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The velvet highways of the Land of My Fathers.
Fully loaded the CBF600 is starting to feel like she’s wallowing, and frankly unless I get more training, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing all the way to Moscow. The problem I think is a simple one of too much weight combined with too little experience sledging around pristine Welsh tarmac right into the heart…
Into Morocco, beyond the tourist traps
Riding out of Tetouan towards Chefchauouen I was struck by how poor this country actually is. Lots of people liing on the outscirts of the city, living much as they must have done in the middle ages. Donkeys, carts and what cars and vans there were, were being thrashed within an inch of their lives;…
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