Pu Luong: An Oasis of Relaxation

December 9-13, 2022

Often it’s not just a place that leaves lasting memories, but the people associated with the place as well.

I had stumbled on Pu Luong Treehouse online back in late October and contacted the owner via their website as there didn’t seem to be a way to make a reservation directly on their site. Dzung (aka Zoom), the owner, responded immediately and said she would schedule me in for two nights.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, and honestly didn’t expect much, as the place is simply several bamboo houses built on stilts by locals. Zoom calls it “authentic” and that it is. It’s not the Ritz. It’s far from primitive. It’s authentic and extremely charming. And due to the incredible staff and the beauty of Pu Luong Nature Reserve, this place has become my favorite place out of everywhere we’ve been in northern Vietnam. In fact, after 53 countries and counting, it has made it high up on my list of favorite places period.

The route we took to get here from Tuyen Quang took us over a mountain on a well worn and broken up road with grades as steep as 18%. I was having doubts that we were headed in the right direction but the gps kept saying we were getting closer.

Eventually we dropped off the side of the road down a small muddy concrete footpath and emerged onto a small road around a valley of rice paddies. There in the middle sat a small hill with its’ own forest filled with bamboo tree houses.

As we pulled up to the gate we were welcomed by staff and shown where to park the bike. Duy, the manager, greeted us and showed us around, giving us a map of the area and explaining that we were the only guests this night. He literally said, “The place is all yours. Please enjoy.”

And that was just the beginning.

Entrance to Pu Luong Tree House

Our room for the first night was one of these treehouses.

This wasn’t my favorite place because of all the things to do. It became my favorite because of the lack of things to do.

Our private seating area under our treehouse.

We spent the first night in a treehouse or house on stilts. The view out across the paddies to the hills is beautiful. I walked back down to the common area to ask Duy if we could get two extra pillows. The answer wasn’t simply “Yes”. It was “Two? Four? Or six?”

The view from our balcony the afternoon we arrived.

And the same view the next morning. Socked in and dead silent. Total relaxation.

A set menu dinner is served in a nice dining area, and it is by far the finest food we have experienced in Vietnam and maybe beyond. Each night is a different menu, using local ingredients and authentic local dishes. Breakfast consistes of your choice of an omelet, fried eggs, or pancakes, with fresh fruit and coffee or tea.

Meals were served in this beautiful dining area, again with peaceful beautiful views.


Not sure why but my breakfast omelette reminded me of Mr. Krabs from SpongeBob.

Another super cool member of the staff at the Treehouse. I think Duy said his name was Tso, but he definitely referred to him as the Public Relations Manager and Head of Quality Assurance.

The next morning Duy greeted us and asked how we enjoyed the treehouse. Then he asked if we’d like to change rooms. “Look them over and stay anywhere you like. A different room each night if you like!”

This place is incredible.

We took Duy up on his offer, and moved to The Roundhouse for the rest of our stay.

We had originally only planned to stay for two nights, then continue south toward Khe Sanh and on to Da Nang and Hue. But a check of the weather forecast showed a 70 to 75 percent chance of rain for the next ten days further south. While we normally don’t mind riding in the rain, several factors were telling us to reconsider. First and foremost was this place: comfortable, beautiful, incredible food. It would be hard to beat. Then there were the roads. They’re good but not great, and the combination of the slick red mud from the constant rain along with the trucks and other obstacles (dogs, chickens, bad drivers, etc) again made us want to just stay here and chill.

So we talked it over and reached a new game plan: We would spend five nights here, then move to another location near Ninh Binh for several nights before returning to Hanoi. We wouldn’t be going any further south this time but we’re okay with that.

When I asked Duy if we could stay another several nights, his response was as I had come to expect: “Stay as long as you’d like. We had one guest come for a week and stay for a month.”

I think I could do that here.

We’ve now been here four days. A few other guests have come and gone but it’s mostly just been us. Yesterday I asked Duy if there was a place to get my hair cut in the nearby village. As usual, he not only showed me where but told me to take his scooter to go into town. As we also had to make a run to the ATM (much further away), we took our bike instead.

By the way, we each had our hair washed and blow dried, and I had a haicut and shave. The total price for all of this: $2.50.

All of this luxury lifestyle comes at a price of course. While other places we’ve stayed have mostly been $10 to $18 a night, and as much as $26 in Hanoi, here we are paying $46 a night for room and breakfast (about the same price as it cost to rent a patch of grass to pitch the tent in Europe), and another $8 each for a fabulous dinner.

You don’t have to be rich to travel like we do. But you can live like a king for relatively little here in Vietnam. All it takes is the willingness to get off the Gringo Trail and slow down for a while.

And Pu Luong Treehouse is my new favorite place to do that.

Tso, Duy, and Diana. I wasn’t ready to leave, but it was time to move on.

Ninh Binh

December 14-18, 2022

Having decided to avoid the rainy weather further south, we left Pu Luong and headed to Ninh Binh, south of Hanoi.

Ninh Binh is a tourist destination for people in or from the Hanoi area, as it can be reached in just a few hours (it’s only about 60 miles south of Hanoi, but as is typical the traffic through the cities in between tends to slow the average speed to around 20 to 25mph. Unless you’ve experienced traffic here (or similar places), it can be hard to understand why a flat, straight, well-paved road can only produce a 25 mph average speed. Here’s the easiest explanation I can offer: imagine trying to drive 50mph, and every couple of hundred yards is an uncontrolled intersection with dozens of scooters, car, buses and trucks entering from both sides continuously. No one stops. Ever. They just roll into the intersection in a blind game of 90-degree “chicken” and see who slows or swerves the most in order for everyone to clear the intersection without anyone stopping.

We finally witnessed a t-bone between two scooters at one of these intersections today. Fortunately nobody was going fast but it looked like a rugby scrum in the middle of the intersection, and with the only real rule being “nobody stops, ever”, it was simply a matter of time before two vehicles would occupy the same space. In this case the two school girls on one scooter hit the deck but appeared to be uninjured. With probably thirty other scooters in the scrum around them, the only other scooter that ceased forward motion was the one that t-boned them. Everyone else seemed to casually glance and continue their fight to get through.

Okay, back to Ninh Binh. It’s a tourist destination for good reason. The area is sort of known as the inland version of a Ha Long Bay, with boat tours on the river through beautiful green-covered limeatone karsts and several notable temples in the area.


Hidden Tiger, Lying Dragon


Our first stop in Ninh Binh was the Mua Cave viewpoint. The cave itself is pretty disappointing, but the climb up the 500 steps to the viewpoint is pretty impressive.

There’s a bunch of photo opportunities here for tourists. This swing isn’t quite the same as the one in Banos, Ecuador, but if you squat down and take the photo just right, it kind of looks like it…

Creepy…


The view from half way up, looking across to the Temple of the Lying Dragon.

The view from the top.

Panoramic view from the top.


At the top is this large dragon sculpture. To get to it requires some climbing on slick, jagged rocks with a sheer drop on the sides (there is a chain to grab onto in places, but it’s still pretty sketchy). A guy behind me on the climb up said “This reminds me of Angel’s Landing in Zion…and I was scared to death there.” Yep, kinda sums it up. But also worth it for the view.


As I grabbed onto the dragon’s back for stability while taking this photo, I realized that the “fin” sticking up that I was holding onto was broken and loose. Not real condifence-inspiring. You can see someone behind me trying to climb back down.



Trang An


The next day we took a three hour tour in a small rowboat powered by a local Vietnamese woman. It’s pretty amazing to me how these middle-aged women can row a boat with three or four large tourists for three hours round trip, then pick up another group and do it again.

We went to Trang An, one of several destinations for boat tours. At Trang An, there are three different tours to choose from — all of them three hours long — and we chose the tour that passes through nine caves. These caves are more like tunnels, as they enter and exit in different locations, and range from 100 to 400 meters each in length. The tour also stops at three temples along the way where you can disembark and have a look around.

Just as we pulled in to park the bike, a group of local kids ages 10 to 12 came running up. They were obviously wanting to practice their English skills, and we obviously looked like the proper targets. We had a great time answering their questions (and asking a few of our own). Their English teacher, Jay from Nepal, has been teaching English in Vietnam for four years.

Quick side note: we got so wrapped up in talking with the kids as we got off the bike, that I totally forgot to take the iPhone that I use for GPS routing off of my handlebar mount. We walked away from it and did a three hour boat tour. I realized about half way through the tour that I had left the phone sitting on the bike in a crowded parking lot, but we were on a boat on a river and there wasn’t much I could do about it. When we returned to the bike, about three and a half hours after leaving the phone there in plain sight, the phone was still sitting there. Try that in the US and see how long it lasts! I don’t recommend this stupidity, but it just affirms the nature of the people.

Approaching one of the caves we went through. It’s slightly taller inside than this looks, but you still have to duck to clear most of them.

There were several temples along the way that are only accessible via boat. We were able to stop and tour each.

Many of the white walls near our hotel had very detailed murals of local scenery painted on them. And no graffiti.


The dining area at our hotel was bordered on two sides by this “moat” full of koi.

Ninh Binh is definitely a tourist destination, but it has some great scenery and a very relaxed feel. We enjoyed our time here before heading back to Hanoi and the frenzy of that city.

Hanoi

December 19, 2022

Riding back into Hanoi from Ninh Binh felt very different than when we left here a little less than three weeks ago. That day I was quite nervous about entering the traffic chaos and navigating my way out of the city. Today, having experienced a large variety of traffic, obstacles, etc and become more comfortable with the “rules of the road” (or lack thereof), it was much less intimidating to join the scooter crowds and work our way towards the center of Hanoi.


On the ride back into Hanoi, we passed this guy carrying an acetylene tank (with no valve cap) on the back of his scooter. I couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

We spent our last full day in Hanoi touring some of the monuments and relics from the Vietnam War. Despite the overwhelming feel in Hanoi that this is a capitalist society — lots of tourist shops and high-end stores selling name-brand sneakers, jewelry, and watches, bars, restaurants, hotels, etc — Vietnam is still a communist country, and it is interesting to see, feel, and generally experience this culture clash.

We passed these gentlemen playing Xiangqi, also known as Chinese chess or Elephant chess. I could’ve watched for an hour, but I didn’t want to disturb them. With my bad knees from too many years of racing (and injuries), I am always amazed (and a bit jealous, I must admit) at the Asian way that people — even at their age — just squat for long periods of time as a way of sitting. Note that the gentleman facing the camera has taken one shoe off; it looks like he may be using that to sit on.

Just a random side street in Hanoi. I like the way it looked due to all of the colors, the scooters, and the national flag.

We were walking towards Truc Bach Lake, when we ran across this on a wall. I wasn’t able to translate it, but it depicts soldiers with an anti-aircraft gun, and a US Air Force plane being shot down, with one of Hanoi’s famous bridges in the background. Also in the background is Hoa Lo Prison, aka the Hanoi Hotel. The date at the bottom is the day that John McCain was shot down over Hanoi.

On the shore of Truc Bach Lake is this monument, depicting John McCain parachuting into the lake after being shot down. The text translates roughly to: “On 26 October 1967 near Truc Bach Lake in the capital, Hanoi, the citizens and military caught Pilot John Sidney McCain. The US Navy Air Force Aviator was flying aircraft A4, which crashed near Yen Phu power station. This was one of ten aircraft shot down that same day.”


We weren’t aware until we ran across these posters that the day before marked the 50th anniversary of Operation Linebacker II, or the “Christmas Bombing” of Hanoi and North Vietnam. Frustrated by a breakdown of peace talks less than a week earlier, Nixon ordered the massive bombing attack that spanned twelve days. Over 20,000 tons of bombs were dropped over Hanoi and Haiphong, and the US lost 15 B52s in the attack.

There are small lakes all over Hanoi. This one contains the remains of the landing gear of a B52 that was shot down during Operation Linebacker II. The monument next to the lake says that “On December 27, 1972 the Battalion No. 72 Air Defence Missile Regiment No. 285 shot down on the spot a B52G of the US Imperialist violating Ha Noi air space.A part of the wreckage fell in Huu Tiep Lake. The outstanding feat of arm contributed to achieving the victory “Dien Bien Phu in the air”, defeating the US Imperialist’s strategic air raid with B52 bomber against Ha Noi at the end of December 1972 and creating an important change that led the Vietnamese People’s Anti-US Resistance for National Salvation to the complete victory.”
While we were there we watched a class of school children listen to a guide explaining the importance of what they were seeing, as well as several Vietnamese tourists posing for photos in front of the wreckage.

A short walk took us to the B52 Victory Museum. Despite the name, this place is actually a small museum depicting the first and second Indochina Wars, as well as the Vietnam American War. In front of the museum is the carcass of several B52s, in addition to anti-aircraft guns.

You have to remember (or you will be reminded) that the story here is told from the other side of the Vietnam war, and it isn’t pretty. Unlike our visit to Hiroshima several years ago, where the museum is dedicated to showing the horrors of a nuclear bomb and telling the story without really pointing blame, here the blame is on full display.

Outside there was a large group of women (mostly middle-age or older) in traditional Vietnamese formal dress, posing for photos in front of the museum. I don’t know who they were or the significance of their visit, though in hindsight I wish I did. I have to admit it felt a bit odd or awkward as an American to be asked by several women to use their phones to take photos of them in front of the museum.

At the Imperial Citadel there are a number of US aircraft on display.

The Maison Centrale, aka Hoa Lo Prison, aka the Hanoi Hilton.


Poster on the wall at the entrance to Hoa Lo Prison.


A sign on the wall at the entrance to Hoa Lo Prison. It’s a bit of a shock to read how the prison was a “Hell on Earth” when built by the French colonialists to imprison Vietnamese, but after imprisoning Americans it became “An attractive destination for friends who love peace.”

Ho Chi Minh’s mausoleum.

At the end of our history tour of Hanoi, we walked back to our hotel. Not wanting to risk crossing the street (I was over the fear of riding in Hanoi, but not the fear of walking in Hanoi), we decided to splurge on one last meal.

If I could’ve found a traffic light like in the video below, I would have crossed the street in search of more restaurants and coffee shops, but we had crossed in front of our hotel the night before, and by the time we got back we decided it wasn’t worth the risk of doing it again.

This video shows one cycle of a traffic light on a regular street at non-rush hour in Hanoi. Orderly, smooth, just a bunch of scooters. This is fairly rare, as there aren’t that many traffic lights, and when there are, many people just ignore them. Imagine stepping off the curb right here and walking across the street, without the benefit of a traffic light to slow or stop traffic.

A few doors down from our hotel was Sajang BBQ, a Korean-style BBQ restaurant. We opted for the “Diamond Buffet” from the menu, which included all-you-can-eat beef, vegetables, noodles, rice, soup, salad, sushi, sashimi, chicken wings, and dessert, and included two beers. All for about $50 for both of us.

This may be the last time for a long time that we get to eat this well.

I have to admit that the prices in Vietnam for food and lodging were every bit as inexpensive as I had always heard, and the food is very good, though I did get tired of fried rice and noodles after a while. But there are options available. Gasoline was about the same price as in the US (which of course is still way less than Europe). Would I come back? As soon as somebody invents a way to get me here without sitting on a plane for 20 hours, I will strongly consider it.

On to the next adventure…

Expense Recap: SE Asia

December 26, 2022

While we tend to travel “cheap” compared to many tourists, we could have traveled cheaper in Thailand and Vietnam. First of all, we rented a 500cc motorcycle in both countries, which is a HUGE motorcycle for these places. We even had locals approach us several times and comment on what a big motorcycle we were riding. As I’ve mentioned before, there is no need for such a big (relative term) bike in SE Asia; you don’t need the power, you don’t need the speed, and based on our observations of people carrying everything from an entire family to multiple refrigerators on one scooter, you really don’t need more than a scooter. You can rent a 150cc scooter in these countries for anywhere from about $6 to $10 a day, versus our $32 to $40 a day for the Honda 500. The only advantage of the 500 for us was comfort, as we aren’t small people and riding two-up with all our gear on one scooter wouldn’t have been as comfortable.

Also, while hotels and homestays in Thailand and Vietnam are relatively inexpensive compared to Europe or the US, we got a bit lazy in places and chose to “upgrade” our accommodations at times. Many homestays in Vietnam are in the $10 to $18 a day. On the other end, we spent as much as $60 a night to stay in a luxury resort in northern Thailand.

Obviously we didn’t ride every single day, so the daily average fuel costs drop considerably when the bike is parked.

So with that said, here’s a basic breakdown of what we spent in each country. Keep in mind that these daily average prices are for two people (yes, you really can eat well for around $9 a day). The “Entertainment” category includes everything from bus, boat and walking tours to cruises, and includes the taxi fares we paid to get to these places.

Thailand (22 days)

    Lodging: $34.11 Daily Average
    Food: $21.59 Daily Average
    Gas: $5.87 Daily Average
    Entertainment: $22.55 Daily Average

Vietnam (21 days)

    Lodging: $26.10 Daily Average
    Food: $16.53 Daily Average
    Gas: $2.82 Daily Average
    Entertainment: $32.87 Daily Average

All together, including the rental cost of both bikes and the round-trip airfare, it works out to a daily average expense of $169.70, or $84.85 per person per day.

En El Camino Otra Vez

March 5, 2023

Quick recap: after five months criss-crossing Europe last summer, from Douglas, Isle of Man to Dubrovnik, Croatia and from Nordkapp to Malaga, Spain, we stored the bike in Spain and spent two months riding rental Hondas in Thailand and Vietnam. Now, after a couple of months at home, we are back on the road, with no specific plans for the direction and the time interval.

We picked the bike up from storage at IMTBikes in Malaga. I can’t say enough good things about these guys; they are great to work with and take great pride in their services. We spent a couple of days in an apartment in the suburb of Huelin, literally next door to where we stayed last September, so we were familiar with the area.


The view from the rooftop terrace of our apartment peeked between the taller buildings at the sea and harbor.


One of our bags stayed in Houston as we flew to Frankfurt and on to Malaga. When I filed a lost bag claim with the airline in Malaga, they told me the bag was in Frankfurt. I showed them my phone and explained that I had an AirTag in the bag and it was actually sitting at Terminal D in Houston. They weren’t happy about being called out on it, but my bag arrived the next day. I was able to watch it transfer in Frankfurt and arrive in Malaga. Liking these AirTags.


Our apartment had a “Candy” oven in it…


The oven had two knobs. The knob on the left was “C”…


And the knob on the right was F. But not dual temperatures.


We actually found a great gourmet hamburger place a few blocks from the apartment. Spanish restaurants are pricey here (ALL restaurants are pricey here), though we’ll eat that too. We even ate Thai noodles one night. I thought after Thailand it would be longer before I could look at Pad Thai.

After some minor adjustments on the bike, like installing a new Quadlock phone mount and tank bag, we loaded up and headed about an hour out of Malaga to El Camino del Rey, or The King’s Little Pathway.


This series of walkways built on the side of cliffs was built in the early 1900s to connect two electrical power plants.


Over the years, the pathway became an adventure-tourism attraction, eventually leading to several deaths and the need to completely reconstruct it in a safer manner.


The entire elevated portion of the walkway is about 2.9 kilometers long, and the entire hike is about 7.3km.

We had a few sprinkles of rain on the way back to Malaga, and the two or three hours on the bike gave us a chance to “shake down” our setup again before heading further south to visit friends near Manilva.

Manilva, Spain

March 6, 2023

It was good to be back on the T7, and heading south to new adventures. We left Malaga and rode along the Costa del Sol towards Manilva. It’s a busy highway with occasional views of the sea, but still a good ride. At one point we hit stopped traffic and crept along, barely moving. Scooters split traffic and passed us by, but with the width of the T7 with the panniers, we were (mostly) content to just sit in traffic and wait. The temperatures were warm, but not hot.

That’s when this happened:


While stuck in slow-moving traffic, a car pulled up beside us. The driver rolled down his window and stuck out his hand, giviing us a sticker for our bike. “Chancletas” translates to “Flip Flops”, and is a group of riders from Malaga.

We took his sticker and exchanged thumbs-ups, and he inched forward in traffic. It took me a while to wrestle one of our stickers out of a pocket, but once Diana had it in hand, we split lanes back up to the car, and handed him one of our stickers. Just another friendly exchange between riders without a common language. We meet a lot of people this way, but rarely have we swapped stickers in traffic.

A little further south, we arrived at the winter home of our Polish friends Marcin and Ela. Unbeknownst to me, there was a conspiracy between Diana and Ela…and I walked right into it.


Walked right into a surprise birthday cake. Thanks to Diana, Ela, and Marcin. Didn’t see that coming. I later swapped the candles to “26”, but nothing about my mind or body says 26 any more.


We spent a couple of days at Marcin & Ela’s. Marcin had decided to take Ela’s MT-07 and join us for a week on our travels south, and his brother Lukasz was flying in from Poland, renting a bike in Malaga, and joining us as well.


The port near Marcin & Ela’s apartment.


It’s a nice walk along the beach here.


“Espetos”, or sworded sardines, are a traditional seafood along the coast here, cooked over an open fire on the beach.


If you’re not a fan of these awesome sardines, perhaps some giant (and I do mean Giant) prawns will do.


I stopped at the local Yamaha dealer near Gibraltar to pick up an oil filter and oil to do a quick oil change, and had a chance to look around at models not sold in the US, including this Tracer 700…


This MT125…


And this XSR125. Very cool.

After an oil change and a “see you soon”, we were back on the road and headed to the end of it in Southern Spain.

Hopping Continents: Different Worlds

March 8, 2023

I spent my early years growing up in the Los Angeles area, in an urban concrete jungle. When I was thirteen years old, my parents decided we were moving back to Texas, where I was born, and where I had visited relatives on occasion, but hadn’t lived since I was two years old. In my mind, all I could see was dirt roads, cactus, and a little red brick school house. That was my stereotypical view of Texas, based mostly I’m sure on what I had seen in movies, on television, and in magazines. Many people from other countries have this same view of Texas today: they think we all ride horses, wear big hats, and carry six-shooters.

Okay, maybe they’re not really that far off.

Growing up in the United States — and I’m sure it’s true of most if not all cultures — I was shown stereotypes of other cultures, countries, and people in this same way. Delivered via movies and television programs, we’re shown that the French wear berets, striped mime shirts, and neck scarves; that Australians are all like Crocodile Dundee; and most wrong of all, that nearly every other place outside of the United States is dirty, dangerous, and full of criminals that hate Americans.

Nothing could be further from the truth, and many of these stereotypes were about to be proven wrong once again as we headed south.

Diana and I left Marcin & Ela’s place on Wednesday morning, and Marcin and Lukasz were just a bit behind us. We planned to meet up either at the ferry at Algeciras, or further south. It turned out that the guys just barely missed our ferry, and had to take the next one, but they were close behind.

At least at that point.


On the ferry, tied down, and headed the short hop to North Africa.

By mid-afternoon we were in Tanger-Med, Morocco. The immigration and customs (vehicle importation) process went quickly, and within twenty minutes or so we were headed to Chefchouen.

Riding south from Tanger Med, the scenery was not at all what we were expecting for Morocco, and it showed our lack of knowledge of the area and our stereotypical thinking. We had expected to immediately be in a desert-like environment, with rocks and dirt and very little vegetation. Instead, we experienced the opposite. Everything was bright green, with lush farm fields and rolling green hills.


We rode through lush green fields and green hills on the way to Chefchouen.

Unfortunately for the Polish boys, the same border process for their ferry was not as smooth, and they arrived in Chefchouen hours later, just after dark.

Chefchouen was our introduction to Moroccan city design. If you pull up a satellite view of Chefchouen, or Marrakech, or most cities in Morocco, you’ll have a hard time determining what is a street and what is an alley. And it’s like that while driving also. A street may be a street for a short distance, but suddenly there are steps. A large portion of Chefchouen has no vehicle access. GPS directions usually will take you to the end of a street, then draw a gray dotted line to the address you want, which may be several blocks away and via a maze of alleyways, because there is no vehicle access to that point. This is the norm.


The view from the terrace atop our apartment in Chefchouen.The bike is parked near the large tree in the middle of this photo.


We would have never found our apartment if the host hadn’t met us where we parked the bike and guided us to it. Even after we were there, the only way I was able to identify it again was this blue heart next to the door. Otherwise, it was a blue door on a blue building in a sea of blue buildings. There were no other identifying aspects. It was about three hundred meters from the bike, up a series of blue alleyways, with several turns. After a couple of failed attempts to carry stuff from the bike to the apartment, I finally was able to establish a route and not get lost. Even once inside the building, the doors had no markings. Our door was on the third floor, and you had to count floors to make sure you were at the right door because they all look the same. So much so that one of the couples in the apartment below us walked into our apartment one evening by mistake. We all shared a good laugh.




The final walk up to our apartment.


There are a LOT of cats in Morocco. Walking the streets of Chefchouen, they were everywhere. Very chill cats.


This cat at dinner had his act figured out. He sat on the rail near me, acting very chill and aloof. After we finished dinner, Diana took this photo. Look closely at what he’s looking at. Seconds after this photo was taken, he jumped onto the table, stole my chicken bones and ran. There’s definitely a reason he was fatter than most cats in Chefchouen.


Breakfast the next morning. Same restaurant — we enjoyed it — but no chicken-thieving cat this morning.


The kasbah, near where we stayed.


View of the Spanish Mosque from our terrace.

Asking the host of a hotel or apartment on a site such as Booking.com or via WhatsApp if there is safe parking for a motorcycle at their location will get you a sometimes vague answer. Typically the answer is “yes”, which means that there is parking within some walkable distance, usually in a public parking area, and yes, it is safe.

It’s taken a while to adjust to these ideas. We’re Americans. We think other countries are less safe than home, or that people in all countries steal things the way they do in America. It isn’t like that. Yes, the public parking area where we parked our bike for two days in Chefchouen has “guards” that watch over things, but it’s not like some countries where they are armed guards. These are guys who just hang out and watch the lot. Nothing ever happens. You don’t have to pay them extra to watch your vehicle. It’s hard for us to explain or accept.

While packing up on the morning we left Chefchouen, we were approached by a group of guys from Dubai on BMW GS1200s. Several of them live part time in Morocco, and keep their bikes here, getting together to ride once or twice a year. The gentleman who approached us introduced himself as “Frank”. He said he noticed that we had put the cover on our bike overnight, and told us that wasn’t necessary. Later, in Midelt, I asked the owner of an apartment where we stayed if it was safe to leave the bikes outside there. He replied, “It’s a small town. There is no crime here.”

Of course I am the eternal pessimist, so I am slow to let my guard down, and still lock the bike up, often even placing the cover on it. Our Polish friends laugh at my over-protectiveness. It’s just the way I am: I see the bike and all we carry as our home, and we can’t afford to lose it. People look at us confused when we walk into a restaurant with our helmets in our hands. They don’t understand why we don’t leave them sitting on the bikes like everyone else.

Diana made a comment the other day to Lukasz and Marcin about how certain models of Hyundais and Kias had become targets of theft lately in the States, and Lukasz asked, genuinely, “Why would someone steal a car?”

The idea of auto theft was a totally foreign concept to them.

That kind of says it all.

Chefchouen to Merzouga: The Sahara, Berbers, and Camels

March 11, 2023

It has taken a while, but the Morocco we’ve seen on television and movies has arrived. This is the Sahara Desert.

In one day, from Chefchouen to Midelt, we experienced many different environments. Green fields, rolling hills, olive groves, pine forests (with monkeys!), mountains, snow, and finally desert.





In the middle of Midelt, on a somewhat busy side street filled with different shops, we found a nearly new, beautiful two bedroom apartment to rent for the night.


The apartments were built in 2019, just before Coronavirus, but due to the pandemic, they sat mostly empty for the past three years.


There was a nice area just off the street to park our bikes.


The third-floor apartment had two bedrooms and two bathrooms, a living and dining room, and a large modern kitchen.

We walked to dinner in Midelt, passing through more small side streets before emerging onto the main street. We had been referred to a traditional Moroccan restaurant, which turned out to be a great choice. The waiter was great fun, and the food was very good. Most every night, we’ve had some version of tajine, a North African specialty named after the conical pot in which it is cooked. There are various versions, including chicken, beef, “meat” (usually lamb or goat), or vegetable tajine. The meat is usually covered in vegetables or sometimes dates or prunes, and cooked in the tajine dish. It’s all been very good.

The next morning we continued on to Merzouga. The ride into Merzouga is pure Moroccan desert. The town sits at the edge of Erg Chebbi, a series of sand dunes. It is very much a tourist destination, and to be honest, that’s why we’re here. Merzouga allows tourists to experience a desert Berber camp, or at least the “Glamping” version of it, without worrying about becoming lost in the Sahara.


On the way to Merzouga we passed villages that seemed like the typical “oasis”…a patch of palm trees and green grass on the edge of a river, with the typical adobe-looking buildings.


Approaching Merzouga, the dunes of Erg Chebbi rise up behind the town.


It’s easy to spot camels and camel tours in this area.


Guests have a choice of how they are transported to the tent camps: you can ride a camel for a little over an hour, or take an ATV, or ride in a 4WD vehicle (about 15 minutes). After sitting on the bike for six hours today, we decided to take the fifteen minute truck ride to the camp, figuring that we might have a chance at visiting the camels at the camp.


On the way to camp


Our camp for the night


Typical Berber tent?


Um, maybe…if the typical Berber tent has a porcelain sink, a shower and USB outlets at each bedside.


These chairs made for a great photo. They’re actually on top of this dune so you can sit and watch the sunset.


The camp provided snowboards so we could slide down the dunes.


Funny how the Old Guy always seems to be the first to try these things…


On the way to dinner after a long, full day.


Another great meal, this time in a tent.


Chicken and vegetable tajine.


After dinner we sat around the campfire, as the locals played drums and sang Moroccan songs for us. Then they handed us the drums and let us give it a try. Marcin, being a drummer, was a natural. I also met Chase and Kevin, two great guys from Texas, who just happened to be sitting next to me.


Diana got to ride a camel. Check another bucket list item.


As I’ve said, everyone here is incredibly friendly.


Climbing the dunes at sunrise.


Marcin, checking out the camels just after sunrise. There’s nothing to tie your camel to in the desert, so the Berbers have an interesting method of making sure they stay put: they bend one of their front legs at the knee, and tie it bent with a rope. Three legged camels apparently don’t go anywhere.

After breakfast, we loaded up and headed back to town, back to the bikes and on to the next adventure.