gastroenteritis and unnecessarily long taxirides to nowhere......
I spent some time in Morocco a few years back with my then bloke, neither of us spoke Arabic, my French was passable, his was not....
We arrived early evening after a epic bus ride in a small town, having not eaten since breakfast. We picked out a hotel from the guidebook as one does, and (having realised people did not respond well to being spoken to by the female member of the party) my bloke sourced us a taxi, giving them the name of said hotel, which was probably a 5 minute walk away. So we squeezed into the cab with an assortment of other people, all chatting in Arabic. And we drove for about half an hour, at which point I was a little concerned. And then we drove some more. And then we established that our taxi driver didn't really speak French either. And then we drove some more. And then it got dark. And then we drove some more. When we arrived at our "destination", we discovered no-one there spoke French either but miraculously managed to procure somewhere to sleep, and some food from a street vendor (after the obligatory 20 minutes of hand gesturing to communicate that we really weren't interested in cold mint tea, and of course the obligatory drinking of said cold mint tea).
Fortunately, the next day there turned out to be a station within walking distance, from which we could get to Casablanca in a mere 6 hours. Unfortunately I spent those 6 hours with severe diarrhoea.
(skankgirl, Fri 15 Jul 2011, 18:28, 1 reply)

well,that seemed nice...
(harrycockflap, Fri 15 Jul 2011, 19:52, closed)