Season 2 – The Prelude

Marrakech, Morroco

Stole the title from a comment from Reader Diana B. (Sorry about that Diana . . . Now, I might have argued that we’re on Season 3, or even 4. Could have said the U.S. was Season 1, Central America was Season 2, and South America was Season 3. But Season 2 just seems easier . . .)

Anyway, the main point of today’s post is to give you a little idea of where we’ve been and where we are going – or, I guess, planning to go to . . . 

Now, it might take a few days to figure out this new place – Morroco. 

On the map it kind of seems like South America is kind of close to Africa. 

It’s not. 

I mean, maybe it was close a couple million or billion years ago – when the monkeys sailed on their vegetative raft – but what with the continental drift and all it’s kind of far now . . .

After a few Google searches I learned that Ushuaia is about 7,000 miles from Marrakech. Of course, we didn’t fly directly to Marrakech. We first went to Frankfurt – which was sad, because I think we flew directly over Marrakech on the way to Frankfurt – and then flew on a separate plane back to Marrakech – the tourist capital of Morroco. 

(What they need to do is start issuing parachutes to the passengers. You jump out when you want to, unleash your parachute, and go right to your destination. Probably avoid the taxis and traffic and everything at the airport too. Could be a new airline concept. Now, I’m not sure I’m interested in this particular business at this point in my career, but if someone wants to buy the idea from me I would probably listen . . .)

All told, we flew about 10,800 miles – which took about 24 hours of flying time – and about 29 total hours. Kind of crazy – because it took us about seven months to bike that far. 

I always get nervous showing up with the bikes at a new airport. It’s not like all airports are set up for cycling. Like JFK or LaGuardia in New York. You don’t just bike away . . .

But, no problem. We walked out the door, took the bikes out of the boxes, put them back together, left the bike boxes, and started pedaling. 

Just like that. No hassles. No highways. You just take local roads directly from the airport – just like we did in Cartagena. 

Our first impressions of Morroco were kind of fun. We’re heading down the road and there are a few other bikers. Nothing fancy – just some old men trying to get from point A to B however they could. And then we see a person that I presume was a woman – aggressively driving a moped down the street. I say “presume” because we couldn’t see the person at all – just maybe the slightest slit for the eyes. All dressed in black. I’m thinking this was a woman in her burka – but, again, hard to know . . . Might have been a man who just robbed a bank . . . The moped – probably topping out at 23 mph – might not have been the best option for an escape vehicle – but maybe his lack of a car is why he robbed the bank in the first place . . .

In any event, it’s not like all the women are wearing burkas. Barely any, in fact. Turns out that, according to our very nice and knowledgeable free-walking-tour guide, Mahmud, Morocco is kind of a live-and-let-live Muslim country. 

I mean, make no mistake, Morroco is very much an Islamic State. Five times per day there are calls for prayer. There are mosques all over the place. And I guess the State pays the Imams and stuff. The State even dictates what the Imams preach about. The tour guide told us that because Morroco is a moderate state it does not allow hate-based sermons – but instead advocates for sermons that are more about tolerance and living together. 

Sounds like the Unitarian Universalist approach to Islam. I wonder if they use the Unitarian approach to sex ed for their eighth graders? (I think I talked about how I was subjected to that humilitation in an earlier post . . .)

It’s funny. I grew up kind of thinking that the separation of church and state was a bedrock thing in the world. Yes, there might be a few countries with a state religion – but, of course, most places on earth keep religion separate. But since we crossed the border into Mexico I think every country we’ve been in has had a state-sponsored religion. And the way the U.S. is going I guess we might not be far behind . . .

Too tired from the plane ride, and we haven’t been here long enough for any big stories yet, but there was a request for a little mapping of our trip. 

Big picture – where we’ve been, and where we’re thinking of going . . .

And then, zooming in on the next several months . . . 

Obviously starting out here in Morroco. To give a little context on that, Marrakech is at about 32 degrees north latitude. That’s about the equivalent of San Diego, California. We’ll head a little north from here – up into southern Spain – and then basically east across southern Europe – with the idea being to bike through Italy and Greece and into Turkey. 

From Istanbul we head north through the Balkans, probably go through Croatia because it’s on our “list,” and then hit Slovakia – where our new friend Ivana lives – then Poland, and the Baltic states, Finland (skipping Russia because, well, because it’s Russia . . .), then Sweden, Denmark, and, hopefully Scotland – before finishing the European chapter with a ride to London, where Diana’s cousin, Angie, lives. 

From there we plan to fly back to New York, visit our daughter, Lauren, for a few days, and then bike back across the country to Minneapolis. 

So that’s the general idea . . . Like our trip to South America there is a bit of a time crunch at the far end of things. That’s because we really want to arrive back in Minneapolis by mid-October – lest we end up turning into pumpkins by having to bike in more winter-like conditions. 

(Interesting that the timing is essentially the same as it was with Ushuaia. Austral mid-April is the equivalent of mid-October in the north – the month after the solstice in both cases . . . And the time when the weather really turns south . . .)

Upshot is that we’ll need to be finished with Europe by mid-September or so in order to give ourselves a month to ride home . . . 

That’s the plan . . .

Tomorrow – we start toward Casablanca – home of the famous movie. We’re a little nervous because: A) we don’t know Arabic and definitely can’t read the street signs; and B) from what we can tell there are no campgrounds and barely any hotels along the way. But so far everyone in Morroco seems nice and helpful and the driving doesn’t seem too crazy. 

Pretty sure it will be fine . . . 

But if you don’t hear from us for a few days, just ask for the American bike tourists. Somehow I think that will be enough . . .