Final drive in Marrakech was very easy. That early (before 9am) there’s very little traffic. You do still need your wits though, especially on roundabouts.
Moroccan roundabouts seem to confuse people but there are four very basic rules:
1 – give way to people on the roundabout, unless
2 – people entering the roundabout had a traffic light to get on, in which case guve them priority
3 – no matter how many lanes are marked, the approach to a roundabout and the roundabout itself have as many lanes as you can fit cars abreast. In Morocco this means two lanes marked can support three cars and four mopeds.
4 – always apex the roundabout.
Seriously, that last point. You can have two lanes of traffic doing 50 towards a roundabout. They’ll slow to 30 and then merge so that both lanes can hit the apex. Motorbikes hit it and pedal cyclists do too. In towns most roundabouts have a policeman stood at them and he completely disregards this.
Picking up my car took over 2 hours. Giving it back took 10 minutes. This was a relief but also means a 2 hour wait at the airport.
Im very disappointed with the airport. They have two sandwich bars that also sell cakes, a patisserie that also sells sandwiches, a fast food burger outlet and a sushi cafe. No tagines, no Moroccan breads with meaty fillings, nothing decent at all. But that’s fine, time to restart the diet – don’t think I’ve gained weight here but still over 2 stone to go anyway.
Gate next to mine was flying to Casablanca. That’s weird, like getting a flight from East Midlands to Manchester. Sure, the flight is quicker than driving but security checks, sitting at the gate, getting through arrivals, transit to/from the airport.. it’s quicker, easier and more comfortable to drive!
Airport security was comical. The scan your bags as you enter the airport then scan your hand luggage as you enter departures. Which is fine but they check your passport on both occasions, and as you check in, as you join the security queue, after you leave the security queue, at passport control and again after passport control. Then when you go through the departure gate and again on the aircraft.
It’s weird, add it to the constant police roadblocks and it feels a paranoid country. The hotels in Marrakech, Casablanca and Fes have metal detectors on the doors. I chose to ignore them, either walking past them or going through and not even acknowledging the sirens my camera bag set off.
Parking in the hotel garage yesterday someone used a mirror to check the underside of the car then looked in the boot. That’s taking security seriously so I guess they do have a genuine concern. Similarly military bases, the Airport, various palaces all have armed soldiers visibly guarding them – including sentry towers every couple of hundred yards.
But the hotels on the desert side of the mountains had no security, nobody was concerned, hotel keys are left in the room doors when unoccupied.. it’s all very relaxed. So I’m not sure why the paranoia elsewhere.
I’d ask a local but language barriers prevent that complex a conversation. That’s a regret, would’ve preferred easier communications. Got by though, between my dodgy French, their dodgy English and sign language everything got sorted.
I did end up using my phone as a way to compare numbers yesterday. Random bloke on a mountain wanted to sell me some agate. He wanted 2600 dirham for it, which is about £215. I didn’t have 2600 on day one of the trip, let alone day 7.
The thing is that even without bargaining him down that was a very good price for the rock he was trying to sell me. It would go for £7-800 in the UK. But random blokes on a mountain don’t take visa..
First half of the flight was through those clear blue skies I’d enjoyed most of the week. I got to see Gibraltar. It was pretty, the med twinkling in the sun.
Speaking of the sun..
Today’s Drive (the bit in Morroco):
No hotel, back home 🙂