MARRAKECH’S colourful comeback
Rocked by an earthquake last year, the Moroccan city is more vibrant – and welcoming – than ever
To visit Morocco, wrote the American novelist Edith Wharton, is ‘like turning the pages of some illuminated Persian manuscript, all embroidered with bright shapes and subtle lines’. And nowhere could that blend of antiquity, cultural richness and vibrancy be more apparent than in the rose-pink city of Marrakech.
Sitting 320km above the Sahara but also in the shadow of the snowcapped High Atlas mountains, it’s the perfect place to steal a little sunshine between now and spring.
We visited before the earthquake in September, which killed nearly 3,000 people and devastated several villages. The epicentre was in the mountains just 60km away. But despite some collapse of older buildings in and around the medina – the old city – its main structures remained intact and most of Marrakech is back to normal.
‘We felt some shaking, and everyone went out for a short time,’ said Mourad, at our hotel, La Maison Arabe, whom I contacted following the earthquake. ‘A few buildings fell down to the south of the medina around the Jewish quarter and at some hotels. But everything is fine now.’
Meanwhile, on our visit a few months earlier, I’m strolling through the old city and manic souk trailing after my wife, Isabel, and sister, Karen. I’d never realised it was possible to look at shoes for quite so long.
We hire a minder to lead us through the pulsating labyrinth – essential if you don’t want to spend half the day trying to work out where you are. Almost anything can be bought here – from lamps, rugs and pots to soft Moroccan leather. Close by is the city’s main square, Jemaa-el-Fnaa, with its snake charmers and monkey wranglers. Abdullah tells us the name literally means Assembly Of The Dead.
‘It’s where the people would come to watch executions,’ he says. Pointing to a smaller square, he adds, ‘There they used to trade slaves. Now they sell only baskets. This is good progress’.
Less fortunate in the earthquake was Kasbah Tamadot, Richard Branson’s boutique hotel in the High Atlas foothills. This lovingly restored and remodelled Berber fortress sustained considerable
damage and isn’t expected to reopen fully until June at the earliest.
The hotel has made Branson something of a local hero. As well as providing work, he supports the region’s health and education services. Our driver Momo, from the nomadic Tuareg people and brought up in the desert until the age of 14, approves. ‘This is how rich men should use their money but usually don’t,’ he says.
We visit Kasbah Tamadot for lunch, where our balcony table looks across a river valley to a village of flat-roofed buildings made of the pinkish clay bricks that are a hallmark of the region. The food is good, and the Moroccan vin gris is cooling.
Back at our own billet, we are greeted with mint tea and macaroons. Maison Arabe is one of the oldest and most authentic hotels inside the old walled city. The main building dates back hundreds of years and is a textbook example of a Moroccan riad, or traditional house. When the Berbers decided to settle in Marrakech they wanted a lasting reminder of their Saharan heritage and the oases that made desert life liveable. So at the centre of each riad is a roofless courtyard.
Our room comes with private roof terrace, offering a Jacuzzi, a vast sunbed and a 360-degree panorama of the city’s skyline. A quaint and effective way to see the city centre and get your bearings is by horse and carriage – if you don’t mind the rather pungent aroma.
Attractions include Yves Saint Laurent’s Jardin Majorelle, a tranquil urban garden, and the 16th-Century Saadian Tombs. There is also a busy Jewish quarter, sadly a rarity in so much of the Muslim world today.
But the abiding joy of Marrakech for us is the courtesy and good cheer of almost everyone we encounter.
Add in the deep blue skies with February/March temperatures reaching the mid-20s, and this is an ideal place to escape the winter chill.