Ourtzarh to Fès: Just outside the little town of Ourtzarh that we had passed on our way to our campsite, the big Saturday market was in full swing. We had already noticed every donkey in the region was headed towards the town with a rider and empty panniers on each side. We parked up amongst the chaos of cars, vans, donkeys and people, and wandered into the melee. Row upon row of market stalls in alternately muddy and dusty alleyways sold everything. ...

Chefchaouen to Ourtzarh: Out of Chefchaouen, we hit the road along the Rif Mountains heading east. We climbed steadily, even reaching over 1400 metres though higher peaks surrounded us some with the last remnants of snow cover on the highest reaches. We noticed that about 95% of the cars on the road are old Mercedes. Usually while with lots of dings and dents and not one with the round Mercedes symbol sitting straight on the grille or the bonnet. They ar...