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“Not again!”. My sister was lying uncomfortably on the short, packed back seat, trying to get her 2 hour shift of sleep. The marathon drive had started in southern france, 40 hours and 2500km earlier. For the third time in the last 2 hours, the moroccan police was waving us off the road. The infractions mainly dealt with speeding, which relied entirely on the ability to visually estimate the speed of an oncoming vehicle through a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses. “So sister, which routine this time?”… “Siblings coming home to family after long exile: got us off the hook so far.” | ||
-Yannick |