Morocco - Part 2

 

 Letter No. 279

Dear all,

Our holiday to Morocco / Europe continued:

Day 7: Fez

We kicked off the day at 9:30am with a visit to the Royal Palace of Fez (Dar el-Makhzen). It’s a sprawling 42-acre complex of gardens and grandeur, but unless you are royalty or a locksmith, you must settle for admiring the gates. Fortunately, the gates are spectacular—bronze, intricately carved, and flanked by mosaic tiles that scream “imperial opulence”.

Next, we drove to the Marinid Tombs, 14th-century ruins perched above the city like a pair of historical eyebrows. Built by the Marinid dynasty, they offer sweeping views of Fez and a gentle reminder that even royalty eventually ends up as scenic rubble.

Then we went on to a traditional pottery workshop where artisans craft Fez’s famous blue ceramics. The process involves hand-chiselling tiny mosaic pieces with monk-like patience and assembling them into patterns so precise they make spreadsheets look chaotic.

The real adventure began with a four-hour walking tour of the Fez Medina, a UNESCO World Heritage site and the largest surviving medieval city in the Arab world. Enclosed by 14km of walls, the 9^th century Medina is a living labyrinth of over 9,000 alleyways, many of which seem designed specifically to confuse GPS. It is also a treasure trove of history:

·        Al-Qarawiyyin University, established in 859 AD by Fatima al-Fihri, is the oldest continuously operating university in the world. It’s still functioning today, proving that good education—and good architecture—can stand the test of time.

·        Chouara Tannery, one of the oldest tanneries in the world, still uses traditional methods involving natural dyes and less-than-natural smells. We were handed mint sprigs to mask the aroma, which worked about as well as a polite cough in a perfume shop.

·        The Souks were a sensory overload of spices, textiles, and the occasional camel meat shop—complete with two camel heads hanging outside like a very specific kind of welcome mat.

Despite the bustling chaos, the Medina’s narrow streets and thick walls keep things surprisingly cool and calm. It’s like stepping into a medieval air conditioner.

We wrapped up the day with a shower and dinner at a cozy local restaurant. Then off to bed, dreaming of mosaics, minarets, and maybe just one less camel head tomorrow.

Day 8 – Fez to the Merzouga Desert

We left Fez, the ancient city of scholars and artisans, with its labyrinthine medina and occasional donkey traffic jams, and headed for Ifrane—Morocco’s answer to Switzerland, if Switzerland had fewer ski lifts and more lions carved in stone.

Ifrane was built by the French in the 1930s as a cool-weather retreat. The architecture is all steep roofs and chalet charm, which feels mildly surreal in North Africa. We stopped for coffee near a giant stone lion, which looked like it had wandered off from Narnia and retired in Morocco. The ski runs were visible but, let’s just say, they wouldn’t give the Alps any sleepless nights.

Next stop: Azrou and its cedar forests, home to the Barbary macaques. These monkeys are wild, cheeky, and have no concept of personal space. One leapt onto my shoulder like it was auditioning for a pirate movie, then bounced onto Katie’s head. We were less enchanted than we had expected, though the baby monkeys were undeniably adorable. Still, we left with our dignity mostly intact.

Lunch was in Midelt, a town known for apples and minerals, nestled between the Middle and High Atlas Mountains, then we climbed through the Taighomt Pass, winding through rocky terrain that looked like it had been designed by a particularly dramatic geologist. The landscape shifted from scrubby plains to cedar forests, then to jagged mountains and finally to the golden sands of the Ziz Valley, where we paused to admire a lake that seemed to have wandered in by mistake and a series of lush oases that looked like they’d been Photoshopped into the desert.

As we approached Merzouga, gateway to the Sahara, we stopped to try on traditional Berber attire. Katie looked regal; I looked like I’d lost a bet. Still, it was all part of the experience. We arrived at 5pm for a short 4WD jaunt over rocky terrain to meet our camels. Then came a 1.5-hour trek over the towering dunes of Erg Chebbi, some of them up to 150 metres high. Our camp was a circle of luxurious tents around a central fire pit, with lantern-lit paths that made it feel like a desert fairy tale. Dinner was a traditional Moroccan banquet—tagine again, but delicious as ever. The night ended with music, dancing, and a lively and rhythmic Berber performance. Midnight came, and we collapsed into our tents.

Day 9 – Merzouga to Todra Gorge to Boumalne Dades

We had the option to drive out of the desert by 4WD, but Katie had bonded with the camels, so we rode out the old-fashioned way. Our camel guide had slept next to the camels waiting to take us back. The morning was filled with the soft groans of camels and a sunrise that looked like it had been painted in warm tones.

We made a brief stop in Rissani, once the capital of the ancient kingdom of Sijilmassa, a major trading post on the trans-Saharan caravan routes. Today, it’s known for its bustling markets selling spices that smell like adventure and taste like regret if you’re not careful. Katie couldn’t resist the enticing smells and immediately bought some.

Next, we visited a fossil museum. The region is rich in prehistoric treasures, especially trilobites and ammonites. I fell in love with a polished piece about 1m tall, but at AUD$5,800, it was either that or our trip to Tasmania at Christmas. We admired the fossils and watched how they’re extracted from the rock—equal parts science and sorcery.

Then came the ancient underground irrigation canals, built in the 14th century to bring water from the Atlas Mountains to the desert villages. These qanats are marvels of engineering, though the one we visited looked like a great place to meet your doom if water ever returned. Still, fascinating stuff. The tunnels were 14km long and about 10m underground with vertical shafts every 20m for cleaning and water extraction.

We moved on to Tinghir and the Todra Gorge, where the river has carved a dramatic canyon through the mountains. Towering cliffs, cool water, and a sense of awe made it a highlight. The gorge is popular with rock climbers, though we stuck to walking and admiring.

Finally, we entered the Dades Valley, a wide desert plain flanked by mountains. Our driver promised a village ahead, which seemed unlikely given the vast emptiness. But then, over a small rise, like a mirage, an oasis appeared—lush, green, and improbably real. Our hotel was perched above it, complete with a pool that felt like the ultimate reward, and a restaurant that served Moroccan specialities with a fine dining rather than a traditional approach. It all felt very luxurious. We swam, dined, and collapsed into bed. A literal oasis in the middle of our trip as well as the middle of nowhere.

Day 10 – Boulmane Dades to Ouarzazate to Ait BenHaddou to Marrakesh

Another early start and we quickly left behind the arid plains of Boulmane Dades, heading toward the semi-lush mountain terrain that looked like it had just remembered how to photosynthesise.

Our first stop was the Valley of Roses, nestled in the Skoura Oasis. This place bursts into bloom during April and May with a rose festival that would make the Chelsea Flower Show blush. We were a few months late, but the valley still smelled faintly of romance and sunscreen. Historically, the oasis was a stop for caravans crossing the desert, and today it’s a fragrant reminder that nature occasionally likes to show off.

Next up was Ouarzazate, a town whose name sounds like a sneeze but is actually the Hollywood of Morocco. Before we got starstruck, we explored the Taourirt Kasbah—a traditional Moroccan fortress that once housed the powerful Glaoui family. It’s now a market where you can buy spices, rugs, and possibly a camel if you haggle hard enough. They also host a weekly donkey market, which we tragically missed. I’m still grieving.

Then came Atlas Studios, where the desert moonlights as ancient Egypt and medieval China. The Gladiator movies I and II were filmed here, along with scenes from Game of Thrones and many others. We wandered through sets that looked astonishingly real until you tapped them and realised they were made of papier-mâché and hope. It’s impressive what Hollywood can do with timber and a bit of paint.

Our next stop was Ait BenHaddou, a ksar (fortified village) that’s been charming UNESCO since 1987. It’s a maze of earthen buildings stacked like Lego bricks on a hillside. The top was under repair, and donkeys were hauling rocks like seasoned construction workers. This place has starred in more films than Meryl Streep, including Lawrence of Arabia and The Mummy. It’s dusty, dramatic, and utterly delightful.

Next, it was time to cross the High Atlas Mountains, peaking at a breezy 2260 metres. The landscape was all rocky gorges and dramatic cliffs, like nature’s version of a mood swing. The 2023 earthquake had left its mark—landslides had carved up the road, and we navigated some temporary diversions that felt like they were designed by someone with a grudge against civil engineering.

We finally rolled into Marrakesh around 6pm – dusty, weary, and slightly traumatised by the mountain roads. Our tour was over, and Katie had splurged on a hotel that looked like it had been plucked from a Bond film. Baths were drawn, travel aches were soaked away, and cocktails were consumed on a rooftop bar with views that made you forget how much your knees hurt. At 8pm, the call to prayer echoed hauntingly across the city, with dozens of mosques chiming in like a spiritual symphony. We had another relatively early night.

Day 11 – Marrakesh

After several non-stop days of travel, we decided to take it easy. We only walked a few kilometres, dodged a few cobras, and watched our credit card cry softly in a gift shop.

Our day began at the Jardin Majorelle, a beautiful botanical garden. Originally created in 1923 by French Orientalist painter Jacques Majorelle, the garden was his life’s work—a lush oasis filled with exotic plants and a Cubist villa designed by Paul Sinoir. Majorelle even invented his own shade of blue—bleu Majorelle—which is now splashed liberally across the garden like a Smurf’s dream.

In the 1980s, fashion icon Yves Saint Laurent and his partner Pierre Bergé rescued the garden from neglect, restoring it to its former glory. Today, it’s home to the Berber Museum and the Yves Saint Laurent Museum, as well as a gift shop where Katie, unsupervised, made several bold financial decisions. Let’s just say the local economy is grateful.

Next, we ventured to Jemaa el-Fnaa, the beating heart of Marrakesh’s medina. Established in the 11th century by the Almoravid dynasty, this square has seen everything from public executions (cheerful!) to UNESCO recognition as a Masterpiece of Oral and Intangible Heritage. Today, it’s a sensory overload of market stalls, performers, and—because apparently someone thought this was a good idea an enormous number of snake charmers with cobras. We observed from a safe distance!

An afternoon at the hotel pool was in order, and in the evening, we ascended to the El-Fenn rooftop bar - originally a derelict riad discovered in 2002 by Vanessa Branson (yes, Richard’s sister). El-Fenn has evolved into a sprawling labyrinth of 13 interconnected riads, 41 rooms, and a rooftop worthy of a Vogue photoshoot. We sipped cocktails, nibbled tapas, and tried not to look too impressed by the decor. The theme was red and white with an abundance of crimson sofas. Katie was wearing a dress in the exact same shade of red and was so well camouflaged that I kept losing her.

Throughout our Moroccan travels, I was struck by the sheer number of ruined houses and forts dotting the landscape. Many date back to the Almoravid and Almohad periods, when Marrakesh was the imperial capital and everyone was very busy building walls, gates, and towers to keep out invaders. These rammed earth structures have aged with a certain rustic charm—like architectural cheese.

Also, speed cameras. So many speed cameras. We counted over 20 in a single day, and every day was the same. It’s unclear whether they’re for safety or simply a creative fundraising effort for the upcoming 2030 World Cup stadium. Either way, our driver drove like a saint.

Morocco really was the best adventure. Highly recommended for food, history, camels, culture, architecture, exciting driving, and the opportunity to eat your body weight in olives.

Cheers from Derek, Katie, Matt, Jessie, Molly & Pippa