Fiddler on the Souq

The Moroccommodation: The Riad Villa El Arsa in the heart of Marrakech.The winding little streets did not allow access to cars, so at the closest possible point on the cusp of the Mellah, the old Jewish quarter, the taxi service dropped me off where I was met by staff member Hussein. I was ushered through tiny manic streets, chock with locals many dressed oddly enough like the Jedi, bicycles flying along at terrific speeds and noisy mopeds whizzing past, bipping and honking as they traversed the narrow packed alleys leaving in their wake, whorls of dust and fumes. Marrakech is one of those places where a blind man could be mistaken for an expert photographer: all that is required in this colourful, dusty, busy, pungent place is the ability to point the lens and press the button.

I booked a 2 day trip to the Zagora Desert, staying overnight. This involved almost 8 hours driving through the Atlas mountains, stopping at gorgeous locations and sometimes just at the side of the road to admire some stunning valley or distant village. The scenery ranged from barren rocky chocolate coloured mountains and valleys to lush green irrigated pastures dotted with little orange coloured houses spread between the legs of huge tree speckled mountains. The snow tipped Atlas always watchful on the horizon. We had our lunch in a restaurant on the edge of the ancient Kasbah of Ait Ben Haddou: I opted for salade Moroccaine for starters and the couscous for mains. Jamal the bus driver had told us the couscous made in that part of Morocco is the finest you will ever taste. He was right. Locally produced, it was the perfect fluffy consistency, not a hint of sogginess which I had taken for granted nearly as a feature of couscous. And a stack of steaming spiced vegetables perched neatly on top. The Salade Moroccaine: a big bowl of chopped tomatoes, cucumbers and onions with loads of corriander and some very light salty dressing. Delicious and simple, this is organic without the labels.