Rooding has never been in Morocco. But to be an armchair traveller is no problem for her. When her mind goes to Morocco, she smells a certain scent, warm and spicy, such as the fragrance of peppermint thee. She hears the hullabaloo of a city with hooting cars and just a little bit further away the trampling of a heavy loaded donkey. The allure calls of a mosque, music, and once out of the city her foot steps in the sand.