Babouche

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Originally uploaded by halr75.

Life is still good when small things make you happy. As we finished our work yesterday here in Casablanca, we headed to the shops. My firm plan was not to buy a single thing as I had difficulties closing my bag already on the way here. But as we walked into this shoe store, something snapped. All rationale was gone as we were running around the shop going "Look at this colour, look at this colour". The shopkeeper kept climbing through the small hole in the ceiling to the attic where he had his storage. In the end we left his shop altogether with nine pair of babouches, the traditional Moroccan shoes.

They are just fantastic and I cannot wait cycling with them across Amsterdam. Seldom something so simple makes me smile when I just look at them. But then again: how many people you know with bright yellow shoes?

As we got to the hotel, we headed with my Turkish friend to the teahouse to smoke a waterpipe. Our Polish friend told us afterwards on the way to the party:"You know, I was lying in my bathtub, splashing around as I noticed every now and then this strange smell of goat. It took me a while to realise that it was the shoes." Our Turkish friend told us based on experience that one has to prepare to live with that for a few months. But looking at her bag of new babouches, it seems that a bit of odour from the farm is worth the comfort.