A Skateboard Shock And A Goat

A Skateboard Shock And A Goat

Leaving Ceuta on the north coast of Morocco and well into our 3rd month on the road, we had decided to carry on South. Rumours had reached us of a virtual border war between Algeria and Morocco and it was felt by us that prudence was the better part of valour. Our original intent was to go west but south it was to be.

We were headed to a place called Ouezzane and this meant crossing the mountains.

Once again filling our canteens with clean water and after devouring our muesli, a staple of ours so far, that was coming to an end now, we headed towards a tatty and really forlorn bus station in the middle of the town. After some hasty negotiations we had discovered that the next bus headed out was actually headed in our direction....and it was leaving. We ran, shouted and waved, all of which helped attract the attention of the driver, who looked at us with incredulity...remember.. this was before the days of mass tourism to Morocco, and we must've been quite a strange sight to most of these people.

We showed him our tickets and hopped on.

Once again the sun was shining and it was very hot. Air conditioning was unknown in this part of the world and we sipped on our canteens and sweltered as the bus..... I'm not sure that's what I would've called it but hey !... ground its way over the mountains. There were many places where I feared that it wasn't going to make it around the next bend or over the next hill. The road was atrocious and not really a road but a rock strewn dirt track.

The scenery was astonishing !

We were out of Europe now and there was a sparsity of village life. Except for one or two tiny villages, perched up on distant hillsides, there was nothing.

Well, almost nothing.

Several hours into the journey, the driver started shouting something at all of us in the bus. I awoke from my distant daydreaming and looked through his windscreen....... there was a shack... a tiny shack constructed of 3 pieces of rusting corrugated iron. 

We were stopping too. This was met by a shout of joy by everyone. A bathroom break was needed. But to us it was a shack ?..... 

Our fellow passengers poured off the bus and streamed off in different directions down the hillside. Everyone was looking for a spot to relieve themselves and the shack was ignored. I took a quick pee on the side of the road, close to the bus and wandered up to see what was inside .... 

I was horrified !

On a meat hook and caked in flies.....Yes thickly caked in flies, was the rotting carcase of a goat. It was hanging upside down and its blood was draining to the floor.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. The driver pointed to the goat and was asking me something. I stood there clueless. Some of the other passengers returned and joined us. The driver went back to the bus and returned with a long knife.... and a six pack of warm Pepsi !

He must have asked me if I wanted a piece because he started to cut slices of meat from the goats carcase and proceeded to sell it to the others. I turned and walked away....... secretly I was craving a hot meal and this was not it !

We sat back down in the bus and I closed my eyes. I must have dozed off for a few moments and was suddenly patted, once again, on my shoulder. Hoping it was the driver with one of the Pepsis, I sat up and looked around me. There was no-one there. I looked again in puzzlement as a hand tapped my leg....... This time I looked down.

There was a person squatting on a really old and worn skateboard (his means of movement). His hand ( I think it was a 'him'), was wrapped in a rag and he prodded me again, looking into my eyes. He was begging.

I realised then that he had no legs and both hands were wrapped.The driver with the aid of some passengers must have placed him and his skateboard up onto the bus in the hope that we 'rich' Europeans would give something......... Overcoming my shock, I gave him the last of my coins. 

This sort of abject poverty was becoming commonplace to us already, after just a few days on the African continent. We would see much more.

Eventually the driver gathered all of the passengers together and boarded them back onto the bus, and off we went again, leaving behind the goat and the skateboard.

As dusk settled onto the mountains like a blanket, we saw a light in the distance. The driver pulled up in front of a small fountain and a small hostelry. 

We had arrived at Ouezzane.