Tag: Unicat

Rissani to Zagora

This was our first trip out into the desert proper with the cars. Real desert is not like the sand dunes of film sets. It is much more desolate. Rocks, dust, sand, barren hills. Technically, we are not quite in the Sahara desert but an area of semi-arid Pre-Saharan Steppes. However, any local will definitively assert that this is genuinely the Sahara and they can sell you a very modestly priced souvenir to prove it.

Our route followed some well-travelled pistes. Dotted along the way were several “auberge”, desert hotels where you can sleep and eat. We mostly passed these by, but late afternoon were waved down at one and told some horror stories of bad roads ahead. Next to impassable by all accounts but fortunately there was a guide on hand. For a modest fee, he could show us the way round. We chose to go look for ourselves. An hour or so later were looking at a steep climb out of a river bed. Fortunately, we had the right vehicles for the job so this turned out to be a bit of fun rather than a serious challenge.

  • Dust
  • More dust
  • Mounds of dust
  • Andy examines a rock

Next day we crossed a vast dusty plain and camped right in the middle of nowhere. I mean really nowhere. No lights, houses, fields, piles of rocks, nothing. Just some very spikey bushes. In the evening a woman and child appeared and watched us quietly for a while. She left a set of tracks up a small dune and vanished. In the morning, we checked to see where she had gone. There was no village or settlement of any kind in the direction of her tracks.  

Last day to Zagora took us over a small mountain range with some interesting tracks and down into a very empty valley. Here we delighted in finding a well and pumping water out of it. Lars and Inge (directly descended from Vikings) both had a shower in the cold well water. A small boy turned up on a bike. We had no idea where he had come from either.

Finally, we arrived at Zagora and checked into a nice campsite. Nestled in the lush palms of the Draa Valley, Zagora is traditionally a gateway to the Sahara. An important stopping place for the great camel trains plying their trade. A sign at the edge of town declares that it is 52 days (by camel) to Timbouctou. My father used to threaten to send me to Timbouctou when I was naughty. These days the way is blocked by closed borders, minefield, bandits and terrorists. Does this make it a more or less effective as a deterrent for small children?

  • Andy kicks a rock
  • Tea and gossip
  • Valley with a well in the middle
  • Pumping water from the well
  • Campsite

Erg Chebbi

Merzouga is a busy centre for travellers seeking the desert experience in Erg Chebbi. This is one of several ergs in Morocco – large seas of dunes formed by wind-blown sand. From their nice hotel, tourists are herded, possibly on a camel, across the sand dunes west to a permanent campsite in the desert. Camps are carefully placed to be out of site of the hotels while maintaining such basics as hot water and wifi.  After a night of glamping and good food, the desert hardened adventurers are brought back to their hotel for a much needed shower and glass of chilled chardonnay. It is the grown up equivalent of camping in the garden.

We headed east of the dunes in an attempt to sneak round the back of tourist land and see some proper desert. Diane and I arrived well ahead of the others and set up camp. The cars didn’t turn up until nightfall. Evening takes about half an hour here. Just after you first notice the sun is going down, it sets and goes dark. We had a few problems with cars getting stuck in the sand. The trick is to deflate the tyres. Also, Liz announced the onset of Ammophobia – a fear of sand. This is a tricky and potentially serious medical condition to manage in the middle of an erg. We did the best we could mostly by patting her on the head.

Next morning the group consensus was that we should leave the dunes and head further south. This was achieved with only a modicum of getting stuck. By lunchtime we were on the tarmac road to Rissani.

  • Fixed camp
  • Desert dog
  • Late arrivals
  • Andy inspects some grass

Gara Medour

Gara Medour is another film location but a much more natural one. Also called as Jebel Mudawwar (round mountain), it is a horseshoe-shaped geological formation technically known as an erosion cirque. It looks like some sort of volcanic caldera but is actually a water worn formation. Although looking at it sticking up in the middle of a desert it is not at all obvious to me how this can have happened. Naturally it is pretty much a complete fortress and in the 11th century the structure was completed with the addition of a 12m wall. From here the city of Sijilmasa (gold coins) could be protected along with various trade routes.

We had to drive way off the tarmac road to find it. This was considerably more satisfying than finding some of the previous classic tourist traps. There were a couple of people trying to sell trinkets but for the most part, we had the place to ourselves.

In the evening we drove a bit further out into the desert to a couple of palms and a dried up well. Made for a lovely campsite where we met up with Liz, Andy, Lars and Inge again.

Dades

South of Ouarzazate is the Finnt Oasis. The route took us through what looked like it was going to be a large industrial estate. The roads are laid. Street lamps are in place along with services and electricity. But that is all. There are no actual buildings. The site is massive. Several kilometres square. All prepared for building but looking now as if it had been deserted. We have seen several sites like this in Morocco and they are a bit of a mystery.

Leaving the wide roads of partially built estate, we took to a dirt track across a barren rocky area before descending into a narrow valley. Here we found the oasis. Very green and wet and generally picture book oasis like. The dog played in the water and we all had a picnic on a rock.

A couple of days later we were at the Dades Gorge. This is one of two dramatic clefts on the southern side of the High Atlas. The road is thin but passable and spectacular. Eventually, a few kilometres past the little village of Tilmi, we reached the start of a steep mountain section. This was too narrow for Baloo to manage safely. Evening was falling so we camped in a random field and later two men and a donkey wandered past in the darkness. Next day the two cars went over the mountains leaving us to back track our way down the gorge.

  • At the sign of the prancing dog
  • Classic oasis
  • Everyone has to take this shot
  • Avoid hitting the top of Baloo
  • Back down in the desert

Ksar Aït Benhaddou

Getting around Marrakech in a truck is problematic. Every road seems to have a ‘no trucks’ sign on it. We tried several routes and eventually just took a direct path. Fortunately, the local police did not seem too concerned and just waved at us. However, these diversions separated us from our travelling companions. Liz and Andy had flown out from the UK and hired a Land Cruiser. Lars and Inge had driven fast and hard all the way from Denmark in their Land Rover. Eventually, several days out of Marrakech, we caught up with them and headed for Aït Benhaddou.

  • Fettling the Tilley

Ksar Aït Benhaddou is an ighrem (fortified village) on the former caravan route between the Sahara and Marrakech. It is built using an earthen clay architecture and has been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1987. Inside the walls of the ksar are several kasbahs (merchants’ houses). The location has been used for dozens of films including Game of Thrones.

Frankly, it is all a bit too commercialised for my tastes. There are many flocks of visitors being herded around, a persistent background noise of intrusive sales people and the constant demands of children pestering for money and sweets. Despite this, it was quite interesting and I found that Cent, our beautiful German Shepherd, was very a very effective child repellent.

  • Diane re-enacts some famous scene from some famous movie
  • Its all made of mud

High Atlas

Getting out of the Rif Mountains did feel like a bit of an escape so we were happy to haul up at a very pleasant campsite just south of Marrakesh. We spent a couple of days here waiting for some friends to join us and stocking up at the big supermarkets and shopping malls of a modern city.
Then we set off south and over the High Atlas Mountains. We moved into a much more rural Morocco with a completely different rhythm of life. Agriculture where irrigation was possible and donkeys rather than trucks. The mountains were spectacular although there is no snow yet. Descending the far side, we started to see hints of desert and a whole other way of life.

  • Partially empty reservoir
  • Driving school
  • Working on his own
  • Smells like desert

Rif Mountains

We arrived in Morocco with very little trouble. Customs formalities were minimal and the officials were very polite. We headed straight out of the city and to the Mediterranean coast. Mid-afternoon we found a lovely little bay with a bit of coarse beach and grey pebbles. Sadly, as dusk fell and we were settling in, the police arrived and very nicely explained that we could not spend the night there because of immigrants. I did not really understand this but obviously, we moved and ended up in a car park overlooking the same beach.
Next day we drove straight into the middle of a town on market day. That was quite exciting and also marked the start of our trip over the Rif mountains. This area produces much of the world’s hashish. Cannabis is illegal in Morocco but in some weird way that seems to only apply to foreigners. Every third car flashed its lights and stopped in front of us to try to sell drugs. Every sixth person by the roadside waved us down with similar offers. This got very wearing and time consuming. We had no interest at all in buying drugs but if you every want a few kilos of finest Moroccan black then this appears to be the place to visit. Eventually we drove until it got dark and then tried to find a quiet layby. Half a dozen visits later, we were finally left alone to get some sleep.
Early start in the morning to try to get away before the dealers arrived again. A few minutes down the road, we came across a truck with its front wheel dangling off the road. The driver later explained that he had dozed off. This is not a good thing to do on mountain roads. Baloo makes a good pulling truck and it was not too difficult to get him back to safety. The driver was quite relieved and kissed me a lot. I found this a bit awkward.
The next day we arrived at a car park with monkeys. They did not like Cent, the dog, and threw sticks at him. Diane accepted the offer of a pony ride and we all had a pleasant walk around the cedar forest. For an extra 20 Dirhams we were allowed to park there overnight.

  • First night in Morocco
  • Drive a truck through this
  • Italian Job

Spain

We crossed into Spain and pretty much made a straight line for the beach at Mazarron on the Mediterranean coast. The route was mostly about olive trees. Lots and lots of olive trees. Eventually we ran out of olive trees and arrived at the seaside.
The coast of Spain here is a bit of an odd place. It has something of a micro-climate that keeps it warm and sunny even when a little further inland the weather is less clement. It is also strangely attractive to Brits. They are everywhere. Some parts really feel substantially more English than Spanish – albeit in a ‘Brits on holiday’ sense. At this time of year, much of the place is shut down so it is quiet although the weather, especially by UK standards, is great. The cost of living is pretty reasonable too so I can see the attraction. We, however, still have many places to go and next on the list is Morocco.
The reason we were in Mazarron was to meet up with Unicat owners Davide and Franca. A lovely couple that travel with their three pit bulls. We know them of old. They are Morocco veterans so we wanted to sit at their feet for a while to learn some wisdom. And indeed they were a font of useful knowledge. We also ate some great food (thank you Franca) and visited some interesting places.

  • Roger Dean inspired erosion
  • Cent is happy to pull me along
  • Unicats on the beach

Portugal

For a handful of days we ran south through Portugal roughly following the Douro river on the border with Spain. The river valley is a vast wine producing area where grapes are grown to make the famous Port wine. Almonds are cultivated here and every hill appears covered in olive trees. We were quite captivated by the pretty rolling hills and winding roads, which we enjoyed, despite the persistent rain. Here and there, we saw trees stripped of bark. Evergreen Cork Oaks. A protected species in Portugal harvested in-situ to make corks for wine bottles.

  • Olive trees everywhere
  • Cork Oaks

We crossed a new reservoir. So new that it was not on any of my maps. We also found some particularly good hairpin bends. One of the down sides of travelling in a truck is that getting it around corners is, on some occasions, problematical. It is usually possible but can require several shunts. Fortunately for this corner there was no traffic trying to push past and no horrendous steep drops to worry about.

Picos de Europa

East from the Pyrenees are the Picos de Europa mountains. A small but spectacular range comprising several magnificent peaks (up to 2,650m) and some of the world’s deepest caves (down to 1,589m). We didn’t see anything much of this because of rubbish weather and many of the roads being closed for maintenance. We did camp in a massive and empty car park where, on other days, it is possible to travel up to a very pretty lake. We also visited several ‘road closed’ signs and did a lot of backtracking. Eventually we gave up and exited to the south. Spent our last night on top of a pass at 1500m. Just after we had settled down for dinner and some wine, the local police arrived. Three of them in a very smart police car. Looked like we might be in trouble. Maybe get moved on. Possibly worse. We heard the footsteps coming round to the door side. Then two of them took out phones to snap a few pictures and they left. This vehicle attracts a bit too much attention at times.

  • Man at work
  • When we get diesel we can often get water as well
  • Promising weather just before we get to the mountains
  • Playa de Franca beach
  • Windy
  • Empty car park
  • Ready for inspection

East Pyrenees

At the far left hand end of the Pyrenees we found a wonderful little spot perched high on a ridge. The road up was thin and precipitous so a pause at the top for a few deep breaths was called for. A small restaurant and tourist shop straddles the border between France and Spain but presents itself as being totally Basque. Here you can buy bells for cows (big ones), hats, knives (also big), preserved meats and other paraphernalia purporting to be regional. We climbed a hill. Watched vultures slope soaring. Drank a beer and admired the sunset. As darkness fell, everyone went home and we were left alone. We camped there for the night and watched a properly spectacular sunrise in the morning (best time for them). The road down the other side proved to be equally exciting and took a couple of hours so we were pleased that we had opted to take a break.

Pyrenees by bike

The Pyrenees are a beautiful mountainous area with steep winding roads and spectacular vistas. Ideal biking territory. We have a KTM 690 Enduro R on the back of the truck. It sits on a platform along with the spare wheel. This is raised and lowered by a small electric winch. The KTM is a compromise but a pretty good one. Ideally, we would have a bigger bike for Diane to ride pillion. At the same time a smaller bike would be easier to handle off-road and for loading onto the platform. The KTM has a single cylinder engine. This makes the bike fairly light (125kg) and slim. But it still has enough poke that, even with a pillion, it can get down the road in a very handy fashion. As an alternative to Diane, I can also fit two panniers on the back for luggage. This is very useful for fetching and carrying things. When not in use the panniers also attach to the bike carrying platform.

  • Tail lift for the spare wheel, bike and panniers
  • Don’t mess with the goat

So, we spent a delightful day bobbing around little roads in the Pyrenees with no particular place to go. An assortment of goats and sheep added to the entertainment. Refreshment came from numerous drinking fountains dotted along the way. We followed a really tiny, winding road up to the border and then dropped down into Spain. Along some fast, flowing roads. Back up to the heights. Briefly down a dirt track and finally along a spectacular valley bottom back to Baloo.

Andorra

Andorra is a tiny principality nestled between France and Spain. Is is also the gateway to the Pyrenees and a good place to buy cheap diesel. It is a strange tax-haven and duty free place with a population of just 77,000 people. It has the highest cigarette consumption in the world at 6,400 cigarettes per person each year. However, it may be that not all of these are for personal consumption as Andorra also has the highest life expectancy in the world at 81 years. Brexit fans will be pleased to know that Andorra is not part of the EU but will be disturbed that Andorra adopted the Euro as its official currency. Andorra declared war on Germany in WW1 but did not actually take part so was not included in the Treaty of Versailles. Technically, Andorra was still at war until 1958. 10 million annual visitors means over 1,000 tourists per resident each year. Andorra is unusual in that its airport is in another country (Spain) and so it its nearest train station (France).

  • Pas de la Casa

Andorra is very short on places to park for the night. Everything is squished into two valleys giving a general sense of the country and being very steep and crowded. We stopped on top of the hill above Pas de la Casa just after entering Andorra so that the next day we could drive the rest of the way through and escape to Spain before nightfall. It is not so far to drive but the traffic and border queues can be massively time consuming. It all worked out well. Fantastic sunset and the next day, fully stocked on diesel and duty free, we emerged into Spain and started working our way west along the Pyrenees.

France

France is a lovely country for travelling in a motorhome. Pleasant countryside. Easy parking. Quiet. We drifted across France without much effort as we settled back into living in Baloo.
Our normal routine is typically to drive a few hours a day. Mornings are for cleaning out the truck, fixing things, sorting out emails and occasionally baking bread. We also plan the route for the day. This is often a very superficial exercise and can sometimes be no more involved than choosing a direction.

  • Setting off in a clean, shiny truck
  • We don’t usually fit into a space in the supermarket car park
  • Fresh bread for breakfast

After a few hours driving, we arrive. Sometimes we just spot somewhere nice. Often we use Apps and guide books to try to identify a good parking spot. Sometimes we need to try a few places before the ideal pitch presents itself. Generally, we avoid campsites and commercial camper van stops. Baloo is remarkably self-sufficient: power, heating, water, cooking. We have a lovely bathroom with a shower and even if we use the washing machine, we still only need to take on water every few weeks. Our ideal site is quiet and possibly quite remote. Somewhere to walk the dog, enjoy the views and relax in the evening. My personal favourites have been on the top of mountains or cliffs.
Not far from Bordeaux we met up with Pete. I have known Pete since I was a teenager and we have had many adventures together on the cliffs, mountains and ski slopes of the world. He is pottering around France in his one-man camper van so we travelled together for a few days.

Pete suggested a visit to the Millau viaduct. Built in 2004 it is, at 336m, still one of the highest bridges in the world. A few years ago, I watched a fascinating documentary about its construction and had been interested in seeing it ever since. Diane and I hopped on the bike to have a look around both ends of the bridge and then eventually we drove Baloo over the main deck. Actually crossing the bridge is a bit of an anti-climax.  The carriageways are well away from the edge of the deck and there is a substantial fence. The view is limited and you do not really get a sense of the height.

We waved goodbye to Pete and continued to trek south.

Arbentuer and Allrad

During the summer, we popped back to the UK to sort out a few things. However, before that, we took Baloo to the Arbentuer and Allrad Exhibition at Bad Kissingen. This is an annual show of expedition vehicles and equipment. A lot of exhibitors and visitors arrive to take over the town for one week a year. It is billed as the “World´s largest cross-country-expo” and it really is quite an event. Unicat are there every year and we were delighted to be invited to park Baloo on their stand. In preparation for the show we gave Baloo a good clean and some new livery.

  • Visiting the Unicat workshop

We really enjoyed the show. I particularly liked wandering around looking at the massive range of vehicles and equipment on display. We also had quite a few visitors and people we showed around Baloo. This was a bit strange. Baloo is a terrific vehicle but it is also our home so it felt a bit odd having strangers looking around inside. Fortunately, Diane was much better at this than me so I tended to let her get on with it. That said, we met some great people and had some fascinating chats. Elsewhere at the show there were some really interesting travellers and great stories.

  • Tyres so big that it floats on water
  • Centre of Bad Kissingen
  • Drone shot in a tent

By the end of four days we were completely ready to get back on the road again. This didn’t happen. Baloo went back to Unicat for some minor improvements and changes. We went back to the UK to visit friends and family, sort things out and deal with some of the mundane stuff of everyday life.

Now. At the end of September, we are properly back on the road again and currently trekking across France.

Kristiansand to Denmark

Our last few days in Scandinavia and Norway continued to deliver. We’ve seen quite a lot of Norway now and the scenery everywhere is fabulous. Mountains, fjords, ferociously steep cliffs and gorgeous views. The roads are generally quiet, the people friendly and the travelling easy.

This sheep was giving us the eye – but generally Norway is a very friendly place

This is how we like to park up for the night. First, get off the road. 2. Drive down a nice track. 3. Find a quiet and peaceful parking place. 4. Feel smug. 5. Enjoy the view while cooking dinner.

  • Get off the road
  • Get right off the road
  • Find a nice parking place
  • Be happy
  • Contemplate the view

Eventually we ran out of Norway. We’d started at the very top and had now reached the very bottom. It was a good trip and we’d like to come back for another go someday. On the northward leg we had used the Øresund Bridge. Described as an engineering marvel, it connects Copenhagen with Malmö in Sweden and gives the northbound traveller excellent access to the central Scandinavian hinterland. It is 8km long and starts in a tunnel. It is, without doubt, very impressive. The toll fee is also impressive. Eye wateringly so.

For the return trip we took the ferry from Kristiansand to Hirtshals in Denmark. There are two vessels that run this route. The HSC Fjord Cat is one of the fastest car carrying ferries in the world and does over 40 knots. We took Colorline Superspeed, another big, fast, comfortable catamaran that is more pedestrian and cheaper.   

  • Industry and fjords

Back in Denmark we ended the trip where we had started, three months earlier, with the wonderful Lars and Inge. The sun was shining. We hopped in one of their many Land Rovers and went for a picnic. Perfect.

After Denmark came the mostly boring trek back to the Unicat workshop in Germany. We paused briefly at the Kiel Canal. Watching the ships go past was fun for a while but they keep going all night and it did get to be a bit noisy for sleeping.

Lysebotn

I have been told that I should write a little more about each blog entry.

Lysebotn is a small village at the end of the Lysefjorden. It is particularly isolated and can only be reached by a small road or by boat. The surrounding cliffs are steep and high making them popular for base jumping. The local economy is based on work at two hydroelectric stations – both of which are built entirely inside the mountains. In the summer, when the road is open, there is some tourism. The road is epic. It crosses the mountains for some 25km and then goes down a 900m cliff to the village. This involves 27 hairpin turns, one of which is inside a tunnel.

Baloo is not very good at steep hairpin bends. Partly this is because of the limited turning circle. We have to do shunts to get round tighter bends. The other problem is that when executing a shunt we have to drive the front wheels right to the edge of the road. In this position the cab is hanging out over the drop and this is a bit scary. So, in the interests of a quieter life, we hopped on the bike.

Brilliant views coming over the mountains. Tight, winding road. Virtually no other traffic. Ideal really. Well, apart from the cloud and rain, that caught up with us just are we started the descent. By the time we reached the fjord at the bottom the rain was coming down by the bucket full. From the waterline the fjord was steep, high, dark, moody and ominous. We did a quick turnaround. Grabbed a couple of photos and then set off back up the hill. At the top of the hairpins is a fantastic wooden café which hangs out over the cliff. Great scenery despite the mist. The rain turned to snow making me a bit concerned for the trip back. The KTM 690 Enduro is a terrific bike but, like most bikes, it is rubbish in the snow.

Coffee and cake in the café to fuel the return journey then back over the mountains. The snow eased as we reached the highest point. Happy days. It had just started to settle on the road a little but then faded away and suddenly there were patches of blue skies in front of us. The rest of the trip back to Baloo and Cent was cold, uneventful and thoroughly enjoyable.

Sognefjord

The Sognefjord is Norway’s longest and deepest fjord. Incredible views, big waterfalls, narrow roads, small but very capable ferries. We stumbled upon the steep road to Gaularfjellet. Baloo needed to do shunts on several hairpins. With the front wheels at the edge of the road, the cab is hanging out into space. I find this more than a little disconcerting at times.

Briksdalen

At the far end of Nordfjord is the Briksdalen Valley. A classic U shaped glacial valley that still has a glacier at the end. This place can be very busy with visitors but luckily we got there a week or two before the main tourist and cruise ship season begins.

  • Tunnel seemed very small from inside Baloo
  • Briksdalsbreen is an arm of the great Jostedalsbreen Glacier
  • An old friend

Nordkapp

This is as far North as it is possible to drive in Europe. It is very popular. We waited six days for the roads to be cleared and drove up with the first convoy. Met some interesting people but after an hour or so we left as the first coaches of tourists from the Hurtigruten cruise ship arrived.

  • http://worldroamers.com/
  • This guy had ridden on studded tyres from Finland

Industrial Camping #2

We turned our back on the Alps and headed to the Unicat workshop. Time for some adjustments and upgrades before setting off in a different direction.

  • Last look back at the Alps
  • Toilet roll upgrade
  • Installing a new electrician
  • Winch envy
  • Dog getting excited about all the interesting workshop things
  • Re-registering the bike in case of Brexit
  • Walnut trees behind the workshop

Lets Gets

Spent a week at Lets Gets on the French border. We were there to meet up with an old friend and ski. It snowed quite a lot. The slopes were crowded. Many Brits on package tours.

This used to be a very popular location for motor homes. Close to a chair lift. The ‘Aire de Camping Cars’ costs €18 per day. For which you get – nothing. Well, not quite, there is a hole in one corner of the car park to empty your washing up water. However, that really is the full scope of the facilities. When the inspectors came round, they took our money and then told us we were not welcome. Too big. Do not come back. How big is too big? They got very vague on this and shuffled a bit. Oh well. Lets Gets just got a little less popular.

  • Too big for the parking area
  • Too much snow to go skiing
  • Deep, fresh snow on Mont Chéry
  • Dog with no legs

Garmisch

We headed into Austria, again, following reports of lots of snow. We got completely stuck because of weight restrictions, again. In fact there were extra restrictions in place because of the snow. After a couple of days we did manage to reach one ski resort but were told quite firmly that we could not camp there. So we left Austria disappointed, again, and headed for Germany, again.

Garmisch is really the only serious ski area in Germany but it is lovely. There was fresh snow, good runs, good views and good restaurants.