Ignoring the tour rep's warnings I left the hotel and put myself at the mercy of street hustlers and unofficial guides.
"Hello, your first time to Tangier?"
"No," I lied.
"I take you to Berber market."
"No thanks."
They line the street. "Hello I work in your hotel kitchen, remember me?"
"No."
"I show you around."
"I know my way."
One every twenty metres. "Hello, I like practice English."
"No!"
"My brother has a nice shop."
"Not interested."
"Hello you like Interzone?"
"No!!"
"Cheap Rolex?"
"Fuck off."
"Hashish very cheap."
"Mmh how much?"
The streets are crawling with low life attracted to the money in my pocket. Fifty quid exchanges into a huge roll of sweaty diram notes that make you feel like a millionaire and compared to the average Moroccan it's easy to adopt the role. After I'd got my bearings I spent the first afternoon drinking by the hotel pool, more waiters than flies so I never had to leave my sunlounger. Intoxicated, it took a while to work out beer runs at �1 a bottle for the local brews Stork or Flag. I'd been tipping on the heavy side, no wonder the waiters had huge smiles.
Tangier is split into two parts: there is the new sector along the beach where most the hotels are situated and then there is the Medina and Kasbah, the walled old town. The tour rep had recommended not going into the old town alone which everyone should realise translates to 'hand over a large sum for our guided tour'.
Tuesday...