It was an age before I summoned the resolve to glance down at the snake wrapped around my neck. My brain told me it was harmless - after all, it was small enough, and more importantly, it was being held by a pleasant, if rather too insistent, young man who did this for a living, i.e., ambush tourists - but my instinct told me to flee. Which I would have done if I wasn't frozen to the spot.
But given that in the past year I had reviewed for this paper not one, but two travel books concerned with snake hunting, my curiosity was aroused and I felt a professional obligation to face the terror.
And not only did I look, I ended up handling him - the snake, not the young man - before I began the difficult process of extricating myself from the physical and financial clutches of this entrepreneur.
He was looking for "300 dirham, 300 dirham, 300 dirham" for having allowed my colleague to get a snapshot of me and my snake. That's about £20. Now, I can be naive but I am not a complete innocent, so I got away by handing him every coin in my pocket. Fortunately, that amounted to about 50p.
Of course, we had deliberately ventured into this particular ambush in the Place Djamaa-el-Fna, the central square of Marrakech, for, touristy though it was, I wanted to get a closer look at the black cobras the snake "charmers" were annoying to the point of erection. They're still a mesmerising sight.
We hadn't far to walk to the square - about 20 yards - because we were guests of Club Med and staying in their "village" which is slap bang in the centre of the medina.
Like many people, I had always associated Club Med with twentysomethings and the three S's. But over the decades those twentysomethings have grown into forty and fiftysomethings, and Club Med have been clever enough to alter their strategy to cater for the changing needs and interests of their traditional clientle.
The Club Med "experience" can take a bit of getting used to (and it will never suit some), but don't be put off by their "mission statement", a treatise of cloying jargon celebrating your "membership" of the club. Your holiday is "co-ordinated by a unique team of professional international hosts and hostesses known as `GOs' (Gentils Organisateurs) who dedicate themselves to looking after you, the `GMs' (Gentils Membres)".
Well gentle member, what all this translates into, at least as far as Marrakech is concerned, is quite simply superb accommodation, food and facilities.
A Club Med holiday is all in, that is, the price includes flights, transfers, accommodation and food (with unlimited wine at the sumptuous lunches and dinners) and various sporting activities.
The "village" is in effect a fine hotel where members may (it's entirely optional - GMs are not inmates) have their evening meal. Not surprisingly, given the French influence mixed with the traditional Moroccan cuisine, the food is outstanding. And it's all you can eat. And drink. Every evening.
Club Med Marrakech also has a "leisure garden" on the edge of town (free coaches run regularly) where members may have their lunch (All you can eat. And drink. Every day.) in the open air beside the pool, before perhaps a hectic game of table tennis and a siesta underneath a tall tree.
The danger, of course, is that you get caught up in all this doing-nothing-for-yourself and discover at the end of your holiday that although you travelled to Morocco you were never really in Morocco. Ironically, that suits some holidaymakers.
And the auld "membership" business breaks down badly when you approach the bar in the village. Club Med does not allow cash to be exchanged between the GOs and GMs - it would somehow sully the relationship - so if you want to have a few drinks of an evening you must go to the front desk and buy some vouchers, which you then hand to the GO behind the bar. And the vouchers are non-refundable: if you spend only £5 of your £20 booklet, hard luck.
Still, a GM is free to do whatever he or she likes, and among the options are excursions organised by the club (cost extra). We opted for a day-long trek in a 4x4 up into the High Atlas mountains. It was a wise choice.
Aside from the expected wonderful scenery, we also got out with our guide and walked through several of the Berber villages on the route. Club Med began these trips only recently, and the villagers still consider these visits something of a curiosity - they're not yet fed up with tourists gawking at them.
And, of course, the day includes yet another magnificent, open air lunch at a fine restaurant in the foothills.
Also to be recommended - here comes more food and drink - is an evening at one (or both) of the two, huge, rival "Fantasia theme restaurants" set side-by-side in the plain outside town as if a bit of the Las Vegas strip had been transplanted.
One, the Fantasia Chez Ali, can only be described as architecture by Disney, entertainment by Caesar's Palace (the entrance to the place is straight out of Stargate 1). It's a bit like the Bunratty banquet on steroids and acid.
As you dine underneath the canopies of simply enormous tents, you are serenaded by a series of musicians and dancers in the various regional costumes. At the end of the meal, everyone retires to the central arena for the spectacular horse show and fireworks. Sure it's touristy, but it's great fun.
Ali's nextdoor neighbour is Fantasia Borj Bladi, run by the affable giant Charlie, who learned his English in Florida and his business acumen at the feet of King Midas. Charlie's taste in architecture is rather more subtle, but the food is sublime and the theatre every bit as satisfying as Ali's.
The Club Med Marrakech experience is an extraordinarily comfortable introduction to Morocco, and you might just be tempted to return to the place - perhaps on your own terms.
Club Med Marrakech: Weekly adult price starts from Stg£524 (from Stanstead).
High Atlas excursion: Stg£55.
Tour of souks: half-day, Stg£6.
Fantasia evenings: Stg£25
Getting there
Royal Air Maroc flies twice a week direct to Marrakech from Stansted and every day from Heathrow to Casablanca. Return from £180 sterling plus £26 sterling taxes.