The Menara Airport in Marrakech is small and basic and when I got through all the security, customs, etc., I found myself faced with a choice between the door headed outside and various interesting looking little car rental agencies. I had originally intended to go from Marrakech to Essaouira and spend a few days at the beach, but since Royal Air Maroc had decided to give me an extra day in their country, I had been toying with changing my itinerary and driving out into the Sahara first. I saw no taxis immediately in front of me. I saw at least a half dozen car rental agencies instead. Allah had intervened. I was headed for the desert.
The owner whose agency was fortuitously located closest to the door made himself difficult to ignore anyway. He had a car for $30 per day, if I rented it for 5 days. When I hesitated, he insisted that I go out and inspect the car. It was nothing fancy--most notably, it didn't have an air conditioner. But who needs air conditioning in the Sahara in May, when you can just leave the windows open and take your chances with the wind, the sand, and whatever else flies into the car?
There was one additional snag. He could only take payment in cash. The little exchange office in the airport was closed, and I had no Moroccan money. So one of his employees got into the car with me, and we headed toward town to find a bank. That's when I caught sight of what I the world I had entered. I seemed to have stepped back in time at least a century. Driving to the bank involved dodging loads of pedestrians, donkeys, and donkey carts; people's dress varied from Western to very traditional Moroccan, though I saw no veiled women covered head to foot in black. The ATM at the bank started with the worst of nightmares for a foreigner trying to get cash--it swallowed my card and would not give it back. Fortunately, the bank was open, and I was able to retrieve it, get my cash, return to the airport, and conclude the deal.
In Morocco, you do not start off with a full tank of gas. In fact, you had better find a gas pump pretty quickly. I headed back into town and soon needed help with that, but a local provided it. Whether he expected payment, I do not know. He did not ask. I gassed up, and then I am sure that had anyone traced my route on a map, it would have looked like a complete jumble as I tried to find my way out of town in the direction of Ouarzazate and the Sahara. At one point, I found myself driving through the narrow streets of the medina (the old town), which is a recipe for getting lost. Asking directions helped some. Eventually, I did find my way out to a highway which led out of town and could be taken in various directions. I set my sight on the High Atlas Mountains looming in the distance, turning south. It was still early in the day, and I hoped to make it across the mountain range by nightfall. Having gotten little sleep, I should have been really drowsy, but the place was so exotic and exciting, like nothing I had ever seen before, that my adrenaline was running plenty strong. I would be going strong all day and well into the night.
No comments:
Post a Comment