We had a pleasant crossing. The weather was so calm that we arrived at Tangier Med about two hours early.
We then tried to follow rather vague instructions (in Italian and Arabic) about how to disembark. The first line we stood in wanted the importation papers for the truck, which were, of course, in the truck and not accessible. There were several of us in the same situation. We were told to go to another line and get an escort to go down to the garage for our papers. The second line told all of this that that was nonsense. They would process immigration and we should all handle the vehicles on the pier. So our passports were duly stamped and we disembarked, prepared to process the vehicle in customs. This we did, but it took at least two hours. One hour before we were able to begin the process, and one hour while they decided what to do as we had no carte grise (grey card, the universal European auto registry), only Virginia registration papers, which are white. (carte blanche?)
In the end, they came back with our temporary import permit and we were off on the motorway for our first campsite, just north of Asilah. Never heard of Asilah? Neither had we. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asilah) How about the old imperialist line “Perdicaris alive or el Raisuni dead!” Raisuni built a palace in Asilah, allegedly with the proceeds from ransoming Perdicaris (And sorry Ms. Bergen, Perdicaris was a man.) (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perdicaris_affair)
Asilah is a classic Moroccan coastal city, overshadowed by the more famous Tangier and Casablanca. Today that means a classic, historic center, surrounded by vast new, modern housing blocks and thousands of beach vacation developments. Miles and miles of them.

The campground proved to be pleasant and we settled in. The next day was the Muslim holy day of Friday and hence, like Sunday in the United States, the town was likely to be closed. So we stayed home, only paying a visit to a small supermarket about four kilometers away on our bicycles.
It seems that, in Morocco, couscous is most often served on Friday and for lunch. It being Friday, we ordered couscous for dinner. It was good but not wonderful. Note taken – next time order it at lunch!

Our European router does not have service in Morocco, so we headed into Asilah the next day in search of a local SIM card. The taxi driver took us by the INWI telecom store, but it was still closed at 10:00 AM. It was supposed to open at 9:00 AM. We noted the location and the taxi dropped us at the entrance to the Medina.


After a quick reconnaissance, and, of course, a coffee for people and traffic watching, we wandered back to the shop and found it open. Happily, the gentleman at the shop spoke a bit of French, a bit of English, and a lot of SIM. Within 15 minutes, we had a month’s unlimited 4G service for about $50. Didn’t even have to change the password!
Denise needed fruit and vegetables and she made some judicious purchases (bearing in mind that Fred would have to carry them!) from some street vendors. Amongst them were some wonderful strawberries. We also found a much needed ATM. Morocco is a country that likes to be paid in cash. Credit cards need only rarely apply.


After a quick wander through the modern part of town, we headed back towards the Medina. Lunch was excellent, at a restaurant recommended by our taxi driver. We then set off in earnest to explore the old fort and Medina.








We came upon a gentleman playing a traditional three stringed guitar type instrument. Fred found it tough going, although the lack of frets makes it easy to play any scale you want.


A pleasant, low key introduction to a new country.
We set off the next day to the Roman site of Volubilis. We found a nearby campsite and, after determining that the mountains looked too mean for biking, set off to visit the next day. Arrived early in the morning, before the heat, before the tour busses, and before the ticket office opened.

Our multiple visits to Roman sites in Jordan, in Paestum, and in Herculanum, had given us a greater understanding of what we were seeing and we were quite happy without a guide.

There are a lot of wonderful mosaics, but sadly, they are not protected and are aging with the sun.

We strolled the decumanus, which would have been a main shopping street, with covered galleries on the sides, the sewer underneath, and lots of shops, temples, and wealthy homes.
We planned then to head into Meknes to shop at the big Carrefour. Fred had a little trouble getting enough air pressure for the brakes to release, so there was a short delay in leaving. Heat? Altitude? We wondered why. All would become clear at Carrefour.
Arriving in Meknes, it was clear that we could not get into the formal car park, but the guardian had managed to fit us right up against the stadium wall, with lots of room for our ladder. Parking guardians are everywhere and can achieve great things. So off we went for a great Euro style shop. Happy, happy. After loading our groceries, Fred realized he had insufficient air pressure to move. We had a serious leak not good at all.
So, Fred chatted with the guardian. “You don’t happen to have a cousin who is a diesel mechanic, do you?” “Let me think.”
Fifteen minutes later, the guardian led Fred around the corner to a man working on a car parked outside a small auto parts store. The mechanic agreed to come look at the truck. He could hear the leak but rising the cab was difficult as we were on a slope against a wall, and with no air pressure, we could not release the brakes to roll back. So we raised the cab, braced it with non-OSHA approved blocks of wood and found the leak. And, when the first repair did not hold, the mechanic went off to the market for a new hose.


This installed and tested, we were charged the princely sum of $30.00. We were needless to say, thrilled, and paid a tip. And to the guardian as well.
Welcome to Morocco indeed!


















































































































































































