Taroudant to Tiznit - Day 162

Date: January 27th, 2010
Distance: 1.5 hours by taxi and 1 hour by bus
Country: Morocco
Song of the Day: Warning Sign - Coldplay

I woke up early today and checked out of my hotel. I didn't really have much to do, but I didn't want to spend another beautiful day inside like I had done with the previous one. So I started walking around the old town. Moroccans really do like their town walls. It really just isn't a town until you have walls. I also found a shop and bought a mirror for my bike. I am tired of trucks screaming up from behind with no warning. It will be nice to have a way to look behind me without having to around. I can't tell you the number of times that I have turned around and almost gotten a face full of truck. So I am happy about that.

My bike has really been a work in progress. I keep thinking I will do a post about what stuff I am using, but I seem to keep making changes to it. Maybe someday I will be happy with the way everything works. Until then I will just keep adding to it bit by bit.

While I was buying the mirror I got a call from Julian and we met up at her favorite orange juice place. The have a market similar to the one in Marrakech, but much smaller. Still the juice is just as good. From there we walked around the town and Julian told me about all the craziness in her life. I guess her host mom basically terrorized her until she left. They way she described it, it sounded like a nasty breakup. Her (former) host mom giving back any of Julians gifts. This apparently included a yogurt.

Since then Julian had found a new host family, and things were going much better. But she was still looking forward to going home in a couple months. She, like the PCVs I met, had a list of the things she wanted to do when she got back. I have one too, but it is mostly about food. I can really understand her feeling of being ready to go home. I am not ready to go back myself, but I have definitely come to the point where I feel like I have done enough in Morocco. I have been here five weeks, I am quite ready to head south.

So I said goodbye to Julian with a handshake, the only semi-acceptable gesture between two people who are of the opposite gender but aren't married. Julian, good luck. I hope the next couple of months go smoothly and you can enjoy your time.

I got back to the bus station and they kept telling me there weren't any busses to Agadir. That, I thought, was crap because I had just come here on a bus. No, the guy selling the bus tickets said it wasn't possible and sent me to the taxi stand. I figured I could argue, but if he wasn't selling me a ticket he must be at least partially right. So I crammed myself into the back of the taxi for the hour and a half ride to Agadir. The taxis are all old Mercedes sedans with six passengers. Six. So that means the driver and two people sit in front. I was crammed in the back with three other people. It was an unpleasant ride, and I am not that big. It must be just hell for people who are taller, or have broader hips or shoulders.

When we got to Agadir, I didn't have a clue where I was. I asked for the bus station, but again, they said there wasn't a bus station in Agadir. Urg. I remember the busses coming into town and going south. Plus I had biked my way out to the south and knew there was really only one road. So I headed that way. I spent an hour and a half walking before it got dark. At that point I decided it would be best to take a taxi.

I did find myself a taxi stand and asked them to take me to the bus station. Well it turns out there really is no bus station in Agadir. It is in a town 10km south called Inezgane. So I guess that is where I was. It turns out if you ask for a bus to Agadir from Casa or Rabat, they understand. But if you are closer they think you actually want to go to Agadir. Oh well, lesson learned.

As I was getting to the bus station there was a bus pulling out. The bag man was standing outside and I asked him if it was going to Tiznit, which it was. So I hopped on board. Since there is always a traffic jam outside of the bus station they sell tickets until the very last minute when it is roaring out of town. Once on the bus I got my own seat with no shoulders or elbows gouging me. What more could I ask?

It only took an hour or so to get to Tiznit. From there I checked myself back in at the hotel and picked up my stuff. Everything was still there, so I am all set to go in the morning.

-Dravis