After recovering, we continued along the ocean toward Guelmim, which is considered the gateway to the desert.
We took a sand piste, which was a nice experience as it allowed us to cycle along the ocean again.

Since the food poisoning incident, I’ve been very careful with food and water. I still wonder how we managed to survive almost three months in Morocco, drinking water from everywhere and never buying bottled water.
Eventually, we arrived at a campsite owned by German and Moroccan owner. We normally avoid such campsites because they’re very expensive. However, the owner was incredibly kind. When we asked about pitching our tent, he simply said, “Don’t worry, just pitch it.” He turned out to be a very funny and nice person, always making jokes.

The last hill in Morocco—we had to climb 600 meters. Somehow, we’ve developed a routine: wake up, have breakfast, cycle, refill water, take a break, cycle, snack break, cycle, heat break, cycle, and search for a sleeping place… and so on.

On the way, we met a French cyclist who was in a hurry. But when he heard that I’m originally from Syria, the break ended up being longer. He used to work in Syria at the French embassy, so we shared memories and had a nice conversation about Syria before continuing our journey.
We had heard from the another French cyclist that we met in the mountains that they were planning to arrive in Mirleft today, so we decided to meet them there and spend the night together.

Cycling at sunset was amazing, with the first tailwind and fresh, not-too-hot weather. Since we already knew where we’d be sleeping that night, we kept cycling even as the sun was setting.
The hostel was basic but offered a decent night’s sleep, knowing it was probably our last opportunity to sleep on mattresses before entering the Sahara.

We’ve been a bit nervous about entering the desert, as from now on the stretches are at least more than 150 km of nothing but sand and desert. so we had to Emergency supply, from Guelmim we bought enough basics ”Pasta, Oat, some fresh fruit” After 30 km, we had our first stop, thanks to a motorcyclist named Sam, who had just returned from his journey to Dakar. He stopped to check on us and asked if we needed anything. He kindly offered us some valuable sweets, and we offered him an orange in return.

the road was really good new two lanes made street allowed us a to cycle relaxed from the stress of the car driving by us.
We arrived in Tan Tan after cycling 135 km, just around sunset. We entered a nearby camp and were immediately welcomed by a few men who offered us to stay for free.

“ You know… We are Sahrawi… You can stay here for free, and you are safe,”
Samer Told me

We found an empty room under still instruction, pitched our tent, and later joined Samer and his friends for tea in the Sahrawi tent. Afterwards, we cooked some pasta and enjoyed dinner with a view of Tan Tan’s lights from the 50-meter-high hill before heading to sleep.

it’s hard to ignore the political stories that shape the land we’re riding on. One of the most complex and long-standing disputes in the region is the Western Sahara conflict.
The conflict began in the 1970s after Spain withdrew from the territory. Morocco claimed sovereignty over Western Sahara, but the local Sahrawi people—led by the independence movement called the Polisario Front—wanted to form their own country: the Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic.
Since then, the region has been contested. Morocco controls most of the land and has built a huge sand wall (the “Moroccan Berm”) to keep Polisario fighters out. The Sahrawis, many of whom live in refugee camps in Algeria, continue to push for a UN-backed referendum on independence—something that’s been delayed for decades.
The UN still considers Western Sahara a “non-self-governing territory,” meaning its future remains unresolved. Sporadic violence still occurs, and political tensions remain high, even if the area is generally calm for travellers. Morocco considers it part of its territory, while some African countries recognize the Sahrawi Republic.

anyway, The military presence on the road and at checkpoints is higher than usual.

The weather is getting more pleasant—mostly cloudy the highest it gets around 29 degrees.
From now on, the only things we see regularly are the cell towers that appear from time to time, sometimes being painted by workers in very precarious conditions.
We stopped to photograph the first wild flamingo we’ve seen in Africa. Sandra had to call her best friend, as she had promised to always stop and make a video call whenever she saw a flamingo, no matter the road conditions or where we were.

We stopped somewhere on km 65 to ask for the toilet but nobody responded even at the police station. A dog started running aggressively toward Sandra no reaction except staring at us from the few menstandingg there and the police officer who only knew how to say no where should I find your toilet.

We arrived in Akhfenir late at sunset. There was no suitable place to pitch our tent, but we found a hostel where the owner met us on the street with his motorcycle and invited us in. He was a really kind man who loves both cyclists and motorcyclists.
He offered us a cozy room for a small fee, but we still haven’t managed to transfer the money to him. The sunset was absolutely majestic.
I’m always amazed by how stunning each sunrise and sunset is in the desert.
We cycled around 120 km today, and it was a pleasant ride. After arriving, I went shopping, cooked dinner, and enjoyed a good night’s sleep on a soft mattress bed.

We’ve started experiencing the Sahara wind, and thankfully, it’s mostly tailwind. It’s so pleasant to have a tailwind—it makes the extra 50 km we need to cover today much easier.
Our visit to Tarfaia port was amusing, as we had to show our passports to the police at the gate. They seemed quite confused about our visit:

Me: “We’re looking for the historic fish factory island.”
Police officer: “Fish factory? Hmm… Hamid, do we have a fish factory here?”
Hamid: “I don’t know… What is a fish factory?”
Me: “Okay, is it allowed to visit the port, or should we just continue?”
Police officer: “Sure, you’re welcome… but why?”
Me: “We just want to take a look.”
Police officer: “Okay.”

Later, a 10-year-old boy cycled with us and explained everything, eventually showing us where the fish factory was.
We passed more fishing villages along the road, easily identified by the thousands of birds present around them.
We arrived shortly before sunset at a gas station near the official/non-official Western Sahara border (depending on your perspective) and decided to stay the night there.
Gas stations here are extremely loud because they are always busy. The workers explained that gas is cheaper here, so people bring pickups equipped with tanks, fill them up, and resell the fuel inside Morocco.

We cycled and cycled and cycled today, eventually arriving at El Marsa. We decided not to visit Laayoune.
In El Marsa, we took a lunch break, using the opportunity to achieve the historic milestone of cycling 200 km in a single day for the first time in our lives.
The wind was blowing at 50–60 km/h. Even though the weather was cloudy, we made the mistake of not using sunscreen, so we ended up with a sunburn.
As the sun was setting, we still didn’t know where we could pitch our tent for the night. I remembered from other cyclists’ blogs that they sometimes asked to camp near cell towers.
Today was the longest day of cycling—exactly 200 km—thanks to the strong tailwind. At the exact 200 km mark, we arrived at a cell tower and tried to convince the worker there to let us camp nearby, somewhere protected from the wind.
However, he seemed hesitant and said, “If you were Moroccan, I’d let you inside, but I can’t.”
In the end, we pitched our tent inside a sheltered area beside to the security guy 10 m from the cell tower , protected from the heavy wind.

Cycling the Sahara is not as bad as we expected. The weather is pleasant, but the only challenge is that there’s nothing to provide shade or shelter from the sun. So, it’s just cycling, taking short breaks, cycling again, and repeating this pattern.
The main decision we had to make was whether to skip Dakhla.
Dakhla is a large city located 40 km down a peninsula. If we went there, it would mean cycling 40 km against a 50 km/h headwind, which would cost us an entire day and a lot of energy.
We weren’t entirely sure about our decision until we reached one of the many small military villages scattered across the Sahara. These villages typically have small shops, but the selection is very limited. In these shops, we could only find pasta and some cookies, which ended up being our companions for the entire road.
The people in these military villages aren’t the most welcoming.
We took our midday break in El Argoub a ghost town. Everything was empty, and it was probably once a village for military families.

While cycling, we suddenly saw signs for the Tropic of Cancer. It is the most northern latitude on Earth where the sun can appear directly overhead.