We left Marrakech on Sunday morning having said goodbye to our fellow travellers and our Desert Detours tour guides Ray, Steve and Hamid. We were now on our own! We drove south towards Agadir along a peage motorway. It had been pleasantly warm in Marrakech and it grew even warmer as we drove south, 30 degrees with a warm wind. Our campsite was a fruit farm owned by an erudite Frenchman who supplied produce to British supermarkets, mostly citrus. We spent two days relaxing amongst the trees, the only other campers there were Germans. We cooked a barbecue the first evening and a little dog appeared when we started cooking the meat. It was a very friendly dog and we assumed it belonged to someone local and was hoping to cadge some supper; we were careful not to feed it. The next morning when we opened the blinds, there was the dog, happy to see us. It had spent the night under our van, occasionally barking at things in the night. Everyone thought it was our dog. We spoke to the French owner and he told us his manager had given it food and, no doubt, it would remain with him on the farm. We were sorry to have to leave such a lovely place which was only spoiled by the flies, the sort that don’t jump away when you swiped them – only a direct hit moved them on, only to return seconds later. The locals just ignore them.