The medina quarter of Tangier is a feast for the senses. The narrow alleys, the fragrance of spices known and unknown, the sounds of merchants, the sense of ancient history, the mild anxiety caused by being hopelessly out of place in a strange land. When my wife, Sherri, and I visited, I took every opportunity to pause and soak up the experience. On my own, I stopped at a café and found a table for one outside. The waiter and I did not know each other’s language, but together we were able to translate the menu. This was NOT a tourist’s restaurant. I tasted the chicken and olive dish, and watched Tangier life. It was one of the best meals I’ve ever had in my life — not solely for the food, though it was satisfying, but for the weather, the atmosphere of the bustling market, and the friendliness of most of the people I encountered. It was real, and I savored that.