Day 1 – First Impressions of Marrakech

We arrived in Marrakech before the official start of the program, which gave us the chance to experience the city on foot and at our own pace.

Starting from our hotel, the Kenzi Rose Garden Hotel on Avenue du Président Kennedy, we set out on foot, walking along Boulevard El Yarmouk. Almost immediately, the feel of the city began to change. Traffic thinned, footpaths widened, and the pace slowed just enough to notice details — people walking to work, shopkeepers opening doors, the rhythm of an ordinary morning in Marrakech.

It was a bit chilly when we arrived, and I found a comfortable spot near the fireplace by the hotel bar to warm up. While there, we sampled a classic Moroccan beer, Flag, an easy introduction to local flavors before the day’s exploration began.

Our walk took us through Arset Moulay Abdesstiom, a green space that offered a brief pause from the city streets. The park felt lived in rather than curated, used by locals as a place to pass through or sit for a moment. One thing that struck us quickly was the number of cats that seemed to inhabit the park. It was an early introduction to how public spaces function here — practical, social, and woven into daily life.

Across the street from the park was the Ensemble Artisanal Craft Complex, a cluster of artisan shops showcasing traditional Moroccan crafts. This was our first close look at Moroccan craftsmanship, from woodwork to textiles. Seeing these skills presented as working trades rather than souvenirs helped frame later discussions about heritage, identity, and the importance of preserving traditional techniques.

From there, we continued on to Jemaa el-Fnaa Square, the heart of Marrakech and part of the 11th-century old city. Even during the day, the square was active and layered with sound and movement. It was clearly a place that has served as a gathering point for centuries — not frozen in time, but constantly adapting while retaining its role as the city’s central public space. Of course, Jemaa El-Fnaa wouldn’t be complete without the snake charmers. They’re very much part of the spectacle, and just as quick to charge if you stop for a photo with one of their snakes. We paused for a glass of mint tea nearby, and Clare found it quite delicious — a small but welcome break amid the noise and movement of the square.

Nearby, the Kutubiyya Mosque rose above the surrounding streets, its minaret visible from many angles. We couldn’t enter, but its presence was unmistakable. Rather than feeling like a separate monument, it felt integrated into the life of the city — a visual anchor that helped orient us as we walked.

As we moved through Kutubiyya Mosque square, we also encountered the traditional Moroccan water sellers, known as guerab. Dressed in vivid red robes, wide straw hats decorated with colorful tassels, and carrying brass cups, they are a familiar sight in the square. Historically, these men played an essential role in Marrakech, supplying drinking water from goatskin bags to residents and travelers in a desert city long before modern plumbing. Today, their role is largely symbolic. They announce their presence by ringing small bells and clanging their cups, posing for photographs rather than selling water, yet they remain a living reminder of how the city once functioned — practical traditions transformed into cultural memory.

That first day, simple as it was, set the tone for the journey ahead. By walking from our hotel into parks, artisan spaces, and finally into the old city, we began to understand Marrakech not as a collection of sights, but as a connected, lived-in place.

Day 2 – History, Art, and Architecture in the Medina

Day two focused on understanding Marrakech through its historic institutions, architecture, and the layers of culture preserved within the medina.

Our morning began at the Ben Youssef Madrasa, a former Islamic college dating back to the 14th century and once the largest of its kind in North Africa. Built under the Marinid dynasty and renovated by the Saadians in 1565, it stands as a striking example of Andalusian-Arabic design. The central courtyard, surrounded by approximately 130 former student cells, is richly adorned with zellige tilework, carved cedarwood, and intricate stucco — craftsmanship that reflects the importance once placed on scholarship, faith, and artistic excellence in Moroccan society.

Today, as a museum, it offers a quiet yet powerful glimpse into scholarly life in medieval Marrakech. Prominently displayed inside was a photograph of the Moroccan royal family — a reminder of the continued role of monarchy in national identity. We also noticed the impressive wooden doors: large exterior doors fitted with smaller inset doors, which were used in winter to conserve heat. Inside, additional furnishings were arranged for warmth and comfort, revealing how architecture here has long balanced beauty with practicality.

Nearby is the Marrakech Museum, housed in the 19th-century Dar Menebhi Palace. Restored and opened as a museum in 1997, the palace centers on a grand courtyard dominated by an impressive chandelier. The exhibits highlight Morocco’s cultural diversity, bringing together Jewish, Berber, and Arab artistic traditions under one roof, reinforcing the idea of Morocco as a country shaped by multiple identities. Our Road Scholar Coordinator Malika took a few minutes to pet one of the many cats that inhabit Morocco.

We had lunch in the medina at Dar Moha Restaurant, where we were served a traditional chicken and olive tagine, rich with spices and slow-cooked flavors. It was a simple but memorable reminder of how central food is to Moroccan culture — generous, communal, and deeply rooted in tradition.

In the afternoon, we visited Dar El Bacha, the former residence of Thami El Glaoui, the powerful Pasha of Marrakech during the early 20th century and the French Protectorate. Built in 1910, the palace reflects both political authority and refined taste. Its architecture showcases classic Moroccan craftsmanship, from detailed zellige tilework and carved cedar ceilings to elegant courtyards and gardens.

Once a center of political life and hospitality, Dar El Bacha hosted dignitaries, artists, and diplomats from around the world. After falling into disrepair, it has been carefully restored and now houses the Museum of Confluences, a space dedicated to exploring the many cultural influences that have shaped Morocco. Walking through the palace offered insight not only into elite life in Marrakech, but also into the broader question of Moroccan identity — complex, layered, and shaped by centuries of exchange.

Day 3 – Gardens, Art, and Cultural Layers

Day three offered a shift in pace, moving from the intensity of the medina to spaces shaped by design, creativity, and quieter reflection.

Our morning began at Jardin Majorelle, a 2.5-acre botanical garden created by the French artist Jacques Majorelle, who first came to Marrakech in 1917. Captivated by the city, he purchased the land in 1923 and began cultivating a garden filled with plants from five continents. In the 1930s, he commissioned a Cubist villa, later painted the vivid cobalt now known as bleu Majorelle, a colour so distinctive it was eventually patented.

After Jacques Majorelle’s death, the garden fell into decline until it was rescued in the 1980s by Yves Saint Laurent and Pierre Bergé, who undertook an extensive restoration and expansion. The Moroccan people held such deep respect for Yves Saint Laurent as he did for them that, although cremation is not traditionally accepted within Islamic practice, his ashes were scattered in the garden’s rose area without controversy — a quiet testament to the affection and esteem in which he was held.

Today, the garden contains hundreds of plant species and remains one of Marrakech’s most visited sites. It is no longer a place of solitude — crowds and cameras are everywhere — yet its visual impact is undeniable. As I walked the paths, a woman, and later two others, asked me to take their photographs — a small but telling reminder of how international and shared this space has become.

Within the garden is the Pierre Bergé Museum of Berber Art, dedicated to the Amazigh, Morocco’s Indigenous people. One thing we learned is that the word “Berber” itself comes from the Romans, who labelled the people of North Africa barbari, or barbarians — an outsider’s term that the Amazigh did not choose for themselves. Today, Amazigh is the preferred name, meaning “free people,” and it better reflects both their history and their enduring cultural identity. Pierre Bergé’s admiration for Amazigh culture is evident in the museum’s focused collection of jewellery, textiles, and everyday objects drawn from across Morocco. Photography was not allowed but the museum is well worth the time to visit.

Lunch was at the Culinary Garden, where the food once again stood out. We began with grilled eggplant fillet and seasonal vegetables, followed by tagliatelle with Atlantic salmon in a creamy tarragon sauce. Dessert — a lemon tart with almond crumble and almond ice cream — was, like so many meals on this trip, memorable.

In the afternoon, we visited Slat Al-Azama Synagogue, located in Marrakech’s historic mellah, or Jewish quarter. Established in the 16th century, the mellah once housed the largest Jewish community in Morocco. At its peak in the early 20th century, some 25,000 Jews lived in the city. Today, only a small community remains.

The synagogue itself is both elegant and intimate, with white walls, colourful carpets, chandeliers, and a richly coloured curtain concealing the Torah ark. Once a private home adapted for worship, it was restored around 2005 and now includes a small museum. While it now serves far fewer congregants than in the past, the building stands as a powerful reminder of Morocco’s long tradition of religious and cultural pluralism.

By the end of the day, the contrast between the manicured calm of Jardin Majorelle and the lived history of the mellah reinforced a theme we were beginning to see clearly: Morocco’s story is not singular, but layered — shaped by art, faith, migration, and coexistence.

Day 4 – Identity, Cuisine, and Women’s Spaces

Our morning began in a screening room where we attended a film presentation and discussion led by Moroccan filmmaker Aya Moudden on the theme “Moroccan Identity and Pluralism.”

Moudden, a graduate in Fine Arts with a focus on Film and Digital Technology, works as both a filmmaker and a color grading technician. In 2021, she directed her first short film, 72, and has since contributed to numerous short and feature films, television series, music videos, and commercials.

She shared three short, thought-provoking films that prompted lively conversation within our group. One film featured interviews with Moroccans speaking candidly about the issues they see in their country and how they view its future. The perspectives were varied and honest, touching on generational change, economic pressures, tradition, and modernization. The discussion that followed was equally engaging. Rather than presenting simple conclusions, the films invited questions — about identity, pluralism, and how Morocco balances continuity with change.

It was a meaningful way to begin the day, grounding us intellectually before moving into something more hands-on.

From there, we walked through the medina to the Moroccan Culinary Arts Museum, an 18th-century palace hidden behind high rammed-earth walls. Once inside, the noise and heat of the streets faded away. The palace spans nearly 5,000 square meters and centers around two magnificent courtyards paved in zellige tile. A Carrara marble fountain sits at the heart of the first courtyard, framed by olive trees and grand salons with soaring ceilings. The structure has been carefully restored, preserving its carved plaster, cedarwood ceilings painted in the zouaké style, and intricate mosaic work.

Upstairs, in a bright reception room outfitted with cooking stations, our class began. A traditional Moroccan cook — a dada — guided us through the techniques of spice blending, oven baking, and balancing flavors. Although I often assist Clare in the kitchen, I would describe my own cooking skills as, at best, rudimentary. Still, with instruction and a bit of help, I managed to prepare a dish that was not only edible but genuinely tasty. Even the eggplant — which I normally avoid — turned out spicy and surprisingly enjoyable. When asked how I thought I had done, I admitted that I had exceeded my own expectations.

The class was lively, collaborative, and full of laughter — a fitting counterpart to the morning’s more serious reflection on identity.

In the afternoon, we visited the Bahia Palace, one of Marrakech’s most impressive 19th-century residences. Built between 1860 and 1874 by Grand Vizier Si Moussa and later expanded by his son Ba Ahmed, the palace covers eight hectares and consists of interconnected, single-story buildings arranged around shaded courtyards and gardens. The name Bahia means “brilliance” or “the beautiful,” an apt description given the elaborate zellij mosaics, carved stucco, painted cedarwood ceilings, and tranquil garden spaces.

Originally a private residence for the vizier, his wives, and concubines, the palace offers insight into how space, privacy, and hierarchy were organized within elite households. Our visit was accompanied by a lecture on women in private and public spaces in Islam, which added valuable context to what we were seeing — how architecture shaped daily life, movement, and social roles.

Rather than take the bus back at the end of the day, I chose to walk back to the hotel so I could take photographs along the way. Seeing the Kutubiyya Mosque from a different angle, with the park spread out at its base, gave me a new appreciation for how the building anchors the city. Along the walk, I passed Nobu, the Louis Vuitton hotel, and La Mamounia, symbols of Marrakech’s modern luxury scene. At one point, I even walked past a Lamborghini sports car available to rent by the hour and a half — a moment that neatly captured the contrast between centuries-old tradition and contemporary excess, coexisting side by side.

Day 5 – The High Atlas Mountains and Amazigh Hospitality

Day five took us out of Marrakech and into the High Atlas Mountains, a dramatic shift in both landscape and pace.

We traveled by bus to Ouirgane, with lectures along the way on Amazigh people and culture and on tourism and hiking in the High Atlas, led by members of the local tour guide association. These conversations helped frame what we were about to experience — not the mountains as scenery alone, but as a lived-in environment shaped by centuries of adaptation, knowledge, and resilience.

The Atlas Mountains stretch across Morocco, Algeria, and Tunisia, forming the backbone of North Africa. Their name is thought to come from Greek mythology, where Atlas was the Titan condemned to hold up the heavens — a fitting image for a range that dominates both geography and imagination. There is also a long-held belief that the Atlantic Ocean takes its name from these mountains, once referred to as the Atlantic Sea, meaning the sea beyond the Atlas. Whether mythological or geographic, the connection underscores how central this range has been to how the region was understood by the outside world.

In Ouirgane, we met local hiking guides who led us up to a higher vantage point, giving us sweeping views across the surrounding valleys. From there, we hiked down toward the village below, following paths that revealed how closely life here is tied to the land. Some of the roads and trails were quite muddy — a result of significant rainfall this year. The mud made the walking slower, but the rain itself has been very welcome. After seven years of drought, the return of consistent rainfall has brought relief to both farmers and ecosystems in the region.

As we walked, we saw evidence of millennia-old environmental practices — terraced fields, water channels, and building methods designed to conserve resources and work with the terrain. We watched the harvest of olives by striking the branches to have the olives fall to the ground for gathering. These approaches have long helped sustain life in the mountains, even as climate change now introduces new challenges.

Lunch was shared with a local Amazigh family and prepared by a woman named Mina. The organic, home-cooked meal was generous and unpretentious, and enjoying it inside her home made the experience feel personal rather than staged. It was a reminder that hospitality here is not something performed for visitors, but a deeply rooted cultural value. During the meal, one of our fellow participants, Narda, was invited to learn how to properly prepare and pour Moroccan mint tea — a ritual in itself. She carefully followed our guide’s instruction, later serving the tea to the rest of us to enjoy.

Because it was Friday, we were reminded of an important Moroccan culinary tradition: couscous is most commonly prepared and served on Fridays, the holy day in Islam. Many restaurants do not offer it on their regular menus throughout the week, reserving it instead for this special day when families traditionally gather after prayers to share the dish.

Not wanting to miss the opportunity, we went to the Moroccan restaurant at our hotel to sample their Friday couscous with chicken. The dish was beautifully presented — tender chicken nestled into a generous mound of steamed semolina, accompanied by vegetables and fragrant broth. It was both hearty and delicate, and quite marvelous. Experiencing it on the proper day made it feel less like a menu selection and more like participation in a weekly ritual deeply woven into Moroccan life.

As we dined, two musicians dressed in traditional red Moroccan attire provided live music, adding yet another layer of authenticity to the evening. One played the oud, its warm, resonant tones filling the room, while the other accompanied him on a hand drum, keeping a steady rhythmic pulse. The music was neither overpowering nor intrusive; it flowed gently through the restaurant, enhancing the intimate and elegant setting. It was a fitting soundtrack for our dinner — traditional, soulful, and unmistakably Moroccan.

By the end of the day, the High Atlas felt less like a scenic backdrop and more like a living system — shaped by history, climate, and community. The mountains are not just part of Morocco’s geography; they are central to its cultural and environmental story.

Day 6 – Women, Water, and Climate Action

Day six focused on how Morocco is responding to climate change, with particular attention to the leadership role played by women.

Our morning began with a lecture by Hamza Cherif D’ouezzani on “Rural Women Leading on Climate Action.” Hamza is part of Anou, an award-winning cooperative made up of more than 600 artisans from across Morocco. What makes Anou distinctive is that it is owned and managed by artisans themselves, removing traditional middlemen and ensuring that income stays with the people creating the work.

Anou uses technology to connect artisans directly with customers around the world — whether an individual buyer or a purchasing manager from a global brand. The model is both practical and quietly radical: transparency, fair compensation, and economic independence, particularly for women working in rural areas where opportunities are often limited.

Later in the morning, we visited AMAN — the Museum of the Water Civilization in Morocco (Mohammed VI). Water is a defining issue in Morocco, and the museum presents it not as a single challenge, but as a long and evolving relationship between people, climate, and ingenuity. Spread across three levels, the exhibition traces Morocco’s hydraulic history through models, maps, reconstructions, and immersive displays.

The first level explores the science of water and climate, along with the legal frameworks governing water use. The second focuses on oasis water management and the cultural rituals tied to water, while the lower level examines engineering solutions — from traditional systems of water extraction and distribution to modern hydraulic innovations. A final 360-degree projection brings the story together, reinforcing just how central water management has been to Morocco’s survival and development.

In the afternoon, we visited the Centre de la Femme Artisane, a women’s leather cooperative. Seeing women working collectively, preserving traditional skills while generating income, echoed the themes we had encountered all day — resilience, adaptation, and leadership rooted in local knowledge.

By the end of Day 6, it was clear that conversations about sustainability in Morocco are inseparable from conversations about women. Whether through craft, commerce, or environmental stewardship, women are not just participating in climate solutions — they are leading them.

Day 7 – Agriculture, Sustainability, and Gender Dynamics in Essaouira

Day seven marked our transition from Marrakech to Essaouira, a wind-swept port city on Morocco’s Atlantic coast with a very different rhythm and personality.

We traveled by bus, accompanied by a lecture on art and spirituality, which helped frame Essaouira as more than a seaside town. Long known for its creative and bohemian atmosphere, the city blends European and Moroccan influences in its whitewashed buildings, blue shutters, fortified seawalls, and relaxed pace. Its medina, a UNESCO World Heritage site, reflects centuries of trade, cultural exchange, and coexistence, including a historic Jewish quarter.

Before arriving at the Marjana Argan Cooperative, I found myself absorbed by the changing countryside outside the bus windows. The landscape opened into rolling fields dotted with small farms, where people were working the land much as they have for generations. Shepherds guided their flocks across open ground, a quiet reminder that agriculture and pastoral life remain central to this region.

One scene, however, stood out as unmistakably modern in a different way: a man encouraging a goat to climb into an argan tree. Tree-climbing goats are often presented as a tourist curiosity, and while the practice is rooted in the goats’ natural behavior, it has increasingly become a roadside attraction. Some travelers stop, take photographs, and leave a few dirhams in exchange for the spectacle. It was an interesting contrast — everyday rural life unfolding alongside moments shaped by tourism.

Along the way, we visited the Marjana Argan Cooperative, a women-run initiative focused on the production of argan oil — one of Morocco’s most important agricultural and export products. Learning about the cooperative highlighted the intersection of sustainability, agriculture, and women’s economic independence. The work is labor-intensive and rooted in traditional knowledge, yet increasingly connected to global markets, echoing themes we had seen earlier in the trip.

The scenery at the winery where we stopped for lunch was magnificent. Rolling countryside stretched in every direction, and after the bustle of Marrakech, the openness felt especially refreshing. The meal itself was excellent — fresh, well-prepared food paired with local wines that were light and surprisingly refreshing.

Thanks to the much-needed rain earlier in the year, the landscape was lush and green. One small house in particular caught my eye, its yard bursting with bright yellow flowers in full bloom, a simple but striking image of renewal. And, as often happens on trips like this, Amy couldn’t help herself — she spotted a kitten nearby and immediately began wondering aloud if she could somehow take it home.

Arriving in Essaouira later in the day, we checked into the Atlas Essaouira Riad Resort, our base for the next part of the journey. Almost immediately, the atmosphere felt calmer than Marrakech — cooler air, steady winds, and an openness shaped by the ocean.

That evening, we attended a performance of Ahwash, a traditional Amazigh musical choreography, presented by a group from the village of Haha. Combining rhythmic drumming, song, poetic language, and coordinated movement, Ahwash is not just music but a communal expression of identity. Participation is encouraged, and joining in underscored how cultural traditions here are meant to be shared rather than simply observed. In the end, half of our group joined in to dance in this traditional way.

By the end of the day, Essaouira felt like a natural counterbalance to Marrakech — less intense, more reflective, and deeply connected to the land and sea. The focus on agriculture, women’s leadership, and cultural expression reinforced how sustainability in Morocco is lived daily, not discussed in the abstract.

Day 8 – Cultural and Religious Diversity in Essaouira

Our final full day in Essaouira was devoted to exploring the city’s cultural and religious diversity, revealed through its streets, shoreline, and creative spaces.

I arose early that morning to photograph Essaouira at daybreak. There is something special about a city before it fully awakens — before the shop doors open, before voices fill the streets, before the rhythm of commerce begins. The light was soft and gentle against the whitewashed walls and blue shutters, and the ocean air felt cool and clean.

Sunrises and sunsets have always seemed to me the best times to photograph a place. The changing light reveals angles, textures, and moods that are often lost in the brightness of midday. In those quiet early moments, Essaouira felt even more peaceful — a different version of itself, unhurried and contemplative.

We began with a walk through the traditional fishing port, where blue wooden boats crowded the harbor and fishermen unloaded the day’s catch. The scene was practical and unpolished, offering a clear view of a working port that continues to shape the city’s economy and daily rhythms. Nearby, the Sqala de la Ville, Essaouira’s fortified seawall, provided sweeping views of the Atlantic and a reminder of the city’s strategic importance as a trading post between Africa and Europe.

From there, we wandered through the old city streets and alleyways, where Essaouira’s character becomes most apparent. The medina feels more open and navigable than Marrakech’s, with a noticeable blend of Moroccan and European design. Whitewashed walls, blue shutters, and carved doorways reflect centuries of exchange, migration, and coexistence.

A highlight of the day was our visit to Bayt Dakira, a cultural space dedicated to preserving Essaouira’s Jewish heritage. The site honours the long history of Jewish life in the city and its role in shaping Essaouira as a place of religious tolerance and shared identity. Rather than presenting history as something separate from the present, Bayt Dakira emphasises memory, dialogue, and continuity.

Later, we met with a local artist, visiting a workshop where either woodworking or painting is still practiced by hand. Seeing the creative process up close reinforced Essaouira’s reputation as an artistic center — a place where tradition and individual expression coexist naturally.

The remainder of the day was left open, allowing time to explore at our own pace or simply take in the atmosphere of the city. By then, it was clear why Essaouira has long attracted artists, musicians, and travelers seeking space to think and create. Its cultural diversity isn’t staged or curated; it’s embedded in everyday life.

Final Day – A Farewell to Morocco

Our final day felt a bit anticlimactic after the richness and depth of the experiences that had filled the previous week. We boarded the bus and made our way back to Marrakech, watching the countryside pass by one last time.

We enjoyed a relaxed and wonderful lunch at the Kenzi Rose Garden Hotel, giving us time to reflect on all we had seen and learned. Conversations drifted easily between architecture, history, music, food, and the many people who had shared their perspectives with us. It was a fitting pause before the official close of our adventure.

That evening, we gathered for a farewell dinner at The Red House, a spectacular venue to end our journey. Originally a private family home, The Red House was later transformed into an elegant guest palace, blending tradition with modern comfort. Located in the Hivernage district, just across from the walls of the Marrakech medina, the property sits on beautifully landscaped grounds with gardens and an outdoor pool, offering a peaceful retreat from the city’s energy.

The restaurant itself provided an intimate and distinctly Moroccan atmosphere. Fine carved woodwork, refined mosaic tile, and intricate sculptural details reflected the craftsmanship we had come to admire throughout the trip. The chef presented traditional Moroccan dishes alongside international cuisine, all beautifully prepared. It felt like a celebration — not only of the food, but of the culture that had welcomed us so generously.

Many thanks to our Road Scholar Coordinator, Malika Lemdarsaoui, and our Study Group Leader, Nabil Akabli, who made the trip not just educational but relaxed. They did an outstanding job smoothing out any bumps in the road — so much so that we hardly noticed them. Their knowledge, patience, and steady guidance enriched every day of the journey.

As the evening drew to a close, it was clear that while the final day may have been quieter, it provided something equally valuable: a moment to appreciate the journey in its entirety — from the intensity of Marrakech to the serenity of Essaouira, from ancient traditions to modern sustainability efforts.

It was, in every sense, a memorable conclusion to an extraordinary adventure.