The Magic of MARRAKECH

One of the busiest cities in Africa, Marrakech makes for a colourful holiday—if visitors can keep up with its ever-bustling pace

- Anna Walker

THERE’S AN OLD saying in Morocco, that the first thing a visitor to Marrakech will smell is orange blossom. That the lilt of the nation’s favourite fruit would reach them before the sight of the souks, the leaves of the palm trees or the distant Atlas Mountains. Such a romantic notion is slightly hard to fathom in modern-day Marrakech, where the fumes of cars and scooters rule supreme, but orange trees do still line almost every street. Passers-by pluck them from the branches and stow them in pockets.

Marrakech is a thoroughly industrious city, and yet it manages its incessant busyness with a nod to the magic of its traditions, the lore that it has created around itself. Boys blast rap music as they ride their BMXs around the main square, Jemaa el-Fnna—where older men, perhaps their uncles or father—sell spices and freshly dyed leather and charm snakes. A quad biking guide has one hand on his handlebars, another clutching an iPhone. But we stop off at a tiny local village to enjoy steaming mint tea with other riders, listening peacefully to the clucking of their chickens. Marrakech keeps up with the demands of its tourism industry, but it refuses to lose its identity in the process.

I’m staying at the elegant Es Saadi Resort Palace, the backdrop for the slick 2016 BBC thriller, The Night Manager. It’s hard not to feel that we’ve entered a Bondesque fantasy, with a luscious balcony view, silverplated bathroom and selection of handcrafted pastries and fresh oranges laid out for our arrival.