(Louise) Martin and Ross were desperate to watch the Wales game, so armed with a laptop and a Nexus tablet, just in case there were no bars showing the game, off we went.
We found a bar with a TV but despite having umpteen Sky sports channels none of them had rugby on. We agreed with the owner that if we had food there we could plug in the laptop and use their Wifi to try to watch the game. We ordered the cheapest food and beers and then after 15 frantic minutes of connecting, streaming, searching, the boys in red appeared on the computer screen.
90 minutes later Ross and Martin were crying into their beer and I was tucking into a Moroccan version of Arctic Roll for dessert (chocolate sponge with strawberry, chocolate, vanilla and mint icecream, all soaked in cherry liqueur). Our food was lovely fresh 12" pizza for £3, the bottles of local beer about £1.30.
(Martin) Friday afternoon was boat maintenence. John checked the steaming light. Louise sewed a patch over a tear in the mainsail mainsailand sorted through the first aid kit. Ross checked the engine fluid levels, I fixed a galley light and greased the propshaft. John then set about the lovely job of cleaning out the fuel tanks. I helped with the aid of a scuba cylinder, blowing compressed air to try and clear any blockages. Not pleasant work, but important stuff.
Ross and I were delighted to finally find a pirate video stream showing the Wales v Samoa game, and equally disappointed at the performance and result.
John and Susie had gone out for a romantic dinner for two. On the way back to the boat, Ross saw them and joined them. Louise and I had an early night. The others, it seems, didn't. Details are sketchy, but taxi rides to fishing ports, atm machines devouring credit cards, clubbing Morrocco style and 05:00 bed time form one part of the tale. Certainly, it was 'subdued' aboard Chelone on Saturday morning......
(Louise) Early hours of Saturday morning we had thunderstorms and at 10 it was still raining. Undeterred, Martin, myself and Ross got a taxi to Souk Al Ahed, a Moroccan bizarre. The taxi journey cost us less than £2 and it was at least 12 miles away. The market was a huge sprawling mass of stalls, without the charisma of Marrakech but the reviews online reported that it was where the locals bought their fruit and veg.
We wandered around glorying in the sights and smells of spices, herbs, perfumes, cakes etc. We were charmed by a trader with a small chameleon called "Lady Gaga", well actually I was charmed while it was on Martins arm, it was a different story when it was on my shoulder....
The reviews were right about the fruit and veg, stall after stall, piled high with mountains of fantastic looking produce. Obviously being veggies, we were keen to restock Chelone, so I filled bags with aubergines, courgettes, peppers, cauliflower, onions and chillies. I had a price in mind of about 75dh but was astonished when the trader said 25 !! How we are ripped off at home.
The only other event worth mentioning is getting 'touched up' and followed by a young man. Ross also had his bum tickled so I guess the guy was either not fussy or was checking out back pockets!!
There was a huge vegetable and fruit market, and we filled a rucksack for less than £1.50
Spices, sweets and cakes, chickens, fish, another vibrant Moroccan market experience.
Louise had wanted to touch a snake in Marrakech, but, in the end, had to settle for this crocodile sized chameleon in Agadir. Many might interpret the look on her face as abject terror, but she assures me the screams were actually shrieks of delight.
Sunday
We leave today for The Canaries this morning. It was going to have been at 07:00, but, evidently, the lady who checks boats out doesn't work weekends. A bit of hand wringing on John's part resulted in a compromise, and she agreed to come in at 10:00. Hopefully, we'll be off then.
