I had several close encounters almost getting knocked down by motorcycle riders. But I managed to dodge them with some clumsy Matrix-like manoeuvres. The wrestling matches and fake bullet dodging sessions I had with my brothers all those years ago came in handy after all.
Surprisingly, a lot of the motorcycle drivers I saw were visibly Muslim women. They were driving on top of their metallic steeds with their hijabs under their helmets, although sadly, I didn’t mange to snap a good photo of any of them.
After watching those women ride on the roads of Marrakech with such audacious swag, I’m itching to purchase a Harley Davidson and reincarnate the hijabi version of Arnold Scharzenegger’s “Terminator.”