Morocco
You can feel the tribal beat in your chest before you see the drummers.
The Djemaa el Fna – a sprawling square at the heart of the red-walled medina in Marrakech – throbs to the slave songs of the Senegalese; the young acrobats desperate for dirhams; the soothsayers and the bards; and the haunting melodies of the snake charmers as their cobras perform a dance of death.
Hawkers flirt, cajole and entice you to buy their wares: succulent dried apricots and fresh-squeezed orange juice from the fruit trees lining the boulevards.
A smoke haze hangs over the heads of thousands of tourists, as stallholders sear row upon row of pigeons, snails and merguez sausages.
Surrounding the square is a labyrinth of souks selling everything from ‘natural viagra’ to flowing kaftans and babouches (traditional Moroccan slippers).
It’s no surprise that this 11th century site has been listed by UNESCO as a ‘masterpiece of the oral and intangible heritage of humanity’.
This recognition has attracted hordes of tourists, amid increasing scrutiny of animal welfare and environmental issues.
La Police Touristique is clamping down on the monkey handlers who beat their chained Barbary Apes, and the drivers of horse-drawn carriages who vigorously whip their whimpering equines.
At the same time, a United Nations of ex-pats is slowly turning this desert nation, green.
An hour’s bus trip southeast of Marrakech lies Morocco’s food bowl – the Ourika Valley.
Ancient Berber villages dot the foothills of the snow-spotted Atlas Mountains, where locals live much as they did hundreds of years ago.
The Berbers created the tagine, a spicy stew cooked in a glazed pot with a lid shaped like a witches hat.
Each meal is preceded by a mint tea ceremony, where the thick, sweet liquid is poured from a silver pot a metre above a tiny glass.
We wander through a bio-aromatic Saffron Farm to discover that the ‘king of the spices’ is still harvested by hand.
The stigmas of the crocus flowers are only picked by women, before sunrise, to avoid damage.
Lunch at the Ourika Garden Restaurant begins with a rainbow of salads, the carrots, cucumber, tomatoes, eggplant, potato and beans grown in the ochre soil of the veggie garden.
The cuisine is influenced by Senegal, Spain, Portugal, and France, which occupied Morocco at the end of the 19th century.
High on a hill overlooking the village of Tikatert is an imposing kasbah, styled on an Islamic fortess.
Kasbah Bab Ourika is the vision of banker-turned-builder Steven Skinner, whose father set up Britain’s Travel Foundation, a charity for sustainable tourism.
The Foundation has joined the Moroccan National Tourism Office to launch the Every Drop Counts campaign, which has seen hotels and guesthouses save 25 percent of their average water consumption.
With 360-degree views of the mountains, the majestic kasbah is the progeny of a simple Berber home and a luxury country estate.
It’s made entirely from rammed earth, providing natural insultation: warm in winter, cool in summer.
The exquisite furniture is made by artisans in the souks of Marrakech.
The water is solar-heated, and Steven has ordered a bio-digester unit to convert waste into methane gas for cooking.
“I want to give something back to the villagers,” Steven says with a shrug. “It breaks my heart to see the elderly women, hunched over, carrying wood for their fires.”
Two Sydney girls, Cassie and Marilyn, created the kasbah’s fusion menu, featuring local ingredients with an international twist: think witlof, feta, tomato and walnut salad, followed by a beef tagine and orange poppy seed cake.
Organic produce is sourced from another ex pat – an Aussie called Murray who lives down the road.
Forty-five minutes south of Marrakech is another eco-haven.
The landscape morphs into desert, with undulating plains and plateaus dusted in shimmering sands.
Suddenly we see an oasis – a campsite next to a ribbon of river.
Camels, horses and donkeys lie languidly in the shade of olive trees to escape the baking heat.
This is La Pause, a simple but luxurious resort built by eco-conscious Frenchman, Frederic Alaime.
He spent 14 years on this replica Berber village, building rammed earth huts and weaving traditional tents.
Dozens of tiny candles light the smaller abodes, while the largest hut is solar powered.
“I want to leave less impact on the place,” he says. “We are almost self-sufficient.”
Like the Slow Food movement, everything is done at a leisurely pace.
Three-course meals are served in a private dining tent, by workers from the local village who gather the wild rocket and hand-press the olive oil.
The food is five-star, accompanied by an organic pinot gris.
Every activity has minimal impact on the environment, from bike riding to desert golf and dune trekking.
On the last night, I ride a white Arabian stallion up a razorback ridge.
To the left is the snow-speckled Grande Atlas; to the right, a blazing orange sun sits on the horizon.
The only thing I hear is the clicking of giant scarab beetles.
Another thriving eco-business can be found west of Marrakech, about two hours by bus.
Argan oil is the latest miracle ingredient in beauty products and haute cuisine around the world.
And argan trees only grow in one place – near the beach town of Essaouira on Morocco’s Atlantic coast.
Traditionally, goats climb to the top of the trees to eat the nuts, chewing through the tough outer shell.
Local women would search through the excrement to find the inner almond, which contains the good oil.
The nuts are now harvested mechanically but the women get a slice of the profits by processing the oil in co-operatives, set up by the government.
They use stone grinders to crush the nuts into a thick paste, which is pressed by hand to separate the oil.
This nutty oil is now being used in high-end restaurants from New York to Paris.
As a skin care product, it reputedly does everything from reversing the ageing process to curing eczema.
An hour further west, take a glimpse at Morocco’s Portugese past in the seaside village of Essaouira.
Whitewashed, blue-shuttered buildings line the boulevards leading to the old city.
Encircled by 15th century fortifications, the medina is a car-free zone courtesy of World Heritage listing.
Once off the bus, our kids and luggage are loaded into a carrossa (hand-cart) for a wild ride through the narrow laneways, past stalls selling sweet purple olives and roasted almonds.
Essaouira used to be a hippy retreat, and Cat Stevens returns every summer under his new name Youssef Islam.
While we stay in Chez Rebecca, a lovely self-contained flat, nearby is the country’s first eco hotel, Lalla Mira, which has wastewater recycling, solar floor heating and organic cotton bed linen.
Morocco is a terrific example of a developing nation on its way to a cleaner, greener future.
King Mohammed VI is a progressive monarch with a passion for human rights and environmental reform.
This spicy stew of Africa, Europe and the Middle East continues to entrance adventurers from around the globe.
Fact File
When to go
Morocco is famously known as a ‘cold country with a hot sun’. Visit in either spring (Mar-May) or autumn (Sept-Nov).
Getting there
Etihad Airways, based in Abu Dhabi (home to Masdar, the world’s first carbon-neutral city), flies from Sydney to Casablanca via the United Arab Emirates.
Where to stay
Kasbah Bab Ourika
La Pause
Chez Rebecca
Costs
Accommodation in a luxury riad, kasbah or apartment will cost around AUD$300 a night. Bus and train travel costs just a few dollars. Delicious food is plentiful and cheap.
More information
Morocco by Prior Arrangement
