Day 8: Mixed emotions this morning. I seem to be really missing the company of those really annoying bears. Decision time again and to be fair making this amount of decisions in such a short space of time is quite hard work. Do i carry on and not enjoy myself or head back with the other two and start planning the next adventure? To take my mind off all this serious stuff i decided to pop in to the Grottes De Chiker which is an underground cave system up in the hills outside Taza. I asked several people if i was heading in the right direction and each one of them obviously had no idea where i wanted to be but by luck i eventually found them. All i can say is they are breathtaking, really breathtaking as trying to keep up with my mountain goat guide was fun. 180 metres down into the caverns and off 3km into the earth. The power of water is simply amazing as is the power of mud. Moroccan chocolate is how my guide described it but i just thought it looked like mud. Anyway, each to their own i guess. All this extra time riding around and then being underground had given me too much time to think and while i was down in the bowels of the earth where it didn´t smell of poo at all i decided to go home. All i had to do was climb back out of the caves and pop off to the port. Simple. The climb out is a bit of a struggle for normal people but in typical Not Top Gear style i made it look even more difficult. I think my lungs popped out at one point to get some air........... My guide did the decent thing though and instead of offering words of encouragement he just b*****ed off into the distance and left me to climb on my own. Had the rest of the Not Top Gear team been with me this would have been more fun as we could have just abused each other and in between gasping for air we could have laughed quite a lot. Once my heart rate was back down to three figures it was time to get back on the bike and head off towards Fes. Whilst riding down off the mountain i had a sudden realisation. The poo smell i´d smelt for days was missing. I can only think it must be bear related as when they´re about you can´t get rid of the odour. Must have been someone asking them "Do bears poo in the woods?" and they misunderstood and heard "Bears must poo in their hoods". Simple mistake but probably explains why we could smell it all the time. I mean, it can´t be anything to do with Spanish or Moroccan sewage facilities can it? I´m sure Fes is a lovely place to test nuclear bombs as it does look and sound like someone has already! Luckily for me i met a very kind, helpful and caring local on a bike who offered to guide me to the road i needed even though for once i was actually doing alright on my own. Needless to say when he had me at the road he thought i needed to be on but wasn´t the right one he then demanded money for his petrol. Who´d have thought that! I gave hime five Dhiram for his trouble which he seemed offended at and got quite shirty with me so i pointed out how generous i would be with my foot up his backside if he carried on. I left waving a finger politely to the local "Dell Boy" and rode off in the wrong direction. It just seems like the thing to do in those situations. Onwards towards the port at Ceuta and i spot my first group of overlanders on bikes heading the other way. No chance to stop and say hello as we¨re travelling in opposite directions. I do then meet a German couple on another bike heading towards Fes with a nuclear bomb they needed to test. I gave them "Dell Boys" address and said he´d look after them. They told me the port at Ceuta stays open all the time so i decided to drive through the night to get there and maybe rejoin the rest of the team in Spain. Driving at night in Morocco is nearly as dangerous as during the day but with the added advantage of not being able to see any of the things that could potentially kill you. Pot holes, dead horses, dead camels, dead dogs, alive dogs, other vehicles with no lights, vehicles with lights on your side of the road. The list is quite long but on my last 150 miles i definitely wasn´t falling asleep as my eyes were as big as some really really big saucers. I reached Tetouan and needed to change my Dhiram into Euro´s as you aren´t allowed to take the currency out of the country in case anyone laughs at you. All the money changing joints were shut so i managed to find a group of men playing chess who offered to help. Who´d have thought that after being in Morocco for such a short time the Euro had become worthless...........I probably didn´t get the best exchange rate but i needed to get on a boat so i changed it and headed for the border. The border at night is less official and more like Sleepy Hollow. No fixers at this time of night and the Officially officialness seemed to have disappeared. I was through in next to no time and off to the port. My spirits lifted i reached the port to find it was closed........ properly closed until the morning, i mean who´d be daft enough to think it would be open! DOH!!!!!!!!! Nowhere to camp, no hotels anywhere nearby.so nothing to do but lay down on the floor next to the bike with a water bottle as a pillow and snooze the night away until morning. It´s been a day of highs and lows, quite literally as i´d been underground, overground and now i could Womble free in my bear free dreams. Come back again soon as it´s taken me ages to get this far and i want to tell you about the hardships team Muppet had to endure on their expedition to Spain to the KTM Shop!