The Abstract Art of Moroccan Driving

Or perhaps one might say that it is an example of impressionism: from far away it looks ok, but up close it is one big mess. Let me explain.

We made the wise choice not to hire a car in Morocco (thankfully: the driving has been getting worse the closer we have been getting to the equator), so I can only provide a perspective on the topic from the point of view of a passenger and a pedestrian. There are several things that stand out in the driving stakes here in Morocco, and in the style of my earlier posts on Spanish and French driving, here they are one by one:

First, if we thought the signs were crap in Spain, we had another thing coming. Not only are most things (including streets) not signposted, where they are, it is unclear in what direction or to what they are referring (this renders the fact that they are in French as well as Arabic utterly useless).

Secondly, there are no lanes. At least, that is what appears to be the case to the untrained eye. On closer inspection, there are faint white lines on the road, although they might as well not be there, as the drivers move back and forth between them and also on to the other side of the road. In fact, each car appears to treat the entire road as its own, with the consequence that cars will overtake into oncoming traffic and expect those coming in the opposite direction to move to the shoulder (if there is one). This appears to be assisted, like all other road manoeuvering here, by a liberal use of the car's horn.

Like the lines (or lack thereof), traffic lights are few and far between. Yesterday we were in a taxi which stopped, it seemed to us, for no reason in the middle of the road. It turned out that there was a red traffic light, conveniently located behind a tree. And given the lack of lines on the road, it would not have been possible to know it was there, unless you already knew. Thank god I'm not driving here!

Fourthly, the lack of lines and lights is repeated in the pedestrian sphere, with persons wishing to cross the road having to guess that the light for cars (the location of which is not quite clear, as mentioned) is red and hope that they will not in fact be run over by the stream of cars bearing down upon them. It is not wise to expect cars to stop for you, even when you step out into the traffic (which has been necessary at crossings in Spain and Portugal). Here, they do not stop, but beep at you angrily. Imagine - a person getting in the way of the traffic! Outrageous! Accordingly, we have sought shelter behind locals and cross the road with them.

And finally, as if all this isn't dangerous enough in a country in which tailgating is the norm and cars already inside a roundabout have to give way to cars entering it, seatbelts are few and far between. On the few occasions where we have been lucky enough to find a seatbelt in a taxi, we have been told not to put it on by the driver! Usually we all make a joke about it (a nervous one on our part), which results in us explaining that it is no offence, but in Australia that is our custom. But not so this afternoon... our driver appeared to take real offence (in his words: "Non non non non non!") and we had to put our lives into fate's hands again.