Our driver turns down a dozen dizzying backstreets and grinds to a halt deep within the bowels of the Marrakech medina.
A gang of street urchins promise to deliver us to Le Foundouk from here. We exit the security of our cab with some hesitation. The kids run down the dark alleys ahead and, in exchange for tips, turn us over to a new batch of artful dodgers.
They pass us on to a fat man in long robe and a red fez.
"Seize those meddling tourists!" he demands. (I made that part up). Actually, he just brings us to the restaurant (for a tip).
Inside… Well, inside was worth the hassle getting here.