Early start today, up at 5:30 with only the hostel cockroaches for company at breakfast. Whatever pretence of manliness that had existed evaporated immediately when I reached for a bowl from the cupboard and one of the shiny brown demons scuttled out to greet me. Alas, an American had elected to join us as part of his 'gap year' the night before and for this, the cockroaches were at least not the worst company to be found in the building.

The roads where quiet and the temperatures cool for the first few hours, this, combined with somewhat liberal approach to the authority of speed limits or red lights meant the 350 mile day was ticking by fast. So much so that after stopping for fuel (and consequently staying for half an hour to drink tea with the particularly friendly station attendant) and helping an equally amicable bicyclist with their puncture, I will still ahead of time.

Today was supposed contain the first hint of 'real adventure' of the trip, a 10,000ft dirt mountain pass, barely legible as a scribble of gravel carved among the imposing Atlas mountainside. Things began well, the road quickly turned to gravel and snaked its way towards the sky, before entering a village seemingly suspended in time and inhabited primarily by chickens and the occasional faineant human resident. As elevation increased the shale grew larger, the drops largened and the views became more and more spectacular. That was, sadly, until the road simply ended, landslides are common at the higher altitudes here and the trail, at least from the north, had fallen victim to one; its existence simply erased by an unrelenting sea of rock.

But what is adventure for without the risk of failure? The pass, by nature of it no longer being a pass had defeated me and so I turned around, headed back to lower ground and headed straight for Agadir.

As I write this, I sit in the wonderful Anza surf house, a hostel full of very lovely surfist types against which I pale in tan, and such things as 'chillness' or the ability to chain smoke. Its really very nice here, the city is lovely and the view out over the Atlantic from the balcony as I write is hardly an unwelcome distraction. The show must go on however and tomorrow I'll be heading south, leaving the mountains behind and making my way into the depths of the western Sahara.