Northern African: Morocco - The Lions on the Road: Cycling London to Cape Town - page 73

ize my trip to Las Palmas. I spent the day in the compound and just chatted with anyone
who entered the canteen. I met several peacekeepers who worked in the former Yugoslavia
and they shared the ugly side of what they experienced. At least in the Spanish Sahara,
there was no violence. Eventually, Commander Sawchuck returned to say that my seat on
the flight was set and so I walked back to my hotel and planned for my early departure the
next morning.
August 18, 1992 proved to be an incredibly exciting day for me. I wanted to arrive
at the airport at 4:45 for my 5:30 flight. However, I woke up at 4:39. I shot out of bed and
scrambled to leave by 4:44. I cycled in the darkness and with the help of a stranger found
the right road. I sped to the airport and arrived at 4:55. I handed in my passport and em-
barkation card and chatted with Mrs. Paraldi. Ten minutes before departure, my passport
was returned to me and I was told that I couldn't leave because I needed a letter of permis-
sion from the governor of Laayoune. Mrs. Paraldi stepped in and suggested that I speak to
theliaisonofficialatHQnamedAidawhoknewthegovernorpersonally.Soafterwatching
my plane lift off, I made my way to CASO HQ in search of Aida.
An International Incident Begins to Unfold
This was when the excitement really started. As I cycled onto the entrance drive-
way, I was stopped by security guards- the same ones who let me enter previously without
incident. I told them that I was permitted to enter and that I wanted to speak to Aida. They
refused to let me in and told me to go to the liaison office down the road. I was about to
start arguing when a bus load of American and Canadian peacekeepers stopped at the foot
of the driveway. As they walked by, many who recognized me said hello. I asked them
if they knew who Aida was and if they did, to call him to the entrance. They then asked
me why was I outside with the guards. When I told them that I wasn't permitted in, they
vouched for me insisting that “He's OK to enter.' Again, the guards refused. One Cana-
dian peacekeeper told me to hold on as he went to get someone to help. Moments later,
out came a corporal from CASO who again vouched for me, and again, the guards didn't
budge. One of the Moroccan guards in fact snapped my passport from my hand and began
to walk away. I flipped out and shouted, “Give me back my passport!”
Suddenly out came two commanders (Commander Sawchuck and another) and
General Block from Peru the head of the whole operations in the Spanish Sahara. The Mo-
roccan security forces rushed to the entrance and soon there were at least 30 armed men
surrounding me, my bicycle and the guard who took my passport. Voices rose as a standoff
ensued.