Let's Experience Marrakech city in 2025 Summer
There’s a certain kind of magic to Marrakech; the kind that hums through the medina walls, dances through the scent of spices, and pulses with every beat of a darbuka drum. It's chaotic and calming, ancient and contemporary, and unapologetically alive. When I decided to travel to Marrakech, I knew I was stepping into a place unlike any other. What I didn’t know was how deeply it would enchant me.
Arrival: The Scent of Something Different
I caught a glimpse of the Atlas Mountains in the distance as my plane descended over the ochre-colored landscape. The rooftops of Marrakech, also known as the "Red City" because of its terracotta-colored buildings, were illuminated by the sun in a golden hue. I was greeted by a warm breeze infused with unfamiliar scents as soon as I left the airport: diesel fuel, orange blossoms, and something earthy that I later learned to be argan oil.
An adventure in and of itself was the ride to the riad, a traditional Moroccan house with an interior garden. The narrow streets were navigated by cars, motorbikes, donkeys, and pedestrians in the same way that water moves through a stream: sometimes smoothly, sometimes colliding. My amazement was laughed at as my driver expertly maneuvered through the chaos.
The Riad: An Oasis in the Chaos
Riad Zinnia, tucked away in the old medina, was our destination. It was a plain wooden door in a pink wall from the outside. But once you got inside, it led into a world of peaceful courtyards, carved wood, and tile mosaics. Above the open roof, birds chirped and a fountain gurgled quietly. I was greeted like a member of the family and given a small glass cup of sweet mint tea, the first of many. I went up to the rooftop terrace that evening. I felt goosebumps as a haunting, beautiful symphony of prayer reverberated throughout the city from dozens of minarets. Marrakech was beginning to exert its influence.
The Medina: A Labyrinth of Senses
I braved the famous souks of the medina the following morning. They surpassed everything I'd read. Spices, lanterns, leather goods, carpets, jewelry, and a plethora of other items I didn't recognize were on sale in the narrow alleys. Scents of rose water, sandalwood, cumin, and saffron permeated the air. The vivid blues, fiery oranges, and deep reds were overwhelming. In Arabic, French, and English, vendors called to me to look, taste, and make a deal.
In Morocco, I quickly discovered that bargaining is an art form that combines elements of theater and negotiation and is absolutely necessary. I bought some argan oil, a small silver lamp that looked like it belonged to a genie, and a hand-painted tagine dish. I got lost multiple times in the maze, but that's part of the experience in Marrakech. A new feature was revealed at every turn, including a hidden café, a cat-filled courtyard, and a tiny mosque. I eventually came across Jemaa el-Fna, the city's beating heart.
Jemaa el-Fna: Theater of Life
Jemaa el-Fna is more than just a square; it's a stage that is always changing. It is home to orange juice vendors, henna artists, and snake charmers during the day. It turns into a carnival at night, complete with food stalls, musicians, storytellers, and street performers. Attracted by the beat of Gnawa music and the aroma of grilled lamb, I made my way through the crowd. There, I had my first taste of Moroccan street food: spiced beef skewers, crispy maakouda, and a steaming bowl of harira, a spicy tomato and lentil soup. The food was delicious, easy, and memorable. Locals and tourists alike gathered at improvised tables to talk, laugh, and eat. Instead of a meal, it felt more like a celebration.
History and Culture: Palaces and Gardens
I spent the next few days discovering Marrakech's cultural treasures. With its stunning zellij tilework and painted cedar ceilings, the Bahia Palace told stories of power and grandeur. In contrast, El Badi Palace was a romantic ruin that was once magnificent but is now falling apart and is home to a stork colony. The Jardin Majorelle, a former Yves Saint Laurent botanical garden, was where I found peace. The tranquil pathways, exotic plants, and cobalt-blue buildings were a stark contrast to the chaos of the medina.
Le Jardin Secret, a secret garden with olive trees, fountains, and a calm that seemed to slow time, was another escape. I got a glimpse into the history, art, and architecture of Morocco at the Museum of Marrakech, which is housed in a palace from the 19th century. A work of art in and of itself, its central courtyard featured a magnificent chandelier and intricate stucco.
The Hammam Experience: A Ritual of Rebirth
A visit to a traditional hammam, also known as a Moroccan steam bath, was one of the most memorable but also somewhat nerve-wracking experiences. It was both humbling and revitalizing for me to choose a local hammam over a tourist spa. I emerged red as a tomato but feeling reborn after being scrubbed from head to toe with black soap and a rough glove by a kind but firm attendant. It felt ancient and sacred because of the steam, the exfoliation, and the ritual. I then had a glass of mint tea and sat quietly on a rooftop and watched the city sunset.
Food and Flavors: A Culinary Journey
In Marrakech, every meal felt like a new discovery. Pastilla, a sweet-and-savory pie made with pigeon meat, almonds, and cinnamon, couscous topped with seven vegetables, and tagines with tender lamb and apricots were some of my favorites. One afternoon, I took a cooking class and learned how to make Moroccan flatbread, use preserved lemons, and grind spices. Fatima, my teacher, invited us into her kitchen and shared stories as well as recipes. She informed us that "cooking is how Moroccan women express love." Chebakia, or honey-soaked pastries, or sellou, a nutty powdery treat, were my favorite desserts. And mint tea, which is always served hot, sweet, and poured from a great height to produce its trademark froth.
Day Trips and Adventures Beyond
Beyond its walls, Marrakech is a gateway to adventures. I once traveled with a group to the Agafay Desert, a rocky region located an hour outside of the city. I rode a camel there as the sun set, illuminating the sand-colored hills with golden light. On another day, I went to the Ourika Valley in the Atlas Mountains, where Berber villages are clinging to hillsides and waterfalls cascade down green slopes. It was a different side of Morocco—more tranquil, cooler, and close to nature.
People: The Heart of the City
The people were the most important aspect of my trip that will always be remembered. The warmth and hospitality of Moroccans left a lasting impression on me, whether it was from the vendor who helped me find my way around the souks, the staff at my riad who treated me like a member of their own family, or random people who smiled and gave me directions. Free-flowing conversations frequently occurred over tea.
I learned about family life, local customs, the significance of Ramadan, and the difficulties of modern life in a city with a long history. I gained comprehension, connection, and frequently unexpected wisdom from these conversations.
Reflections: A City That Lives in You
It was like coming out of a vivid dream when we left Marrakech. It is a location that not only demands to be felt but also to be seen. You can still feel its rhythm, colors, and contradictions long after you leave. I learned to accept the chaos, appreciate the imperfection, slow down, and enjoy the present. It made me realize that traveling is about more than just places; it's also about the experiences, feelings, and stories we learn along the way. Spices, souvenirs, and a dusty lantern filled my suitcase as I boarded the plane. But my heart was lighter, fuller, and forever influenced by the Red City spirit.