Born to be Wild

Meraid on Aprilla motorbike 1000cc

After the first burst of acceleration, my hands moved further forwards and I began to wonder where they were placed. Am I holding his crotch? I wondered. I moved my hands back slowly towards his waist and slipped them around again. Does he think I’m feeling him up? I tried keeping my fingers still, but they wiggled as if they had a mind of their own.

To the Waters and the Wild

meraid crossing a river

Safely across and buzzing from the rush, I walked for a while. My legs in disco mode, shaking unstoppably. It wasn’t long till there was another river, shallower, narrower and easier to cross than the first.

Doing the Funky Chicken on the road to Taroudant

cactus hedge

To tell you the truth, I’m not sure if I wanted one or not, but I always feel a bit apprehensive before setting out on a ride that takes me into the hunger zone, which for me is about two hours. Interestingly, there are thousands of shops and cafes in Morocco, probably tens of thousands, maybe even millions and they’re scattered all over the place. Yet still, I have a fear of starvation,

Marrakech and a change of plan

Bikepacking Marrakech

There is nowhere like Jemaa el Fna square in Morocco. It might even be safe to say that there is nowhere like it in the world! And it’s at night that it comes alive. Storytellers, musicians, henna artists, cigarette and tissue sellers, fortune tellers and a man wearing a brown and cream striped djelaba, demonstrating how pink sparkly fairy wings should be worn.