"Hey, where you from?"

Memories of Egypt flooded back as the Morrocan shopkeeper came running up to us. "I like your hat, ha haaa!... how much did you pay?"

"It was free. I got it from my school."

He seemed confused by this. "How much?" he asked again. But the hat wasn't for sale. I had nearly lost it in the Atlantic just under an hour before, when a breeze lifted it off my head, sent it over the city ramparts and down into the Essaouira harbour. I had to climb past some pretty potent-smelling fishing boats to retrieve it, and was not willing to part with it just now. Either way, he had worked his opening.

"Please, come inside. I will show you something special. Just for looking." He led us into his shop, parted a curtain and led us into the inner sanctum.

After inviting us to sit, he crossed his own legs on the floor. He pulled a rug off of a wooden chest in the corner and lay it between us. "This is my family store. And this is my treasure box," he said as he ran his hand over the chest. He tenderly undid the latch and revealed the small wooden boxes and cloth sachets hidden inside.

Untying one of the sacks, we caught a glimpse of silver and precious stones. "This is Tuareg. From the Sahara." He continued to show us other jewellery as he chatted us up. "Are you in Essaouira long?"

"Just for the day. We´re staying in Marrakech."

"Marrakech! Man, that´s a craaazy city. We call it the New York of Morocco, ha haaa!"

We enjoyed his company and his stories, but unfortunately not any of his jewellery. He thanked him very nicely and got up to leave. He continued to ask us if we need anything else, but nothing really caught our fancy.

At this point, his friend came in. Dressed in a long blue galabiya and a huge white turban, he caught us on the way out. "Hey man! I like your glasses! Can I see them?"

I figured why not. He took them with care when I passed them to him. "Rayban?" he asked me.

"No," I laughed. I think I got them for about $5 at a Shoppers Drug Mart a few years back.

He placed them on his face. "Oooooh, I like them. What do you think about trade? You know, swapping? You give me the glasses, and I give you a turban?"

We were having so much fun with the whole experience, I had no problem whatsoever agreeing to this offer. So he pulled a nice blue material from a shelf and proceeded to wrap it around my head.



I must admit that the glasses suited him better than the turban did me, but the accompanying story made me feel like I got a fair trade.