MarcArrivals | 31° 36′ 25″ N, 8° 2′ 11″ W
That moment our descending plane broke through the clouds. That little bit of extra emphasis I put on my left foot as I stepped off the plane-side stairs and onto the tarmac. Holding that same foot on the ground for just a heartbeat longer than I would for my normal stride. On most other trips, these snapshots in time wouldn’t even register in the moment, much less continue to be so clearly etched into my brain 9 months later. But for this trip, it was different.
This collection of seemingly routine experiences marked the first time I saw Africa. February 24, 2024. The first time I touched Africa. My trip to Morocco was just beginning, but already I could feel that this one would be different.
I remember how I felt when I first visited Alaska — as a kid born in Iowa and raised in a small area of industrial Illinois it seemed to wild and remote and out of reach. And it was surreal in that moment to be standing in part of it. Arriving in Africa — by way of Marrakech — felt much in the same. Only Africa has always felt especially foreign, in addition to that same sense of remoteness and wildness that I associated with Alaska. This was the continent I would spend hours enraptured with as a kid, sitting in front of the TV fully engrossed with the high-stakes stories of survival on the savannah or rainforest as told by the latest episode of PBS Nature and NOVA ScienceNOW.
I’d made a career out of the zoo field, working as a zookeeper caring for African animals for several of the early years. It was always a strange dichotomy to know a land’s animals so intimately, but also have such strong feeling of alienation from the land itself. How did I end up here, touching even the smallest slice of this massive, engrossing continent? The Iowa kid in me might never truly get over it, but I knew as soon as my foot touched that tarmac at RAK — Marrakech Menara Airport — that a entire new part of the world was about to open up before me, and I sure as hell couldn’t wait to see what it would be like.
Marrakech | 31° 37′ 26″ N, 7° 59′ 3″ W
Arriving into the city was both just how I expected and entirely overwhelming at the same time. The Medina (the “old” Marrakech surrounded by a stout wall) was swarming with activity — guys on motorbikes, donkeys pulling carts, old men pushing carts, tourists, merchants trying to wave over said tourists, people just going about their business. Liz and I were in Marrakech to join up with The League of Travelers, the small-group travel outfit from Roads & Kingdoms, for part of our honeymoon trip. Our home for the first few days was the Riad Clos de Arts, located three back-alleys deep into the Medina. The Riad was 1) incredibly peaceful; 2) gorgeous; and 3) unlike any place I’ve stayed before with its open-roof courtyards, white marble, and Moroccan styling. The Italian ex-pat owners, Georgina and Massimo, were incredibly welcoming and friendly. For all the chaos of the Medina, the riad was remarkable for its serenity that was just steps away. It was easy to forget I was surrounded by a million people going about their day.
Our trip was guided by Nathan Thornburgh, one of the co-founders of Roads & Kingdoms, as well as Middle Eastern and North African culinary expert Anissa Helou, local fixer Abderrahim (Abu) Issouqine, and R&K’s Alejo Sabugo. And the thing about an R&K trip is that they make sure four main things happen during your time with them:
- Extremely authentic and intimate access to local culinary gems
- Engaging storytellers and purveyors who bring local traditions to life
- Intimate tours that enable deep connections to the surrounding world
- The type of in-country “underground” connections that you might expect from a company founded by journalists and storytellers
Our time together officially started with welcome drinks and an amazing spread of food on the rooftop of the riad. The endless bounty of food put before us was merely a hint of what would be in store for us in the week to come. I’m still not sure if it was an expression of Moroccan culture or the way a League of Travelers trip is structured, but we were unfailingly presented at every meal with far more food than a small group of humans could ever be expected to consume in a single sitting. Probably a bit of both.
Our time in Marrakech was punctuated with opportunities to visit with and learn from two amazing Marrakshi chefs — Chef Najlae el Rhazi and Chef Bana. Both chefs specialized in different traditional dishes, and offered us a chance to shop with them in the local markets for fresh ingredients before joining them in each of their personal homes for lessons on how to prepare those dishes — tagine and briwat from Chef Najlae and tanjiya from Chef Bana. While the cooking classes were highly educational and interesting, it was the opportunity to spend an extended period of time with two locals and learn about their lives that really made these experiences special for me.
In addition to our time spent under the close tutelage of Marrakshi chefs, we delved deeply into the absolutely bottomless culinary scene found all throughout Marrakech — but especially in the Medina. I felt so fortunate to achieve such a full immersion into the food, and thereby the culture, of Marrakech under the guidance of true experts such as Anissa Helou and Abdu. Anissa literally wrote the book on this region’s street food, and she was so helpful in identifying what was good and what we should avoid (pro tip from Anissa: avoid the freestanding food stalls in the center of the market, only the ones in the outer ring have proper access to water/sewer).
Plastic tables and chairs in a small outdoor food court. A passing crowd so thick and bustling that standing in a side alley to find space to eat was necessary. Sardine kefta (skewered meatballs), khobz (a small round bread loaf), merguez (lamb sausage) sandwiches and frites, boiled snails, roasted lamb. Oh, the roasted lamb. Undoubtedly the meal I look back upon most fondly from a trip absolutely bursting with amazing meals. Cooked underground in a pit oven until the skin is shatteringly crispy, the lamb is chopped and served on sheet trays for communal eating among our group. Pulling off chunks of savory, incredibly juicy meat by hand and dipping them in a mixture of salt and cumin — it’s the kind of meal that can randomly make me stare wistfully into the middle distance with just the slightest reminder of that multi-sensory experience.
Ouirgane | 31° 11′ 37″ N, 8° 3′ 9″ W
After 3 days in Marrakech, we hit the road for an ascent into the foothills of the Atlas Mountains. Our new temporary home became Olinto Mountain Resort in Ouirgane, a stunning, lush oasis filled with incredible gardens and architecture. Liz and I luxuriated in our own private townhouse with rooftop terrace and personal infinity pool off the back patio. Again, that surreal feeling of being that same kid from Iowa confused about how he ended up in a place like this.
The property’s bar was the place of my dreams — ornate carved wood, leather armchairs and couches, and a crackling fire in the hearth. There, Nathan hosted us in a workshop on how to make a proper gin and tonic. Being the simpleton I am, I had always assumed that was a pretty straightforward cocktail. After all, the name is also the recipe. Not so, I soon learned from Nathan. The addition of the right herb selection can make a night and day difference, especially if you give your herbs a proper slap before incorporating them into the cocktail to properly release their essence.
On our second day in Ouirgane, we loaded up into Land Cruisers and caravanned through the mountains to the village of Imlil, passing through Asni on the way. Imil is the last town on the way to Toubkal, the highest peak of the Atlas Mountains. The road on the was quite rough, with plenty of evidence that the area was still recovering from the earthquake of September 2023. Buildings and roads in various states of repair/disrepair. A region clearly still fighting its way back from devastation. And yet, signs of persistence, grit, and resilience in every direction.
In Imlil, our destination was the family home of Mustafa, cousin of our hero fixer Abdu. Upon arriving to the village, our Land Cruisers stopped at a bridge along the river and we walked the rest of the way. Not because the roads didn’t allow passage, but because the view was just so damn good that it deserved that level of admiration. With the village on one side of the bridge and Toubkal looming over us on the other, it was difficult to break away from that amazing scenery and head into town.
Imlil being built into a hillside, we climbed upward through the village to meet our hosts at their house. A large group of Amazigh musicians and dancers greeted us on an expansive terrace overlooking the rest of the village. As their performance took center stage, the boundless views of the mountains and the valley below us competed for our attention.
Eventually it was time for lunch preparations to get underway. We were led down to a small interior courtyard, where we witnessed the slaughter of a sheep in our honor — ultimately destined to become the centerpiece of our feast. It was a powerful and moving experience, filled with singing and attended by everyone in the house. I could feel a swell of emotion building as we led up to the slaughter — gratitude for life of the animal, joy as the local community gathered for the occasion, weightiness as I saw the life of the sheep leave its eyes and its blood drained from its body. I’m no stranger to the death of an animal, either directly at my own hand as a hunter or indirectly on my behalf, but this one carried a much stronger sense of heft to it because of the occasion and ceremony surrounding it.
We enjoyed another of those meals that, ostensibly, is intended to just be part of what you eat for the day, yet consisted of enough food to be enough to eat for several days. While we dined and relaxed, the performers continued their craft on our behalf. Ultimately, they coaxed us into joining them (some of us with varying levels of skill, but we didn’t lack for enthusiasm).
Later that evening, over drinks in the Olinto bar, we reflected on the amazing day we’d had and on how our presence as travelers aligned (or didn’t) with the recovery from the earthquake that was taking place all around us. Abdu shared the perspective that having us visit provided the village with a reason to have fun, after many difficult months since the earthquake. Indeed, I had observed that the party thrown on our behalf was attracting a lot of positive attention from the locals. We saw many people singing, dancing, recording the festivities on their phones, enjoying themselves. It was a perspective I hadn’t considered until Abdu pointed it out, and I really appreciated hearing his take on it.
Essaouria | 31° 30′ 41″ N, 9° 46′ 14″ W
Our final destination within Morocco was Essaouria, a seaside city of about 78,000 in the western part of the country on the Atlantic coast. Upon arrival, Essaouira’s stark differences from what I’d seen so far struck me immediately. It seemed that the entire city’s buildings had followed the same “dress code” — white with blue trim everywhere.
As in Marrakech, we were staying within the Medina, but just at the very edge where we could look out over the wall and into the sea, at the boutique luxury hotel Madada Mogador Essaouira. With its amazing rooftop terrace for gathering and watching an ever-reddening sun set into the rolling blue waves spread out before us, it felt befitting for our last home base of the trip.
In Essaouira, we met up with Chef Imad Fatih, owner of the local restaurant Côté Crêpes, to shop for ingredients from the morning’s catch from the local fish market. Later on, Chef Imad would prepare us an amazing lunch/feast of fish tagine and roughly 200 additional dishes (or least that’s what it seemed like). We also visited the nearby Zakaria’s Spices, Nathan’s favorite spice merchant in Morocco.
Exploration of Essaouira’s Medina made for a pleasant afternoon, including checking out the Port of Essaouira Sqala, flanked by a crenellated wall and tower from days of yore. I learned that it had been a filming set for the Game of Thrones television series, as a stand-in for the city of Astapor. Being a port, boats of endless shape and variety filled the surrounding waters.
Departures
Morocco, without a doubt, is a place unlike any other I’ve been. My first, tiniest glimpse into Africa. My first encounter with an Arab nation. The western edge of the Islamic world. The country, its people, and its food have left an indelible imprint on my life. I recognize that with my week spent in the country, I’ve merely peeked through the keyhole of what Morocco truly has to offer.
And yet, I find myself feeling deeply fortunate for having had the experience I did. Roads & Kingdoms curated a trip that I never would’ve found for myself — the access, the connections, the luxury somehow paradoxically linked with the intimate and deeply personal experiences that they facilitated. I left Morocco feeling like I’d made several new friends and had a whole new corner of the world opened up to me. It’s taken me nearly 9 months to come back to write this reflection of my trip. In that time, it’s been a trip I’ve thought about often, but struggled to describe in a way that feels as if I’m doing it justice. So perhaps it’s most appropriate to end with this quote from Roads & Kingdoms’ original investor and creative partner, Anthony Bourdain:
“It’s an irritating reality that many places and events defy description. Angkor Wat and Machu Picchu, for instance, seem to demand silence, like a love affair you can never talk about. For a while after, you fumble for words, trying vainly to assemble a private narrative, an explanation, a comfortable way to frame where you’ve been and what’s happened. In the end, you’re just happy you were there — with your eyes open — and lived to see it.”
Anthony Bourdain