I had hoped for an enjoyable and relatively uneventful two-day return drive from El Khorbat back to Marrakesh. And it would have been just that, if not for a dumb little error on my part…and some icky weather. But we’ll get to that a bit later.
Our drive from El Khorbat to Ouarzazate went exactly as planned. We knew it would be about a four-hour drive, and check-in for our place in Ouarzazate wasn’t until a bit later in the afternoon, so we lingered at the El Khorbat Ksar where we spent the previous night, checking out the museum and wandering the centuries-old earthen city.
Our Euro-African Journey (So Far...)
Finally it was time to hit the road. I did my best not hit any camels along the way as well.
Occasionally, we’ve seen road signs like this one and thought nothing of them. We’ve seen camels in the distance, but a camel crossing the road? Not in the week we’ve been driving through this valley on the edge of the Sahara.
So what do you think we saw a half-mile after snapping that photo?
A camel fixing to cross the highway.
Guess I’ll add that to the long list of things to watch out for on the road to Marrakesh.
I love how the old and new blend together in these parts. Contemporary cement houses have sprung up to fill the gaps between crumbling, 300-year-old mud ksars and kasbahs. And not a primary color in sight—just earth tones. And by earth tones, I mean every shade of red clay imaginable.
I was dreading having to repeat the tortuous urban slog between the turn-off to Dades Valley and Ait Sedrate Sahl Gharbia. It took us nearly an hour to cover the 20 miles on our last time through here.
So…I was super excited when I discovered that we could avoid all that mess this time around. However, there’s always a chance that the alternate route we were eying wasn’t a legit road (not all highways are paved or in good condition in Morocco). But we took it anyway, and were glad we did.
It added 10 miles to our journey but shaved off nearly 20 minutes in process.
We rolled into Ouarzazate around 5pm famished. All we were able to scrounge up on our way out of El Khorbat was a can of Pringles and a couple of Snickers bars. Hardly a proper lunch.
Eid isn’t for another two days, so we’re still in Ramadan. In Marrakesh, Western heathens like ourselves can usually find a meal at midday, but out here, not so much.
We knew that once we arrived in Ouarzazate (an oasis town of 80,000), we’d have better luck. But even then, it was slim pickings. After a bit of a search around the area, we stumbled into an eatery that seemed to be popular online with tourists.
The owners took one look at us and apologized. “I’m so sorry, I can only do kebabs right now.”
Kebabs? YES! We’ll take it!
We returned to our guesthouse for the night finally feeling human again.
I can’t imagine what it must feel like to do this day-in and day-out for a month, particularly for those with jobs or responsibilities that require them to exert their mind and body all day long.
I’m sure many get some sense of spiritual satisfaction from it all, but because it is required by law for all Muslims to fast in Morocco during daylight hours in the month of Ramadan, I’m sure it can be truly hellish for many people.
We’re looking forward to seeing the festivities in a couple of days when the entire country breaks the fast at sundown for the final time this year.
Our digs were nice in Ouarzazate, but we are happy with the amount of time we ended up spending here.
The boys had their own little loft in our “Tiny Home”-style guest room.
Many travelers base themselves out of Ouarzazate for day trips to Ait Benhaddou or to see some of the sights around town. We instead chose to base ourselves out of Ait Benhaddou earlier in our road trip and were very happy we did. This was merely a quick stop-over to break up the trip back.
After unpacking the necessities for our short stay, Lori and I started to discuss our plans for tomorrow. I was looking forward to another relaxing and enjoyable day on the road—the final day of our road trip that would end with us rolling into Marrakesh and turning in the rental car.
But when I pulled out the rental car paperwork to double check the drop-off instructions, something caught my eye: For the drop-off time, I had accidentally selected 5am instead of 5pm from the dropdown menu on the online form.
My initial thought was, no big deal. They’ve got to know that I meant 5pm. 5am would just be ludicrous. It’s a local company and this is Morocco. I’m sure they’re flexible.
I texted our point person at the company, but it turned out there wasn’t a lot of leeway. Because of the error, the car had been reserved by another client at 1pm. And they needed the car back to the office by noon to clean it.
It was just under a four hour drive back to Marrakesh in ideal weather and road conditions. Stormy weather was forecast for much of the day, especially for the 7,400-foot elevation Tizi n’Tichka mountain pass. There was even a chance of road closures due to landslides.
So much for a leisurely morning in Ouarzazate. Boys, we’re hitting the road early tomorrow!
The next morning, storm clouds were already gathering on our way out of town.
The main highway between Marrakesh and the Sahara looks like this on GPS over the High Atlas Mountains. It’s not a route you can make up a lot of time on.
And, of course, it happened to be market day in the larger villages along the route.
But no road closures (just a few detours), and just a couple of brief showers (though the temperature did drop to 37 degrees over the pass).
On the Marrakesh side of the mountains, the sky was mostly sunny, and temperatures climbed back up into the low-70s.
We made it back just in time. After a fun and memorable 11 days on the road, we were sad to bid farewell to our trusty Dacia Duster, but knew that exciting adventures awaited in the not too distant future.
Our friendly apartment host met us at the car and led us the short distance to our home for the next 12 days.
The unit was one of the more funky flats we’ve rented for a week or more. There’s nothing remarkable about the exterior of this five-story apartment block (except for maybe the lack of an elevator).
If I were to guess, it was probably built some time in the 1950s or 60s, and certainly showed its age.
But someone along the way decided to renovate the inside of our particular unit. I guess they thought it would be fun to turn a drab Soviet-feeling place into something that mimicked a Sultan’s assistant’s mother-in-law quarters.
It wasn’t a quiet place, by any stretch—it’s located on a wide and busy main boulevard with a number of bustling cafes below that will likely only get busier after the end of Ramadan. The windows are single pane and the doors are thin and a bit funky.
And the entire apartment could have benefited greatly from a good ol’ fashion deep-clean.
But aside from all that, it turned out to be more than adequate for our needs for the next couple of weeks, and we even saved a considerable amount of money over our last weeklong stay in Marrakesh.
Five stories directly below us, a slew of diners had just dived head-first into Iftar—the breaking of the fast. Only one more day to go.
We really enjoyed our Sahara road trip, but it took a lot out of us. We were all looking forward to getting caught up on sleep, catching up on work and school (well, maybe not the boys so much), and sinking into a routine.
The next couple of weeks are all about laying low in Marrakesh and recharging for the next adventure.
Above, the central courtyard of our apartment complex in the Daoudiate neighborhood of Marrakesh.
This was our third stay in Marrakesh since we arrived in Morocco in early January. The previous two times, we stayed in the Hivernage neighborhood not far from tourist-friendly Gueliz.
This time, we wanted to be in a more local neighborhood that was a bit closer (but not too close) to the Medina. Daoudiate delivered on both accounts.
We never saw another blonde-haired person in the neighborhood (and encountered very little English) and it was 20 minutes closer to the Medina on foot.
Roadside soda kiosks and newstands are still very much a thing in Marrakesh, conveniently loaded with non-alcoholic beverages, smokes, and all the news of the day (in Arabic and French, of course).
The walk to Gueliz and the Medina affords stunning views of the High Atlas Mountains, an almost daily reminder of our journey into the desert just days ago.
In other news, both boys’ Nikes were literally falling apart at the seams. It initially surprised Lori and me, given that both pairs were barely over six months old.
That is, until I did the math (with the help of my own phone’s stats) and estimated the boys have each walked somewhere in the ballpark of 700-800 miles in the past six months—an average of four miles a day.
Curious, I looked up what the expected life span is for a pair of kids’ Nike shoes and learned that they’re designed to last between 300-500 miles, but that the vast majority of kids outgrow them well before the 200-mile mark.
We knew finding Nikes (or equivalently constructed kids shoe) was not going to be easy in Morocco. We could wait until we got back to Europe, but the boys needed shoes now.
So, we high-tailed it to Decathlon (the athletic gear superstore that seems to be everywhere but the U.S.) and got the next best thing—a pair of Nike knockoffs for the big one, and a pair of New Balance knockoffs for the little one.
The boys absolutely loved getting to pick out a pair of sneakers in an actual store (we usually order online or get hand-me-downs). And I loved that my kids would be walking around for the next several months with upside down Swooshes and inverted ‘N’s on their kicks.
Back home in Daoudiate. Our apartment is the one on the top floor directly above the word ‘Loft’. Our rear terrace overlooks yet another equally active shawarma spot.
Noe’s been enjoying having more one-on-one time with mom and dad lately. He especially likes to accompany Lori on errands around the neighborhood, like her [almost] daily visits to MonQuotidien, which is fitting for a place that means “My Daily” in French.
Besides being packed to the hilt with truly tasty pastries and artisan breads for very good prices, the place might just be the most ginormous bakery I’ve ever seen.
Housed in a massive six-story building, we originally thought the place had seating. But no. It’s all just bakery, production, and storage space.
Three evenings in, I returned to the apartment with Riley to find the ground floor of the stairwell taken over by extremely territorial cats.
Stray cats are abundant throughout the Muslim world, almost thought of as sacred and untouchable. That notion wasn’t lost on these kitties, apparently.
From that night on, we were greeted by this sight (and a symphony of hissing) every time we returned to our apartment.
Finally, the pictures I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for. The Marrakesh Medina.
I’d wager by now, most folks would have posted a dozen photos and a love letter to the place. Honestly, Lori and I can’t stand the Marrakesh Medina. I’ve already gone on a tirade of sorts in a previous post, so I’ll spare you a second.
In a nutshell, we got a lot more out of the Fez Medina, and even Tangier, which feel a lot more authentic and lived in. Marrakesh’s Medina is basically Disneyland masquerading as Old Town. The only difference is, you’re much more likely to get killed by a racing motorbike here than at Disneyland.
So why are we back here, then? Well, two reasons. There’s a coffee shop we enjoy visiting from time to time, and there were still a few historic sights in the UNESCO quarter we were keen on seeing…
…which was quickly reduced to just one after our visit to the sh*tshow that is Madrasa Ben Youssef.
Don’t get me wrong, this 16th-century Islamic college is absolutely stunning. The tile and woodwork are incredibly intricate. It’s fresh-off a recent restoration and probably looks the best it’s looked in centuries.
But man oh man, the crowds here were intense, even in the morning midweek in March. All the mysterious nooks and crannies upstairs were crammed with humanity, and the center courtyard was devoured by hoards jostling for selfies.
We toured the top madrasas in Fez which were almost as stunning and shared the vast space with just a small handful of other people.
We’ve had a good run in Morocco over our nearly three months. But we decided then and there that that would be the last sight we’d pay or make an effort to see in this country for a while.
On our next outing, we skipped the Medina altogether and headed to a French cafe for the best savory crepe we’ve had since Laos. Oh the memories!
With Ramadan over, everyday routines have resumed. Cafes are packed with old men sipping mint tea and espresso, shopping malls are once again hopping, and parks are once again open for fun.
Even so, there aren’t a lot of parks in this town. Most are a fairly lengthy walk from the apartment…except for one. We attempted to visit on our last time in town, but it was looking pretty shady and neglected. We thought it might just appear that way because of Ramadan. So, we decided to give it another shot…
No better the second time around. Noe’s made it clear there won’t be a third.
During our time in Marrakesh, they were busy tearing up the sidewalks, then replacing them with red asphalt. It made for a frustrating walking experience for the majority of our time here, but at least we got to enjoy the end product just before our departure.
By our final two nights, we had done a superb job of making sure we wouldn’t be leaving any groceries behind in our apartment. So superb in fact, that we had nothing left for dinner and weren’t about to buy any more groceries before our imminent flight out of Morocco.
I suggested we try the place below our apartment. After all, we’ve been sampling the cuisine through our noses since we arrived and it smelled delicious. It’s fitting we actually gave it a try.
The place might be the best deal in town. And the shawarmas were some of the best we’ve had in a very long time. So good, in fact, we returned the very next night for another round before leaving the country the next morning.
So long, Morocco! We’ve really enjoyed our time exploring this beautiful and fascinating country from tip to toe.
It’s bittersweet to leave, but we’re ready and new adventures await.
