After only three days in Morocco, I believe I have come to understand the Moroccan driver just a little. I firmly believe it is not that Moroccan drivers are necessarily agressive; rather I believe they are opportunitistic, seeing every little possible hole in the constant wave of pedestrians, donkey carts, horse-drawn buggies (called caleches), bicycles, motorbikes, other cars and delivery trucks all walking and driving fearlessly and directly through town with a number of Moroccan curses and a constant stream of honking to alert all others that YOU have been the clever driver to have spotted that tiny hole in traffic first.
Now add the ever-present roundabouts and seeming lack of math ability (there is a speed limit but it is rarely posted and no one seems to pay attention to it) and you basically understand the traffic situation in Marrakesh. Frankly, driving in Marrakesh takes balls. I think that is why driving is almost solely done by male Morrocans. Not that women do not travel by vehicle - you see them in their lovely djellabas sitting side-saddle, confidently hanging on to their chosen gladiator with their backs very straight but completely relaxed on said gladiators' motorbikes. Meanwhile, you, the visitor to this madhouse, sit perhaps in the front seat and wonder why you let your life insurance lapse.
My hosts, Massine (his Amazigh name) and Adrienne, a friend relocated from my home town of Tucson, picked me up from the Marrakesh airport and the drive to 'have some lunch' was my very first adventure in Morocco. Then it was another adventurous drive to the middle of town and its ancient souk. I wonder whether these trips are somewhat preparatory for travelers for the initial souk adventure of having a writhing snake pushed in your face by the first snake charmer you might encounter.
By the time I passed the snake charmer, one of the first sights you might see at the entrance to the souk, perhaps my danger limit had been exceeded and I was just on autopilot. I didn't even blink, to the dissatisfaction of the snake's 'manager', who expected to extort a tip from me by 'protecting me' from having the snake wrap around my neck. Heck the snake wasn't even a viper; those - four of them including 2 cobras and 2 others that looked very much like my own native Diamondbacks - were undulating on the ground a few feet away to the beat of the snake charmers' drum and flute.
After walking around in the colorful souk, tempted by all the beautiful scarves and purses and spices and olives and...... it was once more time to board our BMW chariot and head to ' have a rest' before dinner. It seemed that only more gladiators had joined the melee as it was nearly sundown and locals, tourists and travelers alike were arriving at the entry of the souk for a Sunday night's entertainment.
The art of parking is very much part of the art of driving in Morocco. To park, one must first find a reltively empty hole in the line of cars lined up wherever cars are lined up but with an attendant wearing a yellow vest to signal that HE would be the protector of your car, helping you slide your car into the available spot after having everyone exit the passenger's side, and then colluding with street merchants to set up temporary shop right in back of your bumper in order to keep other drivers from damaging your vehicle. Then of course on your return and payment for his excellent service, your watcher (or his colleague) is there to help you squeeze out of your spot and merge with the line of traffic which he so gallantly stops with his very own body.
Believe me, this all works. The reason I know it works is because I am alive to pen this post - not only after this adventure but an even more challenging one up and over the Atlas Mountains. Have you ever been in a bumper car ride with some really challenging kids intent on passing everyone ahead of them all along misjudging the distance between, in front of and in back of the other cars? Think of this and you will almost have the picture of what happens on the National Highway from Marrakesh up and over the mountains to Ouarzazate.
Normally, I would reference the number but it does not show up on the two maps I managed to find. The thing is, this National Highway simply does not meet the standards of the American Association of State Highway and Transportation Officials in any way- you know, the folks who wrote the book on what you can and cannot build for the highways in the States. I'm sure the engineers from AASHTO could hardly wait to get out their pens and calculators if they saw the winding, narrow two-lane highway that carries most of the freight and tourists from busy Marrakesh to and from the verdant river valleys on the other side of the Atlas Mountains.
The first thing I noticed was the lack of decent shoulders (as in mostly none), then I noticed how far apart were the pullouts. I suppose the first time we came up behind a lumbering truck I remembered I hadn't seen anything like a passing lane. So when our driver decided he had tired of the scenery the back side of a delivery truck presented and began looking for that 'opportunity' to pull around it, I took careful notes, should I would ever need to do the same.
First, just like in States, if you are a careful (or at least smart) driver, you will have been observing oncoming traffic from the many twists and turns that provide you that view. Second, when you think you have an opportunity to do so, you pull slightly into oncoming traffic in order to cross-check your opinion that there is sufficient room to get around the truck before being driven off the road or possibly coming into contact with a vehicle bigger than you (the philosophy of chicken is to exhibit more bravado than your opponent). In those few seconds, it is also important to have checked for possible unknown curves or side roads from which an unexpected vehicle could pull into the lane traveling opposite of you.
Pulling out to check on your passing status seems to be a signal for the observant and cooperative truck driver in front of you to put on his left turn signal, affirming that you are free to pull around. I found that signal reassuring at times the mountainside on the other side or next to my seat in the front dipped immediately below my view. Our driver sometimes found it helpful to call other drivers rude Morrocan names in order to convince them they needed to slow down so he could maneuver the vehicle around or in between two trucks.
Another driving tip - it is useful to stay as close as possible to the posted speed limit unless you feel driving faster might help under the current road conditions. That, and calling the other drivers rude names, seem to assure safe passage on that tiny, twisty road. I also noted that having the passengers frequently and plaintively remind the driver to slow down or be careful around a curve does very little to change the driver's strategies.
One final tip. You might want to practice holding your breath before you attempt to drive or ride on Moroccan National Highway between Marakech and Ouarzazate. Driving that road for the first time is probably not the best time to find out holding your breath makes you pass out as you or your driver powers around that big truck in front of you.
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