Thanks to our wonderful friend, Jacqui, and her tales of life in Morocco as we sat eating delicious dishes from there in her restaurant, Olive in Belper, His Nibs and I have hankered to visit this country ourselves for quite a while. This year (again!) has been quite an eventful one for the Flock, so we left it very late to book ourselves a holiday… but it was worth the wait.
Turns out that this holiday had a fair few firsts for us: first time with Tui, first time flying from Birmingham Airport, first time using an airport lounge (usually too busy shopping in Duty Free!), and first time to Morocco and Marrakech. To say we were buzzing is the world’s biggest understatement as we pulled the jalopy into the airport parking that we’d booked; this was a seamlessly slick, hassle-free experience – fingers crossed the rest of the day went like it.
We caught the shuttle bus from the car park over to the terminal, got our bearings and headed over to the check-in desk where the lovely Tui staff swiftly got us sorted. I couldn’t resist the lure of some tax-free retail therapy, but kept it brief as there was food and drink to be had in the clubroom/lounge. I had a tasty Green Risotto, The Man Bird had Tempura Fish Goujons; both were hot and flavoursome, and the Gin and Tonics that accompanied them set the tone for our get-away.
A warm welcome awaited us as we boarded our plane, the lovely team directing us to our seats with broad smiles. The flight time was only 3½ hours and the crew never stopped, serving all the passengers with snacks, meals and drinks as well as more duty-free items. Before we knew it, the captain was announcing that we were beginning our descent into Marrakech Airport and to pop our seatbelts back on. Everything had been like clockwork up until this point, and so we were feeling confident of getting to our hotel (the Riu Tikida Palmeraie, FYI) in time to have a quick mooch around and a night-cap before hitting the sack. Assumption is the mother of all whatsits – as we know – and so I really should’ve known better than to jinx myself.
I can only describe the arrivals hall scene as something out of an apocalypse movie: the queue filled the whole space, the staircase and beyond. You can imagine the heat emanating from thousands of bodies, and the next three hours were, frankly, miserable… not helped by the stony face of the immigration officer I passed my passport to. This guy needs a refresher on his ‘How to enjoy your job’ training, LOL. A nice game of hunt-your-luggage ensued, thanks to the combination of several flights having landed at the same time and the ridiculous time spent in passport control; His Nibs’ suitcase was, for some reason, stacked to one side of the luggage reclaim area, whilst mine was still twirling by itself on the carousel. However, we eventually made it through to our awaiting coach, having been directed to it by the lovely Tui team member who was greeting all their new guests.
Around 11.30–11.45pm we pulled into the lush grounds of the Riu Tikida Palmeraie Hotel and were told that the bellboy would take us, and our luggage, to our room after we’d checked in at reception. The glass doors opened and a smartly attired staff member welcomed us with a glass of chilled fruit punch – this was possibly the most refreshing and appreciated drink I’ve ever had. Thankfully, check-in was swift and professional and we got settled in and managed to grab a bite of very late supper in the restaurant that had been kept open for us late arrivals.
I should just mention our room: it was very spacious, with two wardrobes, a separate lavatory (complete with bidet) and shower room, and there were plenty of mirrors around to check your appearance or do make-up in front of. The pair of size-and-a-half single beds were pushed together and precisely made up with pristine white linens and an olive-green runner at the foot. There was a bedside cabinet at each side, as well as a desk, chair and even a sofa; presumably this would’ve pulled out to be a third bed if needed. When we returned each day, our lovely chambermaid had arranged the towels and runner into arty displays that were sometimes accompanied by fragrant, fresh rose petals; she also thoughtfully restocked our water supplies too, popping the bottles into the mini fridge for us. How sweet is that?
With it being our first time in Morocco, we had decided to just book a week’s break, figuring that if we didn’t like the culture or country then we hadn’t taken a huge chunk of time out of our lives. Turns out that we wanted to stay indefinitely – there wasn’t a single thing (other than the airport) that we didn’t love.
The week passed in a blissful blur of excursions: a jeep tour of the High Atlas Mountains with mint tea and lunch, camel riding in the Agafay Desert at sunset with dinner under the stars in a Berber tent, North Africa’s highest waterfalls at Ouzoud (complete with a troop of wild monkeys), and the magnificent natural wonder of Imi-n-Ifri with its stalactites.
Of course, you can’t visit Marrakech without experiencing the hustle and bustle of the souks and all I can say is that this is a mind-blowingly marvellous assault on the senses. It’s chaotic and overwhelming, but to immerse yourself in it is to really ‘get’ the culture, and neither of us would have missed out on this for the world. I always say that everything is allowed in balance, so off we headed to the Spa at Tikida Palmeraie for a couple’s treatment that involved a body scrub, warm clay wrap and oil massage: a snip at 950MAD (approx. £80) for the two of us – you couldn’t get an hour’s treatment in Britain for one person at this price, never mind two.
We did spend a couple of days lazing around the pool, reading books and chatting to fellow holidaymakers; well, with all that glorious sunshine it would’ve been rude not to. All the pool staff were super-helpful, pulling over the sun loungers and parasols as needed; definitely tip your pool boy, it’ll be the best dosh you part with.
The Man and I also indulged in the cuisine on offer, and there was certainly a great selection to choose from. I piled on salad after salad onto my plate, opting to have the meat and vegetable tagines as a second course… His Nibs just went straight in at it all, in his usual bull-in-a-china-shop style. Again, the serving team were wonderful; they made sure that we were enjoying our food, that our glasses were kept topped up (both with the local wine and water), and they also took the time to have a chat.
By the end of the first day, we’d already made friends at each meal, and each subsequent day was building more and more on the relationship. We had an evening (or two) in El Nakhil, the hotel’s dedicated Moroccan restaurant, though didn’t go to La Trattoria (the Italian restaurant): if we’d wanted Italian food, we’d holiday in Italy. Breakfast was taken in the main hotel restaurant, Le Tikida, and there was a massive selection of hot and cold items, meats, cheeses, pastries, fruit and yoghurt; needless to say, we indulged and broke our fasts with gusto.
Whether it had been at the hotel or ‘out in the field’ so to speak, everywhere we’d gone we were welcomed as friends and offered mint tea – drinking this is a Moroccan national sport, I reckon. I can safely say that the people of Morocco are as warm as the weather we’d been having.
So, would we return? You bet we would – in a heartbeat. Morocco, you were magnificent; thank you for giving us such superb memories.
