• MBSki
• Bed and Breakfast
• Directions
• Chamonix
• Gallery

• Back to the B&B
• Leaving Chamonix
• Xmas in UK
• Leaving again
• Bad start for Pepper
• Pepper survives
• Into Spain
• Into Morocco
• Heading south
• Getting warmer
• Jan 17th, Essaouira
• Jan 18th
• The French and their Campers
• Bikers, Birthdays and cats
• The acceptable side of French campers
• Another round then off to Imsouane
• Emergency!
• Surfing
• 'erberts

Jan 15th, El Jadida, 120 kms south of Casablanca

I liked El Jadid so I decided to stay for at least another day. And of course the finer weather makes a place infinitely more appealing. After an hour or so run up the beach I decided to treat myself and play golf. It's a great course, quite tricky and very long compared to Chamonix. The price is very reasonable compared to European prices but expensive for Morocco. Like I said, it was a treat. You are obliged to take a caddy which costs extra but as I found out, is worth it. My caddy spoke a bit of French, he was good with phrases like "Oh well, play a provisional", and "Are you as fond of sand back where you live or is it just in Morocco?". Or his favourite, "how many balls do you have left?"

He was good value though. It was my first time playing with a caddy and I thought he wouldn't be able to tell me anything I wouldn't work out myself. How wrong I was. He took a few holes to work out how far I hit each club and then knew exactly what I should take. One hole I asked for my driver. He handed me a 5 iron. I said there was no way I'd hit the green with a 5. "Trust me he said, hit the 5". I hit the 5 and my ball landed on the green, a bit long if anything. I couldn't believe it.

I have met many people on the trip so far. They generally fall into 2 groups. The first and biggest group are the proper camping car enthusiasts. They are generally French but there are quite a few English too. They are generally in what one might described as "the autumn of their years", and normally fairly monied - the vans they drive cost from about 30,000€ up to anything like 70,000€. At the other end of the scale there are the people I have previously referred to as "soap dodgers". They are not monied, their vans cost under 1000€, their clothes look like they might have been washed up on one of the beaches they are parked up next to, they are frequently seen at breakfast time with a beer in one hand and a joint in the other and they look like it's been a while since they washed. This group I have seen far fewer of. I think they might know something the rest of us don't, like where they can sleep, eat and drink for next to nothing.

So where does this leave me? I seem to occupy this camper's no man's land between the 2 extremes. My van is nearer 1000€ than 50,000€, but I do wash. I am not in my sixties, nor am I monied, but my dog does have lead and not a piece of string. I can't afford to eat in nice restaurants every night with the crumblies but I do eat well and I can turn myself out in some fairly neat threads from time to time. I feel I can't really identify with either group but if I had to spend my time with one, it would be the oldies every time. I don't get caught up too much in discussions on the technical aspects of vehicles but if you know me, you'll know that I am often very tempted. Nor do spend 45 minutes parking up, reversing backward and forwards numerous times, chocking up each wheel so my spirit level is spot on. I enjoy the odd chat with a "dodger" too though. But when the joints are offered up at 10am I politely decline and so as not to lose face I confess to having just put one out and that I never break my "no more than 1 spliff before breakfast rule".

I left El Jadid this morning, as did Dave and Di. They made it all the way to Essaouira and dropped me a text to say it was ace. I only made it to Oualidia (where I write this from) which is about a third of the way to Essaouira. The small town is unique as it is seperated from the sea by a land mass which forms a lagoon the size of which depends on the tides. The tide was in when I arrived so the lagoon was huge but the tide is ebbing now and sand flats are appearing in the middle of it. I'll stay here tonight and maybe move on to Essaouira tomorrow. If I don't fancy going all the way, I shall stop over in Safi tomorrow.

I do need to stop at a campsite soon though as I need to fill up with fresh water, but more pressingly, I need to do that special job that fills me with such mixed emotions - empty the loo. It is with fascination and disgust in equal measure that I carry out this unavoidable task. If you imagine yourself taking a dump, wiping your derrière and then just before you flush, you take a quick look and judge your stool on it's various merits. One finds it both fascinating but at the same time appalling. Multiply that by 7, or 10, or well, imagine a weeks worth of bodily waste that's had time to ferment leaving what is not much more than a jerry can in front of you very eyes. It is, belive me an odd experience. Memories of enjoyed meals come flooding back. I must be using the wrong chemicals or the right ones in the wrong way because this little weekly treat so disgusts me, I come close to passing out when the time comes to do it. In fact I have this fear that one day I'll wake up in casualty caked in my own urine and faeces to be told by a doctor standing a good arms length away that "there's nothing to worry about Mr Hennem, you just seem to have fainted whilst pouring away a tank of your own shit - a quick jet wash and you'll be as right as rain. That patagonia fleece is probably not worth keeping though".