Today we return to the Jamaa - it is a very different place in the day time. We meet a man who works with monkeys, a cousin of Lahcen's who says he can set us up with some story-tellers. We wait and wait. Glass after glass of mint tea, and our first tagine. Noah is less patient than us (though the tagine occupies him for a time) and would rather wander off or play with a snake but as our patience is running out they arrive. Only to tell us to return tomorrow when they will then tell us a story and talk about the traditions of the halqa. Our interest piqued we promise to return tomorrow and head back to the hotel (in a horse-drawn carriage, as you do). Waiting around areĀ things I suspect we may have to get used to in Morocco.

Lahcen is more philosophical about it all and says the square recognised that we were tired and should come back tomorrow. 'You're not able to listen yet.' There is a strong vein of the fatalistic running through the fabric of Morocco which is something I'll need to come to terms with given my love of efficiency and punctuality. So when it happens will be the right time. And now to bed.