“Give him an offering, my lady, for there is not greater tragedy than that of the blind man in Granada.” So goes a quote, allegedly said to a woman passing a beggar on the street in Granada.

Leaving Africa was like saying goodbye to a dear friend. As the ferry roared out of the El Hoceima port, we watched the foggy cliffs of the Dark Continent fade into the mist. But soon there was something new drawing my eye to the north—the high snow-capped peaks of the Sierra Nevada range in Spain’s southern district of Andalucia.

A week before finishing up our tour, I looked down at my tires and smiled. Luckily I made the right choice just one day before we left six months ago.

A non-bike related post about photography from a street photographer’s playground.

On our last day of cycling in the High Atlas, our bicycles decided to seek revenge for all of the punishment we’ve put them through…

Once again we ran for the hills…

A few photos from our trek through the Draa Valley and Dades Gorge, in route to the High Atlas Mountains…

A three day cycling route, cut to two, through the Sahara, includes sand, camels, a dust storm and eight flat tires.

On our current tour I am rolling with a somewhat minimal kit, assembled for covering long distances over mixed surfaces (as much off-road as possible), in fairly primitive environments. Although there are a few slight modifications I would make (noted), this is pretty close to the perfect kit for me.

A slight dramatization of actual events…

The start of our journey through southern Morocco…

Twenty-one portraits to wrap up our travels in east Africa…