Madness In Marrakech: Morocco Part 1

In The Beginning

Years ago we planned to visit Morocco and hike North Africa’s highest mountain, Mt Toubkhal. At the time however it didn’t come together because the dates, time off work and finances didn’t align. We also heard the news two tourists camping near Toubkhal had been murdered, one beheaded and of course it didn’t seem a wise time to visit considering the possible threat. Moroccan authorities labelled this as a terrorist act due to the evidence and the three killers were sentenced to death. I can imagine this had a incredibly negative impact on tourism and the locals for quite some time it’s important that I point out these sort of events are extremely rare however you can likely understand why we didn’t feel it wise to visit the exact area where this happened and very soon after. Instead we had a few beers and booked to visit Transylvania and the Carpathian mountains which turned out epic. You can read about that in the blogs about Varful Turnu – Tower Peak, Running Up Mount Tampa, and Seven Ladders Canyon

Cooking Up An Adventure

Eventually the idea of attempting a Morocco trip returned and after lots of smaller discussions myself Rob and Andy find ourselves sat in Andy’s kitchen. We have an assortment of laptops and beer with us, which always helps to fuel adventure planning. The plan is to hike up Toubkhal and if that doesn’t kill us, head to the Sahara desert. We are barely through a second beer each by the time our flights and a stay in a Marrakech Riad are booked. What’s a Riad you ask? Well the word itself is Arabic for garden and it’s essentially a large house or building with a central courtyard surrounded by rooms. We have booked the Riad Nouhal as it looks fairly nice, it’s a reasonable price and we are only going to be there a few nights of the trip “what could go wrong with that?” we ask ourselves, in a moment that turns out to be a bit of foreshadowing. All that’s left to do now is get a guide and the trips to Toubkhal and the Sahara booked. There’s only one catch and that’s we could all only get the same time off for this, in July which is usually Morocco’s hottest month. “At least it’ll give us the full experience of the Sahara though!” I tell the guys.

A Guide Recommendation

I’m working at a hiking and outdoor business again however I’m sure I wouldn’t be heading to Morocco now if I was still at the previous job. Today while I’m fitting boots for a customer fo his upcoming trip he asks if I’m heading out on any adventures myself, I tell him we are heading to Morocco soon and it just so happens that this chap has been there a number of times. He recommends a guide he’s used a few times before called Mohamed, and I love a personal recommendation so I get the guides details from him. Some of the less adventurous readers readers of this article may be thinking at this point “So you are going to go to a country you have never been to before into more than one dangerous environment probably with a random guide recommended by a guy you just met?” well yes in a nutshell it’s looking like that’s exactly what we are going to do! And look in a way I feel like this makes the whole thing more of an adventure however I have a better reasoning for this for you. We could go with an adventure tour operator of which there are many, however for starters these companies are usually quite expensive and also you have to consider how much of your money is actually going to the locals. If you think I’m wrong please drop your thoughts into the comments on the article, however I’d bet that it’s not much. Hiring a guide directly I’d expect most of our money goes to the guide and secondarily to the local economy instead of into the hands of international companies. In principle this sounds like a great idea and also a good thing so lets hope he doesn’t abandon us on a mountain! (Spoiler: he and the other guide turn out to be a great choice)

The Human Pincushion And Final Itinerary

A few days later I’m heading down to the GP surgery for my travel injections and in my head I can imagine the Erg Chebbi dunes rising over the houses, and course I have quite a vivid imagination. The only real comparison I think here has with Merzhouga (on the edge of the desert) at the moment is that it’s really hot, however in the month in the actual Saraha I’ll discover a new definition of what is ‘hot’. The trip is getting closer now and I’m pretty excited about it so that should lessen the annoyance of being stabbed multiple times and leaving the surgery feeling like an overused voodoo doll.

Days after this while me and Andy are hiking over the Malvern Hills I fire over a brief idea to Mohamed our guide of what we are planning to do and in what order. He comes back to me rapidly with a better plan based on his experience, the distance between the areas we want to visit and the general logistics of the trip. Our schedule still turns out really hectic however and as usual we haven’t actually factored in many rest days, as someone somewhere said once though ‘you can rest when you die’. Considering some of the activities me and the guys do for fun this could be sooner than later. Luckily I’ve got us insurance that’s so comprehensive it even covers getting battered by a camel. I’ve let Mohamed know we are all experienced outdoor adventurers and you should tell your guides things like this – as a trainee ML myself I know that your level of experience will effect how the guide plans.

• Day 1: Marrakech
• Day 2: From Marrakech to Imlil then to Toubkhal base camp
• Day 3: Toubkhal Summit – then back to Imlil to rest
• Day 4: Imlil to Dades
• Day5: Dades to Merzouga – Sahara Camp
• Day 6: Sahara to Merzhouga to Marrakech
• Day 7: Marrakech then home.

Drowning In Myself

The days creep closer to us shipping out to Morocco and we are all getting used to drinking 3-4 litres of water a day to prepare for altitude. It’s going to be very hot where we are going as well so getting into the habit of drinking lots of water is wise and to stop us diluting the sodium in our blood we add hydration supplements too. Having had severe altitude sickness before I’m doing all I can to reduce the chance of it happening again, even if these means I’m going to the toilet so much it’s like I’ve spung a leak. There will be an upcoming article on the blog about the effects of altitude so keep an eye out for that!

Hotter Than Satan’s Chilli / Bring The Pain

Around two weeks before we are due to fly to Morocco the UK and the Med countries, of which Morocco is one get hit by a heat wave. In the UK this is the kind of heat that I’ve only experienced a few times in my life and I start to keep an eye on the weather where we are headed in order to be prepared. Right now it’s Sunday and even though it’s really hot I’m sat here drinking tea and fulfilling the UK stereotype, waiting for Andy to arrive so we can head out for another long distance training hike. Neither of us have slept its over thirty degrees in the West Midlands but at this stage it’s going to be great training and conditioning for the Sahara . Little do I know just how brutal that will actually be but you can find out from me in a later blog. If going for long distance training hikes wasn’t enough I’m having to come off opiate painkillers that I’ve been having for my knee which I’m slowly repairing after putting arthritis in remission. You may wonder why exactly I’ve decided this pain raw and unfiltered, the answer to that is that these painkillers are not just ruining my fitness performance and they have been shown to cause hypoxia at altitude, a less than fun condition where not enough oxygen reaches your body tissues. Kicking these means I have terrible pain and sleep for weeks before we leave, I do make this quickly manageable through some determination, physio therapy and just in time for this adventure.

Pack It In

Flying Metal Tube Full Of People

I’m up early the day we are flying out as my pre travel nerves tell me I should check everything again before I leave. My alarm goes of and I talk to it like an insane person telling it I hate it while wondering how this what Id describe last night as a ‘soothing oboe melody’ phone alarm now fills me with some sort of basic primate rage. Because of of my weird anxiety rituals I have set the same alarm sound at different intervals about five times, just in case I don’t get up even though I always do. I do my kit check again while drinking enough tea and coffee to fill a boating lake in an attempt to function as a human being and order a cab from bolt. While I’m waiting for this despite all of my preparation I suddenly realise I’ve left my hiking boots in my car boot I’ve bough specifically for trekking up Jebel Toubkal. The cabbie pulls up and I put my bag in his boot when he spots my GoPro sticking out of a pocket. As we drive off he asks if I’m ‘one of those YouTube blokes’ and I explain I’m more of an adventure travel and extreme sports writer. He asks about the sort of things me and my mates do and when I tell him he declares that it’s “like something out of mission impossible!” before going on to before telling me about the one friend he has who did some similar things. Most people have that one ‘crazy adventurous friend in fact I’m probably ten of them. When we get to the airport I find Rob and have to get myself another coffee in this case one I’ve never heard of to recharge my limited social battery from a barista with an almost surgical customer service smile. It’s a good act but I can see they are dying inside, they probably have a degree in physics or something and instead they are serving people like me coffee with stupid names. Andy turns up and we spend ten frantic minutes pissing about with the weight machine and swapping stuff between bags to get the hold bag the right weight and it still comes in a kilogram over. Somehow we get through with it as oversized and the guy clearly doesn’t get paid enough to bother weighing it so just moments later we are sat in the pub getting the traditional English ‘ritual pre flight pint’ though I save everyone on Facebook the pictures of our drinks they know what beer looks like. Soon after that we find ourselves being shot down the tarmac and into the sky in the sweaty tube of humans we call a commercial flight, and I relax a bit as I see Birmingham looking like a model village below and behind us which is usually the best view of the place before it vanishes from view to be replaced with the sun above the clouds.

Into Marrakech

Hours later we begin the approach for landing in Marrakech, the pilot informs us it is a pretty crispy 38 degrees (Celsius) below and just looking out of the the window onto the dusty looking landscape below gives me dry mouth. In the distance the silhouettes of the Atlas Mountains rise out the the haze in the waning light of the evening sun, waiting.

Touching down in Menara airport we grab our bags and head for the border gates an I stand wondering at just what the dudes actually checking hear the stamp being used about thirty times and wonder if I’m on the Interpol list or something. As soon as he finally lets me pass through another guard comes quickly towards me and points at my GoPro I’d forgotten to put in the bag instead of the front holder. He asks very seriously if it’s recording and I show him it’s not. He seems happy with that and with a sigh of relief I put it IN the bag. I’ll have to remember to avoid that happening in future! We regroup and when we finally exit the airport opening the front door to the outside is like opening the oven door to check on a pizza. When we locate our taxi driver he shakes our hands and then we head over to his car. It’s so hot out here I’m half expecting the soles of my shoes to melt onto the tarmac. Getting into the car I note that he’s got good air conditioning which is a relief.

Wacky Races

We drive off in the direction of the Kasbah area of the city and I notice most people on the road are using scooters, the majority with things haphazardly strapped to them like crates of bananas, rugs, elderly parents, and in a few cases the rest of their family. Helmets seem rare and everyone is riding like they have a death wish, a taste of things to come later in our trip. Later I find out that here scooters under 49cc don’t require a drivers license and it’s pretty clear that most using them haven’t learned how to drive them properly. Even those who do take a driving test here don’t go through the sort of rigorous testing we have in the UK which is very apparent considering the amount of people I see cutting in front of each other, indicating the opposite direction to the way they are going or not at all and many other scary road habits. To put in perspective the driving situation, in Morocco in 2024 had over 4,000 fatalities on the roads with a population of approx 38.4 million residents. In comparison that’s more than double of the UK the same year which suffered 1,633 with approx 68.35 million. All this said should I return I still wouldn’t even be slightly tempted to rent a car or scooter!

Molestation Accommodation

Having survived our first time on the roads of Marrakech our driver drops us on the Rue De Kasbah close to our Riad and points up the side street telling us that’s where we are going. We thank him and he asks if we need a transfer back to the airport when we are leaving. He leaves me a card though I don’t plan to use him again without a proper booking, I’d booked in advance this time so there’s a record of where we are with and who with and that’s just common sense for personal safety reasons. We walk up the narrow streets and we can’t see a sign for the Riad which isn’t very useful. Kids are playing in the dusty cobbled almost allyway of a street and a small girl on a bike notices us and asks ‘riad nouhal?’ and we nod and she starts ringing the bell for us like it owes her money. While this is going on I feel something slap off the back of my calf and turning round I see a smaller child who I assume is her brother standing behind me repeatedly hitting the back of my leg with an empty coke bottle. It doesn’t hurt it’s just incredibly annoying, however I’m pretending I don’t notice. As much as I want to tell the little dickhead to get lost it’s not worth getting into an argument with the locals. After what feels like forever the wooden door behind the locked metal gate of the building opens to a less than friendly face who is either the person on duty or the owner of the Riad. We are told to come in and stepping into the Riad I gratefully close the door to the street behind me. He gets us to wait while he heads to get something to book us in and when he finally re-appears he hasn’t got a clue how long we are staying for, there’s no welcome to the Riad he just jumps straight into telling us we need to pay the city tax. As he doesn’t explain this well or in a friendly way we pay this with some apprehension as we already distrust him. Later we look it up and this IS a thing in Morocco yet wether or not what he charges actually reaches it’s destination is open to speculation. He comes back with our keys and jumps straight into a speech about if we need anything not to talk to anybody on the street (which in Marrakech is impossible) and just get things from him. This doesn’t appear to be friendly advice and is super suspicious, me Rob and Andy look at each other with narrowed eyes, all thinking the same that we can’t trust this guy. To give him the benefit of the doubt and test the water we let him keep what’s quite a lot of change from us paying the city tax which is at least 75DH (about £6.25) to get us some water. And we don’t know how much water costs yet – it turns out to be only about 5DH for 1.5l. We never see this water appear at any point of our trip. All while this guy is ripping us off my phone dings several times with WhatsApp messages from the taxi driver who dropped us off offering to take us on tours. This instant harassment doesn’t really bode well considering we have been here maybe just over an hour now. We decide to get our stuff into our rooms and prepare to go out and explore Marrakech for the evening. Maybe things will improve?

Sensory Overload And Human Traffic

Leaving the riad we head in the direction of the main square, the Jemaa el-Fnaa the name believed to mean cheerfully the ‘assembly of the dead’. A possible reference to the public executions that took place here not long after it’s construction in around 1070. Before we arrive there however we battle through busy streets, the air is laden with the smells of spices, cooking, incense petrol and unfortunately in places the strong ammonia smell of piss. The air hums with voices in Moroccan Arabic (Darija), Berber Amazigh, French, many other languages and the constant buzz of scooters with annoying beepy horns. The most anxiety causing part of walking the Marrakech streets is the scooter riders, riding straight through crowd packed streets they can barely fit down, some way too fast. You have to keep a constant ear and eye out for them and coupled with everything else after just getting off a flight it’s totally sensory overload. And it gets very busy here at night because not only has it been 38 degrees Celsius here all day but also many business’s close from between 2pm until 5pm so there’s almost like a ‘Moroccan siesta’ if you like. In fact the streets remind me of late night in Northern Spain though much more hectic. We explore the area looking for something to eat quickly deciding not to eat from the street food stalls that line the narrow passageways around and approaching the square. Some traveller reading this maybe would give this food a try though as I’m seeing no food hygiene here I’m not even considering it. In places the sheep heads covered in flies that look back at me with empty eye sockets give support to why I’m not feeling that food. Getting a stomach issue or illness would ruin my chances of getting to the summit of Toubkal so it’s a hard pass for me and the guys.

Jemaa el-Fnaa

It’s hectic in the main square also there’s space to move a bit more here however. There’s a few tuk-tuks scattered around, stalls selling freshly squeezed fruit juices which are like carbon copies of each other, many small stalls selling cooked food and stands selling tagines in every size you can think of even down to the uselessly small. Street performers are playing music and showing off their acrobatics and small boys are throwing those annoying spinning flashing light things into the air hoping to sell them to one of the many tourists. I read that you can also see poets here, have your fortune read, have henna tattoos, buy traditional medicine and much more. Rooftop restaurants look down into the square which seems to be busy no matter what time of day it is. It’s a interesting place that’s worth seeing if you are in the area and tends to be where most people seem to gravitate to especially in the evening. By this stage we are getting way too hungry to keep exploring so we head out of the square and backtrack to a restaurant we saw on the way in. called Dabachi Chez Cherif that has a load of TripAdvisor signs on it so it seems like a safe bet. And it absolutely is – we all have the same thing some meat kebabs that are extremely tasty. Though the waiter does seem pretty confused by us ordering a litre and a half of water each. There’s a waiter here who totally looks like a Moroccan version of Kanye West I’m already calling Kanye Marrakech, I will remember the place more for the food however.

The Most Expensive Beer In Marrakech

After dinner we start looking for somewhere we can have a cold beer, after all today is the last day we can drink alcohol or caffeine due to us soon being about to experience the very high altitude of Jebel Toubkal. Being in a majority Islamic country finding a beer turns out to be not very surprisingly difficult. You can get beer wine and spirits usually only in some hotels and restaurants so we end up walking around for about half an hour with no luck and I’m so fed up with being harassed by people trying to sell me things I almost totally ignore the guy who’s shouting “excuse me my friend you want cold beer?” I get most of the way down the street before it filters into my brain and I turn round walk back and check that’s what he said. The guy leads me Andy and Rob to a hotel called the “Grand Hotel Tazi” and it has a rooftop garden. When we are sat down above the bustling street below we finally get the opportunity to relax. And we do until we get handed a bill by the waiter that is about 200dh higher than it should be. Andy is paying for this one but he and the rest of us are so tired we let it slide, we are already tired of being used like ATM’s and we just want to get back to the Riad.

Molestation Accommodation Part Two

We get back to our Riad and head to the roof garden for some peace, though this is not be be because the guy running the place and his friend are here. We are just trying to relax when the guy pesters us yet again telling us to get supplies from him, not to speak to anybody else and to let him guide us around Marrakech tomorrow. He offers to get us beer and Rob reluctantly agrees and hands over some cash to him. He tells us he will take a moped into the city, which is fair enough as it’s quicker, we are aware that we know one place that’s about ten minutes away walking, we’ve just been there and based on that we expect the guy will be back pretty soon, he isn’t however in fact we don’t see him for about an hour! He then proceeds to ask Rob for another 100dh for a ‘taxi’ he tells us he had to take which is clearly total bullshit. Understandably Rob’s pretty annoyed with this and tells the dude that he can keep the money for the water that he never brought us but he isn’t going to give him any more. We are all done trusting him at this point but he still clearly still thinks we are idiot foreigners to be taken advantage of as later he actually has the cheek to come back to us and start harassing us AGAIN. He keeps banging on about all the various oils he can get at good prices like we are a bunch of invading Americans. My facial expression at this point probably says more than words will and when he finally does us the honour of f*cking off I suggest to the guys that we get up tomorrow and get breakfast somewhere instead of this Riad, because I’ve had enough of this already. We do have breakfast included with our stay but I’d rather spend more money to get away from the dickhead. The attitude and actions of the guy running this place, trying to scam tourists in a place they are meant to be able to relax is bang out of order in fact the events of our first day have wound me up so much I have trouble sleeping because what if our experience in Morocco is like this all the way though? Luckily the trip does get way better later and we are only using this place as a base, we wont be here for most of the rest of the week.

Not Quite Rocking The Kasbah

The next day I wake from a dream about birds to the sound of birds singing that’s coming from very close by almost like it’s in the room, being as I’ve just woken up this is super confusing and I wonder if for maybe some reason I’ve forgotten setting a phone alarm last night that sounds like having a basket of starlings thrown at you. As I wake up a bit more and try and find out where it’s coming from it turns out there’s in entire family of birds nesting in the broken light fitting above my door outside. The little birds are bringing their chicks food and every time they vanish into the lamp fitting it rocks with a chorus of hungry little cheeps. As I watch this I note I fell asleep wearing my money belt out of mild paranoia last night, though considering yesterdays event’s it’s not without reason. As I slowly wake up a bit more I hope that today will be better than yesterday was and I step out of my room being watched by the bird parents standing on the banister of the balcony area looking at me like ‘what are you doing in our house?’ both giving me what I’m thinking is the bird version of an inquisitive look. I go and knock on Andy and Rob’s doors we all get ready and then do a quick check to see if our ‘host’ is around and quickly nip out of the Riad door and onto the street before he has a chance to appear.

We are heading for Zeitoun Cafe for some food which is a place we spotted last night which looked really good. I notice on the way how tidy the street is now, though last night it was a little messy it’s like everyone in the Kasbah has been out this morning sweeping. When we get to the Cafe we get a really warm welcome from the greeters and ask to sit upstairs and the place is really nice inside. Me Andy and Rob make ourselves comfortable on the cozy sofas at the back of the terrace and get order some food and tea. I decide I want to try some traditional Msemmen which are a square semolina flatbread and some Beghrir which are a kind of spongy north African pancake which look sort of like a giant flat crumpet. These come with honey and olive oil, I add some soft cheese as well to bulk it up. It’s basic but it is really tasty and with a hot coffee and a freshly squeezed orange juice it’s just what I need.

Me and the guys stay at Zeitoun for quite a while because it’s really comfortable here there’s a great view and there’s even water misters on the roof to keep you cool as the day gets hotter. I don’t usually promote businesses on the blog but this place really sets us up for the day and we all leave in a much better mood than we were in yesterday.

The Art Of Misdirection

After breakfast we decide to go out again and explore and barely even get that far off the beaten track before we get targeted for another scam. As we are walking down a quieter street a local shouts to us that we are going ‘the wrong way’ which is interesting being as he doesn’t actually know where we are heading to begin with. We think he’s left us alone but when we are almost down the end of the street he suddenly follows us and starts asking us questions about where we are from and attempting to direct us. When we are about to exit the maze of streets he turns to Rob and asks ‘you have little present for me?’ and Rob looks as if he’s going to gift him a slap because not only did we not ask for anything but he’s done nothing really but follow us. And of course because of that we give him what it’s worth which is nothing at all. Before we headed out we did read in many places there’s loads of scams here and you will be constantly harassed for money but you don’t realise until you get here just how constant and aggressive this is. It is of course because Morocco is what the more PC would call a developing country however the constant aggressive scamming, begging and harassment makes you really uncomfortable so this really isn’t the place for you if you are a less confident traveller. We are relieved to finally get away from our fake tour guide and head for the Souks, where we see some cool shops but we don’t buy anything because surprise surprised we are still being harassed. This is a shame really because there is actually some cool stuff in the Berber markets if you want some souvenirs, and if they just gave us a second to browse what they are selling we might actually buy something. There are the ever present shops selling cheap touristy souvenirs but there’s also African musical instruments, art like paintings, wood and stone carvings, fossils and crystals (some are real some clearly are not) and one place that just seems to keep loads of old cameras including random soviet era ones. There’s also places selling food, spices, traditional medicine, rugs lanterns and much much more. Deeper into this colourful maze that looks like something out of an Indiana Jones film Andy takes a look at crat laden totally with tagines for sale. and immediately gets asked if he wants to buy weed instead of a tagine. None of us are interested and in fact there’s known scams here where guys like the dude offering work with police officers who turn up and threaten your arrest in order to extort money from you. And I’m not judging if you smoke each to their own just do yourself a favour though and if you do enjoy weed and one of these guys approaches you here get away from them as fast as you can. Even though Morocco is very well known for illegal cannabis farming that doesn’t mean they wont fine you or put you in prison for attempting to buy it. We get out of there quickly and later we get asked if we want weed far more than we get asked if we want Alcohol.

Tortoise Dispenser – Pets, Folkore And Medicine

As we are walking past a market stall selling the usual herbs and remedies I spot something I wasn’t expecting to see, a cage full of baby tortoises and lettuce. As I’m staring at this, a small boy quickly walks up to me and waves a confused looking turtle in my face and starts telling me a price. I really would love to save this cool little reptile from whatever it’s fate may be and that gets me thinking about just why these armoured reptiles are here in this market. It is in fact mainly as souvenirs for tourists, though it is incredibly difficult bring back live reptiles to many countries including in my case the UK. Unfortunately one of the most highly protected species Testudo Graeca or the ‘Spur thighed tortoise’ is favoured for use in traditional remedies even magic linked to pre Islamic belief systems. These include using the various parts of the turtle as the cure for sexual health problems, epilepsy, warts, stomach complaints and fevers. There has been a decline in their wild habitats not helped by their trade in markets such as these. In fact trade in reptiles in Morocco is quite unregulated despite laws to prevent overexploitation and hefty fines for trading the species in the highest protection category. I’m not doing a research paper on this so don’t quote me but there appears to be increased protection efforts now in 2025. We don’t explore enough to encounter any more animals however if we were staying and just exploring Marrakech I’m sure we would.

Day Three And Off To Imlil: Buzzing In More Way Than One

In our third day in Marrakech it’s finally time to leave and head to Imlil in the Atlas Mountains where the real adventure will begin. We wake early to do a final equipment check. There’s a taxi driver coming to get us at 9am so we make sure we have left nothing of value in our rooms and head out looking for some breakfast before our trip. All breathing a sigh of relief as we escape the Riad for a few days we head to the nearest place that looks open. It is open and says as much on it’s website however there’s nobody serving and we get hassled by the cafe owner across the street. Having had enough of this approach we move on rapidly our only option being a French style bakery which is absolutely full of bee’s. I nervously walk in and order six huge Pain Au Choclat for a really reasonable price, handing the money to the guy through a shifting cloud of bees like something out of the 1992 Horror Film ‘Candyman’ (one of my favourite weirdly). As I exit the bakery relieved I’ve not been stung I wonder why they don’t bother stopping the bee’s coming in which would be very easy. On further research it turns out they don’t discourage them because apparently the cakes being covered in them is in indicator of good quality.

Experiences May Vary

We are all sat on a bench in the gradually rising heat of the day, practically inhaling these pastries when our taxi driver turns up and we start the REAL adventure. We leave the streets of Marrakech and start our journey to Imlil and Jebel Toubkhal, though we will be back. I’m not sure how I feel about Marrakech to be honest it’s pretty mixed, there have been some great experiences here and some that have just pissed us all off. The foods been great, but I wouldn’t touch some of the street food with a pole several meters long, the riad could be acceptable but the person running it’s ruined it for us. The markets are a cool place to explore, and you could probably buy some cool stuff here if you wanted to but it does feel like a lot of people are trying to rip you off and that’s because a lot of them are. If you are a photographer and you like interesting places full of colour you will probably love it here and the whole place is a bit of a culture shock if you are coming from some places in Europe but it is an experience. There’s loads more stuff to explore than we have seen if you come on purely a city break however nobody seems to leave you alone so if that’s true for the whole city good luck getting a moment to take anything in. It’s important that I point out that even though some of the people we encountered in Marrakech were pretty shady, for the rest of the trip we meet some really friendly, welcoming and trustworthy locals especially our guides and the Berbers on the way to and in Imlil. For that you’ll have to read the upcoming blog ‘ Morocco Part 2: Ascent Of Jebel Toubkal’ – Subscribe below to get notified when it goes live, and thanks for reading!