We started cycling at 6:15 am when the sun was already out. We tried to enjoy the first hour because it was the only time we could ride comfortably. At the top of the mountain, there was a huge pile of trash with hundreds of birds. The closer we got to Fes, the more noticeable the trash problem became.
We were cycling very slowly, taking breaks every half hour. We applied sunscreen and soaked our clothes with water to cool down. By 8 am, it was already 35 degrees. We wanted to have our first brunch break and buy some bread and cheese. We stopped somewhere, and they asked for 30 dirhams for bread, which is 300% more than the normal price. A few meters later, we bought bread from a tuk-tuk for 2 dirhams. 

A few kilometers down the road, we saw a truck selling dairy products to local supermarkets. We asked if we could buy some locally made cheese, and it was very delicious.
We continued and started searching for a place where we could have a private breakfast break. This was almost mission impossible because people often wanted to invite us over. When we tried to sit somewhere, an old man came to us and insisted we come to his home.

In Morocco, when someone invites you, it’s hard to say no. When Moroccans invite you for tea and you accept, you end up with a table full of olives, cheese, special very delicious peanut butter with oregano oil, and homemade butter. The hospitality is incredible.

Grandfather Mohammad wanted to take a photo of his grandson sitting on the bike, but I think Ayman, the grandson, was not really happy, as you can see in the photo.

We continued to the next village, Bni Ahmad Al Garbia, hoping to have a long break under a tree as the temperature soared to 43 degrees by 12 pm. A man and a woman came to us with a goat and tried to force Sandra to milk it. We tried our best, in all the languages we knew, to politely decline, but when they finally understood, they clearly demanded money.

We continued and tried to find another place to take a break. Closer to the city, we sat in a café with an okay Wi-Fi connection.

A very annoying 20-year-old sat down in front of us, making hand signals we couldn’t understand. I asked clearly how I could help him. Sandra was on the phone with a friend when he came up to me and asked if we needed weed. I said no.

Near the café was a barbershop owned by Mohammad. We sat down in his shop because it was cooler than the heat outside, and he had a fan. He was cutting the hair of Abdulhadi, a businessman who had a good job in Morocco but wanted to go to Europe. there’s always one person in the chat who thinks they know everything, and people believe them. For example, they believed the government was tracking us and paying for our trip, despite my repeated denials. I eventually gave up trying to correct them.

Mohammad asked a regular question in Morocco, if I was Muslim, followed with many other questions—why, and how—but we had to continue. Around 7 pm, the temperature finally dropped to 40 degrees. The problem was that we were ascending from 600 meters to 650 meters, which meant a direct increase in temperature by 4 degrees. The temperature drops by about 6 degrees Celsius for every 1000-meter rise in altitude. Going downhill was as hard as climbing with a bike, putting a lot of pressure on the arms and mind. With almost 150 kg, it’s not easy, but the Magura brakes are doing well so far.

Down in the valley, it was scorching. The sun was setting, and it was still 41 degrees. The road became very bad, full of holes. While riding, a woman and her daughter started waving at us. We waved back and asked if we could have some water, but they tried to tell us something.

I looked back and realized I had lost my sleeping mattress. The girl came to us and took the bottles to refill them. We asked if we could sleep on their property tonight. She said she didn’t know and had to ask her brother. Her brother, Riza, came and said, “No problem, make yourself at home.” The view was amazing.
We were very happy to meet this beautiful family. They lost their father many years ago, and the mother and the big brother Riza, who quit school, are responsible for them. Riza can’t sleep much because he has to take care of the weed plants, which he officially grows to resell to the government. However, he has to watch them 24/7 so nobody steals from them.

We had a good sleep and woke up with the puppies sleeping under our tent, close to our heads.