P128
CN
III LOWSIDE
BY RENNIE SCAYSBROOK
T
he stench is eye-watering.
Draped from the rafters
are plucked upside-down
chicken carcasses next to cages
containing live birds. To my right
on a bench is a rotting pork
hoof, and further to the end of
the hall on the left is a severed
cow's head staring at me in an
awkward gaze.
The man guiding me and my
companion leads us past the
assorted animal parts and into
a room not unlike what travelers
would have come to from the
Silk Road. Candlelit cashmere
and necklaces and trinkets hang
from the walls, directing my eyes
to a table, where a mysterious
man in a headscarf with half his
face covered presides over the
largest mound of saffron I have
ever seen.
Saffron, for those who like
to cook, is one of the world's
most valued commodities—not
just spices. Used for dishes like
risotto and the wonderful Span-
ish paella, a gram of saffron from
Trader Joes can set you back
about $25. And yet here I was,
standing in front of what must
have been at least 10 pounds of
the crimson red gold strands.
Photos are strictly prohibited.
Welcome to Ouarzazate,
Morocco.
After some traditional hag-
gling, I walk out of the spice
WORLDS APART
There is no better
way getting to
places like this than
on a motorcycle.
