Chicken Bus to Tangier 

A smart (and handsome) fellow took some time to explain to us last night that you can’t be happy if don’t go through periods of adversity. Without adversity, if you are happy all the time, how can you experience real happiness? You need the contrast to make life meaningful.

And so we left our little slice of blue paradise and boarded a bus for Tangier.

Now please understand, there are no Princess types in our group. (THANK GOODNESS). We are all happily slogging our luggage, living with our choices, enjoying each other’s company, engaging with the people we meet, asking question upon question upon question in a quest to understand and learn.

We have a really good group. There have not been any complainers. No whiners. No pouting or drama. (Ok some drama. Not a lot). Everyone had some idea what lay ahead. Inshallah.

And the chicken bus was one of those things we knew was coming and it made us all the more happy to enjoy our cozy beds, comfy surroundings and general peace in Chefchaeoun.

It’s a public bus. The prophet Mustapha paid the bill. I don’t imagine it cost more than $3.50 a person. Chefchaeoun to Tangier. Three and a half hours.  One stop in Teteoun for 15 min.

We boarded the bus at 9:30 for a 10am departure. Of course there was the obligatory “nervous pee” that came before boarding, which quickly turned into a “no thanks” after seeing the bus terminal squatter potty located inside what I can only assume was someone’s back shed. Filled with “stuff”, dirty and more than a little weird.

Two hours it would be then to the first bathroom break in hopes it would be better. (Not better, just less weird). We boarded the bus and got some seats because Mustapha had called one of his friends and made it so. Laura and I jumped on a chance to move forward, second row, and thank goodness we did. More leg room. More air coming in through the front windows. It was HOT. It was stuffy. It was cramped. It was a public bus in Morocco. And thankfully, no chickens. Phew.

I really do feel bad for some of our mates. And by mate of course I refer to the Aussies. It was an uncomfortable trip made worse by a self inflicted ill and some bad tummies. But the choices were…..Go, go, go, go, go, go. Or Go, go, go, go, go, go. (Inside joke. My girls will get it.)

Interesting trip. There were a number of seemingly random stops along the way. People got on. Or off. I think things were delivered along the way. Maybe.

Leaving Chefchaeoun was interesting from the front of the bus. What goes up surely must go down. And down we went on windy roads with tentative tummies on interesting corners. For some reason, drivers here tend left. So our driver was constantly honking other buses, people, or cars back over to their lane before we could pass.

It’s not all that bad. Long trip and uncomfortable but entirely manageable (thanks to writing the entire time on my phone). Soon we will arrive in Tangier and take stock. A day of touring and then the next leg of this adventure : the overnight train to Marrakech. That’s going to be interesting. We have our 4some. Laura, Christina, Kerry and I. Hopefully a bottle or two of vodka. Some playing cards. And a will to sleep on our 12 hour journey.

Wish I could bring along a personal maseuese but hey, you can’t have everything on this crazy ride.

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