Morocco: Beyond Casablanca and Marrakech

Casablanca. I have always found the name beautiful. Long before I visited Morocco, it was the film that made me curious about the country. In my imagination, Morocco was associated with romance and mystery. It felt oriental, Arab, and exotic—a kingdom from another world.

Later, my years as a student in Paris introduced me to Morocco in a different way, through its diaspora. I discovered delicious couscous, tagines, fragrant sweet mint tea, and the deep historical ties between Morocco and France. I also became aware of some of the tensions that shaped life for many people of North African origin. Although Moroccans and other Maghrebians were an integral part of French society, some still faced prejudice and unequal opportunities. Several Moroccan students studied alongside me in Paris, giving me my first opportunity to get to know Morocco through people rather than films or stereotypes.

Memories Instead of Things

I visited Marrakech and its surroundings in February 2012. The trip was a surprise for my boyfriend, now my husband, and he only discovered the destination the day before we left. At the time, we had been together for about a year.

For many years, we kept a tradition of surprising each other with a trip for our birthdays. Even now, we still try to travel for birthdays whenever we can. Over time, we have come to value experiences more than things, and I love that this tradition reflects both my growing interest in a more minimalist lifestyle and my dream of visiting every country in the world with care.

Of course, with four children, birthday trips are no longer quite as easy to keep secret. These days, the logistics usually reveal the surprise long before departure. But the spirit of the tradition remains the same: collecting memories together rather than accumulating possessions.

Marrakech

The Red City, famous for its terracotta walls, felt vibrant and chaotic. Fascinating. Around every corner there seemed to be another hidden courtyard, tiled fountain, or beautifully carved doorway.

I loved Marrakech. Its architecture, its colors, and all those beautiful details—little pieces of art, sometimes hidden and sometimes impossible to miss. We were newly in love at the time, so perhaps everything seemed a little more beautiful and romantic than it otherwise would have. Still, there was something about Marrakech—the warm evenings, hidden riads, and endless wandering through the medina—that made it an unforgettable destination to discover together.

What has stayed with me most, however, are its spice markets. The bustling souks were overflowing with colors and scents. Pyramids of spices lined the narrow alleys, while the aromas of cumin, cinnamon, saffron, and mint drifted through the air. Even now, when I think of Marrakech, it is often those scents that come back first.

Rural Morocco

Having previously visited Tunisia and Egypt, I somehow expected Morocco to be a desert country with a similar landscape. The snow-capped mountains in the distance came as a surprise. They did not fit the image I had carried of the country.

Of course, I could have known this had I studied a guidebook beforehand. But I have always preferred to leave room for surprise. I travel with only loose plans and little preparation, allowing a place to reveal itself gradually. I like to learn about a country’s history, politics, and culture while I am there—during quiet evenings in a hotel room or through conversations along the way.

Traveling is a bit like reading books for me. I rarely arrive with a list of what I must see or read. Instead, I follow what presents itself: a recommendation from a stranger, a book I happen to find at an airport bookstore, a road that looks interesting. I leave space for chance, or perhaps for a Power Greater Than Myself, to guide me.

The memory that has stayed with me most is sitting on a scooter behind my future husband, holding on tightly as we drove through villages toward the mountains. My heart was full of love. The warm wind caressed my face and a scarf covered my hair, with one end flying behind me like something out of a romantic film. In that moment, Morocco felt exactly like the kind of place I had imagined when I first heard the name Casablanca.

Morocco Through My Nanny

Morocco entered my life again when my third son was born and we were living in a small French village near Geneva.

Finding a nanny was surprisingly difficult. There were very few available in our village or the neighboring ones. Many also followed a childcare approach that was common in France at the time, where babies were expected to fall asleep on their own after being placed in their beds. As a firm believer in attachment parenting, I was looking for something different. I wanted someone who would hold my baby, comfort him, and help him fall asleep in her arms.

The moment I met this Moroccan woman, I knew I could trust her with my son.

When I asked how she would put him to sleep, rocking him gently in her arms seemed like the most natural thing in the world to her. There was a warmth about her that immediately reassured me. Over the years, she and her family—her husband and children—became almost like an extension of our own family.

Through the Moroccan women I have known, both during my student years in Paris and later through our nanny, I came to admire a particular combination of qualities: warmth and strength, generosity and determination. They seemed deeply devoted to their families while also possessing remarkable resilience and independence.

Our nanny had no hesitation in taking care of my three boys alongside her own three children whenever my husband and I wanted a rare evening out together. She was also a wonderful cook. The meals she prepared were so delicious that my sons regularly informed me, with complete honesty, that her cooking was better than mine.

Beyond helping care for my children, she taught me something about the importance of family, faith, and living according to one’s values. She showed me how it is possible to adapt to a new country while remaining deeply connected to your culture and beliefs.

Love, Hospitality, and Sustainable Tourism

The word that comes most readily to mind when I think of Morocco today is love.

Not only the romantic love projected by Casablanca and reinforced by our getaway to Marrakech as a newly formed couple. Not quite the slow love story I have come to associate with Spain after decades of visits. Over the years, Morocco came to represent other forms of love as well: love of family, hospitality, faith, and caring for others.

One of the things I enjoy most about writing these country reflections is that they allow me to continue learning about countries long after I have left them. In the process of writing this post—and developing an almost irresistible craving for Moroccan mint tea—I discovered that Morocco has invested significant effort in promoting more sustainable tourism, something I always appreciate as I try to travel more consciously myself. 

I learned about initiatives such as the Moroccan Trophies for Responsible Tourism, the Green Key certification for environmentally responsible hotels, and the Blue Flag program, which recognizes beaches that meet environmental and quality standards. Morocco also hosted major international climate conferences, including COP7 in Marrakech in 2001 and COP22 in 2016.

Perhaps that too is a form of love: caring not only for guests, family, and traditions, but also for the places we call home.

The Morocco I first encountered through a film was a place of romance and longing. The Morocco I know today is still romantic, but it is also something more. It is a country I associate with warmth, hospitality, family, faith, and care—care that extends from people to places and, increasingly, to the planet itself.

When I think of Morocco now, I do not first picture the walls of Marrakech or the snow-capped Atlas Mountains.

I think of people.

Of a scooter ride through the countryside with the man I would later marry.

Of the Moroccan students I met in Paris.

Of the woman who cared for my children as if they were her own.

Planning a Trip to Morocco?

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