The brightly painted Medina (old town) of Chefchaouen in the Rif Mountains in Morocco leaves you seeing blue for days! The blue walls are said to be either the result of Jewish  settlers in the 1930's or that the blue keeps mosquito's away. That's quite a contrast of opinions but whatever the reason it is a beautiful medina and a great way to spend a day wandering around.

Chefchaouen is known for wool products and everywhere you go there are stunning woven blankets. They are gorgeous but heavy which is the reason I didn't purchase one. A regret I have to this day. Not only stunningly beautiful they would have kept me much warmer than my poxy supposed 5 degree sleeping bag that was clearly just a sheet in disguise!

If you visit Chefchaouen, try and find a cafe that serves the goat cheese for lunch. Its local to the area and so nice. Its smooth, creamy and slightly tart all in the same mouthful and honestly I don't think I've ever eaten better cheese.

Unfortunately Chefchaouen is also renoun for its marijuana producing fields and you do get so many men siddling up to you asking if you want hash. Even me - which barely happens to me anymore but Chefchaouen was the exception.

Read more on: Africa - Morocco - Oasis Overland

Our first two days on the truck we did San Roque in Spain, Gibraltar which is of course the UK, back to Spain, Algeciras this time and then on the ferry over to Ceuta (say sir-tha) which is a tiny Spanish alcove right on the top right hand side of Morocco, and then finally over the border and into Morocco proper.

Africa bitches!

We got through the border into Morocco, not before being searched, searched and searched again (I never found out what they were looking for) and stopped for lunch on the seashore in Fnideq. Now when I say "stopped for lunch" I don't mean we pulled up, piled out and wandered around finding a cute seaside cafe. I mean we pulled up the truck, opened up the sides, pulled out our cooking gear and made what was probably some kind of cabbage coleslaw and bread. That would become our go to lunch for so many days. No matter where you are in Africa - there's always cabbage!

So Ceuta, what a bizarre experience that was. There is literally miles of this amazing promenade but the surrounding area is terribly poor and the wind was extreme. Unless they are hoping it becomes a kite surfing destination I didn't quite understand this overdeveloped stretch of beach. I'm assuming that in the summer it is overrun with tourism. That's the only reason I could think of to be honest.

After lunch we started our climb over the mountains to the stunning blue village of Chefchaouen (say chef-shoe-aan). The Rif Mountains of northwest Morocco hold some lovely scenery and despite popular belief are not part of the Atlas Mountain system. They are an extension of the Baetic range of the Iberian peninsula. Regardless of what system they belong to it is a lovely drive up and into the mountains and it gave us our first real look at rural Morocco.

We arrived at our camp above Chefchaouen late in the evening and pitched our tents very excited to still be in "camp" and have showers. Turns out they weren't hot showers and it was bloody freezing. It seems you never appreciate the humble baby wipe until you need it, at which point you can stare at in in awe wondering how anyone ever came up with a piece of cloth that you can wash with. Seems out of the realm of reality you are so overcome with relief that it even exists. So our first day in Africa. Uneventful apart from the triple search but we are here! Africa Bitches!

Read more on: Africa - Morocco - Oasis Overland

I'm not new to bush camping. Until my very first stay at a caravan park, this was just camping for me. I still don't think I could call anywhere that has amenities a "camp" but to be clear - this was officially our first bush camp in Africa.

Bush camping can be hard work to be truthful. While you get really adept at putting up and knocking down your tent (in the non stumbling around in the middle of the night coming back from the 2am pee sense), you can't actually pull up until at least dusk because bush camping is illegal in most places around the world. The UK crew on the truck call it wild camping which I didn't really feel was an accurate term until I was in my tiny tent in the Serengeti and a family of lions walked past in the middle of the night. That - my friends is WILD CAMPING!

Anyway I digress... So bush camping goes something like this:

• the driver is tasked with getting as far as he can that day, while at the same time being on the lookout for suitable bush camps. That doesn't seem like much but earlier than 5pm is too early, so between dusk and sunset he is driving while trying to spot a flat space that is off the road, not visible, not close to locals, has firewood and that we can get in and out of in a big yellow truck!
• suitable camps might be an abandoned quarry, sneaking behind a sand dune away from prying eyes of passing trucks, down a somewhat semi dirt road hoping that there is either a camp spot or somewhere to turn around, or, if you are really lucky, a spot up the river away from the closest bridge where you could, if its not -2 degrees - bathe in the river.
  
• You find somewhere, you pull off, you get 1200 meters in on a sand track only to find a family of Bedouins camped firmly in the only spot. So you turn around get back out onto the road and repeat this process sometimes 4 or 5 times. Mostly its the first or second spot you find that is successful, however we had days where we started looking for somewhere at 5pm and finally pitched tents at 8.
• So once the truck has stopped, if you aren't on cook duty, you grab your tent find a flat, prickle free spot, balance the time frame between getting your spot stolen and ensuring you aren't popping your hut up next to the two HORRIFIC snorers on the truck, and pitch you tent. Then it is expected that someone helps those on cook duty by raising their sturdy night shelter.
  
• While you are waiting for dinner there is often rounds of cards, or if you were like me I'd often do some exercising. Then you eat what is either cabbage stew or some kind of mystery meat casserole (I'm being very lenient here - I just didn't want to use the word stew twice in one sentence), and then you are usually in your tent by 8:30-9pm
• Again, because we aren't really supposed to be there, tents are down by 5:30-6am, breakfast is done and we are on the road by 6:30. Earlier in the summer months when it gets light earlier.

So this particular bush camp, we needed to be in Rabat to get visa's from the Mali Embassy. Or maybe it was Mauritania. Actually it might have been both?? There I go - digressing again...

Anyway, we were in Rabat for visa's which involved visiting multiple (yes there were two!) embassies and juggling applications and passports between both but because we were bush camping we would have to strike camp every morning, pack everything into the truck and spend the day in Rabat city not too far from the truck in case we were needed at an embassy.

So it was already exhausting, mostly because we just weren't used to putting up and pulling down camps every day yet, and also because it does take a while to sort out all your gear into groups of things you need daily, things you might need, and things you don't need and shouldn't really have brought! So not only are you constantly on the go, you don't have any real organisation yet. Trust me this is something that you develop a  military quality to as time goes on. Add to this: RAIN! Rain that just didn't stop for the entire 4 days. So not only are you constantly putting up and pulling down camp, everything is wet. EVERYTHING! Tents, clothes, bags, people, and it just seemed never ending.

In the overall scheme of things, it wasn't physically taxing but you couldn't really do anything either. I found this really cool day tour out of Rabat, but the day I booked it, wouldn't you know it, the embassy decided they might need us so I couldn't go, and of course they didn't need us.

What was great though was that very soon after this, my tent mate hooked up with one of the other guys on the trip and I very soon had an entire tent all to myself. Luxury Plus, but that's anther story....

This isn't my first underwear advice post, however unlike my last one (read it here) this is quick & easy. Ladies - never assume when you put on those lovely silky undies, underneath those relaxed fit Lycra yoga pants that you won't have to run at some point. We pulled into the camp ground at Etosha National Park right on dusk. The shop closes at dusk. The shop is also the bottle shop, liquor store, off-license - whatever you call it. Wouldn't have been a challenge except the shop is at the camp entrance and we were camping at the back. So a sprint through the park trying to run, hold up my pants which were sliding dangerously close to exposing parts I would rather keep private and I learnt very quickly. NEVER WEAR SILKY UNDIES AND SLINKY PANTS TOGETHER.

Luckily there were people in the shop and I got wine before she closed but it was touch and go with the pant-holding-weird-aussie-woman run going on!