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(>Pictures at the bottom!)
…the long way to Morocco
The days were getting shorter, the nights longer and our desire to continue our journey south had increased almost immeasurably. After moving into our new shared flat in Dornach and making many adjustments to our camper van, i.e. the slimming programme (see also under ‘Technology’), we packed our bags. I would have liked to have done this or that, but Chantal was tired of waiting.
Before we left ‘fresh’ Switzerland, we made a short visit to relatives north of the already snow-covered Stockhorn, and we already had a new idea for our route. Why not travel south via Italy and France? We noted in passing that it can be very cold in Switzerland in the evening and at night at this time of year. In any case, the first night off the beaten track on a forest road north of the Simplon Pass was very cold and once again we appreciated our heat-giving heating, which incidentally warmed up our narrow cabin to pleasant temperatures.
The eagle on the Simplon Pass, surrounded by the first snow, smiled at us from afar. Our stay was correspondingly short, and we headed down through the deep gorge southwards towards Domodossola and further out into the expanse of the Po Valley. The days were pleasant and sunny, the evenings and nights – as can be the case in mid-November – fresh to very cold.
Our zest for action and hunger for adventure were undimmed despite the nightly freshness, and the sugar-coated Alps tempted us more than the direct route to the Mediterranean. So we suddenly had the idea of driving over the Tenda Pass to France. We ignored the large information board at the entrance to the valley and were convinced that we could bypass the closed road tunnel over the pass; after all, we had four-wheel drive and snow chains with us! But this plan came to nothing; the old pass road was also already closed, forcing us to turn back.
From that point on, we studied the open road connections more closely and found another open crossing in the southern Alps between Italy and France. We reached Barcelonette via the Col de Maddelene and the next surprise: for the onward route, only the Col d’Allos or the motorway in a westerly direction were still open. We naturally chose the route over the 2,200-metre-high pass. The autumnal detour to the Grand Canyon du Verdon was an absolute must with this route choice, and we were amazed to see that there were still many tourists on the road, hungry for more travel experiences.
Before we headed inland again, we made a stop in the Camargue and listened to the evening swell next to a horse pasture.
For our onward journey, we planned a detour to Lourdes and the next southern crossing into Spain. But the cold north wind and dark clouds made us reconsider our route. The weather forecast predicted snowfall in the Pyrenees, even at low altitudes, and so we changed our route in favour of the eastern coastal region. But even in sunny Spain, the clouds hung low along the Costa Brava, tempting us to make rapid progress in a southerly direction.
We followed the coast on side streets towards Valencia, where I wanted to take a quick look over the fence of Stadler Rail to see if I could spot yellow trams or locomotives of the SBB there. I was able to see the yellow Tinas – the new trams of BLT – through the high factory fence, but not the locomotives for the SBB. Instead, I spotted six-axle locomotives from the various rail operators for the liberalised European freight transport.
We didn’t want to go through Valencia, as our curiosity about the recent flood disaster was not particularly high. In the end, we found ourselves right in the middle of it, i.e. in the centre of Valencia, and were surprised that there was actually nothing to see that would have reminded us of a disaster. It was only to the south and southwest that the water must have sought its disastrous path through the industrial and commercial area weeks ago. Further west, in the higher areas, we did see some destruction and how the water had swept away everything in its path through the narrow river channels. Anyone who was then on the roads and streets along or through the otherwise dry riverbeds; well, then good night and never to be seen again. Down in the valley and plains towards Valencia, mountains of demolished cars were piled up at the side of the road.
We spent the night at a reservoir in the interior, which probably had never been full in recent years; many marked barbecue areas were under the water surface. The massive traces of the water power from the flood are clearly visible at the overflow of the dam wall and how the water masses plunged through the valley into nearby Valencia. With a little awe and respect, we lay down under the covers; such a drama must have left a deep impression on the local population.
The weather forecast predicted more precipitation, so we left the mountains again in the direction of the Mediterranean. After so much rain, many side roads and paths were still closed or severely damaged. The upcoming rain could suddenly present us with other problems in the remote areas, preventing us from moving either forward or backward. And, after all, we want to go to Morocco and not hibernate somewhere in the Spanish Sierra!
So we headed for Cartagena and immediately enjoyed the friendly weather on the Mediterranean coast. Since our Jeep had a leak in the rear left brake caliper, we went to a Jeep workshop and hoped for appropriate help and spare parts. To our annoyance, they said they would have to order the necessary spare part in Italy and the delivery date was given as ‘undetermined’. The mechanic said that this slight leakage was acceptable and that we should just keep an eye on the brake fluid reservoir. Hoping that he was right, we left the workshop and continued on our way.
In the meantime, we planned our round trip through Morocco. To bypass the Rif Mountains (drug mafia), we booked the ferry crossing from Almeria to Melilla, where we could then drive directly into the Atlas Mountains. We also hoped to be able to experience some of this wild region before the snowfalls and to spend the next cold winter weeks south of it.
But once again, things didn’t go as planned; the brake caliper was leaking more and more, and we decided to postpone the ferry crossing. We ordered the rear brake calipers from an ‘after-market’ dealer, which were available and should arrive in Spain at our desired address in a few days. The experience from last spring in Arizona/USA taught us to deliver spare parts to Morocco, which would be a bit more complicated.
Although the German dealer promised us an express delivery, the two brake calipers we had ordered took a little longer than we would have liked, and an annoying wait at a campsite began. Although the constant glances at the mobile phone added a certain uneasiness to the wait, the package must have been left somewhere in Madrid. Of course, it was ‘Black Friday’ and the weekend, and express delivery in southern countries is probably not the same as we would have liked.
Maybe it will be ready in time for the next ferry to Melilla, which will leave shortly before midnight on Wednesday.
We certainly hope so. ;-
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