Morocco

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It is spicy in the souks, and cool and colourful. The smell, always pleasant, changes gradually with the nature of the merchandise. There are no names or signs; there is no glass. Everything for sale is on display. You never know what things will cost; they are neither impaled with their prices, not are the prices themselves fixed,
All the booths and stalls selling the same thing are close together – twenty or thirty or more of them. There is a bazaar for spices and another for leather goods. The ropemakers have their place and the basketweavers have theirs. Some of the carpet dealers have large, spacious vaults; you stride past them as past a separate city and meaningly invited inside. The jewellers are grouped round a courtyard of their own, and in many of their narrow booths you can see men at work. You find everything – but you always find it many times over (…)
It is astounding what dignity they achieve, these things that men have made (…)  

Elias Canetti - The voices of Marrakesh