Mohammedia Morocco - Canary Islands
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A dream run south to the 29th latitude, 900 miles north of the equator and where summer is 12 months a year. My first impression of the northern most Canary Islands is that they are similar to the Kornati Islands in Croatia, flat baron sand dunes, with volcano eruptions evident over the landscape. We soon find a bay, Playa Francesa, to anchor in for a few days where the water is crystal clear.
Morocco seems so distant now but a place we are in no hurry to return. A country of extreme contrasts where we had highs and lows, enjoying the experience very much but I never felt safe. Mohammedia was very much the most modern town we saw with its large French suburb, supermarket and patisseries, m
ade our stay their enjoyable.What I have trouble with is the extreme poverty (80%), then the other small extreme, wealth. Women and children begging for money and then make you feel cheap for looking different to them. The Mercedes Benz shares the road to the market with the donkey and cart. The manicured gardens are beautiful but there is no money to repair the paths or roads.
A pristine clean modern patisserie in one street and the next a fruit shop so disgustingly dirty.
From the train you see women washing on scrub boards at the local well and then we take a room at a Riad, scrub, waste water and say isn't Morocco a fabulous place.
The Morocco they want you to see and write about is an exotically different country. Medina's, colourful souk's and elaborate Mosques, too some great recipe ideas, using preserved lemons, spices to slow cooking meats in a targine. All this I loved but my heart goes out to the beautiful young girl collecting water with her donkey.
A photo opportunity, I ask to take her photo, she nod's wipes her face and smiled. I don't suppose I can but I hope she feels I could make a difference. We went to an 'Elvis' impersonator show and spoke to two French women married to Moroccan men and they talked of wanting change but now the threat of terrorism, the new disease, as everyone calls it, things are not promising. And then there are the persistent diarrhea stories. Ian had an urgent call while at a train stop and after inspecting that the loo had holding tanks this was his moment. Looking back only to discover the contents sitting like cow paddies on the track, paper and all. Then the embarrassing 20 minute wait in the station. Then later at a Palace restaurant, another blast and couldn't find how to flush. Next thing was a knock at the door embarrassed he looks out to find a girl with mop and bucket. 
Looking very much forward to clean bays and swimming we leave Morocco, for the Canary Islands, 450nms south west. A 24 hour run with our new 'Hood' orange gennaker up, gets us well ahead of our day light land fall but the wind dies a
nd then for the next 36 hours we have to motor sail. Kevin and Ian enjoying testing sails and setting up sheets. After previous success with fishing we let the line out with every opportunity. This time we were out smarted by the birds. They kept swooping around the lure and we did manage to snag 2 which then freed themselves. What they were actually doing was trying to steal it, which is what we found when pulled it in at dusk. The lure had gone and the birds had unhooked the attachment. Rex Hunt never showed us this side of fishing. 
The island of Graciosa is land fall and as we enter between two islands a local wind hits us at 40knots. After securing us to a fishing boat Ian ventures ashore to the sand swirling white village with sandy streets; it is like something out of a 'western' movie. We see the desert island by Land Rover taking one hour and all that time Kevin could hear in his head was the music from 'The Good, Bad and the Ugly'. Another day climbing the volcano to see the panoramic views which are spectacular and exercise we needed. It is nice to be able to swim again during the day in the beautiful waters. Now on our wa y down the east coast of Lanzarote with the north east trade winds blowing, giving us excellent sailing.
