At first I thought I’d fly out of the country soon, then I’d somehow get to the stadium.Image: Reto Fehr
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You usually only notice how perfectly everything works in Switzerland when you are abroad. During my visit to the Africa Cup of Nations in Morocco, I once again noticed three things that would be good for us in everyday life here.
01/14/2026, 09:5301/14/2026, 09:53
The fan ID. The. Is. Important. Without them you are lost at the Africa Cup of Nations. You’ll need them everywhere. To enter the stadium, of course. But also so that the media accreditation is valid at all. The message from the African Football Confederation (CAF) is clear ahead of the tournament. So I download the app and register with my passport and photo. Everything works.
Not so with a German colleague. He wrote to me before the tournament that he could do whatever he wanted, he simply couldn’t register.
Watson at the Africa Cup
The Africa Cup is the equivalent of the European Football Championship. The king of Africa has previously (usually) been crowned every two years. The tournament often took place in January. Due to increasingly complicated schedule constellations, this time it will take place for the first time from December 21st to January 18th. For me, the occasion is one of the last big tournaments for football romantics (even if this is increasingly crumbling). Morocco is my sixth tournament that I am experiencing live. Here I report less on the sport and more on the experience.
To be honest, my start to my sixth Africa Cup is going almost too well. Collecting your accreditation, withdrawing money, getting a local SIM card – I’ve wasted entire days on this in other years. In Morocco, I activate the eSIM when I land, I change money at the airport and collecting the accreditation takes five minutes.
The accreditation. A bit of a mess with the names, but basically the ticket to (almost) everything about the Africa Cup of Nations.Image: Reto Fehr
The following days also showed that many things worked smoothly in Morocco. Yes, sometimes it doesn’t really feel like my otherwise beloved Africa Cup of Nations adventure, where you never really know what’s about to happen. And what not. And then somehow.
After all: of course I experience it. The moments that no one can imagine. That take so many twists and turns that even in Hollywood people would reject the script because it was simply unrealistic.
This time it’s mostly media services. For example, transport to the stadium. In Tangier I receive an email the evening before: There are free buses from the train station for media professionals to the stadium. When I asked about the means of transport mentioned, even the CAF employees on site didn’t know anything about it. I should take the fan bus. He’s driving over there.
What an impressive cauldron: games will also take place here at the 2030 World Cup.Image: Reto Fehr
The same picture in Rabat too. The three of us want to go from one stadium to the other. Again it was said that there were transport buses. You might need to know: At the Africa Cup, the stadiums are cordoned off across large areas. You won’t get there so easily. That’s why we ask on site: “Media buses? Yes, in front of the building, turn left twice, up the street, there they are,” says the friendly employee. There are two places up the street on the left but there are no buses.
Everything cordoned off: The nearest taxi is hundreds of meters away from the stadium.Image: Reto Fehr
Instead, there is a group of Cameroonian TV journalists who want to go to the stadium, which is actually still closed. We join them. Maybe someone inside has information about the buses. That’s not the case. But we meet an employee who introduces himself as a media representative. May he help us.
First he makes a phone call. Nothing. Then he asks in the office where we came from. Nothing. “I have a car,” he then says, and we should come with him. But there is nothing left where his car was. The security people explain that the driver recently drove away. He calls again. Then he gives up: But he would give us his number so that if we need help, we should contact us.
Does the security patrol have time to drive us to the stadium?Image: Reto Fehr
Time is slowly running out. We want to hail a taxi. But that is hopeless. We asked a volunteer bus driver if we could come with him, to no avail. A TV station vehicle stops there, unloads journalists and before he speeds away again we can stop him.
We drive through the streets of Rabat in this minivan.Image: Reto Fehr
He’s free now, so of course he’ll drive us to the stadium. In the car he turns ElGrandeToto up to full volume and sings along. He is the most famous Moroccan rapper. It’s like so often: some door always opens somewhere. Once again, my most important insight from a trip to Africa.
LeGrandToto in the taxi:
On the ride to the stadium with the singing taxi driver.Video: Watson
My second lesson is related to this. Because if you believe that a door will always open somewhere, then you won’t give up straight away. This was the case during my planned visit to the Algeria – DR Congo game. My ticket request for the grandstand is rejected. But, they write this literally: “You are very welcome in the stadium’s media center.”
When I stand in front of the gates of the media entrance, a crowd of around 20 journalists has already formed. Everyone came with the same promise as me. But now it means: You can’t come in here. The employees also explain to me that unfortunately this is not possible. At least they let me behind the barrier. I claim that I have to look through my documents again because I have another ticket.
Africa Cup of Nations 2025, semi-finals
Senegal – Egypt 6 p.m
Nigeria – Morocco 9 p.m
January 18th:
Final, 8 p.m
I stand there like that for around 20 minutes. Every now and then someone asks me what I do. I say I’ll be picked up soon. That’s the good thing about such occasions. There are so many employees that most of them don’t even know what each other is doing. And eventually you’ll slip through.
Driving a taxi in the rain through city traffic in Tangier: Of course you can also watch TV.Image: Reto Fehr
But when even the stadium manager explains quite clearly that it won’t work today, my hope dwindles. But I’ll stay there and wait. The security is slowly becoming more nervous. I’m now being led to the side exit and I’m no longer entirely sure whether I should just leave the stadium grounds or be thrown straight out of the country.
I give up.
It happens when you go out. The stadium manager appears again out of nowhere, takes me and another journalist by the hand and says: “Come with me.” The security staff don’t want to let us pass at first. But she insists: “The two of them are my guests. It’s all ok.” From a deported journalist to a personal guest of the boss, it can happen so quickly. And it is the second important insight: until it has actually happened, anything is possible.
What an odyssey. But in the end I have almost the best seats in the stadium.Image: Reto Fehr
Which brings us to the final learning. I am always warned about traveling to Africa from all sides. It is dangerous, but also difficult. You are harassed and persecuted. Everyone wants to cheat on you, you can’t trust anyone.
Once again I can’t confirm any of this. Logically, there are important rules that you have to adhere to. Naivety is dangerous. Sure, I’ve been ripped off too. Sometimes I even let myself be dragged over it. But overall people are just nice and want to help you.
The cemetery in Rabat offers wonderful views of the sea.Image: Reto Fehr
If you approach people openly, you will be rewarded 99 times out of 100 times. Forgoing the 99 good ones because of one bad experience: I don’t want to do that.
I don’t think any of this would be possible in Switzerland. Or maybe yes. Because actually, I’ve just never tried it. Maybe I should. By the way: I wasn’t even asked for my fan ID.