A languorous stroll in Southern Morocco in search of its many facets. Rocked by the waves of the Atlantic Ocean in the former Portuguese trading posts. From town to town through the barren immensities of Anti Atlas and Sahara. Between light and shade in the streets of Marrakech.

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Fès, Meknès, Chefchaouen, Tetouan. Their labyrinthine-like mysterious lanes - like they are fixed in time - serve as a jewel case for a precious world, that of a preserved and traditional Morocco. There you expect to meet a fortune teller at a street corner or to hear behind heavy wooden carved doors a fountain's gentle hiss mixed with the laughter of women and children.

Totally different is Tangiers, the dynamic link between North Africa and Europe, barely ten miles away from each other. The few remaining traces of tradition can only be found in its medina, high up on the hill that overlooks it. The same goes for Rabat and Casablanca, the country's political and economic capitals, since the French protectorate, which left a tangible mark on both towns' physiognomy and culture.

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Contrasts.

A formal contrast, first, that of black and white, which accentuates Marrakech's own, that of a highly touristic city, for sure, but also a popular city, that of its inhabitants.

Then the contrast between that very Marrakech and the Western Sahara's vast dull expanses. And finally the contrast between the latter and the few small, provincial towns that grew there.

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