December 2015 was a wet and gloomy Berlin winter.
This was the perfect excuse to continue the annual tradition of our 8 bar adventures.
This time we were looking for something more adventurous, a place none of us had visited
before, with unfamiliar roads, breathtaking nature, high mountains, wide deserts and bustling
old cities.
Our plan was to cross the Atlas Mountains in Morocco.
We fly to Marrakesh.
The dusty air is filled with noise, honks, the smell of colorful spices and grilled meats.
Here the journey begins.
The idea is to cross the Atlas Mountain Range directly across its southern face.
Then, taking another route, we will return to Marrakesh.
In total, the triple measure over 840 kilometers with an overall altitude of 12,000 meters.
With our return flights already booked, we got 8 days for the whole tour.
This means a little over 100 kilometers per day.
Should be possible, right?
Just outside the ancient city wall, we spot a rocky formation at the horizon, the Atlas
Mountain.
We're completely on our own without a support vehicle, which means that we have to carry
our photos, video equipment in our already heavy bags.
Once out of the city, we don't think we'll meet many people, so we pack the tent, light
cooking gear and are planning to be as independent as possible.
Here the sun sets before 6 o'clock, so in the late afternoon we finally decide to look
for a place to sleep.
We find the perfect spot, unfortunately, it's across a small river.
We really didn't get far today, just about 60 kilometers, but it's just the first day,
so that should be okay.
The night is very quiet and peaceful, and the crackling campfire warms us.
We have a lot of catching up to do, a second day starts early in the morning, the streets
are covered in dust.
Last night we prepared our dinner over campfire, today we want to buy some spirits for our
cooker.
As it turns out, it's quite tricky, because Morocco is an Islamic country, it is hard
to find alcohol based liquids.
We end up buying the wrong type more than once.
Once we get off the main road, the adventure starts.
The trails are much steeper than we thought and impossible to bike on, we even had a hard
time walking the steep path.
Should we have prepared better?
Is this the kind of adventure we were looking for?
We pass villages made of the same red clay as the hills, the houses are almost hidden.
Is this Earth?
Is this Mars?
They're not tight biking dress and futuristic helmets, we might look like aliens.
Still, we're greeted with curious and friendly looks wherever we go.
After hours and hours of walking, pushing and climbing, we only managed to cover 40
km on the second day.
In two days, we didn't even get half as far as we planned.
We begin to wonder if it's still possible to complete the journey in the next six days.
It isn't looking very promising, shortcuts are not really an option, only a limited number
of routes lead over the ridge of the Atlas Mountain.
On the morning of the third day, we start uphill.
The main road is busy, but we have no other choice.
The Chichinchika Pass is the only road over the Atlas Mountains in this area.
Still, after yesterday, we're just happy to be able to get on our bikes again and speed
up and down the serpentine's curves of the mountains.
It seems like everything is dyed red, no wait, the goats that stroll between the curves
of the hills are still black and white.
In the afternoon, we reach an abandoned fortress called Kasta.
The mud castles were built with thick walls of layered clay.
They have withstood the test of time for hundreds of years now.
What a perfect third day, every possible way.
When we packed our bags back in Berlin, we thought we brought along everything we could
imagine eating, but no, of course we forgot one crucial thing, the dust and dirt have
stuck to our chains.
Luckily, we find some oil at a local car mechanic to stop the squeaking and get them
running smoothly again.
Today's route take us along the southern side of the Atlas Mountains.
Even if yesterday went great, it will still need to cover a lot of ground, so we decide
to travel only on bigger roads in good condition, take only short breaks and cut down on filming.
Who would have guessed how time consuming it is to film when you don't have a camera
following you on a motorbike?
We start day five at the bottom of the Dades Gorge on one of the most famous roads for
cyclists in Morocco.
We know that today will be challenging and our map shows us a steady incline for about
70 kilometers.
At first we thought the Moroccan car drivers are annoyed by our presence, but actually
most of them are waving at us, giving us big thumbs up and honking so we can.
The deeper we get into the mountains, the fewer people we see.
Suddenly, in the middle of nowhere, we meet an old barber in his traditional robe who
is selling fossils.
We stop and talk to him.
He tells us that his wife has injured her foot when a rock fell on it.
Luckily we have what she needs in our first aid kit and are happy to help him.
In the late afternoon, we reach the highest point of our tour at nearly 3,000 meters above
sea level.
It is freezing cold and windy up here.
Our thermometer shows a chilly negative two degrees.
Camping isn't really an option since we only brought lightweight hiking equipment.
The next village is 25 kilometers away and the fear of the cold is more than the dark,
so full speed ahead, but hopefully there is a room for us.
Slowly our once shiny bikes are covered by the color of the earth around us.
On day six, we ride along a plateau of the Atlas Mountains and stay above the 2,000 meter
mark all day.
In the morning, we meet very few people, but one man is especially curious.
He wants to try and ride our bikes.
Unfortunately, none of us speaks French, but after a few days on the road, we feel more
comfortable communicating.
In the next village, we stock up on our food supply and double check our upcoming route
with some locals, just in case.
Ok, much easier.
Against a background of red clay and grey dust, bright painted doors and colorful carpets
hanging to dry really stand out.
It is impressive to see people living so simplistically.
In these small villages, everything is done by hand.
We stopped at a local shop to refill our water bottles.
It doesn't take long for a group of kids to approach us.
With our modern bikes and bright jerseys, we are the center of attention.
Unfortunately, we didn't bring anything extra to share with the kids, but it looks like
they are pretty happy with our 8 bar stickers.
Riding out of the mountains on the 7th day, the landscape changed drastically.
Yesterday, there was open desert and sand.
Today, we passed green trees and crossed an enormous blue artificial lake on the Bin El
by Dan Dam.
The dam is a curved shape, 130 meter high construction built in the 1950s.
We wish we had time to take a swim.
We leave the Atlas mountains behind and are on our way back to Marrakech, with 170 kilometers
to go, a strong headwind and just one day left before a return flight to Germany, we
really aren't sure we can make it.
Again, we had to cut down on filming, sightseeing and snack stops to speed up.
As the sun starts to set, we reach the outskirts of Marrakech.
We're greeted by the delicious smells of grilled meat mixed with a deafening clutter
of car and motorcycle honks.
After spending past 8 days in near total silence and calmness, the city's noise is overwhelming.
We're happy to have been able to complete our journey in time, but feel a bit sad as
the trip is nearly over.
Of course, carrying our bikes over rocks and cliffs wasn't really what we had in mind
on this time of trip.
We certainly would not have scheduled a 15 kilometer walk over rocky terrain.
We didn't even want to go to places accessible only by donkeys.
But looking back at it, there was exactly these little detours, there were the highlights
of our journey.
The brothers closer to the land and in the end, those surprises brought us what we were
looking for, an adventure off the beaten path.
