All roads lead to the Grand Socco, where Tangier’s pulse is strongest. By morning, the square erupts with market vendors arranging pyramids of olives and dates. Old women in striped haiks haggle over still-flapping fish, while shopkeepers arrange lanterns that will glow like fireflies come evening. The art deco Cinema Rif stands sentinel, its vintage marquee now advertising cultural films. As day fades, the square becomes a stage: teenagers flirting near the fountain, storytellers gathering circles of listeners, the scent of roasting almonds cutting through diesel fumes. To sit at one of the café terraces here is to witness Tangier’s endless theater – a performance that’s been running for millennia, with ever-changing actors but the same irresistible plot.
