Nearly bumping into the King

We were making our way back to Casablanca from the north of Morocco the orange sun was slowly setting over the horizon which created an enchanting pink sky, the long tarmaced road felt endless, between the cities, you were met with a vast agricultural land occasionally dotted with gangling palm trees to give off this magnificent North African scenery.

We were just outside Rabat which is the capital city of Morocco, the car had started to run out of fuel as we hadn't spotted a fueling station for miles, the needle had been moving ever so quickly between the red square on the clock which means nearly empty, my father who was taking turn driving to give my step mother Souad a break decided to turn off the highway onto the slipway into Rabat, as we were slowly making our way through the needle was on the red square it felt like it was tormenting us to just give up and accept the fact that we are going to break down, we turned down one particular main road which runs right next to the King's palace, you couldn't see the palace itself apart from the monstrous light brown wall which was heavily guarded by unwelcoming guards; it was this point I notice something was going on, there seemed to be so many guards, police and army personells all the way down this long road, they kept waving us on to keep moving and not to dare stop, we were all now getting a little worried in the car, here we were making our way down the very road the Moroccan King Mohammed VI would be making his way down shortly, we had next to no fuel and a stupendous amount of security watching our every move.

I don't know what was to happen if the car was to just break down at that point, would the highly densed security think we were a threat, surely not as we were just a family but you never know what would go through their minds, people change when they had been forced to stand under the hot sun all day long; the car started chuggering which wasn't a good sign, we pulled over to ask one guard where a fueling station was and he kept moving his right hand in a swaying action with the expression of anger on his sweaty face, we carried on driving a little further down the road, we found a turning that was to take us off the main road onto a smaller road, we asked a friendly market stall man the direction of a fuel station, the fuel clock pin had nearly covered the whole red square which meant we were now in desperate need of fuel, with a lot of energy he jumped up from his sturdy wooden stool and pointed ahead, he had a large smile which showed an array of teeth of all different shapes, so chipped and some of course missing.

As we carried on down the road a little further we managed to find a sign for fuel, we all cheered in the car, Souad started clapping in excitement but the only thing that was on my mind was were we going to break down before we got to the station which would of been annoying as I am pretty sure I would of been the one pushing the darn thing, as we pulled up next to the pump I took a deep breath and thanked God for getting us there, the car's tank slowly filled up with the oozing fuel and the pin on the clock slowly risen past the red square back into the black but on the jorney back to Casablanca I was still wondering what if we had broken down right on the highly guarded main road, most probably minutes before the King was to arrive, would we be pulled out of the car, arrested? Who knows but I am glad nothing as daunting happened, there was one thing I did regret, I wished we stayed somewhere nearby to be able to see the King pass, it would of been the perfect end to the day.