We were lost and there was no sugarcoating the fact the driver had left us nowhere near the location I had in mind. Maps were useless; the fact that any exist for the Marrakech medina must be a joke amongst map publishers.
Finding the quaint food stall I had dutifully copied from the guidebook was a lost cause and instead we were just hoping to find our way. The narrow streets and alleys were a vast labyrinth that seemed to go on forever.
Just when we thought all was lost, we turned a corner and were hit with an amazing smell. It was a savory combination of meat and spices and I knew instantly that I had to find the source.
The succulent aroma belonged to a simple souk with tagine cooking on small, charcoal stoves. We found a stool and through a mixture of French and hand gestures, made it clear that we had to have whatever was in the tagine.
Within minutes our new friend, Abdi Salim, had placed before us the best tagine de poulet we would find in Marrakech. After a leisurely afternoon repast, Abdi helped us return to the Djemaa el Fna.
One of my first views of Marrakech, this photo brings back those wonderful memories of friendship and culinary excellence in a flood of emotion. It is proof that a pristine travel experience can happen even in the most unlikely of places.
