Popping out to the shops... in Marrakech
Lisa Snowden tries some serious relaxation and retail therapy in Morocco
MY MUM Lydia hasn’t travelled for a while. I decided she needed spoili ng a nd t hat Morocco would be the ideal destination for a relaxing short break.
So off we went to Marrakech, where I booked us into the Mandarin Oriental a couple of miles from the famous Jemaa el-Fna marketplace and the Koutoubia Mosque.
Inside gated grounds, the hotel is surrounded by enormous landscaped gardens planted, it is fabled, with 100,000 sweetly smelling roses (and 50 varieties). The whole place looked even more elegant and impressive than I’d imagined. In the foyer, cool air calmed our prickly hot skin and the heady, exotic smell of oudh ( the dark scented tree resin described as ‘liquid gold’) filled the air.
After a glass of chilled orange juice and a chance to cool down, a golf cart drove us past fruit and olive trees and a gigantic pool to our one-bedroom villa. We pulled up outside a pair of enormous wooden doors which opened to a sight that made us both gasp.
Ther e was a long, elegant swimming pool that ran down the middle of the villa. There were shaded areas decked with sofas and daybeds. Lanterns hung around the pool, white bougainvillea tumbled down the walls and bamboo swayed in the gentle breeze: it was like a secret magical garden.
I would have been happy to sleep out there as it was the most spectacular, swanky garden I’ve ever seen, but inside there was more: a huge marble bathroom with a round bath in the centre, his and hers sinks, and our own traditional hammam (steam room).
It didn’t take us long to relax as it was so peaceful and private. In the distance came the sounds of the city: the call to prayer, birds singing and the wind rustling through the palm leaves.
We had a wonderful dinner at the hotel’s Mes’Lalla restaurant, choosing a Moroccan buffet of fish, lamb, chicken, salads and vegetables and delicious desserts out on the terrace, overlooking the gardens. As the light started to dip, twinkling candles sparkled and the scent wafting from the gardens was amazing.
Next day we relaxed in the hotel spa before our much anticipated trip to the market, a ten-minute taxi ride from the hotel. I gave Mum strict instructions not to make eye contact with the traders in the hustling, bustling Jemaa el-Fna, telling her that someone would quickly drape a snake or monkey on her shoulders and she would need to hand over £20 to get it removed.
There is nowhere that compares with the ancient medina – it’s elec- trifying. The tiny, winding alleys that surround the square are not for the claustrophobic but we loved the extraordinary sights, sounds and smells. I guided Mum through the maze and we bought argon oil, saffron and lots of other spices. We managed a bit of light-hearted haggling after we found a leather handbag for Mum and I spotted a beautiful Burmese turquoise and silver necklace. I have no idea if it is real or if I paid too much, but I love it.
Our driver, as arranged, met us in the souk afterwards to take us to the Majorelle Garden curated by Yves Saint Laurent, who used to live there. Mum’s a keen photographer and snapped away for hours.
Back at the hotel we enjoyed a last blissful supper beside the pool and under the stars, and toasted the most fantastic trip – before starting to plan our next one…