What's it like to take a shared grand taxi?

You find them clustered at the edge of town, a row of cream or beige Mercedes sedans that have clearly outlived several lifetimes, their drivers leaning on the bonnets calling out destinations. You say where you're going, hand over your share, and then you wait — because a grand taxi leaves not on a schedule but when it's full. Full means six passengers crammed into a car built for five: two beside the driver, four across the back. You squeeze in, knee to knee with people you've never met, and become temporarily part of their afternoon.

Then the car launches onto the road and your stomach learns something new. Grand-taxi drivers know every camber and pothole of their route and treat the speed limit as a vague suggestion. You overtake a donkey cart, then a bus, then a truck, the engine roaring, the window cracked to let in air that smells of diesel and wild thyme. The woman next to you murmurs a steady prayer; the man up front argues football with the driver. Nobody seems remotely worried, which is reassuring right up until it isn't.

It's intimate in a way no private car ever is. People share snacks, pass a baby around, swap phone numbers, give directions to the riad you're hunting for. You don't need much language — a smile, a few words of Darija, and your willingness to be squeezed into a stranger's shoulder for an hour buys you a small, genuine slice of Moroccan daily life. By the time you tumble out at the other end, slightly numb in one leg, you've usually been adopted by someone who insists on walking you to your next stop.

Go in knowing the trade-offs. It's the cheapest intercity transport there is and gloriously efficient once the car fills, but you sacrifice space, climate control, and any illusion of personal space. If you want the back seat to yourself you can buy two places, which locals do too — say so up front. Agree the price before you sit down; it's fixed per route, so just confirm the standard fare and you won't be overcharged. Do it once and you'll understand the country in a way the tour bus never shows you.