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Perpetually festive, imbued with the
mingled perfumes of spices and delightful scents, the souks are a male of alleys
that meander round and
intersect endlessly. Every Moroccan town has its medina, its noisy crowds, its
friendly sellers, its stalls piled up in a very Oriental chiaroscuro,
ordinary scenes in an extraordinary life.
While the atmosphere of the souks is sometimes identical, each town has
preserved its own specialities. ln Fez, clay is moulded into ali the pottery
shapes. ln Rabat, leather browns nicely. ln Marrakech, wool is knotted into
carpets. ln Zemmour, embroidery is a major art. Wood, fabrics, jewels and the
most richly-coloured objects are piled up in a delightful disorder. Bargain-
hunters pass by again and again, ta king their time, always discovering
something new, another stall, another craftsman.
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