Friday is couscous day in Morocco, the day when households collect to make and eat the normal vegetable and spice-laden dish. The meal usually occurs outside, so Felix, my information and the driving force of the motorbike, has much less room to navigate the slender streets and, in consequence, finally ends up hitting a good variety of potholes. However the bumps hardly appear to gradual him down — we’ve a number of historical past and floor to cowl. Over just a few hours, Felix explains the historical past of the area as we peer into tanneries, stare upon a grove of sacred date palms, cruise down doodling alleys within the souk and make notice of the myriad hammams.


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