September 11, 2014
Thursday: 46 Km before Ar Rachilda to Erfoud.
I was awake and standing outside the tent earlier looking up at a starry sky over the dark outline of rocky escarpment above the campsite and a wisp of cloud directly overhead reflecting light from bright spotlights around the grounds.
The girl in the restaurant the evening before stopped me as I left. Messeur! What time would you like breakfast in the morning? Seven, I reply unsure, then in a moment reconsider, seeing I don't get up to around seven-thirty these mornings, "...make it between seven-thirty and eight"
When I wake again it is daylight. I'm feeling tired and could do with staying put in the tent for longer. I don't have a working watch. I depend on the cycle-computer for telling the time. But the sun hasn't risen yet so it is still early.
The sun rises at seven-thirty. I still stay put laying on top of the open sleeping-bag, but shortly the tent is becoming unendurable from the sun's heat and I sit up and dress to escape the feel of sweat oozing out and pouring down my chest. Like being inside a sauna.
When I walk in there is one other guest waiting for breakfast. A fortysomething Moroccan business type from some city somewhere. He looks up briefly from a smart phone and greets me and I sit down at the next table. A few minutes later his colleague enters, takes a seat beside him and they converse in French between themselves. Breakfast comes out shortly after.
I down a big glass of freshly squeezed orange juice to quench my thirst. I put the glass down and refill it then pour a cup of coffee and take both to my table where the breakfast-man has set a plate of crepes, basket of bread, small bowls of honey and jam.
When I get up to pay and leave, I assume there'll be little change out of two-hundred Derhams, but am pleasantly surprised to hear breakfast is included in the camping price, so I owe a hundred and ten in total for dinner and camping. A bargain at ten euros.
I set off at quarter to nine. Following the canyon on the road twists, rises and drops with greenery of the river below on the right for ten kilometres more to a village straddling the river. I cruise down and cross a bridge spanning the river and begin climbing. The road on is a straight line across the hillside where a wider valley opens, reaching and skirting along its cliff-side before cresting a flank with a long descent ahead, as the valley spreads out to the right with a large seemingly deep lake coming into view down the slope on the left. The water cristal clear but at the same time a smoky hew contrast with barren light brown hills rising round the far perimmeter, and no greenery at all along its near shore.
The rest of the way to Er Rachilda is gradual downhill towards an ochre flat horizon on all three sides and the temperature rises considerably with the lower altitude.
I join N10 in Ar Rachilda which is the main thoroughfare through what is quite a sizable city.
I stop for coffee at a nice café with a garden seating area, sitting beneath palms and with the tinkle of a fountain.
It is thirsty table flat desert ahead I suppose. But at one o'clock I reach a Berber craft shop and restaurant and from the balcony eating area in front, I'm suddenly stroke by the view. I see what I hadn't seen from the road nor parking area where I pulled in. An opening across the desert, the road on descending down into a canyon bottoming out in a forest of palm trees which would continue along the canyon and be my companion for the rest of the day to Erfoud.
I met Karla and friends the afternoon before. Another car that pulled over offering me an excursion into the Sahara sand dunes. Also said he runs a tourist complex with camping and all facilities on the way into Erfoud, so the campsite is where I headed for today. A large plot enclosed by high walls and well shaded with clumps of palm trees.
Today's ride: 107 km (66 miles)
Total: 5,466 km (3,394 miles)
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