A stressful two-hour traffic jam in New York, a missed flight, and an aborted takeoff in Lisbon faded into the horizon as we descended into a rose-gold landscape punctuated by ancient olive trees - an arid facsimile of Sicily in summer. As we neared the city from Marrakech’s tidy, modern airport, the 12th century Koutoubia Mosque beckoned with its arabesque lines and the muezzin’s timeless call for evening prayers as we arrived at the city gate, walked down a narrow lane, and knocked on the unassuming door at El Fenn. As the door opened, we stepped into a sea of color, an oasis of Islamic architectural flourishes and Berber hospitality molded by time and her offspring, tradition.

Day 1

The occasion in Marrakech? A close friend’s highly anticipated milestone birthday for 40+ guests from around the world. More inclined toward smaller groups, Gene and I were mildly apprehensive yet curious about the size of the group.

Initially, we booked Amanjena - a sprawling, luxurious oasis of Islamic architectural heritage distilled down to its essence in true Aman style. We are fans of the Aman’s minimalist distillation of place, to a point - particularly Amanjiwo in Indonesia. Given its location 15-mins outside of the medina and our preference for an urban vibe, we opted for El Fenn - a stunning collection of 7 riads stitched together with the Bohemian charm of Vanessa Branson (Sir Richard’s sister). As is often the case, a carefully curated hotel - one chosen with location and the prospect of smart conversation with welcome strangers in mind - sets the tone for a journey. El Fenn was no exception.

To get to the birthday boy’s kickoff dinner and meet our fellow adventurers for the next days, we dropped our bags in a sultry red bedroom at El Fenn and freshened up for an evening rooftop affair. Somewhat dazed and confused from the journey and later than expected arrival, we jumped in a taxi and weaved our way through the medina in a vintage Mercedes 240.

We stopped abruptly, no restaurant in sight, in what could have been a small medieval plaza with a few mules and little light. As we paid the driver, a man approached out of nowhere carrying a candle-lit lantern and guided us through an old-world labyrinth to the door of Le Foundouk. Up the stairs, past one of the most beautiful pendant lanterns I have ever seen, onto the rooftop, and wow - different world! Suddenly it all made sense… and the adventure began with a group of most welcome strangers.

Day 2

We awoke early to the sound of bird calls echoing through the riad courtyard and sun streaming through red stained glass windows. We made our way up to El Fenn’s rooftop paradise with 360-degree views of Marrakech and a bird’s eye view of Koutoubia Mosque as we nursed an impious hangover over a press pot of local coffee and Moroccan shakshouka. We could have lingered with the view all morning… but we had to make a mid-morning rendez-vous with the full group at Amanjena to venture into the desert for a mix of camels and ATVs.  

It turns out the real “desert” was actually three hours farther than than one hour trip we made...but given the size of our group and tempered level of adventure for a half-day window between museums, the next meal, and rug shopping, we savored a memorable beef tajine and homemade bread under a tent in a desert camp that would have made The English Patient set designers proud. In a welcome departure from that film, the temperature never rose above 80F/26C during our visit.

Back in Marrakech post-camel ride, sundowners were in order. In the highest rooftop terrace perch for a bird’s-eye view of La Koutoubia and the hypnotic evening call to prayer,  we chose El Dorados (white tequila, lemon juice, honey) and proceeded to make quick friends in 3 stylish Canadian travelers: a contemporary art aficionado from Toronto, her daughter and aspiring designer, and a fellow Canadian bon vivant splitting her time between Paris, Florence, and Dubai. Their confidence and quick repartee did not go unnoticed. After several more evenings of sundowners and a few random encounters in Marrakech, I know we will see these welcome strangers again. Encounters like these are why we travel - and why we choose our hotels so carefully. Because at the end of the day, these encounters are not random at all; they happen when like-minded, initiated travelers make informed decisions.

Day 3

There is nothing quite as reassuring as a morning routine… and El Fenn terrace became a morning ritual, part of which involved mapping out our day. This particular day involved meeting up with a guide to lead us through an architectural and cultural tour of the medina, including an important trip to Chez Les Nomades to replace a faded rug from a 2013 trip to Istanbul. While we wrestled between Chez Les Nomades and Soufiane Zarib, we ultimately chose the former due to the promise of a wide selection of vintage and more traditional carpets vs. Soufiane’s modern flavor.

Famished, we arrived at Nomad - the restaurant - in the heart of the medina for lunch with a group of San Francisco friends, as well as new friends from New York we have since seen on multiple occasions (note: if you are invited to a destination birthday, wedding, anything - just say “yes”). While we did not have a bad meal in Marrakech, the food at Nomad was exceptional. Their creative take on chicken tajine was not only artful but delicious.

Post-lunch, we wandered through the Maison de la Photographie. Its unfussy, yet powerful curation of turn-of-the-century (20th, that is) photos and persuasive gift shop charmed. A handful of other shops in the maze of the medina followed - and we kept running into our newfound birthday party friends from Le Foundouk and familiar tourist faces. Marrakech is that sort of place. Somewhat predictably, the most efficient shopping turned out to be the El Fenn Boutique. Effortlessly curated - including the clean, simple style of local fashion brand “M Life”, ceramics, the best pool towels ever, and an adjacent bar - we indulged.

Back in our rooftop perch after a scrub to prep for the birthday extravaganza and a photo opp, we met up with - unplanned but right on time - our Canadian friends for sundowners. Back and forth over Cascais vs. Comporta and the details of a private event in a Lisbon venue for a group of contemporary art lovers, Gene and I felt well-prepared for our marathon weekend stopover in Lisbon on the way home.

The one thing I can say with 100% certainty about Aman is this: they know how to throw a party. Demetrios’ pool villa was decked out inside and out, where we gathered for sunset cocktails and photos before settling down to a feast with a beautiful horseshoe-arched pergola as a backdrop. Like a Merchant & Ivory set, I kept waiting for Kristin Scott Thomas to arrive with a cocktail in hand. It was pure, memorable magic. That evening melted magically into early morning by an outdoor fireplace in conversation with old and new friends.

Day 4

Smallish and potent, the recently opened Yves Saint Laurent Museum is pure inspiration. Few of us had any idea just how profoundly Marrakech - and Morocco - influenced Yves Saint Laurent and his lifetime partner, Pierre Bergé, and his eponymous foundation. The soggy remains of our group trickled into the museum at the prospect of culture and lunchtime mimosas. It is a must for creative inspiration. To reflect on the genius of YSL and how heavily he was influenced by place, go no further than next door to the Jardin Majorelle. For this succulent- and cactus-loving Californian, the grounds were stunning, particularly the size of succulents nourished by Atlas Mountain water for over a century. The Berber Museum is an unexpected morsel inside the actual gardens that tells the powerful story of the Berbers (Amazigh). One of the oldest peoples - and languages - on earth, their history dates back some 9,000 years. The term “Berber” is an ancient Egyptian or Chadic term so old, in fact, that its exact origins are disputed.

After the aforementioned mimosas at the very French Le Grand Café de la Poste, we made our way to one of the small number of hotels on our list to explore - Royal Mansour Marrakech. Spa appointments booked, we entered an urban oasis of calm and green through a stunning multifoil, arabesque arch. The massages were fine - but the grounds were worth the effort. Would we stay there? Perhaps. With 50+ riads, it is the quiet, well-placed option for a thoughtfully edited tate of all things Morocco - minus the realness of the medina. The other hotels on our list for the next trip: La Sultana and AnaYela.

Day 5-6

A farewell dinner for 30+ on the rooftop of El Fenn was a perfect bookend to one of the more memorable few days we had ever experienced in one place. The people, the culture, the location - it would be hard to top - if not for our next destination with a much smaller group: Richard Branson’s Atlas Mountain redoubt, Kasbah Tamadot. Just 1h15m by car from Marrakech, we picked up the birthday boy and a few others guests at Amanjena and made our way - surprisingly quickly - to the base of the High Atlas Mountains and their 14,000+ feet peaks, still topped with snow in late May.

With just 28 rooms in a remote location on a bluff overlooking a raging river powered by snowmelt from Mt. Toubkal (13,761 ft/4,167 m), Kasbah Tamadot was one of the more idyllic settings we have ever experienced. A veritable Garden of Eden, the view from the terrace evoked a response not unlike ballooning over Bagan in Myanmar, waking up near Ahangama on the southern Sri Lankan coast, or eating al fresco on an Umbrian mountaintop at an 11-century watchtower-cum-hotel. Our time at Kasbah Tamadot - near the town of Asni - was magical in a different way. While more of a rural country retreat with good service, KT is all about the setting - and the jaw-dropping juxtaposition of snow-capped mountains and alpine streams an hour from the desert oasis and palm trees of Marrakech.

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