I lied – we did have couscous, but on a different plate ( and with the St. George Cross in some vinegar on the top )

We’ve returned from Marrakech 2 stone heavier and with very red faces- nothing to do with that extra frisk at Marrakech airport , but the 36 degree temperature.

I have 2 confessions to make ..

1.I have converted .Not to Islam, but to tagines . When the five of us had then there 9 years ago they all seemed to be the same , meat, apricots, lamb, couscous – all sort of mushed into one and served under one of Madonna’s conical bra-cups .This time we had squid ones, monkfish ones, lemon, chicken and olive ones- with not a grain of couscous in sight .They were still served under MCBC, but this time sizzling ,like those hot-plates you get in Chinese restaurants . The flavours were sublime

I have also converted to Moroccan wine and Casablanca Beer ( although in honesty I was never really off them – just didn’t remember what they tasted like )

2. I have formed a very strong bond with a handsome,elderly Moroccan resident of the riad, named Valentino .He watched me in the pool .He brought his lunch over to share with me .He gazed into my eyes and listened to me talk .The relationship only went sour when he tried to hump my flip-flop . And I thought tortoises were faithful creatures.

So if you are looking for culture, the most beautiful buildings and artefacts etc, to feel safe, great cheap food ( dine in the Jemaa el-Fnaa ,on 3 courses and freshly squeezed orange juice for under £4 each ) , lovely people, heat , snake-charmers, people that try and make eagles sit on your head , roof-terraces by the score, ice-cold plunge-pools, hamaans ,go to Marrakech…but just don’t get taken in by a cad like Valentino.

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