The motorway was a reward for driving sixty miles along, around and off the edge of ,the worst stretch of road I have ever encountered . It wasn't possible to take more pics because Sue couldn't hold the camera still!
There were pot- holes, long and deep enough to swallow Delfin whole! We used every tea towel and hand towel in our possession, to try and dampen the creaks and rattles coming from every drawer and cupboard. Then to cap it all, there came the sound of a tyre going flat .... again. With much huffing and puffing we pulled in at the side of the road in El -Jadida, (quite a busy town) and found that the tyre was still alive! Went a little further, could still hear the noise. By now we had forgotten to follow the Sat Nav because we were keeping our eyes open for a " pneus" garage. Never one about when you need it, so needless to say we ended up in a narrow one way street being abused by Moroccan car drivers and their horns.
"Keep the sea on your left " came the cry from she who is in charge of maps and guidance equipment.
Then there was an opportunity to pull onto a large garage forecourt and inspect these precious tyres. We ran our hands all the way round each one and then I found the problem. Two large stones had embedded themselves in the deep tread and were clunking with each rotation. Decision time. Should we pull them out or would that release the air? At least we were off the road if we had to phone for assistance. Out they came like a couple of rotten teeth. Then we waited. Two European ladies, on their hands and knees, bottoms in the air, at a busy garage, ears to the ground, listening for a hiss. The image was very unflattering. But hey, who cares? Not a sound. There was no longer anything to worry about so for the first time in Morocco, we used a motorway for the rest of the trip.
No matter where we have travelled, the ubiquitous satellite dishes are everywhere, even in the low rise squalor on the outskirts of Casablanca.
Other points of interest today have been the "salines"
the carrot strippers,
and the Saturday fruit and veg souks. 
Have a look at these road signs. Is it any wonder people get speeding tickets!
Now we're here at Mohammedia , the line is up and yes you've guessed it, Sue is happily doing our washing, in the shade of the eucalyptus trees. It's called Camping Ocean Blue, and we are fifty metres from the Atlantic!
Then there was an opportunity to pull onto a large garage forecourt and inspect these precious tyres. We ran our hands all the way round each one and then I found the problem. Two large stones had embedded themselves in the deep tread and were clunking with each rotation. Decision time. Should we pull them out or would that release the air? At least we were off the road if we had to phone for assistance. Out they came like a couple of rotten teeth. Then we waited. Two European ladies, on their hands and knees, bottoms in the air, at a busy garage, ears to the ground, listening for a hiss. The image was very unflattering. But hey, who cares? Not a sound. There was no longer anything to worry about so for the first time in Morocco, we used a motorway for the rest of the trip.
No matter where we have travelled, the ubiquitous satellite dishes are everywhere, even in the low rise squalor on the outskirts of Casablanca.
the carrot strippers,
 |
Have a look at these road signs. Is it any wonder people get speeding tickets!
 |
Now we're here at Mohammedia , the line is up and yes you've guessed it, Sue is happily doing our washing, in the shade of the eucalyptus trees. It's called Camping Ocean Blue, and we are fifty metres from the Atlantic!
No comments:
Post a Comment