Gliding along the Newest Novelty

I don't fully believe that 7 Dirhams (MAD, about 85 cents) gets me anywhere in the two cities, but that's what my perforated paper ticket implies. Today's my first trip on the newly opened Rabat-Sale tramway since its San Fransisco-style trolley bells began ringing just last month.

According to its website, Rabat and Sale have entertained thoughts of developing a public transportation system for over 30 years. In February 2007, they awarded a contract to realize the plans by rail in 2010 and, after being delayed a year, two lines recently opened to a waiting public.

The project seems large for the size and pace of the cities but should help connect the various neighborhoods and shuttle travelers to a quick exit via one of the city's main train stations.  Operating along 19 km of track through 31 stations, 23 trains can run at once, each carrying up to 580 passengers.

The station next to my place is nice. Open to its surroundings aside from a handful of covered benches and lined with a couple of automatic ticket booths and a small, manned ticket window about half the size of one of his automated counterparts, the Agdal stop is elevated about a foot above the one-way streets that cut past it on both sides.

At a quarter past eight in the evening, the sun's been below the neighboring rooftops for some time, allowing the thirty of us waiting passengers to stand out from under the canopies without getting roasted by May's intense rays while we wait for the next north-bound train.

Those waiting around me don't look like what runs in my head as typical American tram passengers, which is to say they don't predominantly look poor (or lower middle class) and at least half are women.  Then again, this is the city's shopping district, so I shouldn't be too surprised that passengers' clothes are respectable and their demeanor's civil.

After about five minutes, I've waited longer than expected and look more eagerly to the south as my dinner date's start time approaches. As if my mind was read, a whiff of rotten trash is accompanied by the sight of a modern train turning the bend. I hope this ride's quicker than my two bus rides four months ago.

A well-dressed attendant carefully tears my ticket after I fold down a cushy red seat from its upright position. Solid, firm, still new. Underway by 8:30, we jerk along Rue Fransa, waiting for car traffic to figure itself out ahead of us. After a short time, the sweet voice of a young female echos through the cabins announcing the upcoming station, in Arabic only.

My part of the car's vacant save for me and a young woman seemingly ignoring everything around her a couple seats to my right. Sitting along the wall, the rearward cars to our left are more crowded and have permanent bench seats that face forward and backward like a real train car.  Their occupants look satisfied, if not disinterested and bored.

Some quick math tells me 7 MAD is about the same rate or less than a taxi to the same place (testing this theory, a cab back later cost 15 MAD); however, I know it's certainly cheaper than taking a cab from the southeastern part of Rabat to the northwestern side of Sale. Slightly more expensive than a bus, this thing's smoother, less crowded and - so far - much faster than the city's alternate means of public transportation.

Station stops are quick and painless as our middle-aged and neatly-trimmed attendant automatically collects new tickets and welcomes their holders.  Arriving to my destination after a short ten minute glide, I'm impressed by Rabat-Sale's newest novelty.  Not needing to find a spot to park, I'm on my way to the restaurant interested to see if my friends agree.