Customs in Tangier

After getting through customs in Tangier, which was gruelling because the T shirts we were wearing, showing the route to Gaza, depicted a disputed part of Morocco as Algeria. This enraged local dignitaries and more unfortunately the plethora of uniformed security forces who despite having a delightful array of uniforms all seemed to be doing the same thing. Which was mostly writing our number plates down and staring mystically at our perfectly in order paper work.

Some of the convoy revealed themselves to be about as politically astute as Ian Paisley's daughter saying she wants to marry Gerry Adams, by chanting slogans and praise to Allah. No doubt Israeli intelligence were there. Such overtly political posturing will only undermine our humanitarian purpose.

Persuading the Israelis to lift their embargo is a delicate affair. Compassion is our plea and argument. Right now we are driving 6 to 8 hours to Fez after the organisers told us we only had to drive 20 to 30mins.

Now a thick fog has descended. Most people had little or no sleep last night because of having to catch the ferry at 7.30am. In actuality it took all day to get the convoy across from Spain because the ferry company had hugely over booked.

So nothing is easy, but the buzz of the Moroccan pople's appreciation of the convoy was uplifting and hints of what it might be in store should we ever get to Gaza, which we must. We have literally come too far now.