Morocco's Ugly Face

Breakfast was included in our stay and consisted of a small buffet with bread, jam, eggs, tea, and freshly squeezed orange juice. A light but delicious spread. We had a long travel day ahead of us since our next stop was the desert near Merzouga. It would take about 5-6 hours for a bus to get there and cost 46 dirhams per ticket, so when a man offered to drive us for 80 dirhams per person and promised to get us there in 3 hours, we jumped at the chance. He lived in Merzouga himself and was on his way home, so it seemed fine to ride with him. He appeared very eager to have us on board, but there was something about him that made us a bit wary—we couldn’t quite read his attitude, but at least we were two of us. We hadn’t gone far when he asked if we wanted to stay at his hotel in Merzouga. We politely declined. But that didn’t stop him. He kept asking if we wanted to check out his hotel: “Just looking...” After two hours, he was still asking if we wanted to see his hotel. It was called Riad Totmaroc and was highly recommended in Lonely Planet. This guy, whether he owned the place or not, was definitely bad advertising for it. The more he asked us to check it out, the more resistant we became to the idea. We might have considered staying there if it hadn’t been for this guy practically shoving the hotel down our throats. Before we set off, I had taken a picture of him because I thought he had a funny hat on. Later, he brought this up, claiming that I had ONLY taken his photo to show it to the police. That hadn’t even crossed our minds. Our driver had his own way of doing things on the road, waving his finger and cursing every time we passed another car, as if everyone else didn’t know how to drive. If we approached a narrow bridge, he would speed up, forcing everyone else to jump for their lives, while all the other cars had to wait for him, even if they were further out on the bridge. He was the king of the road. There were some small stalls set up for passing tourists that he wanted us to stop at. We politely declined. This triggered a lengthy lecture about how we were missing out on Morocco by not being open and welcoming. He was a Berber himself, from a proud Berber family, who only wanted to show us the best of Morocco. We should remember that it’s not all about money here, but about relationships. If we stopped to take pictures, one of us would always stay with the car and our luggage. It’s a procedure we always follow, no matter what country we’re in. Our driver took this as a sign that we didn’t trust him. He got really angry and dramatically threw the keys over to us, suggesting we could check that he wouldn’t drive off without us. As the trip went on, he became more and more insistent that we should go to his hotel. We hadn’t promised him anything and kept saying we had another hotel in mind. There’s a paved road all the way from Rissani to Merzouga, but suddenly we found ourselves in the middle of the desert, where he sped off like a madman, while the whole car bounced and swayed in the sand. He laughed and said he regularly drove this route. We shouldn’t worry about a thing. Suddenly, he stopped the car, claiming something was wrong. The engine had been running fine until he stopped it and got out to check. After that, it wouldn’t start again. What had he messed with...? Now we were stuck in the middle of the desert, 20 km from Merzouga. A passing car came to our rescue and towed our car. Lucky us. The story doesn’t end there. Our driver started shouting and screaming that we brought him bad luck, that we were racists, and that we had to pay him 800 dirhams to get his car fixed. He had chosen to drive out into the desert, even though there was a paved road. He also kept pressuring us to stay at his hotel. Later, we found out that he was actually heading toward his hotel, even though we had never agreed to check it out. Most hotels in Merzouga are spread out along the desert, so they have the best views. Our driver was taking a back road to his hotel without us knowing. A real schemer. When our rescue vehicle reached the paved road again, we insisted on getting out. Our driver followed us, even though we told him to continue without us. He jumped out and was now completely out of control. He called us liars, racists, “crazy people,” etc. He claimed our country was the most racist in the world. Muslims were going to take over our country and “screw” us over. He was really unpleasant. We were both completely fed up with him. He especially yelled at me and gave me the finger. When men talk, women are supposed to be quiet. That didn’t make me quiet at all. Maybe it was very provocative for him that a woman stood up to him... And believe me, he heard exactly what I thought of his behavior. In the middle of the argument, another car stopped, offering to take us to Merzouga for free—we did give them 100 dirhams for their trouble. Our driver was about to jump in the car with us. But it was either him or us.