A Week Solo in Morocco
The call to prayer rings out as the sun rises out of a rose gold sky and lights up the minaret of Koutoubia Mosque. I sip my mint tea on the rooftop of my riad and watch the city of Marrakesh float out of the dawn haze, the peaks of the Atlas Mountains soaring in the distance.
For a brief while, before the noise and commotion begins, I revel in the peace of the morning, inhaling the scent of orange blossom and feeling the warm November sun on my shoulders. It is my first morning in this fabled city, a place I have long wanted to visit, and I am enjoying the unique situation of having no-one to please on this trip except myself.
A few weeks before, when the chance came to get a week away, I decided to book a last-minute solo trip to Morocco. There was sunshine, the flights were cheap, and I could combine a few days in the city with mountains, desert, or the beach. More importantly, I wanted to rediscover my sense of adventure by travelling alone, something I had done without a second thought when I was younger. Now that I had a family with teenagers, holidays mostly involved revisiting the same European cities and beach towns with lots of complaining, unmet expectations, and exorbitant costs. I was curious to see whether I still had some of my intrepid spirit and wanted to visit somewhere that offered both cultural and outdoor activities.
The hardest thing about planning a trip to Morocco is deciding what to do and where to go. I chose a few days in Marrakesh, then the Atlas Mountains, and, finally, a trip to the coastal town of Essaouira. Travel around Morocco, especially with the bus companies, is inexpensive and straightforward. Booking accommodation is also easy as there is so much to choose from. I chose to stay in riads rather than hotels. A riad is a traditional guesthouse with rooms arranged around a central courtyard. Many are situated in the heart of the Medina and range in type and budget from hostel-style to luxury. I splurged a little on mine as, for once, I had only myself to pay for and I wanted a comfortable, tranquil place to return to every day.
I was both excited and nervous about travelling solo as a woman. While there are hundreds of positive accounts online about solo travel in Morocco, there are also some horror stories (thanks, Reddit!), particularly about the big cities like Marrakesh. I can say that I felt perfectly safe as I travelled, and any anxieties I had were from over-researching the trip. However, I did get some great tips before I went which made me feel more comfortable about being alone. I dressed in long trousers, dresses, and tops that covered my arms and chest to respect the culture. I got a local Sim card for my phone (easy to do at the airport), arranged pick-ups for my riad (taxis cannot enter the narrow alleys of the medina), and had a few basic phrases in Arabic to get by, although I found that the Marrakesh vendors speak a smattering of every language. I also wore air pods as I walked around so as not to engage with any of the shouts and pleas to come and buy. Yes, there is hassle and hustle. It’s part and parcel of the medina and it can be annoying, but I never once felt unsafe (even though I was walking around with cash stuffed in my bra and purse).
But no amount of preparation can steel you for your first day in the whirling kaleidoscope of the Marrakesh medina. I ventured out after breakfast with a hopeful list of museums, palaces, and gardens to visit, along with another list of things to buy in the souks. My first stop was a walking tour that met in the main square of Jemaa el-Fnaa, a bustling cultural hub of rooftop cafes, food stalls, street performers, and vendors. The sheer endurance feat of finding the square from my riad, squeezing past throngs of tourists, dodging motorbikes and donkey carts, proved too much. I got hopelessly lost and missed the tour. Google Maps was no help as it didn’t work in the labyrinthine alleys of the medina. Hot and exhausted, I stopped in a café and took out the physical map that the riad owner had given me. In theory, the palace and gardens I wanted to see were within walking distance and easy to get to. In practice, however, given my lost map reading skills, I rushed around, disorientated and overwhelmed, ticking nothing off my ambitious list. I returned to my riad, deflated but grateful to have such a calm oasis to escape to.
By day two, refreshed after a sumptuous breakfast on the roof, I had it all figured out. Less is more in Marrakesh. I decided to just wander, stop frequently for mint tea, and forget about lists and time. It takes a lot of energy to get past the crowds for the big attractions and you could easily lose a day haggling for bargains in the souks. I got to see some of the city’s incredible architecture, gardens, and sumptuous interiors by visiting Madrasa Ben Youssef, the Secret Gardens and Koutoubia Mosque. I drank delicious fresh pomegranate juice in Jemaa el-Fnaa and tried my hand at bargaining in the souks for spices, argan oil, babouches (traditional leather slippers), and intricately carved wooden boxes. It was far more enjoyable to ramble rather than rush, to take my time in the souks and to stop and eat at any of the many cafes around that caught my eye. Eating alone was no problem as there were so many other travellers, both in groups and solo, and it gave me time to recharge and read my book.
One of the highlights of my trip was a traditional hammam experience. I went to the public baths in Hammam Mouassine, a 16th-century building right in the heart of the medina. The local Moroccan hammam is a segregated, communal space where you bring your own kese (a rough hand mitt), Savon Beldi (olive and argan oil black soap), and buckets for hot water. Or, as a tourist, you can pay for an attendant to scrub you to within an inch of your life, removing all the dead skin you never knew you had. It’s not for the shy or faint-hearted. I was told to strip naked (although you are given a thong-like square if you need it) and sit on a mat in the middle of the steam room. Without a word spoken, the attendant rubbed black soap into my body, then vigorously exfoliated every molecule of dead skin, before sluicing me with buckets of warm water. When she had finished, I lay on the warm tiles, marvelling at how calm and cared for I felt after the experience.
Two days exploring Marrakesh was more than enough for me. I realised that, while city adventures can be fun solo, it’s probably even more fun when you have someone to share both the good and the bad with. I needed to escape to the Mountains and truly enjoy being alone. Just a few hours’ drive from Marrakesh, village life in the Atlas Mountains is slow paced and serene. The mountain lodge I stayed in, Douar Samra, was a rustic paradise in the village of Imlil with breathtaking views over the mountains. My room had no electricity but was lit by candles at night alongside a roaring fire to keep me warm. I could have spent days there just walking and chilling on the many rooftop balconies. Instead, I went trekking with a local guide and met lots of other people from all over the world. In the evenings we ate homecooked tagines in the cosy dining room, swapping stories about our adventures.
From the mountains I took a Supratours bus to the port town of Essaouira. The bus journey took about three hours from Marrakesh and was comfortable and affordable. Essaouira was my favourite part of the trip. I enjoyed the laidback feel of the town, the miles of golden coastline and the white fishing port with its bright blue boats. The medina is easy to navigate compared to Marrakesh and you can ramble around to your heart’s content without any hassle. Many of the shops have fixed-price items too, a relief from bargaining. I spent my final day by a stunning pool at one of the region’s luxury hotels, enjoying the decadence of doing absolutely nothing apart from eating a three-course lunch and getting a sublime massage. It was exactly what I needed after what was a rewarding, if not relaxing, trip.
I came home full of stories about my Moroccan trip. It reminded me how satisfying it is to experience challenges alone and test your resilience. I also met new people, something that doesn’t always happen when I travel with others. And I learned that while it is good to plan ahead, it is also good to drop your expectations and be happy to have no agenda. I will be back to Morocco, as soon as I learn how to read a map.
Written by Allyson Dowling
Allyson is a freelance writer and translator who lives by the sea with her family in Ireland. She is also a skincare and yoga fanatic, obsessive reader, sea swimmer, and self-improvement junkie who may sometimes keep a box of chocolates hidden under her bed.
