Moroccan Dr. Frankenstein at work on the monster hearse.

It was hard to get out of our nice and comfy beds early in the morning to go to the mechanic that was going to change our gearbox. We dropped of Kristian on the way so that he could try another attempt at mission impossible - getting sleeping mats, blankets, hot sleeping bags and/or an inflatable instant hotel.

The mechanic got to work on our car and we did what we do best. Stand around in top hats and suits - watching other people work on our car. Communication is as usual a bit complicated, but using hand gestures and Pers latte-french got us both insight and confusion to the whole gearbox change process.

It is really interesting to see how people do their work here. The crew working on our car had it jacked up so that the wheels where barely touching the ground, but it was enough of an crawlspace for them to get out our gear box. It is a great amount of can-do-attitude and easy and small fixes to more or less complicated problems. (Technical warning) When a socket was too short to reach a nut that needed to be loosened the mechanic popped over to the welding and cutting shop next door and had the socket cut in two and welded a pipe in between the two parts - getting a long socket.

As we were standing around we got to watch everyday life in Agadir. Right next to our mechanic there is a vegetable-repacking service. Watching how they stacked insane amounts of crates onto the trucks was quite interesting. A load of cucumbers (or something similar) was stacked up some 6 meters - a couple meters above the top of the truck. This explains the slow moving overladen trucks we meet on winding mountain roads.

When our old gear box was out and was laying gutted on the table Per held a short service for it. Looking back on all the good times we had together and we had 10 seconds of silence before the gearbox was sent off to gearbox heaven. We hope it has lived a good life and will be resurrected as a spare part with an elusive third gear for the Moroccan market.

Finally lateish in the afternoon came 0-hour. Our gearbox has been changed. Oil had been filled into the new one. We were ready to transform and roll out. I got into the car. Started it up. Put it in reverse. And. Nothing. Gunning the engine did nothing either. Just the whining noise of failure. The car was simply not moving backwards. Going forwards was no problem. After a short discussion about if we could do the rest of the rally without reverse we came to the conclusion that - no - we really could not (picturing a border crossing - guns pointed at the car - a border guard shouting "BACK UP NOW OR WE WILL SHOT"... not a good thing). We needed another gearbox. It was getting dark fast and since the mechanic we use operate out on the ground in an ally there was no light. The quest for a functioning gearbox had to continue the next day. There would be another painful night in a hotel-bed and an agonizing hot shower the next day.