We woke up at 5am, thankfully, after 7 hours of deep and uninterrupted sleep. We were back on the road after a quick cup of coffee so that we could make the port at least 2 hours before the 11am ferry departure.
Early morning thick fog had settled over the toll road from Skhirat to Moulay Bousselham but was steamed away as the sun rose from behind the hills. It was a fairly stressful but uneventful drive until we were 30 minutes outside of Tanger Med ferry port.
As we crossed a high exposed bridge over a valley, we were once again (reminiscent of the winds over the high bridges outside Genoa, Italy) hit by an unexpectedly strong and vicious cross wind. We were blown into the fast lane as Kaya’s high sides bore the brunt of the wind and the gorgeous Mr T for a millionth of a second lost control of the steering wheel. A loud tearing sound came from the back of the motorhome as he swiftly regained control and we were back in the slow lane. We weren’t able to stop to investigate what had caused the noise as we were on the toll road (no other cars around, fortunately!). But as we exited the toll road at the ferry port, we stopped to investigate and found that our glass solar panel and the legs had been ripped off the roof.
Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck. We were tired, exhausted and stressed and now this? Aaaarrghhhhhh.
A quick check showed no major damage to Kaya’s roof, thank goodness!! The legs had been No-nailed on and that has failed. We had also had no damage to the solar wiring as the 2nd panel had been attached on the roof using connectors and the cable had been ripped out but left behind the undamaged connectors. And somewhere on a toll road or in a valley in Morocco, a panel lies, probably broken, but sure to be re-used and re-purposed by some industrious Moroccan somewhere. Ah well, such is life.
After collecting our tickets, a quick look by Moroccan Customs under the enormous scanner at the port and we were sitting in the queue ready to board and cross over to Spain. Phew. Border crossing days are normally stressful but we had already had our stress allotted for the day, so the border crossing was a doddle in comparison.
After a 1 hour drive in Spain and several more cups of cortado, we settled ourselves up in Las Dunas campsite in El Puerto de Santa Maria as the sun dipped behind the sea in a cloudless sky.
We had been talking about it being 5th January and the 3 Kings Festival in Spain – this is the Spanish version of our Christmas where the children receive their gifts and families gather to celebrate the day together. We were tired, a bit shell-shocked and it had been a long day……but Spain was calling and we were hungry for some tapas and a fiesta. A quick shower and change and we were off on our bicycles into town.
Catching some sweets
A few more sherries