Thirteen years ago on the 14th August I visited Morocco for the first time, and fell in love with Tetouan.   From Ceuta we caught a bus to the border of Morocco. Fortunately, our recently acquired Canadian travel-buddy spoke French but he struggled to haggle a cheaper taxi ride to Tetouan. Forty-kilometers later, mostly along the coast, we were dropped off in the middle of Tetouan.    Once we’d found accommodation, we dumped our backpacks and permitted a young man working at the riad to lead us through the nearby ancient medina. Overpowering smells, only a few palatable, caused me to heave and at times I had to pinch my nose. The vibrant spices, the heaps of henna and varieties of olives enticed me to spend money.   Adam’s (aka Omar) family run carpet shop happened to be the next port of call. How did that happen? A good few steps later, we climbed out on to a terrace to admire the magnificent view of the town: thousands of satellite dishes attached to crumbling white buildings, feral cats slinking in alley ways. We were served a glass of melted sugar with mint tea leaves, an instant injection of diabetes, before returning to the carpets below.    Instantly I fell in love […]