‘Ah, Sir, do you require a cure for snoring?’ The twinkly-eyed elderly Berber man asked suddenly. For some reason his quiet voice carried, cutting through the din of mopeds, shouts, donkeys, horns and endless entreaties to visit a succession of retail premises, and penetrated our tired stupor as we sheltered for a moment from the piercing sun.

Footsore and weary after a day tramping the souks of Marrakech, we exchanged a glance, then followed the stooped and ancient gentleman through some dark drapes into his veritable Aladdin’s Cave of a shop. After all, I thought, spices are the only thing I actually set out to buy in the first place, so it might as well be here.

Half an hour and two refreshing mint teas later, we had enjoyed an extensive tour of historical and traditional remedies and cosmetics, from argan oil to frankincence. The history of the spice trade and the wealth of the ancient sultans, developing as it had in a semi-desert climate, made everything from digestive cures to compellingly aromatic perfumed oils a delicate and specialist creative art. A glorious blend of east meeting west, north meeting south, and here the wisdom of the ages had combined to create solutions to every malady or social problem. But it was obvious my partner’s long-ago broken nose had suggested sinuses full of scar tissue, and the snoring problem he had suffered from for nearly two decades. Kudos to our perceptive host, and I was happy that he should be the one to have our Dirhams for the oils and spice blends I wanted to take home with me.

And the Berber cure for snoring? It turned out to be nigella seeds. I’d encountered these pungent dark nibs in masalas before, but not pharmaceutically. However, it was demonstrated, when twisted into a pinch of fine cloth and rubbed firmly and briskly between the palms, they give off a pungent odor, which I could well envisage being a powerful decongestant. Inhaled deeply into each nostril in turn, I can imagine it would have significant benefits, for anyone who’s snoring was temporary as a result of a sinus infection or allergic reaction. And, as our host pointed out, the same seeds could be stored and reused many times.

Well, the tea had been lovely and we would not have shown offence or ingratitude, so 100g of nigella seed added itself to my growing pile of little bags at the till. I can always use them in a curry, I thought.