Oh lookee lookee! There's my main man, the peach salesman! Darn good peaches too, only you have to wash them first. No problem. I take them back to my Riad, wash them, eat them with the breakfast Abdullah makes, which is carb city, and continue on my journey. I feel bad for the old men who will be working till the day they draw their last breath. Makes me really appreciate my pension, capitalism and the good ol' USA.
Next to encounter are the women in traditional garb... who do not want you to take their picture. They tend to frown upon it... though I don't know how you can tell??
Now to avoid some of the crazy mini bikes, and motorcycles, and horse drawn carts, in other words to arrive at the Souq in one piece, I take a short cut through this deceptively peaceful looking street.
And who is waiting for me?? This old feller didn't have a tooth in his head, but what a great smile! He was so proud of his oral vacancy. He didn't ask for money, try to sell me Tampons, or even ask for money to take his photo! The explanation is simple - he's lost his mind!
Even in something as seemingly chaotic as the Souq, there is order. The closer you get to the outside edges of the Souq, the more smelly things are kept. My uneducated guess is so that the smell can escape to the elements, as opposed to being trapped under the tarps in the center.
This is one of the spice merchants. I wish him well, but never saw him make one sale.
A fellow traveller and I were looking at paintings and we found a "store" in the Souq selling beautiful paintings. The merchant takes several down from the shelf and unrolls them on the floor. Not sure I want my art work, rolling on the floor of the Souq. Then a cat shows up and walks across the work of art. Okay, definitely don't want my art work with cat paw prints on the picture.
What could be better than the combination of water and pigeon poop, which is used to treat the skins.
If I had to work this guy's job, there wouldn't be a safe tourist in Marrakech.