Our first day in Marrakech was left unstructured, so we wandered into the souks to see what they were all about. We browsed the shops for a bit; truthfully, as cool as much of the stuff is, there’s really only about a dozen or so types of shops, and most of them have basically the same stuff. Oddly, a good number of them randomly have baby tortoises and/or baby chameleons in cages, apparently just to draw in would-be customers, since they’re not for sale.
Anyway, we made our way to the spice market and sat down at the Café des Épices for what ended up being a nearly two-hour lunch (not the sort of Italian two-hour meal we’re accustomed to by now; our food just took forever to come out for whatever the reason). I had my first of several tajines, a traditional Moroccan stew of sorts that is oven-cooked in a ceramic vessel (also called a tajine; what are the odds, right?). The chicken was cooked really nicely, though I must admit I haven’t yet acquired a taste for Moroccan spices. My nose was also slowly coming back online after a pollen onslaught back in Rome, so my ability to interpret some of the flavors was sadly not very sharp. There was a great view of the spice market from their rooftop terrace though (rooftop terraces are a hot commodity in a city where the buildings are so densely packed).
Erin and Emi went back to the road afterwards to rest a bit, while I roamed the souks to shoot some photos and strolled into Jemaa el-Fnaa, the main square of the medina. Jemaa el-Fnaa wasn’t quite my thing in the daytime. Loads of hot food and fresh fruit stalls (that we were steering clear of, having forgotten to get up to speed on our hep-A and typhoid vaccinations in time for our trip), assorted vendors not unlike those in the souks, and tourists all around. Most notable were the various performers. The snake charmers were by far the most prominent, if only because the distinctive sound of their flutes was inescapable; it’s not really the most harmonious sound to hear on loop. Handlers wandered around with trained monkeys as well. I watched a bit from afar, but opted not to go in close for a photo, as they’d expect payment for it, and it all felt a bit exploitative.
I returned to the ladies to have dinner at the riad with a traditional live music performance. After coffee on the rooftop terrace, we retired for the night.
Day two took us first to the Museum of Photography. There were some cool old photos from the region, though we kept the visit short as we had higher priorities. Next up was Le Jardin Secret (The Secret Garden), a beautiful 19th-century garden complex tucked right in the middle of the Medina amid the bustling streets. It was a quiet refuge from the cacophony beyond its walls, and well worth the visit. We also went up the tower and had a great panoramic view of the medina.
Can we talk for a minute about Instagram travel influencers? Look, if you can make a living working for yourself, traveling to exotic places, and shilling stuff on social media, more power to you, I suppose. That said, there are few things more insufferable than visiting said exotic places, and having to watch for several minutes while some absurd-looking woman, dressed to the nines, tries out a dozen ridiculous poses in front of the thing you just traveled a great distance to see, while her sad camera caddy (a.k.a. boyfriend/husband/whatever) composes juuust the right angle to maximize her “likes.” Worse yet is the army of wannabe influencers, who are doing the same damn thing, but aren’t even making a living off of it to justify making everyone else’s experience that much less enjoyable. It may look good on camera, but it’s so bizarre to watch unfold in person. We’ve been encountering this all over Europe, but Marrakech has been the absolute epicenter of it for us so far.
From Le Jardin Secret, we did a quick search for lunch recs nearby and found ourselves at Terrasse des Épices, apparently from the same ownership as the Café des Épices. The service was much better though, and judging from the pictures on the wall, Nicolas Cage-approved. (Cage-snark aside, it was in fact pretty good).
Lunch included my first chicken pastilla, which was easily my favorite Moroccan treat. It’s a bit like baklava, only less dense, dusted with powdered sugar and/or almonds, and as you might imagine, filled with chopped chicken meat. So good.
Next up was Dar El Bacha/Confluences Museum, an early 20th-century palace that was converted to a museum just a couple years ago. We’d seen glimpses of some of the amazing architecture on display at Le Jardin Secret earlier, but this was something else. The patterns, the curves, the textures; just exquisite. I would’ve liked to spend hours there taking photos and soaking it in, but alas, we only had an hour before closing.
While Erin went to try out the hammam (sort of a Moroccan steam room/spa) in our riad, Emilia and I went for a swim in the pool. It was small, but we had it to ourselves in the evening, and it was gorgeous. Tired out from the day, we opted to stay in for dinner again and rested up for another busy day.
Day three, we set foot for the Bahia Palace, a huge 19th-century palace intended to be the greatest palace of its time. This wound up being a bit of a journey. We’d read that you should expect to get lost at least once while in the medina; it is indeed very easy to get disoriented, but downloading Google Maps for offline use definitely goes a long way to mitigating that. I’d set it to guide us there, but early on, something got reset, and I could no longer get live navigation. As such, we used the offline map, which in my error, took us the scenic route (a.k.a., the largely shadeless, industrial, considerably longer route) around the massive, walled palace complex. With the help of several helpful locals, and in spite of the “help” of the boys who told us it was closed, we eventually found our way to the entrance.
Much like Dar El Bacha, the architecture and detailing were magnificent. I enjoyed Dar El Bacha a bit more, though that may owe itself to having had Dar El Bacha practically to ourselves near closing time, and Bahia Palace being pretty busy when we arrived midday. Bahia Palace had some great stained glass windows though.
Continuing the day’s theme of not knowing where the hell we were going, we spent a good while trying to locate a lunch spot that our riad had recommended, and after 15–20 minutes of being pointed in the wrong direction (I think something was getting lost in translation), we gave up and popped into a loosely Beatles-themed restaurant.
Afterward, we finally got around to doing a bit of shopping in the souks. We had some good conversations with various vendors. I do not include the spice merchant who at Erin’s encouraging, shoved some spice blend right up against my nostril to “clear my sinuses” as I nervously eyed the decanter labeled “Ricin” on the shelf. Seemed like a nice guy, but I didn’t want to be Moroccan Heisenberg’s next victim.
Erin picked up a few items that had been requested of her, and we got ourselves a few leather poufs to bring back to Portland eventually. With our new items in tow, we popped in to Nomad, a trendy, modern Moroccan restaurant, for our last dinner there. From there, we headed to Jemaa el-Fnaa to check out the scene, as we’d been told nighttime was the time to check it out. Sure enough, it was substantially more lively, with more musicians (besides just the snake charmers, thankfully) and dancers performing (including an adorable little Moroccan boy who ran up to a dancing Emilia and started breakdancing just for fun). The food stalls were packed, and lantern vendors jazzed up the streets with their flickering wares. We stuck around for a quick dessert at the edge of the square, and called it a night.
Our last morning, we rose early to nab a quick breakfast, and catch a cab out to Jardin Majorelle, outside the Medina. Jardin Majorelle is a one-time, mid-1900’s private residence that’s been converted to a botanical garden, and features a decidedly more modern, though equally beautiful display of Moroccan design and architecture. The gardens and buildings were gorgeous, though the experience was tamped down a bit by the aforementioned Instagram hordes monopolizing the scenery.
With our visit to Jardin Majorelle complete, we checked out of our riad, caught a long drive to the Casablanca airport (it was cheaper and more convenient timing-wise than it would’ve been to fly back out of Marrakech), and set flight back to Rome to settle down in our new apartment for the very first time.
