sylvia's photos

We're surrounded by movement and laughter and shouting. The smoke blows in circles, wisping different scents across my nose every few seconds. Tourists walk nervously amongst the crowds of Moroccans calling out that their food or tea or air conditioning is the best in the square. "You look at the others but you come back to eat here, yes? You promise? Promise me!" Children dash around in packs. Beggars ask for a spare coin or two, working their way through five different languages until they find one that you understand.

"Your eyes are beautiful," says one to me, my blush gives me away.

Cliff keeps asking me if I'm OK and I keep saying yes, yes, I'm just watching. It's too much to take in.