After a bouncy New Year's Eve in the main square of Gibraltar, we meet up with all the other teams in our group. There are 2 old Volgas from Latvia, as well as an old Beetle, 4 ambulances, a school bus and more, But Marigold is the star!. The next group meeting date is Dakhla, Western Sahara, over miles into northern Africa. We leave on the 9 o'clock ferry the next morning and get through the Moroccan border with little problems.
Most teams are heading for Fez, in the Rif Mountain range, but as Marigold struggles with anything uphill, we decide to head toward Rabat. Still in convoy with our loyal friends Clemo and Will and their Besta van, we run into the proper Paris-Dakar rally now called something like telefonica Barcelona-Dakar. They shoot past us at high speed followed by their huge support vehicles. Some of the kids lining the streets, waving, are a little confused when they spot Marigold tucked in behind these convoys.
We make it to Rabat at nightfall. It's very cold once the sun sets and our first night camping is quite uncomfortable. My little espresso machine comes in handy the next morning, breezing life back into us and is very popular with some of the other teams.
We see nothing of Rabat other than its city walls and head off south direction Marrakech. We stop in a little town off the main route and have the first glimpses of the real Morocco. Horse drawn carriages everywhere, very few cars, goats stew with chickpeas for lunch, back in the car and on the road and getting to Marrakech in the afternoon.
It's nice to meet up with many of the other teams on the campsite, some feel like old friends already. Marrakech is a great city and we would love to stay a few days but, even though Marigold is doing really well, we are one of the slowest teams, so we reluctantly decide to leave the next day to make it for our next meeting in Dakhla.
