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Peter Gostelow

Adventure cycling

Photo Story: Morocco

Many of my fondest memories of places in Africa are connected with children. Smiles and waves would frequently greet me at the roadside as I cycled along, but there were also places where the incessant calls and demands for gifts became wearing. In places where other foreigners had been before me and handed out gifts, be they pens or sweets, the expectation that every foreigner passing through would follow suit was left in place. It is one of the unfortunate affects of tourism seen throughout poor parts of the World.

The Dades Valley in Morocco’s Atlas mountains is one such place. On one cold December afternoon I stopped in a village and gave in to all the calling by handing out some dates. This was a mistake. Hands were thrust in front of me and quickly multiplied. I soon regretted stopping and quickly cycled away. Later that evening I noticed the cable lock that was normally hanging off a strap on one of the rear panniers was now missing. Without the key this would have been totally useless to the little hands that released it. One of the faces in this picture here may still have my lock! You can read what I wrote at the time here.

Donnez-moi Donnez-moi

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