Doris the pregnant donkey wanders past, going home to her corral, the peacocks, Frank and Stein, sleep on the thatch roof of the bar, the two long little dogs, Woof and Whatsit, are sitting at our feet while we have a glass of wine as the sun sets over the pool. The villas are all open, just curtains drawn against the elements.

Set up by a British couple who moved their family of four young children to Morocco four years ago – in a record five months – Villas Fawakay are three villas 20 minutes from the heart of Marrakesh. Each has its own little plunge pool, as well as a long, luscious main pool. The gardens are a rich green thanks to recent rains, which the pet goats and Doris attack with gay abandon.

It’s no hardship to hang out here. I napped in the afternoon on my fluffy bed, to awake to the peahen, Stein, staring in the window at me. She and her husband, Frank, had been napping in the shade on the rattan loungers outside my window.

The sounds of traffic horns and revving buses are long gone. All I can hear is Doris’ steady munch and the adaan from a nearby mosque. Each meal is prepared in the main kitchens and brought to my villa, and at the end of the day, I join the family for dinner by the pool. But this idyllic time must end, and it’s into the fray of Marrakech today…