Crazy Cab Rides

This week's crazy cab ride back from the Jay-Z concert reminded me of a far more serious crazy cab ride across international borders. Let me first pause to say the Jay-Z concert was *awesome*. In a weird coincidence, we ended up bumping into the guys we were sitting next to when we were searching for a cab downtown. They were heading to Georgetown and, though we were going in the opposite direction, the cabbie insisted on taking us both in the most nonsensical path possible.

Which prompted the memory of the cab ride from Nador, Morocco to the Spanish city of Melilla, a mere eight miles and two stops at passport control away from Nador. Would have been helpful if I had known there were two stops to begin with... During my sophomore year of college spring break I went with two girls to Spain and Morocco. I was about to turn twenty and had just declared my twenties as a decade I was giving to myself, to explore the world, my place in it, and learn about me. We began our journey in Morocco in Tangier and thought we may as well take a bus to Nador, see the countryside, and save money by taking the overnight ferry back to Spain, thus reducing our hotel costs. It was a decision fueled by youth, thriftiness, adventure, and a sense of invincibility.

The bus ride in itself was an adventure, one for another blog post. We were the only women on the bus, though I have to say a couple gracious men took good care of us. When we got to Nador one of them set us up with a cab to Melilla where the ferry was. We just had a couple hours to cross the border and catch it. Then we realized Melilla was on Spanish time, an hour ahead of Moroccan time. The couple hours became just one. Waiting to get our passports stamped to exit Morocco was nerve-wracking. First there was the issue of explaining why we were in this town far isolated from the cities in Morocco typically traveled to by Americans, insisting we did not have any drugs with us, explaining why our passports didn't all look alike (mine was issued after 9/11 and was different from the other girls'), getting searched to make sure we were telling the truth re: drugs, and all of it in languages we barely spoke to boot.

But, thankfully, we got to the port, bought our tickets, and walked up to board the ferry. That is, if they would let us on, which they would not because we had not gone through Spanish customs yet. In fact, the cab driver hadn't even gone through a border crossing when we entered Melilla. Huh? We thought before realizing we had to act - and fast. We rushed back down the ramp to board the ferry, explained to a cab driver what we needed to do in faltering Spanish, and then were quickly driven to the border so long as we could promise to pay the negotiated price of thirty dollars. I don't know if getting our passports stamped at that Spanish customs office took as long as it felt it took - when we got there, we first had to wake the officer up; he was dozing off - but it felt like eons.

Stamped passports in hand, we were quickly driven back to the port. But not before the cabbie tried to get more money off of us. This began a back-and-forth in Spanish (which I barely speak) on how much we would pay him. When he liked what we were saying, he drove faster. But when he didn't, he slowed down, eventually stopping the car and demanding we pay him sixty dollars, not thirty. At this point we didn't have much cash between us all. The other debate with our friendly cab driver was what currency to pay him in. Moroccan dirhams, his country's own currency, were unacceptable to him as were British pounds. Only euros and US dollars were acceptable. Nevertheless, we pulled the various currencies we had to come close to sixty dollars, which I am sure was waaay more than the average cab ride in Melilla.

But, though we were the last ones to board the ferry just minutes before it departed, we made it. And I too made it back to my cozy apartment after the Jay-Z concert. Maybe the bigger point is what matters is that you get where you intended to go, regardless of the path taken.