sandy trail until we in the complete darkr finally reached Sidi Rbat. Comming into the small village we soon had a crowd of curious people around us. They told us the camping had been shut down years ago and the only thing left was a newly built hotel with a rate of 150 € a night, a little out of our budget. Just to make sure i took a ride to the beach to see but it was like the villagers told us. In the meantime the rest were told to talk to Omar who had a big yard we could use if we wanted to camp. We took their advice and got to stay with Omar and his friends.    A few crazy days with Hans supply of beer and vodka made Omar and his friends a little eager for us to stay there and share everything with them. The local villager could only dream of getting into Agadir and then into the big Marjan supermarket to buy alcohol. So a cloudy morning Hans got fed up and took his WV van and left... Leaving Christine and Miguel as they were still in their tent when he left. They could only hope he came back. I stayed with them and we went to the beach for a couple of hours. Got back to Omars place where he and his best friend were sleeping last nights beer out of their heads. His beautiful but very silent wife making lunch, cleaning up the place and taking care of their three year old son. Muslim marriage rules I guess. After lunch Hans came speeding in and said he found a nice place in Agadir to camp so they packed up in a hurry. I put some of my stuff in the van because I figured I didn´t wanna stay alone in Sidi Rbat and we all got along really good. Off we left as the clouds gathered in the sky. After about 20km of the total 50 to Agadir the sky opened up and poured out masses of rain. The van speeded off in the crazy traffic as I remembered I had put the bag with my rain clothes in the back of the van. When we reached the camping in the middle of the city I was soaking down to my underware. Struggling to get our tents up in the heavy rain I found a nice little overhang from a shop on the area. The night before I had experienced that my tent was not all together waterproof in very heavy winds and rain (though it was cheap and light and good for packing on the bike). The rain kept going on and off for three more days.    The time it wasn´t raining I spent with my german neighbors Kristin, Mark and Bodo. Bodo had found a pig butcher in a small street in Agadir so I offered him a ride to buy some meat for the grill. I also went around the city and found a really nice little bike shop and garage for big bikes there. Bought a liter of demi synthetic 15W40 Ipone oil to top my motor up with too. I also thought it would be a good idea to have a couple of photocopies of my passport and other documents. The moroccan guy in the copy shop said "Ah Swedish, var det bra såhär med kopiorna?" when he saw my passport. In the tourist office in Agadir the lady could only speak French or Arabic... The rest of the camping was mostly filled with nice (exept for the ones wanting Miguel and Christines tent spot, messing about in the mornings until Migule told he would cut their furry mini dog to peices if they didnt stop) old Italians and French people, living in their luxury mobile homes with pet poodles.    Agadir felt a little like a modern spanish town since it had been completly trashed in an earthquake back in the 60s and rubuilt into a modern city. Walking the long beach in the fresh morning really was a treat and it's a good spot to fix things on a long trip like this. The temperatures daytime were about +20 - 25c (30/11 - 4/12). But as soon as the rain stopped I got restless and eager to find some dunes down south. I went back to the motorcycle store where I had bought the oil and got a pair of Acerbis barkbusters handlebar protector fitted, figured it would be a sweet deal to have just in case I would tip over somewhere. Went back to the camping and said bye to Christine and Miguel who just had gotten their Marrakesh bought goat skins dried up since the rain and also had made a good deal on a nice green blanket. Then I said bye to Bodo and Kristine, Mark was sleeping.    Packed the rest of my stuff. All was prefectly dry and nice! The road from Agadir south towards Tiznit was lovely riding over the Atlas. Great scenery and curvy roads.		Read about my bike by clicking 'tech' in the menu.