Police Swoop in Algeciras

Up Monday morning bright & early after a great night’s sleep, we had breakfast, over which, we decided that we’d do a bit more touring of Old Cadiz before we left for the Port city of Algeciras where we planned to catch a ferry to Morocco the next morning Tuesday morning 22nd Feb. So we loaded up our bike and motored round to the ancient area of Cadiz hoping to see the numerous Ancient buildings including the Old Cathedral, the Roman Theatre and the Royal jail, which were grouped fairly close together. I have to say the temperature had turned up the gas and soared to 23 degrees (The warmest to date), it really was a beautiful day but not, I hasten to add, a day to be walkin round in full motorbike kit. After a couple of hours we decided to call it quits and conceded that it was time to get back on the bike and head south for Algeciras which was about 130 km away. Before we left Cadiz we filled up with fuel and ( Rob Ballinger please note), put in half a litre of oil, which aint bad for a bike engine thats completed over 1400 miles.

We programmed the satnav to avoid the motorways and set off at around 2pm, the road we chose took us through some lovely countryside and at one point through a national park (De Los Alcornocales) which was very green and beautiful. I have to say we passed a number of wind farms with giant wind turbines along the way, some of them very close to the road. This in itself was a bit of a problem as they did tend to take your focus away from the road. We passed numerous road signs reinforcing the issue of ‘rear ending’ (humorously in cartoon style) , so clearly the giant turbines solved one problem but created another, c’est la vie!! I’m pleased to say we safely negotiated the wind farms and arrived in Algeciras in bright sunshine at around 15.30 and headed optimistically for the TI.

We were given the usual assistance and armed with a road map of the immediate area, we set off on foot to find a hostal. The first place I called into I was welcomed by the hotelier who was flanked by two members of the POLICEA. I was given short, sharp shrift, told there was no accommodation available, or in other words clear off. I thought it was odd at the time but decided that prudence was the better part of valour and took my leave. We moved up the road to another hostal but after close inspection by D I Ann Cronin we passed this opportunity over - rather quickly.

There was another hostal just around the corner in a small plaza, actually that’s overly descriptive, it was a small square that had a large ‘pull in’ for as it turned out the ‘white van brigade’ but we didn’t know that, at the time we arrived it was empty and looked for all intents and purposes like a small ‘plaza’. with a couple of cafes at either end. Ann duly carried out her inspection, she came down the stairs with an impassive look on her face that told me ’ this was ok, but let’s barter on the price’ Negotiations took place and once agreed we set off to find the bike.

Due to its’ location it was a bit of a mission to access the Hostal Algeciras (as it was called) but after about ten minutes and three aborted attempts, we eventually found the right road that would take us to the square. However, as we entered the road I could see there was a van at the top blocking our way through, I hoped by the time we got there it would’ve moved on. As we got nearer it became abundantly clear this was no ordinary van it was a chuffin Police van and there were police and black Africans running round like headless chickens, (It was goin nowhere), I was waiting for the bullets to start flying and I’m thinking ‘Sweet mother of God, what’s going on?’. For a moment I thought we had mistakenly ridden on to a film set and at any moment the director would shout ‘CUT’. We both sat there on the bike absolutely speechless but clearly both thinking ‘what the chuff are we doin here’ I guess we were secretly hoping that the director would shout ‘ CUT’.

With all the shit that was going on around us, for what seemed like a lifetime but maybe only a minute or two, one of the POLICEA eventually saw us and decided that we could squeeze between the van and the wall of the building. Well I aint no expert or magician and I’m thinking has this geezer noticed how wide our bike is? Well with Ann screeching and hollering through my ear piece I’m telling you if there had of been a ramp up into that van I’dve taken it as the safest option. Sadly that option wasn’t available so I dropped the clutch, into first gear said a quick Our Father and closed me eyes, how we got through that ‘Gaza Strip’ and out t’other side unscathed, God only knows. I can tell you it was a great relief and no wet pance either. When we pulled round the corner to the hostal we were still speechless but knew what we had to do, we looked for the guy whom we’d booked into the hostal in order to cancel the booking but there was nobody around, we reckoned he’d done a runner, we seriously didn’t see him again. In the end and against our better judgement, we decided to ‘Bite the Bullet’ and opted to continue our overnight stay as we were leaving for Morocco the next morning and it was very close to the port facility.

It was probably an hour or so later when I reflected on the first hotel that I had visited, it dawned on me that there must have been an orchestrated, perhaps even covert, police operation and we had nearly blown their cover lol. Understandably there were no photo opportunities whilst all hell was going on around us, so in this instance you’ll have to use your own imagination!!

Algeciras was not your typicalyl friendly Spanish city, I guess in no small part due to the many and varied nationalities. It felt very oppressive and threatening, the buildings were mostly of a high rise nature and created a very claustrophobic atmosphere, Ann and I felt extraordinarily uncomfortable. Our discomfort was increased when we went into a cafe/restaurant for something to eat down by the port. It was a large floor area, kinda split into two, front and back. We ordered a meal and sat down at the front, to wait for the food to arrive. There were several tv screens around the place but seemingly only the one at the back was on and quite loud. I decided to take a look and was quite shocked at what I discovered, it was a bit like walking into a cinema, there were many people in the room all of them gazing up at the screen. I too looked up and realised why they were all glued to it, it was the Al Jazeer TV channel reporting on the outbreak of civil strife in Libya and quite graphic with it. I quickly left but not without the seeds of doubt creeping into my mind about our anticipated journey into Morocco. I went back to Ann and we chatted and joked, our meal arrived and I have to say it was the first bright light that we’d both experienced since our arrival into Algeciras, it was absolutely delicious.

We settled our bill and walked back to the hostal; we went up to our room and turned on the TV quickly tuneing into the BBC world news; we both listened intently to what was unfolding and inwardly recognised that Morocco was a no go area. We consulted the Foreign Office web site and whilst they weren’t openly stating that Morocco was under serious threat they had recorded troubles in one or two of the larger cities. At this point we decided to abort the tour into Morocco until political stability returned to the region. Whilst this produced a great sense of disappointment, at the same time there was an enormous sense of relief, clearly this had been playing on our minds for some time and the decision, ironically, was like a big weight lifted from our shoulders. We further decided that once light came we’d be out of Algeciras as quickly as possible and head up to Gibraltar and continue our tour of Spain.

You will note the lack of photos (for which we are sorry), but that in itself tell its own story

So that’s it for now, and to all our friends at home you can sleep easy in your beds knowing we wont be venturing onto the North African Continent just yet!!

All our love

The scarry Bikers. Xxxx