It’s (not) grim up north – but down south....

We left Santander yesterday, Monday, an hour late due to some kind of "technical problem”, but with so few cars on board we were away from the port pretty quickly. Temperature 16 degrees so looking forward to getting a pleasant trip south.

Pretty soon it was raining. In fact as I write this on Tuesday at the overnight stop near Merida, it hasn’t stopped raining yet. No that’s not true – it has snowed. Quite a bit. In fact the weather has been, shall we say, contrary to expectations. 

I was educated to think that the further towards the Equator one got, the warmer it became. The Lower the Latitude, The Higher the Heat. Except in Spain, obviously. Since we’ve had 180 degrees on the compass since we left Plymouth – give or take a bit to allow us to avoid France, which is always a Good Thing – the Centigrades ought to be in the ascendant.Today we haven’t seen temperatures above single figures and quite often close to zero. OK, we were up at over 1000 metres of altitude at the time but it’s after Easter FFS! When does it get Spring in this country? This is the first trip where we’ve actively sought a nightstop with an elevation of less than 500 metres so we wouldn’t have to sleep with all our clothes on. We left Plymouth in summer temperatures – folk wandering about the Hoe in T-shirts and shorts and Mike even bought himself a very expensive pair of sunglasses as a treat. They cost over £13. As he says, a major expense given that he’ll probably sit on them within a day or so. As it happens, they haven’t been on his face yet….

So, the trip so far, other than wet and cold, is notable for the absence of any major vehicle problems. The work done on the wheel balance, transmission, prop shafts etc has really paid off with a silky-smooth drive.
Other things haven't always been so smooth, though. The Navigator and the Driver have have a number of harsh exchanges. One of especial note came outside Merida in the driving rain, when we missed an important motorway exit. This particular junction went left from the main road rather than the usual right. With the driver committed to the left turn and the barrier 20 metres ahead, a shout of "no, go right, go right" had us reversing direction and nearly broadsiding some innocent Spaniard who'd taken the chance of overtaking on the inside. After a crisis meeting we decided that navigation decisions would now be more equally distributed.

We’ve covered over 450 miles of the Spanish leg with no other problems other than a wet right foot for the driver – and the aforementioned wet legs, of course. The spray, lots of it, is blowing in under the front of the door. Mike’s trainers are now back in the box and the waterproof mountain boots are back on; after all, it is Spain in the Spring….I guess the fields are big and green in drier times, but right now they’re a lot smaller because they’re full of large brown ponds and what look like substantial streams, not to say raging rivers where farm tracks used to be. Last night’s site at Tordesillas became waterlogged this morning and tonight’s choice is equally affected. Of the several hundred pitches that might usually be available, the “residents” have all gathered on the only relatively dry island next to the loos. Not a location we’d normally favour, but Needs Must… 

It looks like a storm’s blowing in tonight. It has stopped p*ssing down at last, and there is the hint of sunshine which is all we really need to make camping enjoyable and not something to be endured as a Means to an End. I might get the shovel out in a minute to divert some of the water that is about to invade us, but other than that, the day’s over apart from Food. Sue’s busy in the back preparing the Usual Gourmet Extravaganza and I’ve a rather attractive looking Rioja to crack…Salut!

...and then, about 6 days after I wrote all that, we've travelled a total of 2000 miles and are having a bit of a Rest Day in Midelt. It stopped raining yesterday. Honestly, this is the worst weather we've experienced in Europe and Morocco in the 3 trips we've done. We haven't had any major dramas caused by the foul conditions but it has made driving quite difficult at times, especially crossing the Rif. We saw 2 major accidents - cars rolled over - within a few minutes of each other as we climbed towards Chefchaouen, with the roads running with water like streams and the streams running like an Olympic White Water course, only brown and much angrier. Like Spain, the whole place appears waterlogged.

 As usual, snapshots taken from the car don't do justice to the scene, but there was no chance that we were going to get out to do a better job. Staying dry and warm is a greater priority.

We had a pretty hard time actually getting into Morocco this time, too. While it usually takes a while for the customs folk to do The Necessary, this time we were delayed for over 2 hours. That's on top of a delay with the ferry. It left 90 minutes late and took over 2 1/2 hours for the normal 55 minute trip as the weather was so bad. Mike watched as the ferry took an hour to get far enough upwind of the harbour before the captain could risk the "ferry glide" into port at Tangier Med. They'd even called in another tug which came racing up through the swell and the spray to help us in. Sue watched the wall and tried to think of flatter things.

Arrival at Tangier Med

At the customs post, all was chaos. We stood patiently waiting under the sunshades, which are about as much use as a toast rack for keeping the rain off - and it was bucketing down. All and sundry were much taken with Elly...and not in a good way. For the first time, we experienced a "going over". Everything out of the back and opened, "do you have maps?", "do you have pistol?", "do you have Talkie-Walkie?", "why/where/when are you going, who with?", "what are these books?". That's just a small sample of the quizzing, all conducted in the slashing rain with me trying to explain in halting French and smile a lot, even though everything was getting soaked. They even summoned the Chief - a guy welcomed with much saluting and handshaking - who asked all the same questions again. Not unpleasantly, I must say, but probing and very inquisitive. 

I'd better not say too much about the vehicle inspection but it seemed to be more about a display of power by one particular individual who wouldn't make eye contact but just shouted a lot at the rest and sneered at me. I got the impression that his colleagues were all a bit embarrassed by the whole charade and they did their best to help me keep things dry and repack when I could. Despite having covered Elly with typical "4x4 enthusiast" stickers and hidden everything vaguely "military", they still seemed to think we had some kind of hidden agenda, and the careful examination of Mike's passport seemed to be the reason. Lots of short-visit visas for a country they seemed to be a bit suspicious of, and one very recent. What was I doing there? What is my profession? Why do you....etc etc? Luckily they didn't find the toolbox...I shudder to think what might've happened if they'd read the old lettering on the side..."400 cartridges 7.62 ball link". I seem to recall that another - better known - expeditioner had a similar problem with a military-looking Landrover and ended up having to paint it pink before they'd let him in. Wonder if they knew what a "Pink Panther" is/was?

Once away we were now running about 4 hours late on the plan so made for a campsite we'd used before at Martil. We arrived just as it was getting twilight so avoided having to negotiate the town in complete darkness. This at least allowed us to get through the foot-deep flooding without driving into a storm drain or some other submerged tank trap. For once, the snorkel was probably worth fitting.

Our original plan was to work our way along the Med coast but having got fed up with the weather we decided the only course was South, and the quicker we got there the better. A number of equally wet and cold days were to follow, but yesterday dawned with a clear blue sky, which we predicted when the overnight temperature dropped to close to freezing. The day's journey was interesting, not to say unusual, for North Africa in mid-April:

 To be fair, these shots were taken at over 2000 metres of altitude, but still a bit unexpected for so late in the year. The locals obviously thought so too and they were out in force with toboggans! Never thought I'd see that here.



 Once off the hills we began to see more of what we remember Morocco to be like, on the road, at least...

...with our first Interceptors...

...and at the campsite, the usual suspects...

I think that'll be enough for now. There's maintenance to be done - the spout has broken off the tap and while it can still produce a sparkling fountain, it ain't much good for filling the kettle any more. 

Some surgery to the broken bits will restore normal service. Hopefully.
Finally, this edition of O-T4 is brought to you courtesy of Maroc Telecom and the 4G dongle and SIM card we bought this morning. That and the proximity of the transmitter mast to where I'm sitting. 

It's generously decorated with wildlife - huge storks and their young - who don't seem at all bothered by the microwaves bouncing off their heads.

The next event will be the crossing of the High Atlas, via some dirt track that should provide a bit of a challenge if there's still some snow about.