Seymour Travels Small Group Tours

Returning Home ~ A Great Adventure Several months after starting out on our epic and life changing trip, we found ourselves once again in a cross channel ferry port awaiting embarkation... this time back to England. Our Afrique sign (used for 'thumbing' lifts as hitchhikers) was discarded long ago, because it had taken us across Europe into North Africa. A piece of cardboard that we had used to get us home...a simple Union flag painted onto it... had gotten us back to Le Havre. Much wiser and somehow, many years older, we patted each other on the back as we boarded for the crossing. We got into Portsmouth Harbour, very late at night, but being the hardened travellers that we had become, we were not phased by the prospect of sleeping in a bus shelter or perhaps in one of the fortress towers that encompass part of the town....all was good... we had after all just arrived home. We were both euphoric ! the feeling of accomplishment was immense, and I know that we had both cast off

Onward to Fes... And A Scuffle ! I'm sitting here, at this moment, drinking tea..... a nice cup of tea ! I'm English  and its what we do! On a fateful morning, many moons ago, we decide that we had to move on. And it was over a cup of sweet tea that we made our plans. We'd already spent several days languishing in Ouezzane....the people were wonderful and we'd been enjoying the food immensely... but our feet were itching and wanderlust was driving us onwards.  Our next destination was to be the medieval fortress city of Fes. You may ask why ? My simple answer is because its there and we wanted to see the place that gave its name to what is, a rather odd hat with a tassle. So off we went. The public bus was once again our main means of transport. Hiking across the mountains was not an option in those days. There was too much risk attached to it. Hitchhiking was 'improbable' because of the lack of roads with vehicles on them. So once again it was to be a beaten up

A Skateboard Shock And A Goat Leaving Ceuta on the north coast of Morocco and well into our 3rd month on the road, we had decided to carry on South. Rumours had reached us of a virtual border war between Algeria and Morocco and it was felt by us that prudence was the better part of valour. Our original intent was to go west but south it was to be. We were headed to a place called Ouezzane and this meant crossing the mountains. Once again filling our canteens with clean water and after devouring our muesli, a staple of ours so far, that was coming to an end now, we headed towards a tatty and really forlorn bus station in the middle of the town. After some hasty negotiations we had discovered that the next bus headed out was actually headed in our direction....and it was leaving. We ran, shouted and waved, all of which helped attract the attention of the driver, who looked at us with incredulity...remember.. this was before the days of mass tourism to Morocco, and we must've been qui

Into North Africa. Dunes, Camels and Tea Waving goodbye to Spain and catching a glimpse of the great island fortress of Gibraltar, We embarked on the ferry trip to Ceuta.  I know that some of you have never heard of it and yet you probably have heard of the political wrangling between the EU and Britain over the territory of Gibraltar.......... what those bodies never talk about is that Ceuta is a Spanish territory on the mainland of North Africa, in what would otherwise be Morrocco..... I think there's a moral there somewhere. We arrived safely and disembarked into rather a shabby port town. I had never seen real poverty before, but over the next few weeks that would change. Ceuta was the first clue of what was to come. We walked and walked. Again it was another scorching hot day, but the sea breeze felt good and following it we found ourselves on a vast stretch of beach. We headed East following a line of immense dunes and of course the waves on our other side, roaring as they cr