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In Morocco, the grand taxis used to ferry people long distances are painted a region-specific colour. In Essaouira, they are all bright blueIn Morocco, people don’t Uber, they pile into grand taxis – battered but colourful old diesel Mercedes cars. Now, the government is trying to force them off the streets
By John Silcox, photographs by Sam Christmas
The sun is still hiding behind weathered stone ramparts high above the old Moroccan port of Essaouira, but already, day-to-day business is well underway at the small city’s bustling Place des Grand Taxis. Drivers are demisting cracked windscreens with filthy wads of old newspaper while oil-covered mechanics attempt to coax weary engines back to life amid clouds of thick, blue smoke. Long-distance travellers are huddled together, waiting in small groups for a ride, their faces concealed from the cold by hooded woollen robes or djellabas.
Everyone is eager to get on the road early and escape the unrelenting heat of the day, which makes sitting in a cramped vehicle – with up to five other passengers, their luggage and driver – unbearable. So most eyes track the chief broker, who busily manages operations from a prominent position next to the entrance of the whitewashed compound, where a fleet of 30-odd sky-blue cars are parked. At regular intervals, he barks orders at both drivers and passengers, skilfully orchestrating proceedings using a rectangular piece of card on which he scores a long list of numbers, controlling every vehicle that comes in and out of this organised chaos.
Just before 8am, a particularly old taxi appears from behind a veil of dust, bouncing off the pot-holed road and mounting the low kerb that leads to the transport hub. After nonchalantly avoiding collision with an orange vendor’s cart and a skinny stray dog, the car crawls past the broker and finds a space at the back of the rank. Behind the wheel sits Hassan Mesfar, a well-known and much-loved character in the neighbourhood, who is instantly recognisable by the car he drives: a
1974 Mercedes ‘Stroke 8’. In the UK, such a vehicle would belong to a motor museum, but in Morocco, it’s just another rolling ruin. Still, this one boasts the dubious honour of being the oldest taxi in Essaouira – although not by much. It shares the tarmac with plenty of other battered and bruised diesel vehicles, all of them long due retirement.
https://geographical.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/SCP0603-600x400.jpeg 600w, https://geographical.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/SCP0603-768x512.jpeg 768w" sizes="(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px" />Hassan Mesfar, a well-known and much-loved character in the neighbourhood at the wheel of his taxi
In this city, as all over the kingdom, many Mercedes 240Ds from the 1970s and ’80s have spent their twilight years in the sun, having been shipped over when they were deemed too old for the European market. Here they’re woven into the fabric of society, providing an essential long-distance travel link for locals, as well as a colourful snapshot for tourists, much like the old US cars in Cuba. But not for much longer. The Moroccan government is keen to remove them from the country’s roads. In 2014, it launched an incentive scheme that offers grand taxi drivers 80,000 dirhams (around £6,500) to scrap their old vehicles. So far, more than 56 per cent of the 45,000 grand taxis in service have been updated thanks to this programme – something the government aims to increase to 100 per cent by 2022.
‘It’s the end of an era,’ says Mesfar ruefully as he sits down to enjoy a coffee at his regular spot. Last night, he was late getting back from his journey and as is customary with the grand taxis’ first-in first-out system, he won’t be leaving until later in the day. ‘The government is offering us money to update our cars for shiny new Dacias, but for me, they’re not the same as my old Mercedes. It’s the best car I have ever driven – so solid, so reliable, so comfortable – and never lets me down. That’s why around here we call them “Merci dix”.’ In Moroccan French, this phrase literally translates as ‘thanks times ten’, but there’s also a play on words with the local pronunciation of Mercedes.
https://geographical.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/SCP1858-600x400.jpeg 600w, https://geographical.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/SCP1858-768x512.jpeg 768w" sizes="(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px" />The chief broker keeps a note of comings and goings
Hassan, who, like many taxi drivers, is a theatrical conversationalist, says the phrase by pursing his lips, lifting his chin and narrowing his dark eyes as if squinting into bright light. He then draws out the ‘r’ by pulling his face back into a grin, rattling through the other syllables and pushing out the final ‘s’ through near-closed teeth. All the while, jiggling his head and raising his hands in mock praise. It’s quite a performance.
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