One long unfiltered breath.

It’s June and i am proud to be journaling about how May ended. Let’s title this one ‘The Solo Trip Made Out Of My Head’

One year ago i said i wanted to go solo traveling to fes. First, because i have never visited the city. And second, i wanna try to travel alone. Every end of the month i said i would do it but there were always excuses not to. I don’t know if i could have forgiven myself if I didn’t do it before 10/6 which is the day i started working one year ago. Well for the wholeness of the past week and just like every other week the plan goes as follows: i end my shift at 11, take the train to Fes find some place to sleep and start the journey first thing next morning and eventually make it back Monday really early in the morning or Sunday late night. Well this week, and with the 16:00 to 2:00 shift, it didn’t sound right. I got back home after my shift really tired but sure as hell really horny. I jerked it off and slept with no plan in my head. Again, i woke up at around noon Saturday. Lying in my bed I said today i am going to fes. I made it out if my bed and or head at around 16:00. I took a shower, packed up one short, one tshirt, one extra pair of socks, one underwear and a jacket in case it got cold in the night, and took a bus to the taxi station, not my bike because I knew i am not coming back the same day. A million reasons and excuses raced to my head not to go. But, I silenced it with harsh self talk. In the taxi station, they told there are no taxis going to fes and i needed to pay for the 5 other places ( basically rent the whole taxi) for them to take me. Or, get a taxi to meknes then another one to fes. Thing is both options were expensive so i went the nearby couch station and asked if there were any couches leaving for fes. There were none but there was one coming soon that will go to meknes and there i could take another one to fes. It was way cheaper so i took it. The ride was so nostalgic because its the same station and kind of buses i used to take with mom when i was young to go the countryside. I really enjoyed the the view and the first thing i knew about myself very early in this journey is that i love the beige color of wheat fields covering as far as the eyes could reach. It was magical, bright and vibrant. I asked myself if i like it more than green now. Then, I started looking for cheap hotels or even hostels to spend the night. I found a couple hostels because the separate rooms were expensive and the hostels looked decent and there will only be foreigners which is safe enough. I decided not to book online and just go onsite and pay. I got to meknes where all the people that were at that coach station had very big scars on there faces and arms which was scary. I didn’t care much and just looked for a Taxi to take me to fes. I was told the taxi won’t take me near elmedina and i will need to take another taxi to get there. So again, took a couch to fes. I didn’t tell anyone where i was going so when my sister called, i said i am sleeping over at a friends place. Before i knew it i was in fes. The whole ride from sale to fes took 3h30min. The arrival station was infront of this very long wall, not so different from the ones in sale or rabat but i knew i made it and i was in Fes. I was to some level happy and excited. I took tons of pictures and laughed sometimes . There were so many birds flying in the sky. Almost looking like they are playing. I got through the big door and inside the medina walls. Walked through the sook that was smelling so fresh. A mix of melon, mint and peaches. too many shops but not enough to hold the people there. Locals and tourists altogether. My priority then, as it was getting dark, was to secure a place to sleep so i used the maps to get to the fist hostel. I didn’t forget to enjoy the way there though. Now i know that fes has over 9000 street. So to get to one place it was near impossible so i used the help of some locals,they btw don’t tell the directions, they walk you all the way to your destination. It was creepy sometimes and throughout the whole journey over 9 people walked with me to take me places. First one was this kid who took me the hostel i liked most and was my first choice. However and long story short, they refused to take me saying that dormitories re only for foreigners and that this was a rule from the government, was it???? He did offer a separate room over all the empty places in the dormitories which is of course not affordable for me. I asked for this gentleman’s name and left face red as a tomato. Zakaria! I wanted to ask the police later if that was legal or not. I mean not allowing me into a hostel just because i am a local. Oh and even when he told me about the private room he told the price in euros. Anyways, i headed for the my second choice and ofcourse i got lost and a random guy walked me there. I got in the hostel and asked if there were places available. The girl , nouhaila, showed me the room and so i picked the upper bed of one of the three dormitories in there. All the lower beds had stuff on them and so meant they were taken. No one was there so i prayed and went out to walk around the center. One of the kids in the neighborhood walked me to the “busy area.” I glanced two rooftop restaurants that were too flashy with all the lamps they put on the ceiling making sure to have a panoramic view with the glass walls. Then i started walking in the street and through the cheap and disgusting street food stands. I wanted to get snails but after dinner i said. I got in the medina trying so hard to get to where i was in the first time because i didn’t feel like I quite enjoyed the walk the first time. I spent an hour looking but then gave up. I don’t know if it’s because it got late, the shops closed or i just got lost. There and then i only cared to find a decent place to eat. That’s where it got worse. I went back to the busy area and was so overwhelmed by the simple act of picking a place.my options were the street food that was disgusting but really cheap or the restaurant that charged times 2.5 the normal price of a meal even the Snacks or as my American lp used to call them “fake restaurants “ had the same prices. I walked back and forth way too many times people asked if i was lost. I was somehow l. But then I decided on one of the rooftop restaurants because i hated how i looked there and how it made me feel. To put that into words, i looked so cheap and felt disgusted of myself for not treat myself to an overpriced priced dinner that is not actually that expensive just that i could get what on the menu for half the price in my city. So that was another thing i learned about myself, that i was cheap and poor in the heart. How could i not be when nothing has never been handed to me. Well i am writing a memoir for this. Back to the trip. I ordered what i ordered. And right up there I realized that it was not that nice of a place just shell with soft yellow lights. I sat across the room facing the view of the streets. This french speaking guys walked in sat in the table behind me as i looked at them through the reflection of the glass. One of them kept looking at me whenever i looked near them. I couldn’t tell what kind of looks was it. I thought hanger will get me to eat a horse but my appetite disagreed . I ate half my meal and took the rest out. After i paid i asked the guy there if i could get some extra chebakia and the other guy in the kitchen was told to get me a couple ones but has given a bunch. There this phrase that all the fesi people said when I thanked them. “ rak 3ziz o ghali”

Meaning you’re dear and precious. I got back to the hostel. One if the guys was sleeping and one was sitting in the dark rolling a joint, Ahmed from Nigeria working in Dubai. We talked a bit then asked me come to the roof and meet the other roommate, Isaac from UK living in a city i didn’t know and can’t even remember. I didn’t see him as it was dark but we spoke a bit. He was traveling Morocco for the past two months. Apparently he likes it so much but he’s in Fes waiting for his flight home. They both got back to the room to sleep but none was sleeping when I followed later. Meanwhile i took my dinner leftovers but could barely eat with the headache i had. I tried to sleep but the upper bed wasn’t so comfortable and made a lot of noise whenever I moved around so i got down and slept in one of the beds in the middle of the room. I was really tired and sleepy but still couldn’t sleep at first. Next morning i tried eating that shitty cold breakfast but couldn’t. I had a shower, packed up and went to the roof where i talked more to Isaac about how women in the UK and EU are. He wants a good serious girl to marry and build a farm and raise children alone side chicken, goats and donkeys with. He said that he can’t do that now because girls start sleeping with men at an early age and only want to part and have sex with the next guy. Every woman in Isaacs family cheated on her husband except for his mom. So he said. I also said that people go to Agadir for sex and call it Shagadir. It was really hot that day and i walked to the medina looking for my bank ATM to get money but that was a bit far but walkable so i said. It was hell. I did enjoy the streets at first though. And with more guys showing me the way. Sometimes i felt uncomfortable for they walked me long distances and i even thought they might take me some dark street just to rob me. I wondered if they wanted money but they just left with “rak 3ziz o ghali” i was too cheap to get a taxi to the my bank but just couldn’t do the same on the way back. I was dripping in sweat. I visited the tannery place and walked through the artisana shops. There were streets just for leather goods and others for bronze crafts. I also visited the Syd Moulay driss where people lighted candles and prayed. The mosque was amazing. The walls the ceiling the fountain in the middle it was magical. People, however, looked a bit weird but very moroccans. Some paid some men in the corner to make a prayer for them and I didn’t like that. It felt retarded but people can be desperate. I wasn’t hungry and sure none of the food on the way left any bit of appetite in me. I bought pills for my headache and some snacks. A 1.5L water bottle was my companion the whole morning. Then i felt like it was time so i headed back to the station. I got a leather sandals on the way which was one of the main reasons why I came to fez. I went to the station found a taxi waiting to gather all 6 seats to head out. There was a man and a lovely woman, Latifa, who has given me her number and French and showed me pictures of her hometown and of her boys. When a forth woman came there were only two seats empty and so we waited for an hour. We decided to get out and get a coach instead so the taxi driver wanted to negotiate with us to stay. We basically needed to pay for the two empty seats so we refused and this other taxi said that he can take us for just 10 extra dirhams. We hit the road with him and two hours and a half later i was in my city and two other taxis later i was home. I couldn’t hide if i tried, or i just didn’t want, i told my mom where i have been and ofcourse they couldn’t believe i went alone and kept asking who did i go with. There and then, my only regret was not buying them any souvenir for that was something i did wherever i went on a trip. With the strongest headache ever my trip ended and looking back at it, i know i felt alive in that 28 hours i got out of my house. I don’t know about happy which bugged me so bad when i tried to meditate in the morning yesterday. And i spent the 10 i was supposed to be living in my happy memory looking for it.