Camel in Morocco.

You navigate the ocean of hecklers and traders as you walk down the ocean-side pathway. There are shouts from everywhere, and everyone wants your attention. You learn about the incredible discounts of Hamza's carpet shop, while also being informed of the availability of Pepsi in Faisals new cafe.

But you have a goal. A goal that doen't include you buying a reasonably priced carpet, or sampling the fine Moroccan Pepsi. You have your eyes firmly fixed on a restaurant. You keep your eyes on it as the barrage of offers continues. Some people might come up to you as you walk and try to start conversation. But you ignore them an soldier on.

You reach the restaurant. Mission accomplished. You scan the menu. Everything looks normal and possibly almost average. But then something catches your eye.

Camel Tajine.

You order it, and consider your actions. There are many ethical implications of eating camel. The first is that they look like an enormous puppy. Their eyes have expression, and they are adorable. When tired, a camel will lie down on its side like a horse-sized dog on a hardwood floor. If you scratch their head, then they will rub their head against you like a dog would.

All in all, Camels are adorable.

But you try to convince yourself. Maybe this was a particuarly bad camel. Possibly an evil camel. The Hitler of the Camel world. Maybe it deserved to die, having previously expressed anti-semitic views. Or possibly the camel took its own life, having been involved in a heavily publicised insider trading scandal.

Whatever the reason, you feel glad when the tajine arrives.

The meat is light, like a soft beef. It pulls apart easily and melts in your mouth. Very, very nice. Try not to think about the cute camel eyes when you chew on his second-cousin.

I would happily eat it again, although maybe next time I will go for a less adorable animal.