منطاد فوق النخيل

The car collects you around half past five, while the medina is still dark. At the launch field north of the Palmeraie you watch the envelope fill, the burners throwing light across the ground, then step into a basket reserved for your party alone.

The hour that follows is quiet. You drift between three hundred and a thousand meters, over palm groves, olive terraces and the flat roofs of villages waking up, with the Atlas holding snow on the southern horizon. Your steward lays breakfast on a table inside the basket: bread, honey, msemen, coffee poured at altitude.

You land in a field, take mint tea with the recovery crew, and are back at your riad by ten. It suits early risers, photographers, and anyone who wants the rest of the day still ahead of them.