To Fez!
We opted for a grand taxi for the four of us to Fez - both or the comfort, and because the bus wasn’t scheduled to leave for another 6 hours.
The ride started out all wrong. I was hungry from just eating a small amount of bread hours earlier for breakfast – but was told we would stop in the next town and get lunch. For the first hour and a half the cab kept saying he would stop to eat in 20 minutes, but never did.
He sped around the winding roads, passing everyone. This compounded with our hunger and our language barrier made gave us all a good deal of stress. Three of us were just plain angry at the driver, but it was our fourth, Adan, who suggested we try to buy the driver lunch and appeal to his human side.
Although we found a translator at the café to talk to the driver through, tensions were still high back on the road. Adan sat in the front and the two began to bond over broken French. Before too long, the cabbie was driving prudently, and became much nicer - a great relief to all of us.
Our driver had a long day ahead of him. 6 hours to Fez, and then 6 hours back. On the way, he flagged down a cabbie going the opposite direction, and proposed to him a passenger switch, which meant each driver got to head home immediately while carrying the other’s passengers. A large group exited our new cab – one of them looking deathly frail, with a bandage wrapped around his head. The other men carries his limp body to the new cab – and I felt badly that he had to move. Apparently he had been injured in a small bus accident.
Our new driver was friendly, and drove prudently the remainder of the way to Fez, and I began emailing my brother through my Blackberry requesting the name of a reasonably priced hotel with internet.
The ride started out all wrong. I was hungry from just eating a small amount of bread hours earlier for breakfast – but was told we would stop in the next town and get lunch. For the first hour and a half the cab kept saying he would stop to eat in 20 minutes, but never did.
He sped around the winding roads, passing everyone. This compounded with our hunger and our language barrier made gave us all a good deal of stress. Three of us were just plain angry at the driver, but it was our fourth, Adan, who suggested we try to buy the driver lunch and appeal to his human side.
Although we found a translator at the café to talk to the driver through, tensions were still high back on the road. Adan sat in the front and the two began to bond over broken French. Before too long, the cabbie was driving prudently, and became much nicer - a great relief to all of us.
Our driver had a long day ahead of him. 6 hours to Fez, and then 6 hours back. On the way, he flagged down a cabbie going the opposite direction, and proposed to him a passenger switch, which meant each driver got to head home immediately while carrying the other’s passengers. A large group exited our new cab – one of them looking deathly frail, with a bandage wrapped around his head. The other men carries his limp body to the new cab – and I felt badly that he had to move. Apparently he had been injured in a small bus accident.
Our new driver was friendly, and drove prudently the remainder of the way to Fez, and I began emailing my brother through my Blackberry requesting the name of a reasonably priced hotel with internet.
posted by Samantha Farbman at 12:06 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home