Click here to see the beginning of this trip.
April 13th 2018, day two, Guelmim
I woke up early. Way too early. But if I wanted to depart from Morocco on time, I had to stick to my already tight schedule. It must have been 7AM when I payed about 30 euros for the night in “the best and most expensive hotel in the town”, took my stuff and went out. The director of the Guelmim National Airport was supposed to pick me up at 7 o’clock and drive me to the airport. I stood on the street for quite a few minutes but there was no sign of him. I decided to have a look around before he arrives.
The surroundings were typical of Saharan landscape. The houses were mostly made of sand and the few men walking down the street were wearing djellabas. I didn’t see any women at all. On the roads, the traffic consisted of Peugeot 205 taxi, exclusively. While I was enjoying the views, an old Moroccan guy in a hi-vis who had been cleaning the street, walked up to me and asked:
– Bonjour! Avez-vous besoin d’un taxi, Monsieur?
– No, no taxi, private driver โ I said.
Nevertheless, he tried to stop several red Peugeots but none of them took him seriously. I started worrying why my driver was not there yet. I looked at my watch and realized โ I told him to be present at 07:00 UTC but here the time zone is UTC+1! This means I have to wait for almost another hour for him.
I decided not to waste time and find my own way to the airport. I went to the main street and waved at one of the “Petit” taxis. The driver stared at me, overshot the roundabout, disembarked his fellow passengers and drove back to me to pick me up.
– Monsieur! How much money to Guelmim Aeroport?
– 30 dirhams!
He helped me put the trolley bag in the trunk and I entered the front passenger seat. We were driving for a good 30 minutes and I also started to think if the airport is actually in the same direction we’re going to? Or maybe he’s taking me to some hidden terrorist place where I will be chopped into pieces ๐
– We’re going to Guelmim Airport, yes?
– Oui, oui!
– To a-ero-port?
– Oui, Guelmim Aeroport!
– Alright then…
I decided not to interrupt him anymore. Not that I felt safe from now on but rather curious where I am going to end up actually. After a few more turns I started to recognise the airport surroundings. I have to add that the airport is primarily used by the Royal Moroccan Air Force and anyone passing through the security checkpoint has to have a special permission and be ready for a security search and a potentially not nice conversation with the officer. I could see that my taxi driver is getting very anxious as we were approaching the checkpoint. He stopped the car some 40 metres away from the gate.
– I have to stop. Cannot go there – he claimed.
– No, drive closer! – I insisted.
He started sweating. We moved up a little bit and stopped again.
– Sorry Monsieur, I can’t.
The driver was all shaking and must have been pissing himself already. I got off the car and walked to the checkpoint. I showed my ID to the army guy but he said the taxi has to go back and I will wait for my escort. I paid 27 Dirhams (I didn’t have more coins on me), took my bag and released the taxi driver.
The airport building was about mile away from the checkpoint. The officer was presumably on the phone with the airport director, who by the time I arrived to the airport, should be waiting for me in the hotel. He was looking at me and laughing. Yes, the fact I was in a hurry didn’t save me time at all. After a couple of minutes, I was taken by a military van to the airport. A while later, the director arrived in his car as well.
I had checked the weather in the hotel but still had to receive an official meteo briefing and get NOTAMs printed in two copies. The weather was not good. Light winds from the south (tailwind) and a low layer of scattered clouds at 1400ft AGL, possibly covering some of the mountain tops along the way and showers of rain. There was also a broken layer of clouds at maybe 2 or 3 thousand feet. My journey to Agadir should take approximately 1 hour, with fuel reserve that could be stretched up to 2 hours, when flying at low power setting most of the time.
At the end of my pre-flight preparations I went to the Duty Officer to file a flight plan to GMAD-Agadir and to get his permission to commence the flight. He declined, stating that I cannot depart VFR when the clouds are lower than 1500ft. When I suggested giving me a SVFR clearance he laughed at me, saying there is no such thing as a “Special” VFR in Morocco. I went outside to have a random walk and find something to do.
Looking from the right to left, there was a big hangar on the other side of the apron, from which an old UH-1 Huey helicopter was being towed out. Directly in front of me there were just mountains and the apron for civil aircraft, currently occupied by my white-blue Socata only. To the left there was some old, abandoned airfield machinery and equipment and right next to it.. a Cessna 140. The aircraft was entirely covered in dust, had a damaged propeller and the vertical stabiliser. Both main wheels were flat. Inside the cockpit I could still find instruments (all seemed to be intact) and a registration plate โ HB-CAD. I took a couple of photos with an intention to look up its story when I come back home.
Then I was called by the Duty Officer. He changed his mind and now decided that the 1500 feet limit applies to the ceiling and not to the altitude of the lowest cloud. And as the lowest layer at 1400ft was scattered, it was legal to depart VFR.
I jumped onto the plane, strapped in and carried out the necessary checks. Once again I looked at the fuel gauges… If anything happens along the way, I can divert back to Guelmim only to wait days for AVGAS delivery, land at a local airstrip 25 minutes north-west of Guelmim or just carry on and fly to Agadir.
I took off from Runway 05 โ with the tailwind โ to save time and fuel on departing in the opposite direction. I climbed to 1400ft AGL but this was clearly not enough to overfly the high terrain. Flying an alternate route along the coastline was not an option as I would have to use the extra fuel to go the longer way. I climbed to the ceiling (so above scattered stratocumulus) which seemed to be the best option. As I was approaching the mountains, I was flying in between two layers of clouds. The one below me was scattered โ which allowed me to see the ground at all times. The one above was broken or overcast.
Suddenly, I started losing ground contact. I was not sure, whether I was entering the clouds or the layer below me started to cover most of the surface but I immediately made a 180 degree turn after which I could see where I did fly from. Having gone back to VMC, I instinctively reversed power to idle and ducked under. I looked sideways and I spotted an area of a relatively good weather. I flew towards it, which meant I had to fly with some 20 degree deviation, closer to the coastline but also to my alternate airfield. After that I climbed back again and realised that I had wasted fuel by not maintaining my cruise altitude before.
– Agadir Approach, SP-GCE, hello, request distance and bearing to Agadir Airport.
– SP-GCE, Agadir, heading 030 and distance is 9-0 miles.
– Agadir, SP-GCE, roger, ETA in one hour and arriving on minimum fuel, no delay please.
– SP-GCE, Agadir, if you want heading directly to the airport and not to the VOR, then fly 027.
– Heading 027, many thanks, SP-GCE.
Finally some competent ATC. I decided to empty the right fuel tank first to only rely on the more accurate indication of the left fuel tank โ so I know how much time I have got left. I flew all the way at minimum power setting to conserve the fuel. After half an hour of flying, I wanted to make another fuel check to ensure I can still make it to the airport โ but I looked at the gauges and they both were reading zero! Well, I might have little fuel left but certainly it would not left me half an hour away with an engine failu-
The propeller started loosing RPM quickly and I felt a sudden deceleration. Pumped with adrenaline to the limit, I reached for the fuel valve to switch it to the left tank, which should still have a lot of fuel in it. Fuel pump on, mixture rich, throttle โ max power. Nothing happened for the next 2 seconds so I pulled carb heat on (in case it was due to icing) and started pumping the throttle. The engine came back to life again, so I pushed the carb heat knob back in, decreased the power and leaned the mixture.
– Approach, SP-GCE, how many more miles to Agadir?
– SP-GCE, 3-0 miles to Agadir.
Every single second felt like an hour. During a random instrument checks I noticed that one of my radios is down. Also I had no indication of oil pressure and of course, the fuel quantity. I thought it could have something to the with the circuit breakers but didn’t want to experiment in my current situation.
After another long hours โ or actually just another 20 minutes โ I spotted Agadir Airport, which had been hidden behind the cloud. It was now literally some 3-4 minutes away. I think I’m safe now. I landed in the 15 knot crosswind and taxied to stand.
While my plane was being refuelled, an easyJet aircraft parked up perpendicular to the gate. It must have been the one coming from London. Should I give up now and just get on the flight?
– Is it OK now? – the fuel man asked me about the quantity of AVGAS now present in the fuel tanks.
The quantity indicator on the truck showed 80 litres. I looked inside and there were topped up almost fully but still could fit another 1-2 litres each. I asked him to top them up even more. I went inside the building to pay the fees and prepare for the next flight. I chose to fly to Ben Slimae โ near Casablanca, with an alternate airport in Essaouira which I would be overflying. Paid the fees, got the paperwork and went out.
What I saw when I went back to the aircraft was shocking. Both wings were leaking with fuel! That guy topped them up way too much, and the indicator now showed 93 litres of fuel bought. Of course I was the one who had to pay for it. And when it came to paying the bill…
– Are you paying in Euros or Dirhams?
– Dirhams, please.
– Do you have bank confirmation?
– Errr.. yeah, of course! (if you’re not sure โ always say yes ๐)
I gave him the dirhams, got a receipt in turn and he was just about to drive away but then asked:
– Give me bank statement!
– Ohhh, you mean bank statement… No, sorry, I don’t have it.
The man was bit upset about it but didn’t cause any trouble.
I took off at 13:00 on the westerly heading. Flew abeam the city of Agadir and after reaching the coastline, I turned northbound. The weather en-route was very interesting and worrying at the same time. The area of bad weather โ that is low-altitude overcast stratus cloud โ extended only across the land, leaving the seaside to bathe in rays of the african sun. It was not an issue initially, as I could just keep left of the coastline but later on I would have to deviate to the right into the mainland, to follow the route to Casablanca.
Luckily, the weather over land has also cleared after two hours of flying and now I was approaching Essaouira VOR in a fair weather. I did a fuel check and was not entirely satisfied with the fuel remaining onboard at the end of this trip. If anything goes wrong, if I get lost, get put in a hold or told to divert, I might be left without any options. Therefore, I decided to land at the en-route Essaouira airport which I was familiar with, and it didn’t cost me a lot of time or money to refuel there, instead of Casablanca.
I contacted Casablanca Tower to ask if it’s ok to land there. I heard a familiar female voice of the air traffic controller, giving me a clearance to make a visual approach to any RWY as the winds were calm here. I landed on RWY 34.
As always, I was approached by the border control officer, who asked for a reason for the diversion. He seemed to think that my decision was very unusual and wrong but having refuelled my aircraft and determined the actual FOB left, I was confident that continuing that long flight without an extra refuelling would not have been the best option.
After paying the taxes I set off again but this time towards Rabat. The weather was perfect along the way and I didn’t have any problem with navigating on VFR chart only. The chart was not very good โ it didn’t offer the opportunity to distinguish most of the towns by their shape and size, obstacle altitudes were marked only with color and not with specific numbers and some roads were nonexistent. Nevertheless, two hours into the flight I positively identified Jemaa Sahim village.
Approximately 40 minutes later the terrain underneath me began to rise slowly, indicating that after another 30 minutes I shall expect reaching Tiflet village, over which I will turn towards SBI beacon, located near the coastline and just a few miles north-east of Rabat airport. Before doing so, I decided to have some fun by descending into a valley and having a look at a couple of villages, just to see in what conditions people really live there.
I spotted my turning point and once having reached it, I made a left turn towards SBI.
– Rabat Tower, bonjour, SP-GCE over Tiflet, 3000 feet.
– SP-GCE, Rabat Tower, negative, you are over Khemessat, turn left 30 degrees immediately.
– Rabat, SP-GCE, turning left 30 degrees.
Hmm… I’m deviating by 30 degrees… it means I have flown to the next village, the one behind Tiflet! That means the tailwind pushed me 15NM further northwest and now I will be facing headwind. It’s a loss of 15 minutes.
– SP-GCE, turn left 30 degrees!
– Ok, turning left 30 degrees again, SP-GCE.
– SP-GCE turn left 30 degrees!
Ok, now I think he just doesn’t hear nor see me on the radar and probably is guessing my heading and position from a random radar echo. A few minutes later I passed the Tiflet village of my left so I was able to resume my own navigation again.
– SP-GCE, Rabat, do you have some problems with your GPS?
– Rabat, SP-GCE, I have no GPS, I am flying on VFR chart only.
I bet the ATC must have been surprised with this answer.
After passing SBI I was cleared to land on RWY 21. I parked up on my stand, arranged refuelling and went to the passport control. The officer asked me to fill out the landing card, which also requires to provide the address in Morocco where I will be staying overnight. I played the same trick as the last time โ I said I’m just going to look it up on my laptop, when in fact I still had no idea where I’m going to stay overnight. I found some hotel on a booking.com website and used it for their paperwork.
Bad luck for me, I arrived when all other flights were gone from Rabat or would have arrived in at least a few hours from then and that means there were no buses connecting the airport with the city of Rabat. I had to take a taxi for which I paid 350 dirhams (that’s quite a lot).
– Monsieur, give me 700 dirhams, and I will come and pick you up in the morning.
– No, no, I will pay 300 dirhams now, and the rest tomorrow. Otherwise how would I know if you’re actually coming or not?
– Why would I not come?! Of course I will come. I want to work! I WANT TO WORK! – he started being very nervous.
– I understand but I’m not giving you 700 dirhams now, sorry.
– Ok, give me 450 dirhams now and the rest tomorrow.
– No, I can only give you 350 dirhams.
He was very unhappy about it but took the money anyway. Before I got out he still asked me several times if I actually will be waiting for him the next day. I didn’t want to have any problems so I said “yes” regardless of what I really thought. And what I thought was that his price is ridiculous because I can get an old Merc Taxi four times cheaper in the middle of night.
I stayed in the Yasmine Hotel. Before going back to sleep, I decided to go for a little sightseeing. I haven’t eaten since I woke up (that’s about 12 hours) so I went into the first bar I encountered on my way to the Central Market. The prices were great and the food quality acceptable, although water they were serving was a bit stinky so I refrained from drinking it. For a whole chicken, some kind of bread and vegetables, I paid only 12 dirhams.
I walked through the Central Market where I also bought some dried fruits. Then I approached another guy and asked him for the price for a pear but he said 40 dirhams. Well, that must be a special price for white people like me โ I thought and walked away, making both of us upset at each other.
My next point of interest was the National Museum. When I was walking there I got stopped by a friendly looking black man. He was dressed very different than the locals and I assumed he must be a tourist, just like me.
– Monsieur, parlez-vous francais?
– No, sorry, just English.
– Ok, not a problem! Can you take a photo of me, please? – he asked, while handing me his iPhone at the same time.
I took a few photos of him, each time he changed his posture and facial expression and asked for more photos.
– Ok, and now the same but without sunglasses! – he still didn’t have enough.
Having finished with the photo session, he asked where I’m from.
– From Poland, Pologne.
– Oohhh, Poland! So we are enemies! I’m from Senegal.
– Why are we enemies? – I totally didn’t catch the joke.
– Because we are competing in the World Cup, we’re in the same group.
After a few minutes of chatting we said goodbye to each other and wished good luck (probably in the World Cup too). I decided it’s the high time to start coming back to my hotel, since it was already 11pm. What really caught my attention was a massive, monumental building which didn’t match the rest of the Moroccan architecture. It was St Peter’s church, and it was huge! I’d never think that someone could build such a big church in the capital of a Muslim country.
I was hoping to get back home just before midnight but I lost my way and it took me another hour to find my way home. My phone had died before I could find any source of Internet so I was not able to establish my position and directions back to the hotel. When I eventually gave up and went into a 5-star Hotel Rabat, the receptionist told me the Yasmine Hotel is literally just around the corner.
I went back to sleep late, hoping the next and final day is going to be uneventful… but was it really so?
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