We turn the end of one long street, and into another. Cars, taxis, and Moroccans on bicycles stream by. Its now the midday heat. Palace guards lounge in their sentry boxes with their guns swinging casually. Sam says it wouldn't be like that in the British Army, oh no.
We turn another corner and there's a wool market, with raw fleeces hanging in the shade with attendant flies and odours. Then its through some classical arabic architecture of the Bab Mansour ('Bab' means gate) and into the Medina.
The Medina is a maze of narrow streets and alleys, some covered, some open to the skies, some inside big buildings divided up into narrow corridors. There are clothes - both traditional and well-known western brands - food, for the most part swarming in flies - material and thread - musical instruments. We wander round, trying not to look like tourists. Yeah sure.
We find our way out and wander back to the campsite. The shop is more than willing to sell us large bottles of Coke and Fanta and we sit and sip them outside the bar and read for most of the afternoon.
Whilst on the hunt for firewood that evening we spot a Nissan four-wheel drive with attached camper back, with UK plates. This is Mike and Carol. They met in Marakesh thirty years ago, and have since got married and raised children. They still come back to Morocco, but this is the first time with a four-wheel drive. In the back they have a small kitchen and a fridge. Sam thinks he's spotted fellow desert travellers.
We decide that tomorrow we'll convoy through the High Atlas mountains to the Todra Gorge. We share food and drink and pore over maps deciding routes. We're getting ready for some serious off-roading at last!