'Ah, Mister, does one need a treatment?' The twinkly-eyed aged Berber guy inquired abruptly. For some reason his voice that was quiet taken, cutting through the din of never-ending entreaties and mopeds, cries, donkeys, horns to see a series of retail premises, as we sheltered for an instant in the piercing sunlight and penetrated our exhausted stupor.
Two refreshing mint teas and half an hour after, we'd loved an extensive tour of conventional and historic treatments and make-up, from argan oil to frankincence. The prosperity of the early sultans and the history of the spice trade, developing as it had in a semi desert climate, made everything from digestive remedies to compellingly specialist creative artwork and aromatic perfumed oils a fine. A glorious mix of north meeting south, east meeting west, and here the wisdom of the ages had joined to create alternatives to every societal or malady issue. But it was clear my partner's long ago broken nose had the snoring difficulty he'd endured from for almost two decades, and proposed sinuses filled with scar tissue.
And the chin strap snoring solution? Not pharmaceutically, although I had struck these pungent dark nibs in masalas before. Nevertheless, it was shown, when wriggled into a bit of fine material and rubbed steadfastly and they give off a pungent smell, which I could well envisage being a strong decongestant. And, the exact same seeds could be kept and reused many times as our host pointed out.
Well, the tea was wonderful and we'd not have revealed ingratitude or offence, so 100g of nigella seed added itself to my growing stack of small totes at the till. I will consistently use them I believed. You may ask does pure sleep work?