Wimp Out

Below s a transcript of an interview between my superego and my conscious on the road back to Tangier and Spain.  The superego, as it often does, is doing the questioning, and the conscious mind answers. 

Q: So, you are wimping out on bike touring in Morocco, huh?
A: Pretty much. 
Q: Developing world too much for you, then?
A: Well, hold the phone a second.  I don't want to leave Morocco so much as I don't want to bike tour here any more.
Q: Aside from the unsafe roads, insane driving, hostile people, vicious dogs, and lack of facilities, what are your concerns?
A: Maybe being the constant focal point of scorn and derision everywhere I go also has something to do with it too. Also riding past a never ending pile of garbage.  Gets old after a while. 
Q: so what's next?
A: glad you asked.  Looks like I am going to make an arc up through Andalucia with my remaining time, hopefully including Ronda, Granada , and Cordoba.  So there is definitely a strong pull factor, as well as the push. 
Q: Oh, I see.  You like long stretches of good road, scenic views, no hassle, and a large supply of red wine, do you?
A: Yes. Yes, I do like those things.
Q: So from a practical standpoint, how does this work? Does this mess up your plans? 
A: Arguably, it makes things easier.  I was going to have to fly with the bike from Marrakesh, which likely would have been a hassle.  Now I just need to take this bus ride back up to Tangier, and another one two weeks later from Cordoba to Lisbon.  And then I have my nice bike box to put everything in for the flight home.  The busses are pretty easy and cheap- at least in Morocco they are. 
Q: So Morocco was a disaster, huh?
A: Not at all!  Apart from a few unpleasant experiences, I have really enjoyed it, and learned quite a bit.  The food was great, and I met a lot of nice people.  Besides, all the trouble is what makes for great stories later on.  People kinda tune out when you talk about the great wine in Portugal, but everybody likes the image of me fleeing the Mocking Dead. 
Q: Have you considered people don't like you and take pleasure in your discomfort?
A: What's not to like?  I'm amazing. 
Q: You don't smell too good...
A: Yeah, well, I have not figured out how to get laundry done here. And the shower was tepid at best, so I still have soap in my hair.  It's 40 degrees in the mornings and evenings when I'm around that hostel!
Q: Moving on, what answer do you have to your critics? 
A: How about you try riding a hundred pound bike up and down the busiest, dirtiest, hilliest street in your town while dressed as a French mine and bearing a sign reading "God hates America".  See how long you make it.   Also have the option of at any point being able to switch the next day to a delightful bike path with wonderful scenery full of other mimes who think you are the best mime, and express their pleasure (since they can't talk)in the form of very cheap and delicious red wine and paella.  Okay, so maybe my analogy fell apart there a bit at the end, but you know what I am saying. 
Q: Man, you really smell, dude.  The poor woman beside you in the bus is totally dying. 
A: I know.  This is the first time I have been in a heated space in a week.  Really sorry about that. 
Q: well, on that note, that about wraps things up.  Any final thoughts?
A: Besides what a lazy question that was?
Q: Hey, it's your superego. 
A: I'm good.  And looking really forward to the next leg!