February was as far as we could make it through the English winter of 2023/24.  We hadn’t emerged from our hibernation cave for weeks, Russell’s golf clubs had rusted up, and I was in danger of permanently relocating my office to our bed, where the electric blanket was in a perpetual state of ‘on’. Something had to give.

It did. We booked tickets to Morocco, the sunniest place on earth we could find in February without completely breaking the bank.

We flew into Marrakech Airport on a blissfully warm February morning, where we were met by a lovely, smiling Moroccan who drove us to our hotel – Riad l’Orangerie, in the heart of the Medina.

Riads and Medinas

Two things to know about Riads and Medinas:

A Riad is a traditional Moroccan home designed around a central courtyard which is open to the elements. The rooms, spread across several floors, face inward with no external windows, making it a cool, quiet oasis in an ocean of chaos, otherwise known as the Medina.

Once the home of wealthy merchants and traders, today Riads are now mini-hotels (ours had seven rooms), run by the kindest and most hospitable people you could meet.  At least, that’s the experience we had at Riad l’Orangerie.

Here’s our room: The Coriander Suite.

A Medina is the oldest part of the city in Morocco. In Marrakech, the Medina was founded in 1070. It’s surrounded by an ancient wall and you can only enter through one of the original city gates, called Bab. Once inside, the narrow maze-like streets are impassable for cars, which would be wonderful except for the hurly-burly of souk traders, motorbikes, bicycles, donkeys, endless juice, nougat and carpet sellers, and, of course, other tourists.

He also gave us a very useful little mud map of the Medina, circling the Riad and marking out the two-minute walk to Jemaa el-Fnaa.

“This is Jemaa el-Fnaa, the main square”, he told us. “If you get lost, ask another tourist for directions to the square. Then you will find your way back to us”

“You will get lost.” He said. “Everyone does in the Medina. We’re still looking for a couple of guests who went missing last month. But don’t worry, we’ll find you eventually.” Aziz, we discovered, had a wicked sense of humour.

So, off we set for our first foray into the streets of the Medina.

A Thrilling Sensory Overload

Once the door of the Riad clunked shut behind us, the first thing we noticed was the noise and the smells, good and bad – like the glorious orange blossom and exotic spices, mixed with the unmistakable stench from the tanneries. Then there was the intense noise and bustle around us. . . .and the colours – so many colours – and droves of people: gobsmacked tourists like us, along with yelling traders, scampering children, and the locals weaving in and out of the tiny narrow streets and alleyways.

As we got closer to the square, the bartering and banter of the street sellers intensified, as did the hand-grabbing of the henna tattooists, and the cacophony of sounds – the calls to prayer, the snake charmers’ pipes, and the beating drums.

We didn’t know which way to turn, which way to look. It was the most exhilarating sensory overload I have experienced sober.

Sadly, mere photos can’t capture the feeling. I can only show you the glorious technicolour that is Marrakech.

We had brought lots of cash and an almost empty suitcase. The Marrakech Souk in the Medina is arguably the most exciting shopping experience anyone could have and I didn’t want to limit the possibilities. But on that first afternoon, the only purchase we made was a bar of nougat.  There was just too much choice, too much to look at and we were paralysed by indecision.

Luckily, the shopping paralysis didn’t last long. By the end of our stay, my suitcase was brimming with Moroccan goodies: a tasseled bedcover, beaten-silver ornaments, jewelry, and a bevy of potions, lotions, and oils that promised to make me look and feel 20 years younger. I swear they’re working!

Getting Lost in the Medina

We spent the next ten days getting lost in the Medina. We’d set out in the morning after breakfast on the Riad rooftop terrace, with a vague idea of where we wanted to explore that day, and we’d always take a wrong turn somewhere, or follow our nose down the wrong alleyway. It didn’t matter, everything was worth seeing, and Aziz was right – we never failed to find our way back to the main square.

We visited the Secret Garden, a 16th-century riad built to display its owner’s wealth and power, with a central garden, minaret, and its own water supply, direct from the Atlas Mountains. 

We walked through the Jewish Quarter (who knew?!), with its colourful spice market and pink walls. Apparently, most of the Jews have moved to Israel, but there are still a couple of synagogues, and it’s home to the only kosher butcher in Marrakech.

We had lots of rooftop lunches (all restaurants in the Medina seem to be on rooftops); went to the Marrakech House of Photography where the photo exhibition proves that nothing much has changed in the Medina for the past couple of hundred years; and had ourselves wrapped in Berber Litham scarves by a street trader who was hoping we’d buy them. We didn’t, but the photo is priceless!

We did a walking tour one morning with our own guide, Najet. She told us about the importance of Hammams (Turkish baths) to the local community, and took us behind the scenes to meet the man who stokes the furnace all day to keep the water hot.

She pointed out traditional homes and told us how families all live together, expanding the house as new brides and babies arrived. The only people who leave the family home in the Medina are the daughters, who move into their in-law’s house.

She showed us the ‘real’ Souk (“never buy anything around the main square – it’s all imported from China”), where artisan skills are passed down from father to son. And she took us to the man who cooks everyone’s bread. It’s not that the locals don’t have ovens, it’s just a social thing to do, like taking your lamb stew to be slow-cooked in the ashes by the same man who stokes the Hammam furnace. 

And she took us to the Medersa Ben Youssef, a mid-16th-century education centre, where young boys used to be sent to study religion and philosophy – but mainly religion – before growing up and becoming Imams.

It was a magnificent building, but I couldn’t help feeling slightly chilled to the bone by the monastic-like living quarters of those poor young boys. However, it’s probably the closest I’ll ever get to the inside of a mosque, so it was an interesting experience.

“There are two religions in Morocco,'” he explained. “One is Islam, the other is work.”

An Oasis of Banter and Smiles

While there are plenty of rooftop dining experiences in the Medina, none of them was a patch on our riad, as we discovered after a couple of hits and misses. And it wasn’t just the food that made it special.

We’d come ‘home’ to Riad l’Orangerie every afternoon, exhausted from getting lost, to be greeted by one of the smiling faces of  Cyril, Omar, or Imad. They’d want to know where we’d been, what we’d done.

Just before dusk, we’d climb the stairs to the rooftop terrace where Khadija or Jamal would be laying up a few tables. They’d bring us icy cold Casablanca bières and small bowls of nuts while we enjoyed the sunset. Aound 7 pm, Aziz would show up, moving from guest to guest, greeting everyone with his radiant smile.

“Russell, my friend,” he’d declare when he got to us. There’d be lots of fist bumping and secret handshakes between them. Then the banter would start. Boys stuff mainly, but it kept Aziz and Russell happy every evening.

Khadija would bring out dinner, usually a tagine  – chicken or fish or beef. We didn’t care. They were all delicious. We’d eat, we’d drink, and we’d go to bed happy.

It was possibly the best hotel we’ve ever stayed in. It definitely had the best staff.

We crammed a lot into our ten days in Morocco. Getting lost in the Medina was a regular pleasure but we did have a couple of other adventures, like driving across the Agafay Desert, having lunch at Mohamed’s place in the Atlas Mountains, and getting my first tattoo.

You can read about those in Part II, (coming soon), which I’m calling Hot and Spicy! See you there.