Morocco

Before I went to Marrakesh, I was not entirely sure how I felt about it. My mum had described it as intense, the kind of place that can overwhelm you if you are not prepared. Loud, busy, full on. I carried that with me before I left, half excited and half braced, wondering if I would love it or feel completely out of my depth.

As it turns out, both things were true, and I loved it anyway.

From the moment I arrived on Thursday and checked into Riad Neve d’Antan, Marrakesh started to reveal itself slowly. The riad felt calm and tucked away, a small pocket of quiet that I quickly realised was essential. Stepping outside was a different story. The markets hit me almost immediately, especially the smells. Spices, leather, food cooking somewhere nearby, dust warmed by the sun. It was a lot, but not in a bad way. Just alive. That first day eased me in gently. Wandering through the market, then sitting down at Kasbah Andallussiya for chicken tajine and chicken pastilla felt like a proper introduction to Moroccan food. The flavours were rich and comforting, and everything tasted deeper and warmer than what I was used to. Later that evening, we went to the jazz bar at Riad Monceau. My mum had stayed there before, and being there felt like a quiet overlap between her memories and the ones I was just beginning to make.

Friday started early, very early, with a hot air balloon ride. Floating above the landscape at sunrise felt surreal, especially after the stimulation of the city. Breakfast was served afterwards, and eating slowly in the open air after such stillness felt grounding. That contrast between calm and chaos ended up being a theme throughout the trip. After a much needed nap, we had lunch in Tinsmiths Square where I tried the chef’s mixed grill. Food in Marrakesh never felt rushed. Even casual meals felt intentional, like you were meant to sit and experience them properly. Later, we visited Bahia Palace and learned how materials from it had been taken to build other structures. Walking through somewhere so beautiful while knowing parts of it were stripped away gave it a weight I had not expected. The souks that afternoon were intense in the way I had been warned about, but also fascinating. The noise, the constant movement, the narrow paths, the calls from shopkeepers coming from every direction. I bought a leather bag, a shot glass, wall art, and a ring, things that felt tied to moments rather than souvenirs bought for the sake of it. Dinner at Krepchy that evening felt relaxed, like I was beginning to find my rhythm in the city.

Saturday slowed everything down. It poured with rain, which gave Marrakesh a softer feel. After a long lie, we took a taxi to Majorelle Garden and the Berber Arts Museum. The bold blues and greens stood out even more against the grey sky, and learning about Berber culture added depth to everything I had been seeing around me. El Kemis flea market did not really click with me. It just did not have the same energy, and that was fine. Not every place needs to resonate. Walking back into the Medina later, I saw a donkey for the first time, followed shortly by a tanner man. Moments like that felt raw and unfiltered, like the city was not performing for visitors. It was simply being itself. Rooftop breakfast at Terrasse Bakchich became one of my favourite moments. Sitting above the streets, listening to the city from a distance, gave me space to breathe. Ben Youssef Palace later that day was stunning, and the Photography Museum left a real impression on me. The black and white photographs of Morocco felt powerful, almost grounding, like I was seeing the country through a quieter and more reflective lens. Tea and snacks at La Vanilla finished the day perfectly.

Sunday took us out of the city and into the Atlas Mountains. The viewpoint, visiting the argon oil cooperative run by women, trekking to a waterfall in a Berber village, and having lunch overlooking the valley all felt humbling. Being surrounded by that landscape made everything else feel smaller. That evening, the traditional Moroccan show with music and belly dancers felt celebratory, like a closing chapter to a very full experience.

By the final day, I felt comfortable simply wandering. Walking around the palace park, eating at the artisanal workshop cafe, and snacking in Jemaa el Fnaa felt familiar rather than overwhelming. The square, which might have intimidated me on the first day, now felt vibrant and exciting in a way I genuinely enjoye

Looking back, I am glad I went to Marrakesh with a bit of apprehension. It did not disappoint my expectations, it completely reshaped them. Yes, it is intense, but it is also warm, welcoming, and full of moments that stay with you. The smells in the markets, the constant soundtrack of the streets, the different tajines I tried, and the friendliness of the people softened everything I had been warned about.

Marrakesh does not ask you to be comfortable. It asks you to be present. Once I stopped bracing myself and started paying attention, I realised just how much I loved it.