Terror In A Tuk-Tuk

By now we were feeling pretty comfortable in Marrakech. We wanted to go out for a nice Saturday night dinner, perhaps with entertainment.

Sana suggested La Tanjia in Place des Ferblantiers, the main square in the Jewish quarter. She also suggested we go by Tuk-Tuk, since it was over a half an hour walk each way. That seemed like a good idea. Aman from the Riad walked us down to meet the driver and explain where we were going and that he should return to pick us up after dinner. The restaurant hostess would call him when we were ready. We climbed into the back of the Tuk-Tuk and greeted our driver. A moment later, we were careening through the Medina, tires bouncing, horn beeping, narrowly missing people and banging into the door of a souk. Dirty looks were directed our way. Our driver was shouting in Arabic the whole time, as we held on for dear life. It was like a carnival ride; frightening and fun at the same time. We arrived at La Tangia and my heart rate returned to normal.

Dinner was delicious and the view was spectacular. Toward the end of our meal, the entertainment began. Joyful Moroccan music, belly dancers with candles on their head, a wildly illuminated dancer who swung a large neon umbrella over the tables. Patron participation was encouraged. After dessert, it was time for our return ride in the Tuk-Tuk. Our driver asked if we could pick up another couple nearby. Sure, why not? We went out of the Medina onto a modern boulevard, and then parked in front of a hotel. The driver was talking to us in some mixture of Arabic and French with a little English in the mix. He raved about what a grand hotel this was, a really grand hotel. “The president stays here when he comes to Marrakech.” he bragged, so I asked, ” Is the president going to ride in the Tuk-Tuk with us?” He understood me enough to think that was uproariously funny. He must have been referring to the French president, because Morocco has a king.

A fashionable French couple approached the vehicle and we welcomed them to the back seat. The woman was upbeat, but we sensed that her husband was pretty horrified to be riding in the back of a Tuk-Tuk with AMERICANS. We learned that they were from Marseilles. The wife had been in town for three days for an art exhibition and her husband was joining her for the weekend. He probably had visions of a luxury evening at the grand hotel, but she was dragging him out to visit friends who were renting a place in the Medina.

We drove into the Medina and turned down a narrow street. Another vehicle had parked to unload crates, and was blocking our progress. I’m not sure of the protocol here. There are no one-way streets, stop signs, or no parking signs. If two vehicles come face to face, someone has to back up. Our driver had no intention of being that someone. He aggressively drove toward the other vehicle, yelling the whole time. A couple of guys came to his window to discuss the situation. In moments, we were surrounded by angry men. I began to imagine an international incident. The French couple seemed quite amused by it all, and actually applauded when the other vehicle backed up for our Tuk-Tuk. And just like that, the crisis was averted and we were home a few minutes later. I can’t help but wonder if some of the posturing is theatrics to entertain the tourists.

We survived the Tuk-Tuk! Next: The Hot Air Balloon.