When I'm a billionaire and I've already got my Amsterdam pizza delivery boy MotoGP up and running, the next project will be another life threatening street race but set in amongst the tiny Souks of Marrakesh. The max speed obtainable on such puny step-through machines wont render it as terrifying as Macau, but then again Macau isn't awash with donkey piss, toothless beggars, carpet salesmen trying to abduct your wife, and dumb tourists stumbling about.
I've just got back from a week's family holiday. We stayed in a cheapo riad with air-con that actually heated our room up above the ambient street temp. Icecream couscous became our staple diet. But it's an amazing place. I had hoped to sneak off for a couple of days KTM'ing with Wilderness Wheels, but my back was still out, so I had to make do with a one day taxi trip into the spectacular Atlas mountains and daily gorking at mopeds.