We figured we would have plenty of time for the drive to Tanger via Rabat. Though on Sunday evening as we were double checking the route and our tickets for the ship, we first saw that Google maps gave an estimate of over 11 hours for the trip, also there were some small writing on the tickets about latest check-in being 4 hours before departure, departure was at 23:59.
We didn't believe Google, but still departed earlier than we had planned, just in case.
The first hour or so back on the bike riding was really enjoyable after so much time off it. I was all smiles and giving Jim the thumbs up and such as we sped away on the nice asphalt roads out of Essaouira. Only letting off the throttle when passing carts pulled by mules or horses so not to scare them.
Klara has a loud exhaust pipe, very loud. So loud in fact, that when I drive behind f.ex scooters/mopeds, the men driving them starts to lean down trying to listen what the hell kind of sound their engine just started to make, until they turn around and notice Klara growling like a B-17 bomber plane on take-off power. :)
Anyway, hand-signals are our only means of communication now, and has been since my intercom died somewhere in the Atlas mountains. It's too bad really, because it was one piece of technology you really want to have working all the way on such a trip. I don't know what killed it, probably Jim was tired of me singing him songs so he sabotaged it, the bast.
We were using it alot in the end, quizzing each other about French words. I credit the intercom with helping me learn how to count to 100 in French. We would be driving along some boring road and I would go: "HEY!" (to open the transmission) "Jim, what is 76?"
Still, we've done good without it and agreed on a few basic hand-signals. It also gives us lots of time in (relative) silence and lets the mind drift off in whatever direction it wants for hours on end. So for me that is akin to a Homer Simpson brain monologue: "..road...road...goats...more road...slow smoking car...waving children...must honk my funny-sounding horn(!)...smiles...happy....road...sheep...more road.."
After a quick stop in downtown Rabat at Jim's friend to pick up some equipment we stored there, we continued onto Tanger. We had made good time on the highways and figured we still had plenty of time. At aprox. 20km outside the city though the road split to two directions: "Tanger Port" and "Tanger Port Med.". I was not sure where to go, but Jim pointed to the med(iterrian?) one and I figured he had checked beforehand. "port med" was another 50km and further South of the city. It turned out to be the wrong port. It was a huge construction area where they were building what WILL be the correct one in the future. I guess their first priority was to put up directions for it and THEN start building it.
Anyway, after skidding on some wet mud on the road near the work site twice, nearly laying down the bike, and nearly twisting my ancle off underneath the low custom-mounted pannier when trying to stay upright at speed, we finally stopped to ask for directions. Turns out we were supposed to drive to the city port where we first arrived afterall. The man we asked said it was only 14km or so if we went off the highway onto a shortcut. We should have known better, because the distance was closer to 30 something and in heavy traffic. The clock was ticking, and the 4 hour before check-in deadline was only 20min or so away. We were overtaking as many cars as we could trying to get there in time. I was imagining worst-case scenarios with difficult port officials who were so eager to take our bribes or generally make life difficult for us when we first arrived.
We got there 12min after the deadline and got through allright enough. We were given orange "Genova" signs to put on the bikes, then one of the "officials" ran us through the "hurdles" we needed to get our papers in order. For the right price of course. After everything were signed and stamped we were allowed to line up with our bikes to load them onboard. There were alot of other "adventurers" there with us driving everything from motorbikes to huge off-road semi-trailers.
We drove onboard the Italian registered ship MN Excelsior about 2 hours after we got there. After strapping down our bikes and grabbing our stuff, we went upstairs, checked in and got our cabins.
The ship is nice enough. It seems like an older outdated cruise ship taken out of service and now used for these shorter ferry trips. It has 3 restaurants (1 open), a swimming pool (no water), a fitness room (closed) and even a casino, also closed.
There are mostly Moroccan passengers on-board and most of them bought tickets with no cabin included, since they are cheaper. Fair enough, but this being a 3-night voyage it means there are people camping and sleeping just about everywhere, making it look like a refugee ship of sorts.
We have sailed for a day and a half now, and arrived at the port of Barcelona this morning at 8:30. We will be staying here until 14:00 then depart for Italy and the port of Genova. We decided on going with this ferry option back when we were in Merzouga. We figured we had already done the long highway transit legs through Spain and France on the way down, and would rather get an extra day or two in Marocco instead of swatting 1437 flies and mosquitos with our heads riding at 120km/h on the boring highways for days again. Been there, done that and all..
The Excelsior is scheduled to arrive in Genova at 03:30 Thursday morning. We will be stopping by Milano or Luzern to buy me some long awaited sunglasses(!), then it is power on through as far North as we can get. Hopefully Hamburg by the same day.
It will be a hectic few days through Europe for sure, but until then we will be eating pasta and playing games here in the lounge at deck 7 "The Pacific".
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