I left Oslo on a cold and dreary December’s day. The weather matched any Norwegian’s mood, as even for us, winter can wear on the soul. I landed five hours later wide-eyed and grinning in sunny Marrakesh. Although only about 15C, the sun was blinding to my Northern eyes, and my entire face smiled, welcoming the Vitamin D.
I hurried along behind the manager of the household. He picked me up at the airport at the request of the family with whom I was staying. Putting total trust in him and his taxi-driver companion, I gave them my little suitcase and got in the car. Soon enough, we were on a chaotic highway, zigzagging and honking our way into the city. I clung to the cushions and door, trying to appear calm. We eventually stopped at the huge market square Jamaa el Fna, which was bustling with tourists and locals. Shouting came from all corners, and my eyes bolted from one booth to the next: boiled snails, woven baskets, and fresh fruit juice.
From there, with him still carrying my suitcase and me following quickly behind, the maze began. The winding streets of old Medina became narrower. After what felt like twenty left-hand turns and seven right-hand turns, I lost track of where we were, when suddenly we were there. A thick, heavy, black metal door stood in front of us, and I started to wonder if I had picked the right house manager at the airport. I was there to spend the week with a good friend and her family, but no one was home. After being shown to my room, I was told that my friends should be back shortly. I nodded slightly nervously, still suspicious that I had been too naïve at the airport. Only after I recognised my friend’s belongings, could I really breathe out and relax. It was in that moment when the beauty of the place struck me like lightning.
The family started their planning off on the right foot by renting a traditional Moroccan home, or riad, complete with its own interior courtyard with a fountain in the middle. Its rooftop lounging area provided the perfect space for sunbathing and morning tea drinking. The beauty of this place hypnotized us all. Everyone had their own ensuite bath. The head of the house was an older, plump woman who looked like she knew how to cook, and she proved to be able to do so each morning and evening. All of the meals were lavish, with three courses and countless side dishes. Breakfast consisted of yogurt, “coffee” (instant), croissants, and a heaping bowl of fruit. One morning, she served avocado smoothies, and they quickly became the main subject of my dreams. I awoke each morning secretly hoping that avocado smoothies were on the menu, rushing downstairs in anticipation.
We spent the afternoons exploring the city by visiting museums, art galleries, and cafes. We drank peppermint tea on a rooftop overlooking the city or a square whenever we could. The views were captivating!The Dar Si Said Museum was a winner for us, with modern Moroccan art alongside historic pieces and architecture. At Cafe de France we joined the hoards of tourists seeking a fulfilling lunch, and I'm sure the sunset would be beauitful there.
Sometimes the best things in life happen unexpectedly, and Earth Cafe was certainly a hidden gem. On a day of particular fatigue and extra walking, my friend and I found this little vegan cafe, and walked straight in without even looking at each other for confirmation. Our feet and minds were weary, and we desperately needed a rest and a nice cup of coffee. They had an excellent vegan menu and lattes, a rarity that we were missing. A must after a few days' travel.
When the rest of the family went back home, my friend and I were left to explore on our own. We ate dinner one night at Chez Chegrouni, bustling with life. We meandered on down to the El Badi Palace ruins, and soaked up with winter sun. We had really enjoyed this city, but our time was quickly coming to an end.
On our last day, my friend and I finally dared to taste those boiled snails. I also bought an avocado smoothie for the walk home. Travel guides will tell you what to see and what you “simply cannot miss.” The most important travel tip for Morocco, however, is to bring an open mind, and wide eyes. Use them, and you, too, will be enchanted.