Marrakech 2025: My First Steps as a Private Guide
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Translated into English.

MO Montagnard74 Globetrotter ·
It’s true it’s not really your usual thing, but with friends it’s way more fun 😄

There’s a time for everything, and I enjoy every moment—whether it’s just the two of us or a group of 11!

I really love this photo 👍

Me too! That’s the work of our guide, who handled the iPhone like a pro!
MO Montagnard74 Globetrotter ·
that’s when calm returns at 11 PM

Oops! Better not have Bruno as a neighbor!

Or get invited to the fiesta.

There you go! Get invited to the fiesta!
RO Rouquine38 Globetrotter ·
it’s at 11 PM that calm will return

Oops! Don’t have Bruno as a neighbor!

Or get invited to the fiesta.

There you go! Get invited to the fiesta!

Great idea! Next time, give us the address and we’ll come party in your palace 😉
KA Kate Globetrotter ·
That’s our guide’s work—he handled the iPhone like a pro!

The best shot from our camel ride in India was taken by the guide with my smartphone :( (Still, Kate keeps spending money on new lenses)
RO Rouquine38 Globetrotter ·
That’s the work of our guide—he handled the iPhone like a pro! 😊

The best shot from our camel-back ride in India was taken by the guide with my smartphone :( (Keep spending money on new lenses, Kate)

That’s what I tell myself sometimes, especially about carrying that damn 10 kg camera bag 😵 But... is the quality there for the meet-up?
MO Montagnard74 Globetrotter ·
If we compare your photos and mine, it’s a done deal! !
KA Kate Globetrotter ·
it’s at 11 PM that calm will return

Oops! Don’t have Bruno as a neighbor!

Or get invited to the fiesta.

There you go! Get invited to the fiesta!

Great idea, next time you’ll give us the address and we’ll come party in your palace 😉

Oh yeah, the gilding, the kitschy canopy, the guys at the barbecue, the booze flowing, the pool and the lanterns, the karaoke… I’m all for it too. It’s good to let loose every now and then—it clears your head
KA Kate Globetrotter ·
That’s what I tell myself sometimes too, especially about carrying that damn 10 kg camera bag But... is the quality there for the meet-up?

Visually, for casual photos, yes. But a phone is still just a phone. Anyway, it’s a big debate. And I agree with you—even the 2 kg of my DSLR is starting to kill my neck.
MO Montagnard74 Globetrotter ·
Yeah yeah, the gilding, the kitschy canopy, the guys at the barbecue, the booze flowing, the pool and the lanterns, the karaoke... I'm into it too—it's nice every now and then, gives your head a break

But we also had discussions about the future of the world and humanity's place in its environment! No? Uh, no, actually

Anyway, my career as an intellectual anthropologist studying the origins of the Berber people didn’t last long…

Watch out, Kate, you’re getting all *framissima*!!
SO Solene40 Globetrotter ·
If your friends are all as funny as you, Bruno, I’m joining you too. Plus, I’m old (for the 20-year-old kids 😂) and I love karaoke 😆
MO Montagnard74 Globetrotter ·
Day 7: Historic and Natural Marrakech: The Day I Lose My Co-Pilot . Thanks to your advice, I’d planned a second day exploring the Ochre City. Focused on the southern part of town: Place des Ferblantiers, Bahia Palace, Saadian Tombs, the Kasbah, El Badi Palace, and the Menara Gardens.

Theoretical departure: 9:00 AM. But the aftermath of yesterday’s excursion meant we didn’t actually leave until 10:40—so we had to cut some sights. Especially since our first stop, Bahia Palace, was packed on May 8th. It was harder to navigate the palace’s maze-like corridors than the city’s souks, and I’ve long noticed you don’t visit a site with 11 people the same way you do with just 2. So, we agreed to meet up at the exit.







.

Our visits wrapped up at 3:00 PM, with the (stunning) Bahia Palace, Saadian Tombs, and a few strolls through the Kasbah under our belts. Goodbye, magnificent El Badi Palace; goodbye, iconic Menara basin—we’ll have to come back for you! A quick photo stop at Bab Agnaou gate, a couscous lunch scarfed down on the terrace of Kasbah Café (with a view of the mosque—I recommend!), and we were back to the villa. If I’d wanted a full week of culture, I’d need to return! .







.

But the most observant among you will have noticed the chapter title: *When did you lose your co-pilot?* Well, actually, it was that evening... After resting at the villa and a light dinner (since we’d barely digested our 3:30 PM meal), the “Sunday group” got the urge to visit Jemaa el-Fnaa square at night. A totally justified idea—we’d already spent two evenings there with the rest of the group. But getting two taxis from where we were staying was complicated and expensive. *Fortune favors the brave* (a near-boomer expression!), so we decided to drive there in our Dacias...

Now, picture this: two cars weaving through the Medina’s traffic at 9:00 PM on May 8th. Only one of us had cell service (mine), and of course, we lost sight of each other. It took over an hour to reconnect, thanks to some vocal radio guidance.

We ended up parking near the Mamounia (not the cheapest spot!) and joined the famous square, where—adding to the chaos—a giant local concert was in full swing. The atmosphere was on point, but keeping the group together? Not so much. We agreed to meet at 12:30 AM at the base of the stunning and unmissable Koutoubia. Our time on the square was cut short, but my co-pilot was found, and the Dacias were intact!

KA Kate Globetrotter ·
Farewell, sumptuous El Badi Palace, farewell, magnificent Menara Basin

No big deal! Yeah, it’s pretty beautiful, but not as unforgettable as the Ben Youssef Madrasa or Dar El Bacha… which would be my top priorities for a short stay in Marrakech.
MO Montagnard74 Globetrotter ·
Day 8: Imlil Valley – The Day We Lost the Guide

Looking back, we lost the guide that day, but I gained a travel journal—one person’s misfortune became my readers’ gain. Imlil and its valley might have felt a bit repetitive for the first group, but we’d really loved the Ourika Valley, so we were pumped for this new excursion. We were supposed to leave at 9:30 AM, breakfast included, but it wasn’t until 10:15 that the Dacias finally got moving. By now, I was used to the delays—I’d planned a stop at the "Argan Oil Cooperative," but it got skipped to make up time. The road was beautiful, though the turns got sharper past Asni. We had to climb up to 1,700 meters! I’d allow a quick stop along the way at a parking lot in the middle of nowhere just to avoid falling even further behind schedule...

When we arrived in Imlil, it was chilly, and the village was lively, but the huge, nearly empty parking lot at the bottom hinted at a quiet day. Our goal was the waterfall again, starting from the top of the village. And when you’re walking through a village with eleven people, trust me—you get noticed! It was Brahim, the friendly owner of a well-rated (and slightly out-of-the-way) guesthouse on TripAdvisor, who won us over after some tough negotiating. With eleven of us, we had leverage: a full lunch on the terrace, his son to guide the group to the waterfall, and a mule to carry A up and down since, due to health issues, they couldn’t handle any uphill climbs. If that’s not an efficient and thoughtful guide, I don’t know what is! So off we went to tackle the Toubkal, at 4,170 meters—almost rivaling my Mont Blanc. Well, at least the first 200 meters of elevation gain, taking about half an hour to reach the guesthouse and another half hour to the waterfall for those who wanted to see it.





And that’s where I got left behind... The nervous tension, the heat, the fatigue, and a poorly placed rock on the path—*crack*—I felt my calf tear like an old rag being ripped in two. The pain was immediate and intense, and I couldn’t put any weight on my foot. I gritted my teeth, but it was no use. Only the supportive shoulder of my co-pilot and friend M got me hobbling back to the guesthouse. Brahim didn’t know what to do to help my progress, but once we reached his terrace, he rushed to break up the ice in his freezer to ease the injury.

Game over—we’d lost the guide!

Of course, the waterfall visit was canceled, but no one felt like tempting fate. Instead, we enjoyed the incredible chicken couscous prepared by Brahim’s wife, all while the muezzins’ calls echoed through the valley. She did everything she could to make our stop at her home a pleasant moment (and it was).



But we had to think about heading back, and there was no way I could handle the walk down. The mule meant for A was repurposed as a Moroccan ambulance and carried me down to the vehicles (for a hefty tip, of course).



I knew from the moment I got hurt that we’d have to return to Marrakech. I also knew that in our group, only M and I were capable (and insured) to drive in Morocco, so I gritted my teeth and got the Dacia back to the villa. It was my right calf, and the pain had eased slightly thanks to immobilization, a tightly wrapped Velpro bandage, and some Doliprane.

The planned stop at the cooperative on the way back was, of course, canceled. It was 5:30 PM by the time I (sweating profusely) parked the Logan in the villa’s lot. There, I gathered all the creams and ointments from everyone’s suitcases, plus a knee brace a friend had packed—just what I needed to compress my calf. My savior for the rest of the trip.

Because I knew the day wasn’t over yet. The next day, A was leaving for family reasons we’d known about from the start, and I’d booked a table at Dar Essalam for a dinner show. It was well-reviewed for its value for money and was supposed to wrap up (already!) our group of 11’s trip. Fortunately, we had to be there early, traffic was light, and I could park just a 3-minute walk from the restaurant, near the Place des Ferblantiers.

This restaurant can serve up to 800 people, but cleverly, it’s designed with multiple rooms of about a hundred seats each, where shows rotate to keep the atmosphere lively. Wine is served (starting at 20 € a bottle), as are cocktails, and we didn’t hold back—especially since we were celebrating N’s 60th birthday that night, a surprise for her. The restaurant, in on the secret, made sure her birthday was an unforgettable moment. The full menu is 30 €, very affordable, quickly served between performances, and good quality despite the crowd. It’s kitschy, but high-end kitsch, and we loved it... We left the restaurant after 11 PM, and no one felt like wandering around (especially not me). We headed back to our lodgings without much trouble, going against the tourist flow.

KA Kate Globetrotter ·
And that’s where you lose me... The nervous tension, the heat, the exhaustion, and a poorly placed rock on the path—*crack*—I feel my calf tear like an old rag you’d cut in two. The pain is immediate, sharp, and I can’t put any weight on my foot. I grit my teeth, but nothing helps

Ouch! 🏴‍☠️ We can only imagine… What if the accident had happened on day 1? One little rock and—bam!—vacation ruined.
MO Montagnard74 Globetrotter ·
It’s called Karma, and so far, it’s been pretty good to me…
AT Attila Globetrotter ·
The worst part is that it was such a silly accident! !🤪

Not like you were tackling a black slope or attempting the "diagonale du fou".

Too much apéritif the night before? 😇
MU Muriel18 Globetrotter ·
It’s definitely better on the 8th day than the first, but still 😕 Hope you're on the mend 😉
JO Jojoone1 Globetrotter ·
Hi there, I’d love to get the contact details for this guide/organizer because I’d like to offer this kind of experience to a group of friends (including labyrinth packages in the medina, boozy karaoke, and hospital packages for an unforgettable stay). Thanks in advance! 😎
MO Montagnard74 Globetrotter ·
The worst part is that it was such a silly accident! Not like you threw yourself down a black run or attempted the Diagonale du Fou. Too much apéritif the night before?

Well, at the same time, I’ve rarely had a smart accident ¾ Black runs, I handle (wisely) on my own, and the Diagonale du Fou isn’t on my to-do list. As for the (moderate) excess of apéritif the night before—if I broke something every time, they’d call me "unbreakable" ¾
MO Montagnard74 Globetrotter ·
Definitely better on the 8th day than the first, but still 😕 Hope you're on the mend 😉

Yep, yep, recovery’s on the way. Thanks! But no worries—I’ll have time to wrap up this travel journal.

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