I was wrong about those palm trees that I told you about. The three palm trees on the road to Mhmed near the edge of the Sahara. Take a look. I'm amazed by my memory and how it deceives me at times. How is it that I remember the boy's face below, that I vividly recall those moments and see him in my mind? Yet my memory of the palm trees is fuzzy. Yet I do remember three palm trees rising from the one base... where were those palm trees?

On the road from Zagora to Mhmed, near the edge of the Sahara, we met these children. We'd stopped to take a photo of three palm trees, fanned out as if growing from the same trunk. A group of cute kids ran to the car, their little hands grasping for whatever we had to give them... candies, oranges, gum, coins... When we'd distributed what we had they ran away, but two stayed... out of curiosity? Or humanity? The child on the left just kidded around, pulling faces, smiling... the one on the right studied us inquisitively. His wise gaze has stayed with me. I wonder if we'll meet again some day. On our travels.

Taroudant is a wonderful walled town east of Agadir on the way to Ouarzazate in Morocco. If you're doing a road trip from Marrakesh to the Sahara make sure you stop overnight. There's a small bustling souq that rarely sees foreigners, and yet the stallholders have a relaxed demeanour. The best buy here is handmade leather sandals. But that's not what I want to tell you. On the main square is a man - a man with a mouthful of shiny white teeth who is exceedingly generous with his smiles. He cooks up fresh hot potato crisps in a wok-like deep-fryer. He's just as generous with his servings - and with the salt. It was chilly the evening we bought our chips from him, wrapped in paper. But I'm not sure what I remember most... the chips or his smile. Both warmed our souls.