Agadir

We decided that we were ready to tackle Agadir after our stay at the Casbah, and so we consulted the map to see if we should visit anywhere along the way.

We had been told that Ouarzazate, was a 'must see' destination, along with a few colourful adjectives thrown in for good measure. We had long since learned that, beauty, is very much in the eye of the beholder and, subjective to say the least.

After consulting Google we decided that we didn't need to visit, and that we had seen many beautiful places along the way that, at the very least, compared favourably. Rightly or wrongly, we chose to head West, towards Agadir.

Again, we had been informed by others that, Agadir was a very modern place and very much a seaside resort. A little break by the sea sounded just fine to me and so I had high hopes.

When we got to Agadir, it was bedlam and, to be honest, I was by now getting a bit fed up of the chaotic traffic in the bigger towns and cities. We snailed our way along the N10 before Madame Sat' Nav' turned us right with a promise of, 'You have reached your destination on your right after 100 yards'

And indeed we had. Camping d'Agadir, straight off the busy, noisy, main road. The place was packed. It looked like a Motorhome car park, there were that many vans in there. 

Most of them were clearly going to be there for some time by the looks of things, the kitchen tents were out, safari rooms were filled with tables and chairs, and the 'don't walk near our pitch' windbreakers created the ubiquitous, passive aggressive, garden fence of the motorhoming world, every where you looked.

We were told to park at the bottom end of the site by the boundary wall, which was all that separated us from the busy, noisy, road and, oddly enough, I thought, a couple of nightclubs.

What a horrible place that site is. It cost us 100 dirhams (about 10 euros) for the night, showers were extra and, one sleepless, traffic filled night later, I'd had enough, and so had Sue. We paid up and left, declaring, to ourselves at least,  that we didn't need to see Agadir that badly.

We consulted our Morocco Camping book and headed North, along the West coast.

Next stop Tangier

We spent the night before sailing,  on a side street in Tarifa. Tarifa is a small, calm town, and we had no reservations about doing this. If you drive around you will see the odd Motorhome, doing the same.
We had been advised that this crossing, rather from Algeciras, would be a lot less hassle and this proved to be the case.

We set off for the port at 7.30am on the 14th December, to get the 9am ferry. Still dark, and a bit chilly!

Tarifa Port

By the time boarding started, it was just about daylight. A cloudy day was in prospect for southern Spain and we were now looking forward to the Moroccan sunshine.

I thought that the ferry would be heaving with people, and Motorhomes but, there was hardly anyone on it and, ours, was in fact, the only van on board. We'd heard that the French swarm in to Morocco in the winter months so, we expected to see more Motorhomes. Maybe it was just too early in the day?

Quiet ferry

On this route, Tarifa to Tangier ville, passport control is on the ferry which, while a little odd, certainly speeds up the process once you disembark.

No going back now. Next stop, Tangier!

Puerto Santa Maria & Cadiz

We had a chilled out week at Camping Playa Las Dunas in Andalucia, and why wouldn't we? We chose a shaded pitch, much to the bemusement of the man trying to park us on the dustbowl opposite the toilet block.

Promenade at Camping Las Dunas

It's a nice site and handy for the beach, shops, walking, cycling, and walking in to town but, some of the surly, disinterested staff, could do with a lesson in customer service

San Marcos Castle.

Even so, we chose to stay for a week as everything was so handy and, we would definitely return, if only for the location. We loved the town and had a great night out there.

Santa Maria by night

*******************

While we were here we decided to visit Cadiz which is only a ferry ride away, reasonably cheap to do and, makes you feel like you are on holiday.

Here comes the ferry, next stop, Cadiz!

It's a good 20 minute walk to the ferry port or, of course, you could take a cab if you're feeling lazy!

Cadiz is a lovely place and we had a very enjoyable time walking around, taking in the sights and, of course, indulging in a cappuccino outside one of the many cafes on offer.

Cadiz Cathedral

We felt that a day was enough to take most, if not all, of it in and anyway, with Harry standing guard back at the van, staying over wasn't an option.

Small tree

We finished our day with an ice cream and looked across at the cruise ships, destination already determined, and guessed where they would head for.

Destination unknown

You can sail to the Canary islands from here and we would have loved to do it but, at a return cost of nearly one thousand pounds plus, Harry having to go in a cage kennel on an open deck for four days, it would have to remain a dream.

Back to the mainland

The sun was setting as we made our way back to Puerto Santa Maria. When you have days like this, it almost makes up for some of the days where you can't help but be bored, and wonder what you're doing....almost.

Ronda Andalucia

While we were staying at Parque Tropical in Estepona, someone told us that we should visit Ronda. We are both glad that they did.

Being a good hours drive away, up in the hills, we decided to go in the van. Worse case scenario, we can stay on the camp site up there. I'd rather not if we can avoid it because it means paying for for two sites or risk losing the pitch that we are on now. Besides, at this time of year, it's not the warmest place to be, 2,425 feet uphill!

The drive up is reasonably pleasant, pootling along windy roads, ever upward. We saw plenty of 'bikers' too who are clearly drawn to the roads, thrill seekers that they are!

Ronda was established in the 9th century and, believe me, it's a glorious place to visit. The views are absolutely stunning and the whole village has a very relaxed feel to it.

Most people, once they've seen the old bridge, taken in the views, and browsed the shops, will end up in the main square, as did we. Restaurants spill out into the square and competition for your euros is keen, as are the prices.

As for the van, well we got lucky with parking and went in to a 'Pay & display' car park. We just squeezed in to a spot in front of the church but, I really don't recommend that you try to get too close if you are in a motorhome.

We also learned something else that day and, in all honestly, it's something that we should have been doing more of. Research. Wherever you visit, or stay, get on the old Interweb and find out what's worth visiting, or doing, nearby.

Tickets to Morocco

We had now made the decision to go to Morocco, and it wasn't just a case of getting Harry sorted out, we were nervous. After the shootings in Tunisia, and then, more recently, the atrocities in Paris, going to a Muslim country with 'GB' plastered on the back of a big white van, seemed like craziness.

We discussed it on more than one occasion. We talked to Mike & Carolyn, who said that we should go. 'The people, and the country are lovely' they declared.
Then we spoke to others in Spain who had recently returned, and wouldn't go back, saying that they hadn't felt safe and, that they had been more nervous, the further south they had travelled.

Much to-ing and fro-ing followed for us on the decision front, then, after one more discussion I said to Sue, 'Look, let's just go, what's the worse that can happen?' We just looked at each other and, said nothing. But, that's how terrorism works, it makes people afraid and restricts the feeling of freedom.

We decided to go. This was either going to be an amazing leg of our trip or, our untimely demise would make us family folk heroes, for generations to come.

****************** 

'Get your tickets from Carlos...'

We'd read this on a number of web sites and, it all sounded a bit shady, I must admit. 'Pssst, Go to Algeciras, see Carlos on the side street near Lidl. He'll sort you out'.... 

As you drive into Algeciras from the direction of Gibraltar you will come across plenty of little outlets selling ferry tickets to Morocco. Carlos is just another Agent who sells them but, all who have bought from him will tell you that his prices can't be beaten. So, Carlos it is then.

Carlos and his agency are a wealth of information for anyone wishing to go across to Morocco and, they make sure that you either know

'Pssst, in here mate!'

about any necessary paperwork, or, where they can, provide you with it.

He loves a bit of publicity does Carlos and, when I asked him for a picture for the blog, he couldn't have been more obliging. He rounded up any willing staff and then had us all pose outside the shop. He even checked the photo and made us take another one, as Sue hadn't got the sign above the shop in the shot!  The girl in the picture had us take yet another photo because I wasn't smiling enough! 'Smile, happy, smile, holiday' she insisted. 

One of the most important elements of the service that they provide is, selling you an 'open return' ticket. This gives you the flexibility of knowing you can come back any time, sooner or, as in a lot of cases, later, than you had planned.

Because we had to wait for Harry to get the all clear, he sold us an open ticket for both going and, coming back. He also likes to give buyers a little 'treat' which is currently a chocolate cake and a bottle of wine. How nice is that? Why would you go elsewhere?

'Come on, smile!'

That was that then, we had our tickets. Now all that remained was to get the phone call from the vet, collect the International Pet Certificate, and hold our nerve long enough to actually board the ferry!

Picos

We found a site in the acsi book in the Picos mountains and headed there. It looked lovely and, for the most part, I'd rather be in the mountains than the big city. Anywhere countryside, lake, river, but I much prefer nature to the hustle and bustle of built up areas.

La Viorna is a lovely site, high up in the hills and a bit of a trek to get to. The views of the Picos mountains makes it worthwhile though. We drove up and picked a pitch overlooking the pool. Very nice indeed.

The site was full of climber types who were there to scale the mountains, to one degree or another. Not so for us, we enjoyed the views and had a lovely cooked breakfast while they packed their gear and energy bars.

The next day we drove (ok, we could have walked) in to Potes. A very attractive village which was clearly extremely popular with tourists from home and abroad, judging by the number of coaches ferrying people in and out of the centre.

We spent the afternoon taking pictures, and taking in the lovely village before heading back for some well deserved dinner.

Potes struck me very much as a, day visit, kind of village, nothing wrong with that, there are plenty like that, the world over. Even so, it's a calm pleasant place to spend a day. Very nice indeed.

Sues' Birthday

I cycled into the nearby village to see what could be done for the birthday  girl and was delighted to find a couple of hairdressers, and a small restaurant offering a set menu for lunch. Result! Now for the card. 
I got away with 'Carte, pour la anniversaire?' in one of the shops, and came away with a bone fide french birthday card.

My plan was for Sue to get pampered at the hairdressers, then take her for lunch. Job done!

Maybe not this hairdressers eh?

True to birthday form, the next day Sue had a lie in, then took an hour to get ready and, by the time we had walked in to the village (we only had one bike at this stage!) the hairdressers had closed for lunch and, the restaurant was only doing bar snacks, as the lunchtime service had finished.

Oh well, I tried. We settled for Croque Monsieur, which was lovely, and a coke in the glorious sunshine, and it worked out just fine.

Happy Birthday Sue!

I still don't understand why this part of France is so empty of tourists at this time of the year,  as the weather is glorious but, I guess most holidays are planned around school holidays. Not to worry, all the more for us!

The next morning however, we woke up freezing cold, it was 10c in the van!

Now I get it. It was time to head further south! I'd wanted to visit Biarritz because of it's supposed glamorous past but, reading a few reviews on the web suggested to me that it wouldn't be worth it. I wasn't concerned, we would see plenty more of France the following Spring. We decided not to bother and chose instead, to head for Spain

And We're Off!

We picked up our new 'home' on Thursday afternoon and drove from Manchester to Newhaven on Saturday night in preparation for the early morning ferry.
It's not the best start, driving your shiny new motorhome through the night all that way, with tired eyes and fraying nerves. Sue was not happy that I insisted on doing the driving. Looking back, it wasn't a good idea but, to be honest, I wasn't ready to hand over the driving just yet, I hardly trusted myself to drive it, let alone anyone else!

Des' Res'

Four coffee stops and many hours later, we arrived at Newhaven with about an hour to spare. We were both exhausted and I went for a lie down on our new french bed.

Newhaven Ferry Port. Lovely, what we saw of it!

The van moving, no, being driven, brought me round and I looked up to see Sue driving towards the ferry ramp. I had a little smile and felt very proud of her. I shouldn't have worried, she wasn't fazed at all at the prospect of driving our precious vehicle.

We boarded the ferry for France on Sunday morning..... We were about as ill prepared as you could get....

We'd done some homework, of course but, the biggest part of learning is, knowing what you need to know. People can answer your questions but you have to know the right questions to ask. Not easy.  We were going to learn on the job, as it were, and I couldn't wait to get started.

The 'plan' had been to get to France then drive for a couple of hours to an Aires or site and get a good nights sleep before heading South. Our first mistake was driving through the night to get the ferry at Newhaven, not the best of starts, and anyway, the ferry was moving off, there would be no turning back now....

France

We nodded off and drank coffee in equal measure on the ferry, there wasn't much else to do and, even if there was, we wouldn't have had the energy. It was a lovely day for it, and so we spent most of the time in the sunshine on deck.

Could have been worse, at least I'm not drooling

When we landed at Dieppe, we found our second wind and settled in for the long drive ahead. We drove for a while expecting that the Aires would make themselves known as we went along. That didn't happen and we ended up at a motorway services for a toilet break, well, we still didn't know how our toilet 'worked'. After a while we realised that, for this day at least, it wasn't going to happen. We decided to bed down for the night and start afresh the next day. 

We spent the night, unmolested, at the service station, although I don't recommend that you do the same, just in case.

Day one under our belt, such as it was, and out first dodgy 'wild camp' to boot. Not bad for beginners. The next morning, somewhat refreshed, we consulted the ACSI app and made tracks for our first bona fide site.



We were not prepared for how far away from, anything and everything, these places could be. All the same, we had no real expectations so it wasn't until we looked back some weeks later, that we realised how poor that first site was. I won't name it because these things are subjective and, after all, there were a few other people on the site who seemed happy enough.

********************

We spent only one night there before setting off to a site on the banks of the Dordogne. Camping du pont de Vico.
.
It was a sight to behold. Some of the pitches faced out across the river and, I'm sure had it been July or August, they would all have been taken.  I might get used to this if all the sites are this lovely!

Reception & Bar. Clever planning!

As it was, we didn't see this until the following morning because after checking in, we got chatting with the guy running the bar, which resulted in a couple of pastis, some lively banter and, before we knew it, it was dark!

We drove on to the nearest pitch and settled in feeling very relaxed and ready for our first proper sleep since we left the UK.

This will do for tonight

The next morning we had a go at emptying the grey waste and, finally figured out how to get the toilet cassette out of it's slot, for emptying. It's on wheels and has an extending handle to pull it along with, who knew?!

Next, we had a walk down to the river and immediately decided to move the van, quite right too. Who doesn't want a view of the river in the morning?

It's easy to move when you only have 2 chairs!

The site was really quiet, there was only one other couple on there. I guess that mid to late September really is the low season. In fact, it turned out to be a bit of a race against time for us as our ACSI book showed that a lot of the sites would close their doors at the end of September, until the following Spring.

The River Dordogne. Peaceful & calm yet deserted.

We decided to spend a few nights and try to work out how everything worked on the van at our leisure, besides, Sues' birthday was a couple of days away, and I hadn't even got a card!....Read more  

Collecting the van

When we went to collect the van the following Thursday, it was all laid out just waiting for us.
The awning was out to it's fullest and the guys there were running a test on the newly fitted Gaslow system, and had the habitation heating on. It can throw some heat out alright and it was almost too warm inside!

We were given a full handover which included showing us how things worked. You remember the first three things then, after item eleven, it all becomes a blur. There was no way we were going to remember half of this, I saw much perusing of the handbooks and manuals ahead of us.

We went in to the office to finalise the deal and pay the outstanding balance, of a Kings ransom, for the van.
Quick pointer, tell your bank in plenty of time if you are planning to pay a large amount via your debit card in one hit. They still get you on the phone, probably to make sure that you are not involved in a hostage situation, and ask various security questions, but it does make the process a lot smoother.


'That's it then, all done, now I've got to wait four days for the money to be processed' complained the seller. Not being known for my sarcasm, I just replied. 'Oh my heart bleeds for you.

We were talking about our plans to travel when one of the guys in the sales office asked when we were headed for the continent. I told him, 'This coming Sunday' he raised an eyebrow then asked me if we'd had a Motorhome before, I told him that we hadn't and he raised his eyebrow further and said,
'So, this is your first motorhome, and your first trip out in it will start in France?Oh, you are brave...'

Decision made.

I know, it made me think a little too. Hey ho, that's what we are going to do just as soon as we get the van packed.

We took the keys and set off in our precious new possession. I felt like I was on my driving test again, nervous doesn't come close!

We were going to park the van on my sisters driveway, (thanks Jenny & Gary Watkinson)  until Saturday night when we would depart for the, now booked, ferry to France! There was no where else to park it, I was staying with my dear Mum, thanks a million for putting up with me for 3 weeks! and there was no chance of it fitting on the driveway there. Sue was staying at her sisters place with Harry, thanks Carol Luscombe, and Howard McDermott, and the driveway there was out of the question as well.
Now all that was left was to pack, load the van and, hit the road! 

Done deal

The van, a Ford Transit Carioca 200 CI, was just over 6 metres in length, plus a bike rack. Two boxes ticked, bike rack and, not too long.
I was wary of driving one these things as it was, without it being 7 or 8 metres long. 

Carioca? Never heard of it...

It had a fixed bed. Hang on, we'd dismissed every fixed bed van that we'd looked at, out of hand because too much floor space was taken up by the bed....Ok, moving on. The cupboard doors were a high gloss finish, a finish that would never been seen in our kitchen at home because, 'old people had them'. 

In the van though, they worked really well. The main thing for me was that it was a 2012 with only 7500 miles on the clock, and a Ford to boot. Less chance of things going wrong at this age and, surely, worth a premium.

Interior of the Carioca ci 200

We thanked our helper and disappeared to the pub to have a chat about it. Nothing else had come close that we'd seen. Nothing under 45k anyway! We made our decision and were back within the hour. 

Fixed bed eh? OK, I'll go with that...

*******************

We negotiated the fitting of a Gaslow system,

full service, and new MOT into the price and the deal was done. The MOT was good until March but we already knew that we had to come back to the UK when the MOT was due and the UK in March was definitely not part of our plans. 

Gaslow, a god-send!

Now we wouldn't have to come back until September unless we wanted to avoid the crazy high season

We left a deposit and were told that the van would be 'ready' the following week.

That gave us one week to prepare for our maiden voyage, as it were. We also had to sell both cars, keeping one of them to make the trip back, and collect the van. It was going to be manic, to say the least!

Thank god for places like 'We buy any car'. You won't get the same amount of money as you might in a private sale but, it is a great solution when you want to sell your car at the last minute. The service we used is based in Sharston and, it couldn't have been easier! They gave us a better quote than We buy any car and, the process was as easy as could be. We were in and out in fifteen minutes with the promise of a bank transfer by the end of the day. They were as good as their word.

Now all we had to do was keep hold of my car until the following week when we had been to collect the van.... 

Picking the van

We ended up with our Carioca ci 200 quite by chance and, I suspect like many others, because it just felt, and perhaps more importantly, smelled, right when we stepped inside. We had seen a Starblazer on the web in Somerset that looked like it might fit the bill but, we wanted to see one closer to home rather than drive all that way from Manchester, only to be disappointed. 

Example of the Autotrail Starblazer

We spotted another about an hour away in Wem and had a drive out to have a look.

It was a 2007 and the asking price was close to 29k. We were thoroughly disappointed. It was shabby, at best, and had a lingering odour. Bits were broken here and there and, it had been well 'used' by the previous owners. The drivers seat felt a bit narrow for my liking and nothing looked as spacious as it did in the photos, except for the 'garage' which I was particularly keen on. No, this wasn't for us.

We looked around 4 other vehicles with a very patient gent who was showing us around with no apparent sales pressure at all. We gave up. They all fell short and I couldn't help but feel that none of them offered value for money.

I now know that, that's how it is. Motorhomes are very expensive and, after a certain point from new, they hold a substantial portion of their price, very well indeed.

******************

We were in the car park and got Harry out so he could get some fresh air, stretch his legs and, urinate 40 times in 40 places, just because.

That's where the more expensive vehicles were parked. We hadn't even stopped to look on our way in. Now Sue was peering in through the window of the locked van. At that moment, our helpful salesman passed with two loaded carrier bags, on his way back to the office. 'Do you want to have a look inside?' he offered

helpfully. 'No no, thanks anyway'. I shot back, 'We're just letting the dog stretch his legs, we've taken enough of your time'.

'It's fine, no trouble, I'll just get the keys'. I shot Sue a 'look', but she just smiled and said, 'What can it hurt?' He arrived back with the keys and we stepped inside, Sue first. 'Ohh, I like this!' I followed behind and could see why. It was pristine and, smelled brand new. We were in trouble now....

The Van

'Motorhome? Not for me, thanks!'

Over several months, we had looked at several hundred (I kid you not) motor homes, either up close and personal or, as in most cases, on the internet. The choice was bewildering, some of the prices, even more so! We quickly realised that, we knew what we liked, we also realised, just as quickly, that we couldn't afford what we liked! Silly money was being asked, even for an old builders van with 120k on the clock that had been, 'converted'. We learned to spot, and dismiss, those very quickly.

Also the ones with names. Maybe I'm wrong but, any advert that started with, 'We are reluctantly parting with 'Dolly/Daisy/Colin/Sebastien' or just about any cutesy name you could think of, rang alarm bells with me.

For reluctant sale. Much loved, Daisy Tinkerbell....

I also bought my first book from Vicarious Books entitled, 'Go Motorhoming and Caravanning' I read it from cover to cover and, at the end of it, I'd been put off the idea, completely! 

All this talk of grey water, black water, fresh water, drinking water, watts, amps, voltage, amp-hours. MIRO's, payloads, etc. Talk of people being gassed in their vans and being robbed or, just being robbed, what? How complicated and/or dangerous was this thing called motor homing? No sir, this is definitely Not for me!

The Decision

"If we don't do it now, we never will."

How many times have you heard that? Moreover, how many times have you said it yourself?

If you are anything like us, the answer will be, plenty!  The time to stop 'saying' and start 'doing' arrived for us during, yet another, cold, damp, dark winter.

We were fed up with our jobs and, like many others, I'm sure, just felt as though we were trapped on a cycle of going to work to pay the bills, replacing things as they wore out and , settling for our two weeks in the sun, at a cost, or, if we were lucky, maybe another week in the winter.

"There has to be more to life than this?"

Looking back, it was a simple question, wrapped in a few facts, that led to us making, what we hoped would be, our life changing decision. The facts read like this:

• You've got a nice new car, which you love.
• You live in a nice detached house with views of the countryside
• Your wardrobe spilleth over (not me, obviously) 
• We get to take one or two foreign holidays, every year.
• For the most part, you enjoy your job, even though it makes you more tired than it used to.
• Are you happy?

The answer, obviously, was an emphatic 'No' So what do we do about it? There are no guarantees for happiness, of course, but if you don't try to change something, one thing is for sure, nothing is going to change.

We'd always talked in the past about how lovely it would be to sell up and travel. That idea never goes away but, it nearly always gets put on the back burner as other things in your life have to be dealt with, work etc, and once the wine wears off, it never seems as glamorous an idea, as it did the night before.

And then there was social conditioning: You, get married, buy a house, have kids, have two weeks a year in the sun, and you go to work and pay your taxes, the same as everybody else. Travelling around in a motor-home? No sir, that's not what normal people do.

Even so, it still, never completely, goes away.

This time though, we explored the idea a little further. A voluntary redundancy scheme was operating at work and, if we could sell the house, now would be as good a time as ever to take advantage of it.

The house was valued and put on the market and redundancy figures were obtained from work. Both figures added up to, not as much as we would have liked but, do-able. We could afford to do it if....and it was a big if, we stuck to a tight budget and had a very large slice of luck.

Nervous? You don't know the half of it! It's a huge step to take and all of your instincts are screaming, 'don't do it!'