My new reality

Our bus, the Marrakech Express, continued onward.  We headed back towards the High Atlas mountains stopping occasionally for views, tea, and pee.  Our elevation eventually reached 2260 meters (7400 ft) at the highest pass.  This road through the mountains was originally built by the French but has recently been upgraded for which I’m grateful.  The switchbacks were no joke but the views were amazing.  Once over the top the landscape changed from the dun color of the high plains to Moroccan red.   This area was the epicenter for the recent September 2023 earthquake. Helicopters were used to find remote villages buried. 

It wasn’t long after crossing that we arrived in Marrakech.  Marrakech, which means “land of God” in Berber, is the 4th largest city in Morocco at 1 million pop.  It has been populated by only Berbers and Arabs since its founding around 1062AD.  The land here is semi arid and is fed from the High Atlas runoff.  Temperatures are chilly in the winter but can reach 120F in the summer.  Orchards and olive groves from the 12th century lined the entrance boulevard. We passed through one of the 12 gates in the city wall (12 original gates, a few more added since then) to our hotel, the Sofitel Marrakech. 

The next morning we enjoyed a walk through the Yves St. Laurent Garden and museum.  YSL rehabbed the garden during his time here.  He also was a collector of Berber dress and adornments which were on display in the museum.  The silver jewelry was ornate and beautiful: headdresses, fibula, necklaces.  Afterwards we visited the YSL museum highlighting his floral dress designs.  This visit satisfied my “Project Runway” fix.  There was a brief movie about his life.  Afterwards, we enjoyed a ride around the city: clean, bustling, vibrant, then a visit to another ‘garden’, an olive orchard within the city limits.  Locals visit here to relax or walk around the mountain-fed reservoir.  Olive trees grow several hundred years but the roots can be much older, sending new shoots up to form trunks as the older ones die off every couple hundred years.  We returned to Sofitel for a few hours at the pool.  It seemed like Marrakech could be a good place for Europeans to visit in the winter, like the Miami of Europe. 

Later that afternoon we headed to the medina for a visit.  Our first stop was to a spice merchant where, after an entertaining description yet obvious sales pitch (and tea), many of us succumbed to purchasing spices and argan and cactus oils. The merchant and his wares were vetted by our tour organization so we trusted his products.  We then entered into the depths of the medina maze, some 5,000 alleys with souks galore.  And motorbikes everywhere.  It’s hard to fathom how motorbikes are allowed in these narrow passages and even harder to get out of their way fast enough. It was crazy and far less appealing than Fes.  Salesmen were just as aggressive.  After tramping through on our own for a bit we caught up with the group and headed to the open square, Djemaa El Fna, the heart of Marrakech.  Food stands, fruit sellers, henna painters, and snake charmers all vying for your Dirham or dollar. Sheep’s head anyone? 

Our group broke up at that point, some staying for dinner or shopping, others returning to the hotel.  We stayed and dined at L’mida, a NYT recommended Moroccan fusion rooftop restaurant.  The flavors were divine: cheese bouriates (samosas), a Moroccan chicken taco, tuna poke bowl with zucchini noodles and a wonderful garlic spice, chicken skewers, and a green risotto.  Our mocktails were good too (little to no alcohol is served within the medina walls).  We walked back to the hotel with our dinner mates – through the marketplace, lively and lit up with street performers and a carnival like atmosphere.  Southerly Moroccan communities come alive at night as locals go out and enjoy the cool night air.  To dodge traffic on busy roads (a green walk sign does NOT indicate it is safe to go) we buddied up with local grandmas also scurrying for their lives.  Did I mention lawless motorbikes?  The minaret was our compass.  A stray dog followed us back. It was a memorable day and night in Marrakech.

Unfortunately, upon returning to the hotel, we had an email from Lufthansa (I hate them) advising us of another strike 2 days hence-when we were scheduled to fly. This would be the 4th strike in the 35 days we’d been traveling, the first delaying our trip by a day.  After a sleepless night, we rebooked to leave that day, Tuesday, since Lufthansa (I hate them) flies out of Casablanca only twice weekly (Tuesday and Friday).  Lufthansa (I hate them) was unavailable for info: Rebooking? Credit or refund? Alternative airlines?  Ugh.  We rebooked on our own (thank you business class) to fly Marrakech to Casablanca and then on to Frankfurt on Tuesday and Frankfurt to JFK Wednesday.  Which we did.  I’m sure the OU team would have assisted with return travel had we asked.  We missed a horse drawn carriage ride around Marrakech and mosque and palace visits, a group dinner, a bus ride to Casablanca, some tours there including entering the Grand Mosque of Hassan II, the second largest mosque in Islam and open to non-Muslims (my only regret), a reservation at Rick’s Cafe (which we had made on our own) and a farewell dinner with the tour group whom we had come to love.  Salah was concerned yet understanding and everyone gave us a hug.  And so we departed Morocco in a hurry after 35 days of travel: Kenya, Tanzania, Brussels, Frankfurt, and Morocco.   So grateful for these wonderful adventures. Ella Al-liqaa – til we meet again.

If you go:  we highly recommend our tour agency, Odysseys Unlimited.  Try to get Salah Eddine as your tour director.  He was informative, high energy, patient, understanding, concerned for our welfare, took care of the smallest request, funny, and caring.  We ate too much and were busy every day.  As for packing advice: I wore what I packed for the safari to Kenya and Tanzania but wished I had a few nicer things for dinner (maybe a nice blouse and not a fast dry tee shirt) in the cities.  It was cool in the mornings and some evenings but heated up during the day.  The mountain stops were windy and cold but we were there briefly.  We used our rain jackets once or twice. There were no restrictions on what we could wear since I’d say belly shirts and camis and mini skirts had seen their day with our group anyway.  I saw many well dressed locals-Moroccans are a beautiful people.  Good walking shoes recommended but maybe wear flats for dinner.  A wrap or pashmina would be good if I was a pashmina wearer otherwise a fleece.  It is so dry Greg and I both suffered with sinus issues and bloody noses.  Bring tissues, cough drops, and other dry relief.  People expected tips for any photos taken and most restrooms had attendants so keep coins handy.  On our OU tour Salah,the tour director, took care of all these tips, a nice convenience. Dirham to dollar is 10:1.  We visited in late February/early March.  It can get quite hot after April/May.  Medina markets generally close Friday afternoons. Northern cities get quiet in the evening; southern cities get busier as it’s cooler.  Thank you (shukran) for reading.

Packing list-late Feb/early Mar travel.

1 pair low hiking shoes though sneakers would be fine, 1 pair sandals or flats for dinner, 1 pair flip flops for pool. 1 pair quick dry pants or jeans, 1 pair dress pants. 1 pair shorts, 2 skorts. 4 short sleeve tees, 2 long sleeve, a couple nicer shirts for dinner. 1 light winter packable jacket, 1 rain jacket, 1 fleece, 1 sweater.  Leggings, pj’s, undies and bras, swimsuit, socks.