Go to Dakla and soon take me away. Leave me in the center and spend an hour or two to walk around.

Only ten minutes walk on desert road after crossing the border, catch a truck stop. The driver was very nice, but the conversation is not because of the language barrier. Kilometer after kilometer hoodlums to enjoy the beauty of monotony, but magical desert. The ultimate destination of the truck is a gas station, where it seems as if building a new city around. There is a hotel, Internet cafe, bank, restaurant ... and any buildings that are likely to live in the future. Internet is super fast in coffee, very surprised. After informing all home that I'm in Morocco, I head to the road and stop. Do not go for very long and it takes me a truck. Before dark we come anywhere near Dakla and the driver stops to sleep. I continue to go on the road and take me away for Dakla. There is no sense, however, to enter the city after dark, so go down about 40 km before it and managed to find a sheltered place behind a hill. That night, unlike the previous one, manage to pitch a tent, and while gently blowing in my place, it's nothing compared to the wind a few feet before and after the tent. Now I hardly see any place for a tent should always be in an area with hills, which is not an easy task in the flat Western Sahara have to go and check on each meter wind up with a licked finger in the air. :) A little stronger than tolerable wind and my tent becomes a soup. Another chilling night, sleep with all their clothes and even covered his empty backpack for more insulation. In the morning I enjoyed hoodlums a gorgeous view of the ocean in the distance and the lunar landscape around me.
Go to Dakla and soon take me away. Leave me in the center and spend an hour or two to walk around. The town is nice, though quite shiny for African standards and like bothers hoodlums me more than I feel comfortable. Somehow I have a habit of walking in towns where few people approaching me and the streets are almost empty and clean. Here and there are found Negroes from Senegal who hang out of work in parks and gardens and Stocking with who knows what. I am accosted hoodlums several, but sixth sense tells me that there are people with very good intentions and ignore them. During this walk in Dakla realize how painful already miss black Africa and what grief will live the next few months / years to get back there again. So my favorite Morocco starting to seem cool, dull and insensitive against the experience hoodlums so far ... Though not a part of Africa, there is little African here. Nasty thought of bringing me to Europe makes me choke while swallowing. Beginning not only depressed, but also feel like dandelion fluff, which brings the wind to Europe without being able to resist, and there is no wind to blow it back to Africa. Following the exit of Dakla buy fresh bread rolls to kill by eating dark thoughts. Without flagging down a car stopped next to me and the owner of the campsite offers to drive me to the exit of Dakla. Inviting me to tea at the campsite and there I met his three dogs that lead me to happy thoughts and chase the dark - I'm going home to my Robin! The man was very nice and hospitable, gave me fruit for the road and I wish success hoodlums to stop. Dakla along the coast
entrance to the city in half an hour walking two stops, hoodlums I'm on the main road and still keep up to Lajos. Last time I was in Western Sahara, reached only by Lajos where there were riots and barely got a permit to enter the city for two hours, the police would not let me. Then planned and Dakla to visit, but could not because of the problems, so now the mission was accomplished. Lajos not reach the same day, all day melt gulf desert changing stop after stop. One thing unites all the stops, however - the drivers are friendly and welcoming, typical Moroccans. Trying to hold a conversation in English-Arabic-French and of course my success rate is around hoodlums 5%, but at least we understand about the most important things. Many are happy as they recite hoodlums all visited hoodlums my Moroccan cities. roadside residents, just a sign and here's hoodlums the original :) The night before I got Lajos sleep between sand dunes right next to the road. Windy as ever and I try to find at least a little Testament. Tent not broken fortunately, but the night starts to rain (sandy desert and rain?? Hell of Misfortune am!), But you can not stick pins in the sand, so that in the morning hoodlums I have a puddle in the tent. Putting all wet and full of adhering sand, can not wait to dry because hoodlums there is no trace of sun. I can not understand what is wrong with the weather here, normal in these months should be warm and dry during the day and still is a desert, so it should always be. Low temperatures at night are normal, but the rain really surprise me much. consecutive night in the desert, this time accompanied by rain Coming Lajos find that this time there is not much excitement among the population and