Day 2: Larache - Fez (the foot issue)

Larache is a small seaside village sprayed continuously by the tumultuous Atlantic wavebreaks. You smelled salt in the air. The medina is small but extremely typical. It was unfortunate that half of the stores were closed during this first day of the year.



Walking towards the south of the city you find a market place that extends itself to a full block outside of this simple narket building, relic of old portoguese civilization. Banana 1 Dirham. Peanut keychain made in China 10 Dirham. 30 pieces of wooden cotton buds 2 Dirham. Odd comparisons..



After our morning walk with provisions of oil and spray repair kit, we gear up to leave. Backpacks this time not on our shoulders but attached to the packs of the 50ccs. We part... and then I fall down. I had no balance due to the loose backpacks.
Rested for a while and spalmed Ketum (a type of Lasonil for sprains) and off we go towards Fez.

Lunch at Souk er Arbe dou Rabh (Kampung deket Purwakarta) then for the rest of the journey the back wheel of the SH50 starts to make noises. The wheel was eating up the its bearrings. Not a small matter considering that the back wheel can just break away at any give time..

We arrived close to 70 km of Fez, in the middle of nowhere, and the forsaken tire of yet again the same SH50 blows.... At that point, the first thought that came to mind was not 'Fuck me.' but 'Wow... this place is gorgeous'. We tried to fill the chambre with the emergency air filler but the tear was too big. Really at that point I was quite ready to call it a night and camp seeing as my foot was hurting quite a bit.

Luckily, Rachid and Aziz on a white van saved us and took us to Fez where Red for the whole trip did serious gymnastics and I practiced my arab and french with blacktooth Rachid and mumbling Aziz.
It might be the romantic in me but I saw one of the most beautiful nights ever. The rising of the moon itself was more than worth the trip. I suppose there's the navigator in me that is always looking at the sky to understand my north and south.
Rachid didn't really understand much and neither did Aziz. The only sure thing was that they were to take us to Fez and Allahamdulillah after that. Rachid however, insisted and I speak on the phone... HIS phone of course and on the other side of the conversation was his brother who lives in Milan, Italy. It was an odd conversation where none of us really understood why we were to speak to each other, apart from pleasing Rachid's wishes. His brother did manage to explain to Rachid that we needed a garage. :)



After 2 hours we finally arrived at Fez and Rachid took us to a bike shop/garage. A little kid by the age of maybe 8/9 started to work on the tire with Red's supervision. By then I realize that I couldn't put my foot down any longer.

To cut the story short. I went to the Hospital Ghassani at the border of Fez city, got an X-Ray, was diagnosed with frattures in 2 different spots on my left foot, got a soft cast and went away with a prescription to take for 7 days.

Met Red in Splendid Hotel and off to bed...