It turned out that the same lady sat next to me on the bus so we got to talking. She told me about her family (she pulled out photos of her children) and Morocco and her elderly mother who she was going to have lunch with in Ouazzane. She invited me to join them for lunch (her mother makes excellent cous cous) but I kindly refused due to the time constraints and my fear of being abducted by an old Moroccan woman. When we finally reached Ouazzane, she helped me get a grand taxi and I said goodbye to her.
The grand taxi lot was a dusty, dirt square filled haphazardly with old, rusted Mercedes-Benzs. A mountain of dilapidated houses over-looked the parking lot and rubbish was strewn everywhere. I waited patiently for the taxi to depart, but realised I had to wait for the whole taxi to be filled before I could go - or else I would have to pay for the extra seats. The driver explained to me the concept of a grand taxi - that the front passenger seat was the equivalent of two seats, and the back seat was to sit four people. Obviously seat belts, safety or comfort were not the taxi company's main concerns.
An old lady came along and we decided to share the front seat, with me sitting on the gear stick whilst she had enough room to keep her legs open. We waited and waited. And then a guy who was willing to pay for the entire front seat came along, so me and the old lady had to move to the back so he could sit in front. We waited and waited. Then the guy got fed up and left, so it was just me and the old lady again. She then directed me (using sign lanaguage because she only spoke Arabic) back to the front seat and it was back to the cramped position again. And we waited and waited.
The stifling heat and the gear stick up my rear soon forced me to ask the old lady to kindly move so I could get out. So we both exited the car. There was a French guy and a Moroccan guy standing outside the taxi waiting so I went and talked to them. As I talked to them the old lady disappeared, so it was just me and the French guy waiting for the taxi (the Moroccan guy was just a friend of the Frenchman who lived in Ouazanne). We talked and waited and waited. Then a guy came along and sat in the front passenger seat. We waited and waited. I had now waited well over an hour and was extremely late (as I was meant to meet the girls at the bus station). We soon got fed up so the French guy and I decided to pay for an extra seat each in the back. But the stupid guy in the front seat didn't want to pay for the extra seat in the front so at the end of it we had to pay for his extra seat too! What a tight arse! So in the end, the French guy and me paid for two and a half seats each.
The French guy and I were really pissed off at the other passenger, so we bitched about him in English in the backseat. But anyway, all was well. I talked to the French guy heaps and watched the lovely scenery outside. We would reach Chaouen in an hour.
A few photos. Enjoy!
On the bus
Ouazanne - the absolute hole of Morocco
(photo courtesy of Anju)
The grand taxi lot was a dusty, dirt square filled haphazardly with old, rusted Mercedes-Benzs. A mountain of dilapidated houses over-looked the parking lot and rubbish was strewn everywhere. I waited patiently for the taxi to depart, but realised I had to wait for the whole taxi to be filled before I could go - or else I would have to pay for the extra seats. The driver explained to me the concept of a grand taxi - that the front passenger seat was the equivalent of two seats, and the back seat was to sit four people. Obviously seat belts, safety or comfort were not the taxi company's main concerns.
An old lady came along and we decided to share the front seat, with me sitting on the gear stick whilst she had enough room to keep her legs open. We waited and waited. And then a guy who was willing to pay for the entire front seat came along, so me and the old lady had to move to the back so he could sit in front. We waited and waited. Then the guy got fed up and left, so it was just me and the old lady again. She then directed me (using sign lanaguage because she only spoke Arabic) back to the front seat and it was back to the cramped position again. And we waited and waited.
The stifling heat and the gear stick up my rear soon forced me to ask the old lady to kindly move so I could get out. So we both exited the car. There was a French guy and a Moroccan guy standing outside the taxi waiting so I went and talked to them. As I talked to them the old lady disappeared, so it was just me and the French guy waiting for the taxi (the Moroccan guy was just a friend of the Frenchman who lived in Ouazanne). We talked and waited and waited. Then a guy came along and sat in the front passenger seat. We waited and waited. I had now waited well over an hour and was extremely late (as I was meant to meet the girls at the bus station). We soon got fed up so the French guy and I decided to pay for an extra seat each in the back. But the stupid guy in the front seat didn't want to pay for the extra seat in the front so at the end of it we had to pay for his extra seat too! What a tight arse! So in the end, the French guy and me paid for two and a half seats each.
The French guy and I were really pissed off at the other passenger, so we bitched about him in English in the backseat. But anyway, all was well. I talked to the French guy heaps and watched the lovely scenery outside. We would reach Chaouen in an hour.
A few photos. Enjoy!
Me and the girls in Fez hotel
(photo courtesy of Anju)
(photo courtesy of Anju)
On the bus
Ouazanne - the absolute hole of Morocco(photo courtesy of Anju)
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