Marrakech got a bit tedious after a while, as most cities do, and it wasn't until the Monday afternoon that we found out no parts for a Volkswagen Caravelle could be obtained in Morocco. The RACE would tow the truck back to Spain and fly, rather worse for wear, Karen and Jose back the following day. Not wishing to return to Spain yet Marcel and I decided to hitch up with Loren and Marta who we had met up with again in Marrakech. We purchased tickets for Essaouira and boarded a rather old looking bus for the coast. That evening we arrived at the campsite and set up for the night. It felt much better to be away from the cities again and back in the tent and round a fire.

The following morning the sun was strong and we headed down to the beach for a stroll. We crossed the entrance to a lagoon by taking our shoes off, rolling our trousers right up and waiting for the waves to subside. An Eleonora's falcon swept overhead as we waded through waist deep water. On the other side were the remains of a castle, sinking into the sand due to the constant erosion of the Atlantic waves that perpetually bashed into it (perhaps the inspiration to Hendrix's 'Castles Made of Sand'?). Feeling brave Marcel and I stripped down to our underpants and dived into the cold, invigorating sea which soon had the heart racing, the body tingling and the mind alert. We spent the best part of the morning messing around on the beach and headed back to the campsite where we lounged around for the afternoon and got ready to go into town for New Year's celebrations. We strolled around the busy evening streets of Essaouira and saw the most incredible sunset of the journey, silhouetted harbour fortifications scattered with infinite numbers of gulls feeding on the remains of the fish from the fishing boats, bright oranges and reds all around us.

We celebrated the New Year with a feast of seafood cooked on an open barbeque on the harbour walls, red snapper, dorado, moray eel, prawns, langoustines, fresh salad and even white wine served in a Seven Up bottle for obvious reasons. The well-being of a full stomach soon led us back to the campfire and we smoked a little more than usual and got out the bottle of whisky we had been saving and not long after midnight we were asleep and that was New Year's Eve.

The following morning we caught a petite taxi a few kilometres down the coast and camped in a peaceful spot with views of the sweeping coast and vast waves breaking on sand bars far off the coast, another fire for the evening, lots of smoking and gentle thoughts.

The next day was really the end of the trip. We had to head north again so I could catch a plane in Malaga on the 4th back to Dublin. We considered hiring a Grand Taxi (Mercedes that are allowed to carry up to six passengers, two in the front and four in the back) back to Marrakech but after loading one up and negotiating the price, only to find the sod wanted more as soon as all the gear was in, we left in a huff for the bus station. Back in Marrakech we bought tickets for the overnight train to Tangier and seeing as the couchettes comprised of four beds we got a compartment to ourselves and smoked our way through the night. After a pleasant night being rocked from side to side and the soft lullaby of the wheels on the track we arrived in Tangier just before sunrise. Here Marcel and I had to say goodbye to Loren and Marta. They were heading back to the Rif Mountains, to Abdul's house to load themselves up and aid the local economy and theirs. Marcel and I arrived in Algeciras mid morning after seeing dolphins and whales in the Strait and were warmly welcomed back to Spain by Don Paco, sitting regally on a bronze chair, his guitar poised, ready.

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Important

The purchase and consumption of hashish is illegal in Morocco and the police will not hesitate to prosecute, or fleece you of every penny you are carrying. Very often the dealers are in cohoots with the police and you could find yourself the victim of a very expensive scam before you know it. If in any doubt do not succumb to the endless offers in the Riff Mountains or other parts of the country. However, if you cannot resist the temptation be sensible, use your own judgement and don't smoke in public even if the locals do. Andy