Crossing a border to Africa!

Soundtrack: Fastball – The Way

Leaving Palma del Rio, Spain for the second time, was a thing I just had to, people were starting not to believe in me. And I also had to get on going, I was getting restless. The travel fever had strucked me once again. I admit it hurt deep in my heart saying goodbye to friends and family. 12SEP2009 I ventured out on the road again, this time accompanied by José Manuel García Caro (BATMAN). We said farewell to the girls, Maria Luisa and Beatriz. They were standing waving us goodbye in PDR.
Until now I have had the best time in PDR, Spain, cause of the friends and family. All the things I have experienced while spending 38 days in the small city is incredible. Trips to Malaga, Nerja for the beach, wild camping with Beatriz, evenings in the city, Luis place, visiting Belen and José,  including living in the house during their vacation (I should not say that I made a nice attempt on flooding it, dooh), helicopter flight at Beatriz work FAASA, Feria, lots of cerveza and finally visiting CAPI where José works. I can say that for the month I stayed there, I haven’t been bored one single time, instead it felt like being with you own family back home.
José had a wish of spending a day with me, and follow me to Puentes de Europa (Gibraltar), probably to make sure I was leaving his country for good and not come back again ;oP – It was something he had looked forward to for a long time, getting a little taste of what it feels like doing an overland journey, see how it is to travel on a motorcycle and not to forget camp out in the nature. In another word, see the world from the saddle and be independent. I think he enjoyed it very well. We had food, beers and Brugal with us, which the girls had supplied us with. We managed to find a nice field to camp for the night. That evening and night will be printed in my mind forever. We got a chance of being alone, have a good talk, and lots of Brugal.
On the way to Randa we ran into the Guardia Trafico on two BMW’s. We stopped and had a chat with them.  Not a normal thing to do. You normally try to avoid them as much as possible. We asked them for the direction of the Ascari race circuit near by. They agreed to follow us there, and I can tell it was not in a normal pace, we did it with the crazy speed of 120 – 140 km/ hour on the national road, accompanied by the police, awesome. People are normally affraid to get stopped by them.
Next day we set off for Gibraltar, ohh first we were heading to Algeciras due to my capabilities of finding the way. Even back home I could get lost in a phone box, and I bet José now agrees with me!
Upon arrival to Gibraltar it was time to have a farewell beer. Not long after we park the bikes and headed for the bar, a guy asked me in my own language if I was Danish? The world is small. The dudes name was Eric, originally from Belgium, but had been living in Denmark for half a year. Now he was situated and working in Spain. I was amazed of stumbling into him. It was three months since I had a proper conversation in Danish. It was already difficult for me to pick the Danish words, which actually scares you a bit, but in the end it turned out as a good conversation.
I finally said farewell to José after arriving at the end of Gibralter at the light tower, with the view of Africa in the horizon. It was hard not to shed a tear or two. I watched José  drive down the road and leave when he reached the main road. I was alone again, after a long time with people around me. It felt strange, very strange!  There in front of me was the new continent, waiting for me. I was a little bit scared, I admit!
I stayed at the water front a couple of hours togather my thought and went through the last month in Spain. I couldn’t help crying.
I pulled myself together and drove  up to the monkey’s, after a hard try finding the place. I had to see them, now I was on Gibraltar. I parked the bike and bought a ticket to go around the area on “The Upper Rock”. No monkeys, where were they? I was to find out after visiting the St. Michael’s Cave! One of the fuckers was trying to rip my bike, stealing a one litre soda bottle with engine oil, which I had strapped on the side of the bike. And another monkey stole my last pineapple juice when I left it without my attention! They were like terrorist.
I spend the last of the day driving around  Gibraltar,in search of a place to camp for the night.
I have to say thanks again to Mac D, for always welcoming me to lend their facilities upon arrival and when leaving.
After a couple of hours I discovered a nice place to camp on the way up to “The Upper Rock”. It didn’t have too much condoms lying around in the area. Instead it had a perfect view of the strait and the ships lying at anchor. I settled down for the night!

That evening I didn’t sleep well, my mind was constantly thinking of what was on the other site of the strait. Quit bizarre when thinking of my situation. I wanted to go there for pleasure. On the other side of the dark water, i knew people (immigrants) was desperate to head for Europe to get a better life. Here I was, going there to live out the biggest dream in my life. I had all choices in life, all possibilities.
I finally decided to stop thinking about what could happen to me, and instead go there with a positive mind. I felt asleep…
Next day I picked my way to the ferry, but before leaving Gibraltar I ran into another Dane on a scooter, saluting me and wishing me a good trip.
On my way I stopped on the highway and bought the ticket for the ferry. 64.50 Euros for a one way, no return. One of my task’s was to inspect the toilets on board the ferry to see how dirty it was? A guy back home (Torsten Malm) said to me it was too dirty for his ass to take a dump, so I took a dump at Mac D before leaving Gibraltar. I was amased, the ferry was as back home, or even more clean. The people securing my bike was very friendly too. I asked them if it was okay to leave my things on the car deck. No problem! So I left the Nikon D80 in the tank bag…
Arriving at Ceuta is not more different than Algeciras to start with. Though I got myself a bit of a surprise when I was I witness to a car accident. Three cars in a row ran into each other, when the first car stopped to let a pedestrian pass the pedestrian crossing. An old Mercedes taxi got the front damaged, but the driver didn’t even bother to get out of the car and inspect the damage. Instead he laughed… I finally realized I was a long way from home.
Before arriving to Ceuta I had been in contact with a friend from Couch Surfing. Her name was Patricia She picked me up near the port, after a short telephone call, and we drove to her place. A very nice person with a big heart, and creative she was too. She gave me a bracelet she had done herself. During the two days I shared her company, she showed me the city of Ceuta, the border to Morocco and the not so nice part of life. The immigrants living at the concentration camp and in the forrest’s. They come all the way from mid  Africa, South America, India and Pakistan. It really gives you a bad taste in your mouth, to see the conditions they live under, and they live here all the year, not knowing their destiny.
The border of Morocco was total chaos, people sitting at the side of the road in the middle of rubbish. Money changers making profit on people passing, and cars trying to pick their way in all the chaotic living.
Patricia and me finished the day watching the sun set and drinking arabic tea.
To start with I had planned to take the road on the coast leading west, but I was going to get wiser. There are two borders, one of them can be used for all people, including foreigners, the other one, I had in mind to use, is only for citizens in Morocco working in Ceuta. Only they can pass this border.
Right now I will find a bank, changing some US Dollars for Dirham’s. The money changers at the border didn’t accept US Dollars, only Euros. And further more, I don’t trust these bastards standing at the borders!
I can now feel that the season is changing, the weather is getting colder, rainy and windy so I might be better packing my things and migrate further south to warm conditions. Tanger, Morocco is within sight this evening. The journey starts for real now! Don’t know when I will see you again. Take care readers and wish me good luck once again.