Aouril: a day to forget

THERE IS NOTHING to say of today except that it was horrible. We spent all day on a busy road, unappealing and often dangerous. We rode 110km of flat coastal highway to Agadir, a town rebuilt after an earthquake flattened it, and then on to a smaller town called Aouril.

The idea was to get us to the foot of the hills ready for what's promised to be glorious countryside. But we resented every minute. It didn't help that I got myself dehydrated, although that was solved by a litre and a half of water drunk while sitting on the steps of a mosque.

I rode better after that. But tonight I still don't feel good. I can't face eating and I'm going to go to bed. Tomorrow, we'll see.

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