Before the above photo was taken, I had never tasted Coca Cola.
Morocco was alcohol free in those days, so I had no alternative (other than Fanta or Pepsi). Nowadays things are different.
In 1970 you could openly buy large blocks of hashish (they looked like big cellophane wrapped chocolate bars and contained a government stamp) but a beer or a glass of wine was verboten. You really wouldn't have wanted to drink the water!
On entering the country some evil man had made me have my hair cut short. Lady Magnon had a small pair of nail scissors in her bag, and my luscious locks were unceremoniously left at the port of entry.
Still, nothing can detract from that pleasant shock of entering the Maghreb, with it's medieval ways and customs. The dark cool souks, the henna tattooed women, and the men all dressed in djellabas; it was like entering another era.
Amazingly it is still much the same; and all within a very short flight from London, Paris, or Toulouse. An essential destination.