Tshaj tawm: 26.08.2018
DAY I:
22.08.2018, Wednesday
Exotic smells in our Bavarian olfactory organs, special discoveries, and interesting encounters. From the very first day, Morocco did its best to fulfill all our wishes, albeit in a different way than initially hoped.
Our journey started quite early (3.30 am) and took us directly to "Munich-West" via yesterday's breakfast pizza. Just after saying goodbye to the Mama taxi, we found ourselves at the baggage check, falling into a spontaneous panic - my passport was gone. Well, eyes on the road! It was, of course, where it should be. So, bags off, security check, passport control, and in a flash, we flew over the beautiful Alps to Fes, Morocco. Leon in the pilot's seat, me in the middle, and a very kind Moroccan lady living in Munich on the aisle, who gave us valuable tips for the journey: firstly, that the dress code for women is now very westernized, meaning head, shoulder, and knee covering is usually only necessary in mosques; secondly, the lady informed us that today is the highest religious holiday in all of Morocco, the Feast of Sacrifice (similar to Christmas in the Christian faith). Every family slaughters at least one lamb in the presence of the whole extended family to honor Allah, which is then ritually consumed over the next 36 hours. Even the taxi driver who took us and another German couple to the Medina, the old town, after some tough negotiation in French for "only" 160Dhm (probably still his top earnings of the day), invited us to his home in the evening for a lamb dinner, as did the owner of our riad. We politely declined after understanding that heart and liver were being grilled that day. Side dishes? None. Instead, we had fried pizza and onion with tomato. Afterwards, we felt just as sick as if we had eaten the heart raw. Maybe it was due to the circumstances under which we ate: countless decapitated sheep on every street, in every alley, in front of every door. Blood streams between lifeless skinned animal bodies, severed heads, and improvised barbecue areas (fire and a box spring bed frame on top) as far as the eye could see. But the most unpleasant thing was the biting smell that accumulated in the narrow streets - a sweet mixture of gasoline and mutton. Literally everything smelled of it for days afterwards (not to mention my hair). Even our beautiful Moroccan room in the riad was not spared. However, the bad smell in the bathroom has other reasons, right Leon? Actually, I'm not supposed to talk about it, but of course I will. At some point, Leon's body decided it was time for the breakfast pizza to leave, so the young man went to the toilet. He didn't consider that at this time, every real mother in all of Morocco was using the good tap water to prepare the feast - and he had no choice but to descend the stairs like a defeated knight and present his brown business to the employee, which simply refused to be flushed from the beautiful white porcelain. In the evening, we finally said goodbye to our friend, and we even had a refreshing shower before falling into a deep and restful sleep.
Thursday, 23.08.2018
This sleep was damn awesome! Delicious breakfast with eggs, olives, muffins, Moroccan pastries, and mint tea, and we were prepared for this day. Fortunately, the evening wind had carried away the worst smell from the streets, so we could calmly make our way through the Medina, past still smoldering fireplaces, furs, individual souvenir shops, and cafes. On the way to a leather workshop, our travel group was joined by a Canadian couple who had gotten lost. Now there were four of us. During the guided tour, we were handed mint to neutralize the smell, saw color vats in blue, brown, green, red, and yellow, and lots of lamb skin from the mass slaughtering of the previous day. For the rest of the day, we followed the colorful hustle and bustle of Fes, took a break at a cafe, tried freshly squeezed orange juice, cactus rolls, figs, and admired the beautiful garden and the Royal Palace just outside the Medina. We ended the evening on the rooftop terrace with delicious panini and tacos, and illicitly enjoyed whiskey and cola with a Polish companion - in the background, the muezzin suffered.