Crossing the road in Marakech - the Anderson way
Now some would think it unkind of me to make fun of Miss Anderson, especially as she travelled so far to be here, with the expectation that she might see something of this fine country other than Marakech. However for those of you who know me, you know that I am unlikely to let compassion get in the way of a good story.
For here in Marakech we have multiple lanes of traffic containing a mixture of scooters, cars, vans, donkeys and horse drawn carriages (the smell of shit is quite something in some parts).
Crossing the road, as you can imagine, can be quite an adventure. But as with all things style and nonchalance are things that one should try and retain. It is possible, with practice, to step out into the road and thread your way between the various vehicles. As far as I can tell the drivers of Morocco do not wish to kill pedestrians - so it's possible to take a few chances and gamble on them hitting the brakes.
So far, after 9 days in the city these lessons seem to have passed Miss A by. She approaches crossing the road with a mixture of grim determination and great gusto. She does sometimes start off across the road quite calmly but at some point panic sets in and she bursts into a run, skipping across the tarmac with adrenalin coursing through her vains. What is worse for me is that she trys to use me as a guide, following half a pace behind, often the difference between safety and road kill! This is written in part as a disclaimer in case the worst should happen and she end up mangled beneath a donkey cart.
Mrs Anderson, if you're reading this I'm sure your daughter's safe really.
Just one of the many interesting side stories from this African adventure.
For here in Marakech we have multiple lanes of traffic containing a mixture of scooters, cars, vans, donkeys and horse drawn carriages (the smell of shit is quite something in some parts).
Crossing the road, as you can imagine, can be quite an adventure. But as with all things style and nonchalance are things that one should try and retain. It is possible, with practice, to step out into the road and thread your way between the various vehicles. As far as I can tell the drivers of Morocco do not wish to kill pedestrians - so it's possible to take a few chances and gamble on them hitting the brakes.
So far, after 9 days in the city these lessons seem to have passed Miss A by. She approaches crossing the road with a mixture of grim determination and great gusto. She does sometimes start off across the road quite calmly but at some point panic sets in and she bursts into a run, skipping across the tarmac with adrenalin coursing through her vains. What is worse for me is that she trys to use me as a guide, following half a pace behind, often the difference between safety and road kill! This is written in part as a disclaimer in case the worst should happen and she end up mangled beneath a donkey cart.
Mrs Anderson, if you're reading this I'm sure your daughter's safe really.
Just one of the many interesting side stories from this African adventure.
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