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Day 9: I had a surprisingly good nights sleep considering I was laying on tarmac and using a bottle for a pillow but I obviously had that "he's a serial killer" look about me so I wasn't disturbed. I got my ticket and got in the queue ready to board. I was actually looking forward to being back in Spain which is something I'd not planned on doing for a while but hey. I was keen to rejoin my two fellow travellers as the text messages I'd received had mentioned beer, sunbathing, great scenery, beer and lovely sandy beer beaches. They were obviously roughing it and I needed to be there to share the agony! Turns out they had sailed from Nador to Almeria on a luxury sea going bath tub cunningly disguised as a ferry. Once they'd endured the bar for the five hour crossing they made it to Spain and it was then just a short push to the KTM Shop where the bike was left. Awwwwwwwwwww :-( Both weary Not Top Gear travellers retired to a local campsite which had it not just had it's barbed wire stolen by gypsies would have resembled a Moroccan hotel. They settled down with beer in hand to await the outcome. Would it break the bank, would it be terminal, would anyone care? Darren was busy practicing for the 2012 Olympic Nail Biting Team and Sparky was just doing his hair and wondering if it was too early to wear a cardigan. We all had our worries. About the same time I was leaving Algeciras for my 400km dash up the motorway Darren was having a poo. It's not that important but for once he'd managed to get out of his tent in time so needed a mention. I was battling severe winds and wasn't sure if it was last nights supper to blame or just the vibration from the bike but I was making progress. Darren was too, those wet wipes are a godsend! Anyway, Sparky James May Captain Slow Pants had popped to the KTM Shop to see how the bike was and it was fixed! Properly and everything! The valve clearances had needed adjusting and the seat had needed a liberal coating of Febreeze but it was fixed. Quick as a flash Darren was out of the toilet and into a taxi and on his way to collect his orange loved one. I was getting closer and closer, Darren and Sparky where on the beach practicing the slow motion run you see in all the best none gay romance films involving three heterosexual males on motorbikes doing really manly bloke things........... Anyway, I arrived to be told by Herr Malcolm the manager of Stalag Luft 3 that my travelling companions had left without me. Little did I know but this Scottish man was the one with the sense of humour and he was actually joking. They were both in the bar discussing the merits of the local washing facilities when I turned up and Malcolm was just having me on. Oh how we laughed and laughed......... a bit. He eventually let me in and I hurriedly pitched my tent, had a bite to eat and a quick coffee then it was off down to the beach to stare out across the Med to see if we could see Morocco. We couldn't so we just swam about a bit and definitely didn't look at any of the topless women down there. Ahem, anyway, swim over with it was time to have dinner and a quick drink while we waited for Nathan to arrive. Nathan is an Australian married to an English lady who lives in Spain but works off Scotland on the oil rigs and he met the other two at the KTM Shop as he owns a nearly working KTM too. He was obviously in need of some challenging, deeply political and highly intelligent conversation so joined us at the bar to ask us where he could find some. We didn't know and after pulling a few faces and picking our noses he just gave in and got bladdered with us. It was rather a nice evening trading insults with the miserable Spanish bar lady and finally getting some tapas out of her after the beer had run out. Funny place but hey. Finally we'd drank the bar dry and decided to call it a night so off we all went to our tents leaving Nathan to ring his pregnant wife and ask for a lift home. We had arranged to see him the following morning but after the taxi call we thought we'd be visiting him in hospital..............
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