Mars To Earth In Morocco

First impressions count for everything, so they say. Where Marrakech is concerned, your first impression is guaranteed to be a lasting one. Mine was delivered in parcel of absolute chaos as I first emerged from our airport transfer at the gateway to the medina in Marrakech. True to its repuation, the city’s old town is the ultimate stimulant for the senses; from the chorus of multiple moped engines, to the unfamiliar aromas of a land far from home. It was unlike anywhere else I’d ever been, and I knew straight away that mine and my partner’s week long Christmas break was going to be a very interesting one. This was confirmed as we embarked on our first walk through the famous Jemaa el-Fna main square to reach our traditional riad accommodation.

Did I just see a monkey in a kilt?! Yes, there were monkeys. And they were wearing clothes. Let’s not beat about the bush here, the Jemaa el-Fna was MENTAL. We had to dodge our way through the human obstacle course, avoiding the relentless beggars, henna tattooists and street vendors. My eyes scanned the surroundings in a slow-mo, tennis-spectator movement, watching multiple pythons thrash around at the feet of snake charmers; my heart beat matched that of the nearby drums. Safely reaching the perimeter of the square we entered the souk and weaved through dusty alleys, avoiding bags of rubbish and resident donkeys, until stopping in front of a mysterious, unmarked door. To a cry of “open sesame” (joking) the heavy door opened with a stiff moan, to reveal the most charming interior.

The Riad Yamina is a peaceful oasis, a real diamond in the rough. Contained within a calming courtyard, the intricately decorated riad is a heavenly contrast to the mayhem outside. There was no sound, sparing echoes of bird song from the orange trees, and with just 16 beds, the staff to guest ratio made for the most personal, hospitable experience. The delicious breakfasts of fresh pancakes and crepes charged us up for the days ahead, while the trays of mint tea soothed us after our wanders through the Jemaa el-Fna and the tempting, yet completely disorientating souk.

The souk is an extensive, maze-like network of market stalls in the heart of the medina. The myriad of alleyways with distracting displays of Moroccan treats and treasures, guarantee that you will become hopelessly lost, very quickly. The souk transforms a standard shopping experience into your very own edition of “I’m a Tourist… Get me Out of Here!”. They should almost come with a warning or disclaimer - ‘Point of No Return for at Least 2 Hours’ or ‘Enter at Your Own Inevitable Risk of Getting Lost’. While it was a great opportunity to scope out unusual homeware purchases, walking in circles soon lost its appeal. Thankfully we found a rooftop cafe for a mint tea fix and to find our bearings from above.

Marrakech is as exhausting as it is exciting. After three days I longed for relaxation outwith the tranquil confines of our riad, so we decided to take a wee holiday, on holiday. I’d seen the coastal city of Essaouira advertised as a day-trip destination, but we discovered that taking the local bus and booking into a 5* hotel for 2 nights would only cost £10 more per person than the organised excursion. Well that was a no brainer! Going to this seaside getaway turned out to be the best decision we made the whole trip; it was the perfect filling in our Marrakech sandwich.

Essaouira was my kinda city; fresh sea air, a quirky-nautical medina, and a refreshing dose of laid-back vibes. It was easy to see why this relatively unknown destination was popular with hippies, and even Jimi Hendrix, in the 1960s. There was a distinct hippy influence in the elaborate street art showcased on the medina walls, and in the local paintings posed on the facades of little art galleries. Seafood is a must on the coast, so I filled my belly with delicious prawn wontons and monkfish at the stunning Umia restaurant. It was also clear that shopping was high on the priority list when we returned to the hotel with argan oil, cushion covers, local art and a wall mirror. Evenings were spent taking advantage of the European-style cafe culture, especially the rooftop Taros Cafe which served sea views, live chill-out tunes and complimentary olives.

I hadn’t anticipated such a contrast between Essaouira and Marrakech. It was only a three hour drive away, yet this journey from city to sea was like returning to Earth from Mars. Walking around the old fortress walls in Essaouira, you could only get lost in the sound of the waves. We breezed around the medina unrushed, stopping for Casablanca beers, mint tea and fresh crepes. With no crowds and no noise, we had succeeded in our quest to find relaxation. Even the street vendors here were chilled-out and subtle in their approach! I loved it.

Relaxed and refreshed, I couldn’t wait to return to Marrakech and experience the opposite extreme once again. With a fresh reserve of energy, I was ready to delve back into the Marrakech medina and tip the scales from calm to crazy. We walked with confidence through the souks on our return, even if we did get slightly lost. I was self-coronated as Queen Haggler, using my fine-tuned haggling skills to secure the best of bargains, including beautiful leather boots and a pashmina scarf. We ate couscous in a cafe overlooking the Jemaa el-Fna, mesmerised by the morphing crowds of people and the steam rising from the food stalls to meet the night sky.

In our final toast to relaxation, we finished our holiday with a Moroccan hammam at the Isis Spa. Slipping off our robes in a traditional steam room, we were doused in buckets of warm water, slathered in luxurious oil and scrubbed within an inch of our lives. It had to be finished off with a one hour massage, just for good measure. Oh, and a mint tea - of course! It was an indulgent end to a fully-loaded week of contrasts and surprises; moments which ranged from moderately stressful to completely blissful. When I think of Morocco, I’ll remember the smell of fragrant oils and putrid rubbish, the sound of silence and of the morning call to prayer, the warm afternoons and the cold nights. I’ll remember my fondness for Marrakech, which came only after leaving and coming back. My second, first impression counted for everything.

 ***

Kay Gillespie is a travel and food blogger who guest writes travel articles for Small City, Big Personality. You can follow her across Perthshire, Scotland and beyond on her travels for us using the hashtag #SmallCityTourist.

• Kay flew direct to Marrakech from Glasgow with easyJet.
• She booked the Riad Yamina through airbnb.com.
• She stayed at the Atlas Essaouira Hotel & Spa in Essaouira.