Well, it’s finally here. There shouldn’t really be much to say about the journey out to Morocco, but I managed to spice things up a bit. .....
Catching
the 6:30am flight from Manchester down to Gatwick,
I would arrive in plenty of time to make the
lunchtime flight to Ouzarzate.
I took all my food in hand luggage, taking no
chances for loss, and wore my running gear, shoes
and all, to be completely safe. There is only
really one item you need to remember at all costs,
passport aside; your medical certificate and ECG.
Had I met someone who I forgotten such a thing, he
would surely by an imbecile? I mean, what kind of
cock would actually leave their ECG at home?
I was standing by the arrivals luggage carousal in
Gatwick at around 8am when I realised my medical
certificate and ECG were sat at home. That was 4 ½
hours before the flight to Morocco, no time to get
back. No time to get it couriered down to Gatwick,
or out to Morocco. Amex help desk couldn’t sort
this one out.
I could have missed my flight and picked up a
scheduled service via Casablanca for £800, plus
£200 to get the thing couriered down, and
ultimately arrive in the early hours (which one
competitor had to do as he missed the flight), but
not exactly cost effective.
Did it really matter? Well, you can’t run without
one. The rules also stipulate it has to be a colour
original; photo copies would not suffice. Hence,
the panic. Unfortunately, the UK representatives
from Best of Morocco have no power as such within
the race organisation and they could only quote the
rules. Best case scenario would be a loss of
deposit and a fresh medical and ECG undertaken at
registration. Well so what? My concern would be
standing in a queue, blood pressure up on the day,
and next thing, “Non, ne vas pas”. You’re out, that
simple, two years of planning down the drain. I
took the original flight and my wife faxed the
documents out, which were ready at the hotel when I
arrived. Hopefully this would help my case at
registration on Saturday.
It was easy to spot other competitors, big
rucksacks, generally
Raidlight, and
a strange mix of sporty/unseasonal outfits. I met
up with people I had seen at previous races during
the year, including Keith Evans, who had run a
course on the MDS the previous autumn, and many
others for the first time. By the time we had
landed, suddenly we had a tent of five, (Keith,
myself, Jason, Alex and Richard).
After landing, previous competitors had suggested
taking taxis to the hotel to avoid the queues, a
good plan although we took the first coach. The key
to checking in is having your own pen; a pen means
you can fill out the forms; you’re next in line in
an instant!
The hotel for the British competitors is the Berber
Palace, the best hotel in town. The food was
excellent, although before the race, we were all a
little hesitant to get stuck into the wide variety
of local dishes and salads on offer.
A night in the bar, a few beers, but I was still
nervous and feeling somewhat ridiculous about the
ECG and medical certificate. At least I had a fax
copy to prove I was fit to go should my vitals
suddenly go awry!