Crazy driving

We have now landed in the US, but this was a draft that I never posted. I won’t quickly forget driving in Morocco…

When I step into the car my mind often goes to the 80s song by the Fine Young Cannibals, “She drives me crazy.” But I sing it with an “it” instead of a “she”–because IT definitely does drive me nutty! Driving drives me crazy here!

Someone gave me an illustration once of how driving works in Morocco. Picture your car as a speedboat and your goal is to get to your destination without hitting another “boat.” The lines are good suggestions but not always followed and we all kind of drift around the roundabouts. Image

This is my most unnerving type of road set up–the double line indicates a motor scooter or bicycle lane. But notice that it’s half of my own lane!  What should one do in this situation? I’m not quite sure. Do the boat thing and swerve around to not hit any other boats and get to your goal?! Once I had a man on a little scooter behind me in his bike lane. I heard this consistent beeping. I realized that it was him. I got the impression that he wanted me to move over so he could pass. I said to my passenger, “I’m bigger than that guy, where am I supposed to go?”

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I’m glad that one of my kids took this picture from the backseat. This was the route that we often took home when we crossed between two cities, Rabat to Sale, past the pottery place and up the big hill. It meant that we were almost home. And to glance at the insides of our 1997 Honda Odyssey again! We only sold this car three weeks ago yet now this life is an ocean away. More to come on our transition back…

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