The Cat Empire, Stork City and number 97

The overiding image in my head that sums up Morocco would have to be that of a cat - they are everywhere. Sunbaking in the streets, slouching in chairs at cafes, perching on stools in the barber shop, lolling on the merchandise looking smug in the souk and even sitting on the lap of the man who runs the butcher shop. It seems most people here love them, and if they don't love them they tolerate them to the point of indulgence anyway.

If the cat is Morocco then the Stork is Marrakech, these enormous birds live all over the pink city, with a preference for all the choicest bits of real estate in town for building their crazy afro style nests on. I never realised quite how large these things were til I saw them here, no wonder they were the birds that supposedly delivered human babies to people, looks like they could do it with one wing behind their back. Luckily for the Storks they are considered a holy bird and there is a 3 month jail sentance for anyone caught pestering them, just in case you were considering it.

As for number 97 that is the name of my favourite place to eat here in the city. In the main square at night the place is transformed into a circus of fortune tellers, snake charmers, jugglers, drummers, witch doctors, storytellers, letter writers, belly dancers and every kind of busker you can imagine. Amongst all this activity are the hundred odd outdoor food stalls with shiny metal table tops, frenetic waiters, steaming tea kettles, smoking barbeques and mountains of delicious food. The smoke from the grills and the bright lights make the whole place look like it is on fire.