I don’t know about you, but for me, there are just some names that seem to be magical.

Samarkand is definitely one of them, or Istanbul. I don’t even remember how many times I have hummed those two magical words when I was walking, and the road was getting tough…

But then some other names are just fucking boring. Am I the only one who has ever wondered why the world needs three different celebrities called Tommy Lee, Tom Jones, and freakin’ Tommy Lee Jones??

Of course nobody should really have to go as far as that Hollywood actor who named his son after the Kryptonic name of Superman. Yes, he really did that. The superkid’s name is El-Kal. Poor kid.

Whatever, I am babbling. What I really want to say is: the author of this book has one of the best names ever. I don’t know about you, but for me, it just makes the air vibrate:

Abu Abdullah Muhammad Ibn Battuda…

A wagging finger

[Please note: I've been reading a German translation that is based on the abridged edition published by al-Bailuni in the 17th century.]

The story: AAMIB is only a very young man when he embarks on his hajj, the pilgrimage to Mecca. But he doesn’t stop there. Instead he goes on and on and on, and several travels during the next three decades will take him almost everywhere in the known world – he is much like Marco Polo, or Johann Schiltberger, Fernão Mendes Pinto or John Mandeville (about whom I will write later).

Of course, being a man of the Middle Ages, there is more that he has in common with those other guys: their world is full of magic and mystery (and also prejudice). They don’t compose stories with defined plots, like modern readers might expect them to. And nobody can ever be sure if what they are saying is true or not.

Considering all of the above, this one was okay. For one thing, AAMIB really gets around. And much like Marco Polo’s travelogue, this one is fun to read when the author is trying to show off his awesomeness (it seems like he owns an official post, money, and a wife in every other place he visits).

But on the other hand, I found this book a bit slow at times. While Marco Polo had his humorous remarks about sexual customs, and Johann Schiltberger had the raw credibility of someone who walked with the infamous Tamerlan, AAMIB seemed a bit stiff most of the time, as if he was constantly wagging his finger at the things that went against his Muslim beliefs.

That doesn’t make it bad, but it’s a bit slow. Maybe because of that beautiful, magical name my expectations were too high?

It’s a 6/10.