MOROCCO
April 2026
Some of you may have done the “Marrakesh Express” in your younger days - catching local buses, staying in youth hostels, chasing down hashish. I was never that adventurous so I’m finally venturing to Morocco when I need hot showers, comfortable beds and a guide to show me through the medinas (old towns).
Morocco is a country of colours.The pink rose petals in the perfume shops. The lush green paddocks of the Rif plateau. The brilliant blues of Chefchaouen. The rainbow tones of the silk shops. The ochre tones of the Marrakesh Medina. The brilliant purples and blues of the slipper shops.And then there are the flavours which also come with colours. The best oranges in the world, full of juice and taste. The dark caramel colour of the sweet honey from the flowers of the Atlas Mountains. The dark green mint adorning Moroccan tea as well as the Virgin Mojitos. The apricot tones of the locally made “Gris” wine.
Our tour, presented by the German-owned company Explore! was defined as “upgraded” which translated into comfortable and unusual accommodation and no compulsory camel rides into the desert. Susan and I flew to Rabat, the capital, via Singapore and Paris (travelling time about 30 hours). Our home for the next couple of days was a riad, a traditional Moroccan house – in this case, a three story building in the old town - built around a courtyard, protected by a large wooden door. Cars can’t enter the narrow alleys of the medina so we were dropped off outside the walls and a young man grabbed our bags and headed off with us traipsing, diversify bemusedly, behind him. As it turns out, Rabat’s Medina is reasonably straightforward to navigate compared to others which was a relief given my notoriously bad sense of direction.
Rabat sits on a river, looking out to the rolling waves of the Atlantic Ocean accessible across wide swaths of yellow sand. From the white Kasbah (fortress), one could see surfers, fishing boats with high blue and yellow prows, single rower ferries getting people across the river, boys doing bombies, cats prowling among the fisherman. It was a great introduction to Morocco. Not too large. Not too overwhelming. Not full of people hassling you to buy.
We had given ourselves a day just in case connections were missed and so felt rather proud that we had a sense of the place before the tour started. There’s always a moment of fear when the group starts to gather. Are they going to be crass (Japan)? Dull (Malta)? Red-neck (Kimberley)? And answer this time, miraculously, is that everyone was nice. We were a Commonwealth group which might explain it - Canadians, London, Guernsey, Melbourne. I know that “nice” might seem like a bland word but in this case it means decent, pleasant, warm humans. Some talked a tad too much. Some weren’t quite as interesting as others. But overall, we were lucky. And they all liked a glass of rose with dinner if that was at all feasible..
Of course, Morocco is a majority Muslim country and it’s not done to be seen to drink but the country does have a dozen wineries and there are bottle shops in every large town. Our delightful guide, Ali, an informative and helpful 44 year old man of Berber extraction, had a glass sometimes at dinner but said that his family doesn’t know he drinks. For the most part our drinking was in the privacy of a riad but once or twice we could drink at a restaurant.
Morocco is a Sunni country even though the early Muslims in the area were Shia. Sunnis are a little more relaxed than Shias but most women still wear headscarves and long sleeved kaftans and in Marrakesh in particular, one could see women in niqabs. While I hate that look, I do love seeing the men in djellabas (long kaftans) of many colours. And of course, every day and night is defined by the call to prayer from dozens of mosques. An interesting fact - most Moroccan minarets are square, a sign that the Ottomans didn’t get this far.
Morocco was probably the least “colonised” country in Africa. Not surprisingly, the Portuguese tried to control the coast, the French were interested from the 1830s, and there were various wars with Spain. On the drive from Rabat to Chefchaouen, you cross on invisible border where Spanish becomes the dominant European language rather than French. Morocco was a French & Spanish Protectorate from 1912-56 but it remained a sovereign country with a sultan. It remains a monarchy and a monarchy where the king has real power - making appointments to specific ministries such as foreign and religious affairs, and making policy decisions about issues as varied as milk self-sufficiency, dam building and planting olive trees.
It’s hard to get a sense of what the locals feel about the current King of Morocco, Mohammed VI. Most people seemed proud of him but it’s a limited form of democracy. His response to the Arab Spring demonstrations were reforms including more rights for women and recognition of Berber culture and is seen to be a moderate influence amongst Arabic leaders. But he’s also Morocco’s leading businessman and banker and there have been accusations of corruption. Regardless of rights for women, women can’t ascend the throne. As one of guides said, in a slightly embarrassed tone to a group of mainly women, we’re too emotional and can’t be trusted to make rational decisions!! There were various attempts by guides to justify some of the worst aspects of Islam for women but all in way that acknowledged our disbelief.
Needless to say, there’s a world of difference between the various expansive, beautifully decorated palaces throughout the country and the people living in the cramped corners of the medinas or the half built concrete buildings in the countryside. What was amazing about the landscape was how green it was. One thinks North Africa and desert but whether in the mountains dotted with fruit trees or the rich agricultural land of the plateaus, it was lush. However lushness doesn’t necessarily lead to wealth. Due to Islamic laws about inheritance, farms get smaller and smaller over generations so people were sewing small fields by hand; donkeys were doing much of the labour; flocks of sheep, goats and cows were small, each with their own shepherd spending all day keeping an eye on them (or looking at their mobile phones).
As well as a good guide, we also had a great driver. Zachariah, a handsome young man from the Sahara, always smiling, negotiated endless potholes, winding switchbacks without guardrails, the madness of city traffic where zebra crossings mean nothing, the narrowness of the behinds, with aplomb. The only challenge was the bus itself. The seats were comfortable enough but every seatbelt was twisted so no give and knee room limited. After the second day, my right knee (the one I fractured last year) gave out and I’ve spent most of the trip hobbling around like an old lady with my walking stick. That was particularly galling because there was a very fit 79 year old and the equally energetic 75 year old in our group. Having a dud knee was particularly disappointing in beautiful Chefchaouen because it’s a town set into the side of a mountain and there are stairs absolutely everywhere.
The blue of Chefchaouen came with the Jews who emigrated from Europe in the 1930s. It was used to repel the evil eye and adopted by their Islamic neighbours. It’s everywhere - on walls and floors, window frames and cobblestones. Stunning environment. The story of the Jews in Morocco is long. They were the first monotheists who came to convert the Berbers. And then the Romans arrived bring Christianity. And finally Muslims arrived from the Middle East, led by a grandson of Mohammed. The second wave of Jews were part of the Spanish expulsion of 1492 and then came a more contested piece of recent history. Where the Moroccan Jews driven out last century in response to the Nakba, in retaliation for Palestinians being expelled from the newly formed Israel? Where they bribed to leave Morocco by the Israeli government to build the Jewish population in Israel? Who knows, but the numbers now are tiny although many of the areas of old towns and medians still have names that connect to their Jewish history.
The other ethnic group that I didn’t know much about are the indigenous inhabitants, the Berbers. They have a language and a script that is completely different to Arabic and it’s only recently become a national language. Although a quarter of the population speak the language, some believe that 50% if not more have Berber heritage.
Our next stop was Fes, historic capital of Morocco. We stayed in a different “riad” this time, a new hotel designed around the same principles of courtyard and arches, decorative latticework and fountains. We were high on the hill in the 13th century Medina looking back to the 1920s French Quarter with its European-style mansions, new settlements with more standard apartment blocks, and the 9th century Medina.
We spent nearly a whole day in the old Medina, in the hands of a local guide, Rachid and thank goodness for that- because there was no way that I would have found to/through any of the specialist “streets”, the madrases or the mosques, let alone worked out how to get out of the place. There are over 900 alleys, all narrow, all covered, and all (though I didn’t notice this at the time) overseen by video cameras. As well as just walking and looking, we were taken to some of the more traditional workshops and Susan, in particular, had a great shopping splurge. We saw potters and men painting patterns onto ceramics. We saw men sitting in their haunches, hammering away to create mosaics and men laying them out for tables and fountains. With mint pressed into our hands to alleviate the smell, we went into a tannery where people were stirring vats of dye and bending over in impossible positions to scrap hair off hides as they would have done hundreds of years ago. We walked past the shops selling reels of coloured agave silk to a workshop where cloth was woven out of silk and camel’s hair, cotton and linen.
Food has been as you’d expect:
• Brilliant tagines of tender meat and either fruit or vegetables, sometimes with cous cous, sometimes without
• Mixed skewers of lamb, chicken, beef and goat
• Fascinating range of bread from items that looked like roti or pancakes; rolls made from semolina; and flatbread with depth - to be enjoyed with honey and jam and almond spread
• Large, delicious strawberries and brilliant juicily sweet oranges
• Crunchy little almond and coconut and sesame and honey biscuits
• Fresh grilled trout from the Atlas Mountains.
After a night in the Atlas Mountains to visit the Ouzoud Waterfalls (second highest in Africa) we drove on to Marrakesh through a landscape that started to look a little like what I’d expected - flatter, drier, with the ochre-red buildings that gives the city it’s name. Again, we were in a riad in the Medina. Again, we had a guided tour of palaces and souks. Again, we wound our way through narrow roads crowded with motorbikes, horse-drawn carriages, cars, and taxis. There was only one disconcerting moment and we missed it. One night, the younger team went out while we went home and there was an attempted bag snatching via motorbike. But for the most part whether it was saying “bonjour” to the elderly men, smiling at the scarved women, complimenting the young men on their English, or saying “shukran” (thank you) most of our (albeit limited interactions) with the locals were warm.
Having said that, it must be no fun being a driver in Morocco. Whether at city intersections or country roundabouts, there were always cops. The rules about professional drivers only being on the road for 2 hours before requiring a 15 minute break was being rigorously enforced - to the great benefit, I imagine, of government coffers.
So what did I conclude about our 10 days in Morocco? Welcoming people. Brilliant colours. A world full of cats and donkeys. Best oranges in the world. Layers of Berber, Jewish, Roman, Arabic, and European history. Doors and courtyard and roofs and pillars covered in carvings and mosaics. And an understanding of why some of you reading this newsletter have decorated your houses with Moroccan colours and design.
Photos:
1. Souk in Marrakesh
2. Riad in Rabat
3. Rabat Kasbah
4. Bahia Palace, Marrakesh
5. Driving to Chefchaoeun
6. Chefchaoeun
7. Fes
8. Tannery, Fes Medina
9. Breakfast in Rabat
10. Laneway in Marrakesh.
Comments
Post a Comment