See Travel Blog

Hi guys, if we haven’t met before, my name is Simon Hull and I’m 32 and from Bangor, Northern Ireland.  I’m interested in travel and created this blog to bring a new perspective to trips abroad, and uncover the weird, wild and wonderful stories in discovering foreign cultures.  

This time I’ve come to Northern Africa and the city of Marrakesh, Morocco.  This trip has been a long time coming… in 2019, my Dad and I visited Gibraltar in southern Spain, and looking out across the Strait of Gibraltar (to Morocco) both agreed it would be cool to go there some day.

The following year, we had got as far as booking a trip here, but it was the middle of March, the world went into lockdown, flights were cancelled and that was the end of that.

Anyway, fast forward another 5 years, and we’ve finally made it.  This is also my first time in Africa, so another pretty cool moment ticked off the bucket list!

Marrakesh Menara Airport (not to be confused with the local branch of Menary’s… if there even is such a place) is pretty close to the city centre. So flying in, I managed to catch a small glimpse of the old town through the plane window.  My take on that, is that everything seems to be the same colour – a sandy, red shade, and the buildings are all packed tightly inside the city walls.  

I’ll be honest, I don’t really know much about the place, in fact I’m still having trouble remembering how to spell it.  I was sure at one point, its name had a ‘C’ in it?  No?  Or am I misremembering?  Maybe the Mandela effect has struck again!  😂 

We had an amusing moment when the plane came into land.  Why is it that as soon as the wheels touch the runway, everyone shoots out of their seats and then stands for like ten minutes until the doors open?  Well today the unstoppable force (a woman desperate to get off the plane ASAP) met an immovable object (a Scottish woman with no filter), and next thing I know, a war of words is breaking out in the aisle!  (Team Scotland in this case! 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿)

Marrakesh’s airport is very swanky and very modern.  The facade actually reminds me of Tirana, with steel cladding bedecked with hundreds of star cutouts.  You can tell they’ve spent a lot of money on the place in the last year or so.  If memory serves correctly, the FIFA World Cup is coming to Morocco in 2030, so I’m sure that had something to do with it!

Those renovations cost the guts of £100 million, and you’d think with all that money spent, they would have decent WiFi?  Not a chance – could get the thing to connect at all!  Just goes to show that you can’t put a price on good internet!

One other observation was the queue for the one ATM at the airport.  Morocco’s currency is the Dirham (MAD), and you’d be mad if you need some!  It’s a closed currency, meaning that you can’t get it anywhere outside the country!  We’ll skip the queue and try and get some money out later!

Outside the terminal, we’re met by a driver named Salah (not Mo!), who will be leaving us off at our hotel.  

Local drivers are often a great source of useless information, and on this journey, I learn that it will not rain this week (that’s a promise and a half, looking at the forecast) and that in the summer temperatures can get up to 48 degrees.  How does anyone actually live in that?

Thankfully temperature-wise it’s still winter and very pleasant.  At 18 degrees it feels like an early summer’s day back home!

There are a few near misses on the way into the city, but actually the roads seem to be not overcrowded, and quite orderly.  Italy, Vietnam or Albania this most certainly is not!  That said, there was a bit of commotion at one junction where the whole front end of a car was done in.  It looked like the car he had hit had already done a runner before the police showed up (either that, or the car that we could see had just magically done itself in!)

We’re staying in the Kenzi Rose Garden Hotel, about a 30 minute walk out from the main square in Marrakesh.  The place is pretty sweet!

We ditched our bags, splashed a bit of water over our weary faces, then set off on foot into the centre.  By this stage it’s about 7pm and we’re feeling a bit peckish, so on the lookout for somewhere to eat.

Once again, the roads seem to be quiet, and  very spacious.  There’s trees lining the roads, giving it a French Boulevard feel, and wide footpaths, separated from the trafffic by very high kerbstones (we’re talking at least three times higher than our ones back home!) Helpfully they’re painted white and red to stop you tripping over them, and we’re just a coat of blue away from this feeling like Sandy Row on the 12th July!

At the end of the road, I’m greeted with my first view of the glorious City Walls, stretching some 20 km around the Medina or old town.  Two square towers sandwiching a gap in the walls present an opportunity to enter.  The towers are both covered with dozens of holes, and it’s said these aren’t due to battle damage, but purposely left following construction in the 12th century.  Basically scaffolding holes.  Both towers kind of look like a big giant climbing wall!  

I have to say, this city is far more green than I expected.  There are parks everywhere, palm trees galore and lush grass on nearly every street corner.  We’re only 45 minutes away from the Agafay Desert!

We’re not in the mood for messing around with dinner, so settle for the first restaurant we see – La Table de la Koutobia, with a rooftop table overlooking the famous Koutobia Tower.  It’s a 77 meter tall minaret belonging to the largest mosque in the city.  You could say it’s ’mosque see!’ 😂 

Sadly non-Muslims can’t go in, so I think this will be the best view we get!

If anyone has been to Seville, and thinks this tower looks familiar, it’s because this provided inspiration for the Giralda Belltower there.  All I can remember about that one is that it has one big winding ramp to the top so some guy could ride his horse up.  Never made it up there though! 

Back to Marrakesh, and the Koutobia is the most famous and cherished symbol of the city.  I might have some more facts on it tomorrow!

The restaurant menu was pretty Moroccan (with burgers and pizzas to cater for the less sophisticated tourists!)  I opted for a tagine.  It’s basically a stew dish cooked in a clay bowl with a groovy chimney shaped lid.  The lid traps in all the steam, which condenses supposedly creating more tenderful and flavoursome meals.  I concur, it tasted great!  

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the call to prayer echoed out from the tower beside us.  They don’t ever seem to get any more pleasing on the ears.  

Morocco is almost entirely Muslim but much more nominal – you’ll find a lot less women wearing hijabs, and they seem to have completely gone completely rogue on Islamic alcohol rules – you can get it nearly anywhere.  They’ve also moved the time back an hour just for a couple of weeks, just so sunset is an hour earlier (when Muslims are allowed to break their fasts).  

After dinner, we walked to the Jemaa el-Fnaa square, past a line of idle horse carriages (and through the inevitable pungent poo smell).  We’ll save the square for tomorrow and walk on for now!

The street sellers are absolutely a different breed here.  Any sign of interest and they’re on you like a flash.  I made the mistake of looking interested in a jumper hung up on a shop front.  Next thing I know and this guy is ushering us into the adjacent barber shop, through the back and up a set of stairs.  At first, I’m pretty reluctant to go in, but my inner curiosity (and gullible nature) wins out.  Basically they’ve turned the attic of the barber shop into a makeshift clothes store.  There’s no changing room or anything, so I kind of have to try on the jumper in front of the guy and my mum.  I knew I shouldn’t have had that Biscoff Milkshake with dinner 😔. 

Anyway the jumper fits and it’s not half bad, so I decide to just buy it (if anything to bring a quick end to this very awkward social encounter).  Asking price is 220 MAD (that’s £18.33) and I push him to come down to 180 MAD (£15).  That’s a step too far and we meet somewhere in the middle.  All of that experience watching the Apprentice should have taught me to start with a much lower first offer.  I’m sure there’ll be more opportunities!