Dag 76: Marrakech na Rabat

(English Translation Below)

Dag 76: Marrakech na Rabat
 
Ons wikkel onsself stadig los uit die oggendverkeer oppad snelweg toe. Kom by 'n sirkel. Ek is op De Witt se hakke. Reg om oop te maak sodra hy 'n gaping vat. Skielik 'n halwe gaping. Ek gee vet. Maar die kar kóm en De Witt rém. Ek gaan hom tref! Swenk regs, rem hárd. Mis vir De Witt, maar die skielike rem en uitswaai en momentum is te veel en ek beland op die teer. Karre wat stop en uitswaai en vir De Witt beduie sy makker is plat. Ek spring op en beur die fiets regop. Dan is De Witt by en gee die laaste hupstoot. Ons is op en ry weer. Adrenalien. Het ek nie in vanoggend se blog geskryf ons moet nou net nie in die pylvak struikel nie?
 
Die ritme van die langpad laat my adrenalien bedaar. Ons stop na 'n uur of wat vir petrol en 'n koeldrank. De Witt kyk bekommerd na sy koppellaar-hefboom. Die kabel is besig om los te torring! As hy af is, staan ons. Ons weet daar's 'n KTM handelaar in Casablanca, só 120km verder. Reken as De witt sy fiets se quickshifter aktiveer, en dus slegs die koppellaar hoef te gebruik vir wegtrek in eersterat, kan die kabel dalk hou tot daar. Ons ry. Die tolhekke, en later die verkeer in Casablanca, toon geen genade nie. Forseer ons telkens tot stilstand. Dan moet De Witt se koppellaar-kabel aan sy laaste vesels beur om weg te trek, te stop, weg te trek, te stop. Uiteindelik die wonderlike oranje letters: KTM!
 
Ons kom gelyk saam met 'n Engelsman op 'n Husqvarna 701 daar aan. Moet vir drie fietse op die Europees-geïnspireerde smal en tjok-en-blok geparkeerde sypaadjie parkeerplek vind. Ek moet inskuif tussen 'n beton-blombak en die oprit na die winkel langsaan. Die blombak druk teen my bagasie-sak aan die linkerkant. Ek probeer aan die regterkant afklim sodat die blombak nie omval nie. Verloor balans. Val met fiets en al oor na regs die straat in. Voel iets teen my voet. Wil hom wegtrek maar hy sit vas. Kyk om. 'n Kar het net-net betyds gestop vir die petalje, met sy voorwiel half op die hak van my stewel. Ek draai my voet los en trek hom uit. Die kar ry. Dit was amper!
 
Dis eenuur. Die winkel maak op Vrydae van eenuur tot drie-uur toe vir middagete. Ons gaan eet middagete saam met Engelsman. Hy is getroud met 'n Marokkaanse vrou. Kuier vir 'n paar dae by haar familie in Casablanca. Ons gesels motorfietsry. Toe die klok drie-uur slaan is ons terug by die winkel. 'n Halfuur later is die nuwe kabel in, plus hulle gee ons 'n spaar-kabel saam vir ingeval myne volgende groet. Als sonder om 'n sent te vra! Hulle wens ons alle voorspoed toe en beduie ons die beste pad stad uit in Rabat se rigting.
 
Ons kom net voor donker by ons blyplek aan. 'n Gesin in die ou medina verhuur kamers in hulle huis uit op Airbnb. 'n Outentieke Marokkaanse ervaring! Ons ontmoet 'n jong Italiaanse paartjie daar wat videos van hulle reise op Youtube plaas vir 'n lewe. Gaan eet saam met hulle. Gesels oor reis en hoe dinge wat foutgaan telkens geleenthede skep vir ontmoetings met die warmte van mense. Afrika het weer haar hand oor ons gehou vandag. Iets van haarself aan ons geopenbaar.
 
Ons is nog op reis.
 
Day 76: Marrakech to Rabat
 
We slowly disentangle ourselves from the morning traffic on our way to the highway. Approach a roundabout. I'm on De Witt's heels, ready to open up as soon as he finds a gap. Suddenly, a half-gap. I give it throttle. But the car keeps coming and De Witt hits the brakes. I'm going to hit him! I swerve right, brake hard. Miss De Witt, but the sudden braking, swerving, and momentum are too much, and I end up on the asphalt. Cars stop and swerve, indicating to De Witt that his buddy is down. I jump up. Start lifting the bike. Then De Witt is there to give the final push. We're up and riding again. Adrenaline. Didn't I write in this morning's blog that we now just shouldn't stumble in the home straight?
 
The rhythm of the long road calms my adrenaline. We stop after an hour or so for petrol and a cold drink. De Witt looks at his clutch lever. Concerned. The cable is starting to fray! If it breaks, we're stuck. We know there's a KTM dealer in Casablanca, about 120km further. We figure that if De Witt activates his bike's quick-shifter, using the clutch lever only for first gear, the cable might hold until then. We ride. The toll gates, and later the traffic in Casablanca, show no mercy. Force us to stop repeatedly. The clutch cable holding on for dear life. Finally, the wonderful orange letters: KTM!
 
We arrive simultaneously with an Englishman on a Husqvarna 701. Have to find parking for three bikes on the European-inspired narrow and jam-packed sidewalk. I have to squeeze in between a concrete flower pot and the entrance to the shop next door. The flower pot presses against my left saddle bag. I try to dismount on the right hand side so that the flower pot doesn't tip over. Lose balance. Fall with the bike into the street to the right. Feel something against my foot. Want to pull it away, but it's stuck. Look around. A car has stopped just in time. Its front wheel half on the heel of my boot. I twist my foot loose and pull it out. The car drives off. It was close!
 
It's one o'clock. The shop closes from one to three for lunch. We go out for lunch with the Englishman. Ian. He's married to a Moroccan woman. Visiting her family in Casablanca for a few days. We talk about motorcycling. When the clock strikes three, we're back at the shop. Half an hour later, the new cable is in, and they give us a spare one in case mine breaks next. All this without asking for a cent! They wish us all the best and show us to the best way out towards of the city towards Rabat.
 
We arrive just before dark at our accommodation. A family in the old medina rents out rooms in their house through Airbnb. An authentic Moroccan experience! We meet a young Italian couple there who post videos of their travels on YouTube for a living. Go eat with them. Talk about travel and how things that go wrong create opportunities to encounter the warmth of people. Africa has once again held her hand over us today. Revealed something of herself.
 
We're still on our journey.

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