For my 30th birthday I’m in Marrakech. After wanting to visit for the whole of my twenties, I’ve made it with days to spare. What’s drawn me isn’t just the beauty of the city, or the infamously good shopping, but the experimental and thriving food scene. Long gone are the days when friends would return saying that all they had eaten was their body weight in tagine – I found the culinary delicacies wildly varied and all equally delicious.
We start off strong. Immediately after we land, in the taxi to the hotel, we’re given fresh dates and almonds. Nothing really prepares you for proper Moroccan dates – they are better than toffee, and as we devour all of them while we watch the chaos of the streets outside the windows as we edge by; everyone on motorbikes moving in unpredictable rhythms, the faded red walls of the medina stretching along by our side.
